To The Beach, Gently Weeping

Tomorrow is supposed to be more like an early-spring day in Belgium or the Netherlands than an early July (i.e., The Fourth) in the US.  Not that I mind, particularly.  But today was beautiful:  a clear sky and a high temperature of about 26C (80F) with little humidity and a moderate breeze.  

I had a few things to do today but I was able to get on the bike by two in the afternoon.  Given that we are just past the longest day (in terms of the length of daylight) of the year, I figured I'd still have enough time to ride to Point Lookout and back before dark--especially if I rode Arielle.

Which is what I did.  Even though I pedaled into the breeze (which turned into a veritable wind by the time I got to Broad Channel), I made one of my better times going out there--and, of course, had an even faster ride back.  Without pushing myself and with a stop at Point Lookout to ponder and soak up sun and salt air--and consume a packet of Welch's Fruit Snacks (Cherries 'n' Berries) with a bottle of seltzer water--I still managed to get home more than an hour before sunset.  (If I were Jewish, I could've been lighting my Shabbos candles!)

Even though my logical mind told me not to go anywhere near a beach, I did.  I saw the traffic I expected.  Notice I said "I saw".  I structured my ride so I didn't have to spend much of it pedaling alongside rows of SUVs with cranky drivers and their spouses screaming at their screaming kids--or each other.  And those vehicles went to the places I expected:  Rockaway Park, Rockaway Beach, Atlantic Beach, Long Beach and Lido Beach.  I also expected to see some of those vehicles and crabby kids at Point Lookout, which is right across from Jones Beach, one of the most popular summer seaside spots in this area.

But I saw this:

That tree, or whatever it is, always looks the same, no matter the time of day or year.  I've asked a couple of people what kind of tree it is and how it got there; no one seems to know.  Next time I see a Parks Service employee, I'll ask.

Somehow it fits into my  "While His Fixie Gently Weeps" post-- or the spirit of Salvador Dali that helped to inspire it.  While a bare tree/Gently weeps.

Now I'll show you someone who gently weeps:

At least, that's what she did when I walked by.  She and the window are across the street from where I live.  I passed them after I got home, returned Arielle to The Family and went to the store.  

She gave a soft, rather forlorn, meow.  I think she knew she was looking at a friend but we couldn't get any closer than we were.  Perhaps one day...

Conkey Cruisers Determined To Keep Going In Ra-Cha-Cha

I haven't been to Rochester in a while.  Not so long ago, photography (specifically Kodak) was to New York State's third-largest city as the auto industry was to Detroit or bicycle business to Birmingham and St. Etienne.  At one time, banks in Rochester would grant mortgages and loans to people who simply presented a Kodak employee ID.

Kodak, which didn't keep up in the shift from film to digital photography, filed for bankruptcy three and a half years ago.  But the city's decline had begun before that, when other companies and whole industries left.  Now one out of every four residents of "Ra-Cha-Cha", and two out of every five of its young people, live in poverty as it's defined by the US Government.

In such a place, there are people who are desperate enough to steal anything that might be of any monetary value or use.  A bicycle has both. So, a would-be thief who broke into a storage facility where 150 are kept would probably think he'd hit paydirt.

Some of the Conkey Cruisers

That is what happened last week.  The bikes belonged to The Conkey Cruisers.  Theresa Bowick, a registered nurse, started the organization three years ago to help city residents of all ages stay fit.  (Like other cities in which much of the population is poor, obesity, diabetes and other health problems are rampant.)  But her focus became the children--who, she says, "are children I love."  

Theresa Bowick

 She is, therefore, determined to keep the program going.  The Rochester Police Department says it has recovered 25 to 30 of the bicycles, all in pieces.  To Bowick, though, all is not lost: "[O]ur safety coordinator and our program educator decided they are going to use those pieces to teach our participants to put bicycles together."

Donations have come in from the immediate area and beyond.  Still, Bowick says, her program can use donations of bikes, parts, money or moral support.

Bringing Bikes To Kids In The Great North

Nunavut is a region of Canada about three times the size of Texas, or about the same size as all of Western Europe.  Yet my neighborhood--Astoria, Queens, New York--has about three times as many people.

I have never been to Nunavut.  Somehow I imagine there aren't many bike shops there and that delivery even from Performance or Wiggle is slow.  Then again, from what I've read, I don't imagine very many natives of Nunavut--most of whom are Inuit, and many of whom don't speak either English or French, the two official languages of Canada--have the means of accessing bicycle retailers' websites or the money to buy a bike.

Alison Harper noticed as much. She and her husband moved to Kugluktuk, a town about 600 kilometres north of Yellowknife, the largest community in the Northwest Territories.  The kids who came into the community center in which she volunteered were fascinated by her fat-tired bike.  She decided to organize a ride with those young people, only to find that one of the boys didn't have a bike.

Alison Harper and children of Kuglutuk on their bikes. From CTV News.

She then started the Polar Bike Project to bring bikes to kids in the Great North.  She contacted a friend who owns a bike shop in Calgary, who agreed to donate bikes.  Getting them to Kugluktuk was another story.  Fortunately, Buffalo Airways in Yellowknife offered to ship them for free.

The first ten bikes arrived last month and 42 are due in the next shipment.  She hopes to bring a bike to every child in the town. So she's looking for more sources of bikes, locks helmets and monetary donations for her project.