Laura Lawless is a self-taught "maven of the French language." I subscribe to her website, which is full of all sorts of interesting and useful items, from lessons on vocabulary and reflexive verbs to articles about various aspect of French culture and history.
She does not neglect "La Grand Boucle", a.k.a. the Tour de France. The other day, her post included a list of French cycling-related terms. You probably know some of them already. One of my favorites is "en danseuse", for a rider who's standing up, i.e., doing a "track stand". I have long argued that the best (or, at least, my favorite) sculptures are a still form of dance. And it takes as much athleticism and coordination to do a stand as it does to ride well, in my opinion!
Sometimes the weather forecasters like to scare us. Or so it seems. Today, they gave us dire warnings of "possible" or "likely" thunderstorms this afternoon.
Whatever they were trying to accomplish, their admonitions worked for me. I got out nice and early for a ride today--on Arielle. She seemed as happy as I was: Even when I pedaled into the wind--as I did for about half of my 125-kilometer ride--she just kept on going. And I felt that I could, too.
In fact, when a very light rain sprinkled the streets, sand and stones of Point Lookout, I wanted to ride even more. Rain on a warm day can sometimes has that effect on me. The precipitation, though, didn't last as long as the cup of coffee I drank at the Point.
The clouds looked more ominous than they actually are--at least to me, or anyone else who is familiar with the weather patterns. The tides swelled, but the clouds were moving south and east--in other words, out to the sea whose waves were growing.
In contrast to yesterday's ride to Connecticut, the trek to the Point is flat, which may be a reason why it seemed so easy. In fact, my round-trip didn't took four hours, and I wasn't even trying to "make time"--and I took a slightly longer-than-normal route from Forest Park back to my apartment.
By the time I got home, though, I did make time for a nice long European-style lunch: a cod fillet I poached with mushrooms and onions I sauteed, along with a simple salad of Boston lettuce, sliced carrots and beets pickled with dill in Balsmic vinegar. I washed it all down with a small wedge of Mimolette: a reddish-orange French cheese that looks and tastes oddly, though pleasantly, like butterscotch. If that doesn't make it a dessert cheese, I don't know what does.
Yes, Max and Marlee got small pieces of cod, too. I'm not cruel enough to make them watch me while I eat food they'd love without sharing some with them. Of course, I held the onions, mushrooms and everything else!
I didn't have to go to work today. I got to ride and have a nice meal, if I do say so myself. I had the company of two cats. And I'm going to do some more writing after I finish this post. Am I privileged, or what?
(I apologize for the photos, which I took with my cheapo cell phone!)
In response to yesterday's "postcard" from Helene, "MT Cyclist" asked whether I've told my other bikes that Helene is now on a farm.
Actually, I've told all of my bikes except Vera, who has been in transit and arrived at the Mercian workshop today. I sense she might be a bit stressed from the trip. In addition, she's going to undergo a bit of surgery in addition to her facelift, so I don't want to burden her any further.
Of my other bikes, Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear, seems rather nonplussed. But I sense Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and the Trek I've been working on for the past few months (and have yet to name) are a bit more envious. After all, they're made for longer rides and like the outdoors. Moreover, I am trying to reassure Arielle that I will continue to ride her once I receieve the Vincitore Special I've ordered.
Today was the perfect opportunity for the latter. It was warm, but not unusually so for this time of year. And the humidity nothing like what I sweltered in as I rode the other day. Plus, the clouds that muted this morning's sunshine broke up as I rode north and east from my apartment to...you guessed it...Connecticut.
Although I had the wind at my back most of the way up, pedaling against it on my way back wasn't noticeably more difficult, at least until I reached East Tremont Avenue in the Bronx, about ten kilometers from my apartment. I found that odd because the Bronx becomes more densely built, more like Manhattan, from that point southward.
Still, I wasn't feeling tired, even though I pedaled the entire ride on my larger chainring and shifted into lower gears than the ones in the middle of my cassette only when I pedaled up the ridge into Connecticut from New York State.
After a ride like the one I took today, there will certainly be more for Arielle--and the other bikes I have and the ones that I will have. And, I'm sure there will be some great rides for Helene--yes, from the farm.
