On The Rocks, Into The Sunset

When I rode to Point Lookout today, I realized something about the place.  So did this couple:

Everyone and everything in Point Lookout must perch on the rocks.  I think that's actually written into the local ordinances.

Arielle understands as much.  And for being a good citizen, she (and I) got to end our ride in grand style:

For Two, For History

As I've mentioned on other posts, I haven't spent a lot of time riding tandems.  Logistically, it's more difficult than riding a single:  You need, in addition to the bike itself, a partner, a place big enough to store the bike and money, for tandems tend to be high-maintenance.  

Once I was the pilot (the cyclist in front) for a blind woman on a charity ride.  I was riding a basic heavy-duty tandem--from Schwinn, if I remember correctly.  I think I rode a lightweight road tandem only once.  It's something I wouldn't mind experiencing again.  However, if I were to ride a tandem, I think I'd be even more interested in riding a track tandem.  I mean, for two riders to pedal a fixed gear, both have to be skilled cyclists who communicate well.  Were I to do a ride on such a bike with such a rider, I'd probably feel supremely confident in my abilities as a cyclist.

And I think I've seen the tandem I'd like to ride:

From Classic Rendezvous

This Schwinn Paramount track tandem is  believed to be the very first one ever made.  Jackie Simes and Jack Heid pedaled it to victory in a three-mile tandem race that ran through Johnson Park in New Brunswick, NJ in June 1951.  It would be the last professional bicycle race held in the United States for nearly a quarter of a century.

Johnson Park is near the campus of Rutgers,where I did my undergraduate degree. I took many a ride there, and witnessed a couple of races.  I knew that some important cycle races had been held there, but I didn't know, at the time, that the last professional race was run in that bucolic setting.

Check out this detail of the front"

The Lighthouse Guides Another Ride

There may not be many lighthouses that still guide ships into and through harbours--at least not here in the US.  However, many are all but irrestistible as destinations, or at least landmarks for bike rides.

This one is only a few minutes' ride from my apartment.

It's at the northern end of Roosevelt Island, that sliver of rock between Manhattan and Queens.   It's what I usually envision when I'm pedaling over the bridge to the island, and it's the point at which I feel an escape from the city becomes a meandering, however brief, along the coast.

Ironically, following the lighthouse yesterday may have been one of my last opportunities for an after-work ride in daylight.