After Work: Following The Darling Buds Of May

Last night, after work, I rode to Fort Totten. It's become one of my favorite places to "decompress" because of scenes like this:  

At the end of a sunny day that warmed up considerably, clouds gathered at the end of the day.  Still, I find the view rather striking.  Steel suspension bridges are great for that:  they glow in the rays of the setting sun as well as they reflect the grays and blues of the bay and sky.


Apparently, other people felt the same way:

This place even seems to calm down my bikes.  All right, I don't think Helene has been there yet.  Her turn is coming.  Arielle and Tosca feel peaceful yet energized by that place; Marianela likes it after carting me and my books at the end of the day:

She leadeth me beside the still waters...All right, I won't blaspheme something some of you may still revere.  Besides, the waters weren't exactly still.  She didn't lead me down a straight and narrow path, either.  (Now tell me:  You didn't think I did straight and narrow, did you?)  What she led me to, instead, was a trail of the darling buds of May:

I'm greatly relieved that they're not rose petals.  Love would be great right about now.  Marriage, not so much.  Besides, as curious as I am, I don't follow every trail I encounter. I guess that's one of those things that happens when you get older.


I'm happy that they're the buds of cherry blossoms.  It seems that there are more of those trees in this city's parks and in front of people's houses every year.  I've always loved them; few things say "spring!" more than that bright pink color.  I don't remember seeing them when I was a kid:  Is the planting of them in this city and country a recent phenomenon?


Anyway...I followed that trail of petals.  They led me home.  And I fell into a very restorative sleep.

Is It Still A Boardwalk?

Yesterday, before meeting Avi and Jesse (the guys who were riding "stacked" bicycles), I'd ridden along the Rockaway Boardwalk.  That is normally part of my trek to and from Point Lookout.  However, part of it was closed because it was being reconstructed.

The past couple of years, and this past winter in particular, have not been kind to the boardwalk.  Many of the wooden slats were rotting away or had grown brittle even before the bad weather, and it seems that we've had more coastal storms during the past two or three years than at any other time I can recall.  

I guess the city's Parks Department saw how much hard wood costs these days and decided to use concrete instead. I'm guessing that it will hold up to the elements better or, at least, won't splinter and rot the way wood does.  

Some cyclists might actually prefer the smoother concrete surface.  But there's still a part of me that likes the clackety-clack of my tires across those boards.

Romantic notions of seaside rambles aside, there is one very good, practical reason not to like the new concrete slabs:

There is a section of the eastern part of the boardwalk, near Far Rockaway, where the work is complete and the concrete boardwalk is open.  There are two gaps, as large as the one in this photo, that run along the length of the walk.  

Of course, it's a good thing that there are only two such gaps, as opposed to the dozens of spaces between the wooden boards.  On the other hand, the gaps between these concrete slabs are much wider than the ones between the wooden boards, and are thus more likely to catch a bicycle wheel.  Plus, falling on concrete is more painful than falling on wood--assuming, of course, that you don't get splinters.

Even though I'm not so crazy about the aesthetics of the concrete walk and worried about the gaps, I'll reserve my judgment until I've ridden the concrete at least a few times.

Still, I must ask:  If it's made of concrete slabs, can we still call it a boardwalk?

Reaching For The Skies On Our Bikes

Twice I have pedaled through clouds and once, when looking into the horizon, I saw a jet cruising at an altitude a few hundred feet lower than the peak I had just ascended on my bike.


So, as you can imagine, I have respect for Avi and Jesse:

They were riding down a side street near the boardwalk in Long Beach, on the South Shore of Nassau County.  They had just ridden on that boardwalk, as I would soon afterward.  

Avi, who's in this photo, and Jesse are members of a hardcore-punkish-funkish band called White Goblin.  As if that isn't enough to make realize how middle-aged and bourgeois I am, they said they've been to nearly every Critical Mass ride for the past ten years or so.  


They--especially Avi--are very engaging, and that is almost reason enough to go to their next performance.  I wonder whether they'll go to it on the bikes they rode today:

They built their two-story bikes from a variety of frames and parts.  They even did their own welding.  It's not the most elegant work, but I give them "props" for it. After all, I've never welded anything.  


And, yes, Jesse was riding in his bare feet.


Perhaps that's not as shocking as the three-high bike he told me he built, or the double-decker tandem (made from two tandems) Avi says he made.

For these guys, a Pedersen would be a "comfort" bike.


They expressed as much admiration for Arielle as I did for their bikes.  


Then it was off to Point Lookout, for my first ride there this year. 

And Arielle soaked up the rays:

Motorists With Spring Fever

Today was one of those spring days when the wind, brisk as it was, felt like a form of light and the mild, almost warm, air held nary a hint that there could be strife in this world.


We, as cyclists, live for days like this.  Actually, I can't think of anyone who wouldn't look forward to such a day.

But every year, on the first definitively Spring day (as opposed to the first day with spring-like weather), some people lose their grip on themselves, especially when they're driving.  Some might be young and have just fallen in love; others simply are intoxicated, perhaps. 


So, along with the lovely weather came some absolutely crazy drivers.  You know the kind I mean: the ones who cut across lanes and make turns without signalling, or simply don't pay attention to the road ahead or beside them.  Or the ones that drive close enough to you to scrape the crochet backing off your gloves and let their dogs bark, drool or chomp out of the back windows. "Awww...isn't he the cutest thing you ever saw..."


I think that such weather, and the beginning of spring,  coming later than usual affets people, including me, in all sorts  of ways.  Sometimes it's fun, but when someone cuts across the lanes, not so much


Oh well.  I made it home from work.  And tomorrow we  will have more l

Kneecapped by Walmart?

It's a conspiracy, I tell ya.  The other night, my flight from Atlanta was delayed by almost three hours.  So I got home late Monday night and didn't feel like doing much of anything. (When I go to my parents', I usually fly to Atlanta, then to one of the NY Metro area airports.)  

Then, last night, I didn't have any internet connection.


Ya no, I got to thinkin' that Sam Wall himself was behind everything.  Mr. Wall, I'm sorry about all of those terrible things I said about your fine retail establishment.  I will never, ever use the name "Wal-Mart" in the perjorative, ever again.  Yes, I promise (as I use Catholic school birth control, a.k.a., I cross my fingers).


So now you think I'm a conspiracy theorist.  Well, not really.  I haven't said anything bad about Obama since he showed his birth certificate.  (All right, I never was a "birther.")  But sometimes I think certain people-- e.g., certain retail plutocrats--have it in for me.  Or could it be that the gods of something are angry--or crazy?


And I haven't done any cycling since I got home.  Something's afoot, and it ain't my old Detto Pietro shoes with TA Anquetil cleats (the kind that nailed onto the sole).  

I know.  I'll get to ride again.  At my age, I should know that.  Still, I worry that I'll lose this spring, the way I lost most of last spring.  Well, not quite:  Last spring, I had infections and other illnesses.  At least this year, my excuses are Life and the weather.  (For a few moments just after noon, the sky grew ominously dark and  I thought we might see another tornado here in NYC.)


At least for the last couple of days I had memories of a couple of pleasant, if short, rides from my parents' house.