Although there was a time--in my days as Nick--when I was lifting weights and doing other kinds of training in addition to my cycling, I don't think I ever became a "gym rat." In fact, I have not spent much time in gyms since I was in college. The atmosphere in most is oppressive, albeit in different ways: Some gyms are simply physically depressing, others were little more than glorified singles bars and still others--the ones used mainly by young men--were just terrifying to me.
In other words, I never felt the safety or solitude that I have on my bike. Riding a stationary bike in a gym never had the same appeal for me that the open road or trail has.
I guess other people feel something like I feel. That might be the reason why someone invented this:
I guess the inventor of this figured that if one couldn't bring a bike into the gym, one could instead bring the gym to the bike!
It seems--at least in this part of the world--that the colors of October are celebrated more than those of any other month.
Reverence for the hues of that month are certainly just. However, some of what I saw on today's ride left me absolutely stunned.
I saw this on the wooden bridge in the Randall's Island nature preserve:
Oh, but the visual feast didn't end there. Barretto Point Park was closed, probably because of flood damage and weakened trees that might fall at any given moment. However,through the fence, I saw this:
and this:
I know that the hues of autumn sunsets are particularly rich. But lately it seems the skies are outdoing themselves. I wonder whether it has anything to do with the recent storms.
My ride today was short. But the name of this park, about three miles from my place, says it all:
This piece of real estate is in Rego Park, a Queens neighborhood that is currently home to thousands of emigres--many of whom are Jewish-- from Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Russia. It gets its name from the Real Good Construction company, which developed most of the neighborhood in the early 20th Century.
If you are visiting the neighborhood for the first time and it seems familiar, you've probably read Art Spiegelman's graphic novel Maus. The scenes with his aged Polish Jewish father are all set in the neighborhood, where Spiegelman grew up.
Anyway, as you can probably tell, today's ride was short but Real Good.
People don't usually associate the hustle and bustle of New York City with the past, much less with history. However, the only major American cities that have as much to offer history buffs are Boston and Philadelphia.
It makes sense: After all, New York, Boston and Philadelphia are among the oldest major cities in the United States. Also, in part because of its size and location. all sorts of people have found their way here. As a result, all sorts of interesting events have happened here.
So it probably wouldn't surprise you to know that one of my favorite non-bike blogs, The Bowery Boys, is devoted to the history of this metropolis.
Today's post features a podcast about a nearly two centuries of bicycles and bicycling in The Big Apple. Human-powered two-wheeled vehicles have played some rather surprising roles in some of this city's happenings, and some people you wouldn't expect to be involeved with them, are and were.
Sometimes the younger generation doesn't believe me when I tell them that there was a time when messengers and others who rode fixed-gear bikes weren't hipsters. In case you don't believe me, I'll give you this image from The Bowery Boys:
You have to admit, though, he is stylish.
OK, so I didn't load Vera like this:
But I did carry a good bit more than I usually take on my daily commutes. I took a cell phone photo and accidentally deleted it!
I carried an old Compaq computer, which I strapped to my new Civia Mission rack. On top of that, I strapped a yoga-type bag filled with half a dozen cans of tuna, two boxes of pasta, a box of raisins and some gloves, scarves, skull and watch caps and head bands.
And I attached one of my Carradice Barley bags to my saddle. I didn't strap the bottom to the seat post. Rather, I let the bag rest horizontally on top of the stuff I'd lashed to the rack.
And, on the front, I carried a small parcel, which I'd intended to mail on the way but didn't until after my last class had ended.
So why did I carry so much? At the college where I work, there's been a collection for victims of Superstorm Sandy. In such emergencies, non-perishable foods are always in demand. And, when the weather turns colder, people need warm clothes and accessories.
Finally, someone had put out a call for older laptop computers for students who'd been affected by the storm. The tech support people at the college are going to update them with contemporary operating systems.
I know, I could have taken the train or bus. But I wanted to ride my bike, well, just because I could. It's nice to know that Vera can handle it so well.
Yesterday, "Velouria" , the author of Lovely Bicycle! posted about a possible trend-in-the-making for low-trail bikes.
Briefly, trail is the distance between the point where the "rubber meets the road" and the point at which the steering axis intercepts the ground. Racing bikes usually have more trail than touring or randonneuring bikes; that's why their steering is more sensitive. On the other hand, tourists and randonneurs have traditionally preferred the stability a shorter-trail bike offers, especially if they are carrying loads on the front.
I suppose that if I did loaded touring or randonneuring regularly, or if I hadn't spent so much time riding road bikes, I'd prefer a lower-trail design. That said, I won't try to dissuade anyone who actually prefers the ride of a low-trail bike and doesn't want it merely as the latest fashion accessory on which to hang a $200 front rack that will, as "Ground Round Jim" caustically comments, never carry anything more than a vegan croisssant.
Now if you really want low trail, take a look at this:
