Another “beat the heat” ride. I must admit that I did something the nutritionists tell you not to do: I skipped breakfast. I rationalized it to myself because I wasn’t hungry and wanted to get on my bike early. I did, however, have a quick cup of coffee before taking off.
My ride took me into Brooklyn, through the quiet side streets of Greenpoint, some brownstone blocks of the Pratt Institute neighborhood and Park Slope—and a neighborhood just south of Prospect where the Victorian houses have wide porches and the streets have names that are even more English than anything the English could ever come up with.
From there, I rode down past Brooklyn College into a neighborhood with bigger, but more modern (1930s-1950s) houses that were once home to the children of Jewish and Italian immigrants who’d “made it” but are now occupied by Orthodox Jewish families who, no doubt, are prosperous even if their wealth has to be spread across large families.
From there, I pedaled to Sheepshead Bay and Coney Island where I saw the same blue heat I saw yesterday from Fort Totten Park.
Yesterday I recalled the long-ago science lesson about blue stars being hotter than red or yellow ones. Today I though about the oceans—including the Atlantic that churns under the Coney Island Pier getting hotter. Perhaps I will reveal my ignorance of science when I tell you, dear reader, that I wondered whether the ocean will turn bluer as it heats up.
Then more riding along the water—the Verrazano Narrows, under the eponymous bridge —and up to my apartment.
In spite of not having eaten, I didn’t “bonk.” I did, however, start to feel peckish after I crossed the Pulaski Bridge back into Queens. Even if my hunger was psychologically induced, I felt I’d “earned” the big lunch of asparagus, peppers, radishes and mushrooms in a vinaigrette dressing with baby Swiss (Emmental) cheese and corn (maize) tostadas.
