Freedom Rider

On this date in 1929, Martin Luther King Jr. was born.   His birthdate will be commemorated on Monday, five days from now. We also observe the births of Presidents Washington and Lincoln, as well as other holidays, on Mondays in this country.

I guess if you want to become famous enough to have a holiday dedicated to you, you have to be born on Monday.  Or, perhaps, being born on Monday will lead you to fame.

But I digress.  I don't often hear or see MLK and bicycling mentioned on the same page, let alone the same sentence.  The biographies I've seen tell us that he enjoyed riding his bike as a kid but make no mention of him cycling as an adult.

From Dan's Globe Bike

So why am I mentioning him on this blog?  Well, I believe that my cycling is one major reason why I began to think about issues of social justice long before I would be affected by them in the immediate and visceral ways I would experience them when I was transitioning from male to female.  Riding my bike through New York--where I have lived much of my life--and other cities, I have seen, close-up, the stark differences between neighboring communities.  Just minutes after spinning by the opulent townhouses and boutiques of Manhattan's Fifth and Park Avenues--which rival Rodeo Drive, Kensington Gardens and l'Avenue Montaigne--I descend the ramp from the Triboro Bridge to the southern tip of the Bronx.  It's part of the 16th Congressional district, the poorest in the entire nation. There, I am as likely as not to be the only woman on a bicycle within a radius of several miles.

In both neighborhoods, people sometimes compliment the bike I'm riding, or (on rarer occasions these days) my riding itself.  In either neighborhood, I am keenly aware of my privilege:  Even if I am riding to work or an appointment, I am riding my bike by choice.  And I am riding a bike I choose to ride.  Even if I have no money in my purse, I still occupy a higher rung on the social--and, yes, economic--ladder then those who are riding bikes that no one else wanted so they can deliver pizzas or get to an appointment with a case worker.

As long as I can ride, and choose to do so, I am privileged.

The Florida Tourism Board Won't Use This

Yesterday I got back from a few days in Florida.  I spent some time with Mom and Dad.  As usual, I ate too much:  How could I do otherwise when I'm surrounded by Mom's cooking.  (At least, it seems like there's food everywhere I turn when I'm there!) How does the saying go?  Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we can diet.  Or something like that.

Of course, we all know that, at this time of year, you go to Florida for the weather.  And indeed it was warmer there than it was in New York:  30F (-1C) when my flight landed in the Sunshine State.  It was 3F (-16C) that morning in New York.

As for the State's motto:  We did get sunshine, yesterday and the day before.  The two days before that looked more like this:

Hmm...The Atlantic Ocean at Painter's Hill might actually be even prettier under an overcast sky.

In such conditions, I am not the only one in Flagler Beach contemplating her existence:

We all know that the ocean is really an infinite road, perhaps the one not taken (Sorry, Robert!):

I'll blame the fact that I didn't ride further along this road than I did on the bike:  The rear wheel was literally falling apart.  I rode back to Mom's house as darkness was approaching.  I figured that the next day I could get the bike to the shop.  But Dad took me there the following morning.  By the time I changed the wheel, the sun was playing tag with the clouds and I followed more of that road--and A1A, along the ocean. 

I confess:  I was following this procession:

 

Le Tour 2014

Here is a map of the 2014 Tour de France:

As you can see, the race begins in England and also crosses into Belgium and Spain.  Notably absent are stages along the Atlantic, in the center of the country or in the western part, save near where it crosses into Spain.  Also, from looking at the map--and my own experience riding in many of the areas through which the Tour will pass--I expect this year's race to be more mountainous than average.

To all of the racers, I say bonne route.  And, if not this year, I hope to go and see the race again.