Spinning Their Wheels

It rotates around an axis. At the axis is a gear, which in turn is spun by another gear connected to it with a chain or belt. 

It sounds like a bicycle wheel, right? 

Well, it could be.  Or it might be something else you've probably ridden.

I'm talking about a Ferris Wheel.  The method of propulsion may be a bit different (an engine instead of a pair of legs), but the basic operating principles are more or less the same.

So, perhaps, it's not surprising that someone has created a bicycle-powered Ferris wheel:



That, at least, makes some kind of sense.  But a Ferris Wheel-powered bicycle...I dunno:

Then again, one can argue that bicycles are powered by Ferris Wheels--or that Ferris Wheels are oversized bicycle wheels with people riding them.

After The Foliage: November Cycling

Went out after the rain yesterday.  I know I could have ridden one of my fendered (Is there such a word?) bikes, but getting wet or dirty wasn't my concern.  The rain was a cold, rather dreary, one, and I simply didn't feel like starting a ride in it.

The rest of the day was overcast, mostly.  But the cloud cover, and the air generally, were most definitely those of November.  Gone are most of the leaves; most of the trees (except, of course, for the evergreens, of which we don't have many in this area) are bare.  Thus, the colors of the day do not blaze from foliage; rather, they are suffused with light that is growing dimmer.

October, with its fall foliage, which I love as much as anyone does, dazzles the senses.  Somehow I feel November, with its more austere shapes and hues, sharpens those senses.  At least, that's how  I feel when I ride during this month.

And Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, sharpens me as a rider, I believe.  Her responsiveness makes me more responsive to my conditions--and rewards me with an exhilarating but still comfortable ride.

There was another reward, as I looked to the west from the Gil Hodges Memorial Bridge:

 

If You Can Survive New York...

At one time in my life, I very seriously thought of moving to San Francisco.

In those days, "The City By The Bay" still seemed to be basking in a patchouli-scented twilight.  I haven't been there in a while, but I've been told that money from the high-technology and financial-services industries has changed the city's character quite a bit.

Anyway, 'Frisco just seemed to be more friendly and relaxed than New York in those days, though it still had almost everything I love about cities.  Plus, there are those stunning views!

I figured--like most New Yorkers--that if I can survive here, I can live anywhere.  And, once I got used to the hills, commuting on my bike would be easier.

Or would it?

From SF Gate