Two Hours of Light Rides

Yesterday I made a confession to my doctor.

Well, all right, he's not my primary care physician or gynecologist (yes, I have one of those), so my revelation wasn't as life-changing as you might expect.  I was, you see, a little bit naughty.

I told the orthopedist about this:

The other day was one of those utterly glorious fall days that seems to exist in postcards and catalogues that peddle someone's idea of New England country life. (You know, flannel shirts, apple-picking and the like!)  Even though I only had to wait one more day (actually, less) for my appointment, I went for a ride.

I pedaled only for an hour, along one of the easiest routes I could take:  down the new Crescent Street bike lane to 36th Avenue and the bridge to Roosevelt Island, which I looped twice.  I ended the hour with a ramble along a few side streets back to my apartment.

It was only an hour, but it was enough to lift my spirits. Maybe it had something to do with the softly smoldering late-day sunlight where the East River (misnamed, by the way) splits into Long Island Sound and the Harlem River (also misnamed) and separates Queens (where I live) and Manhattan from the North American mainland.

I did not feel separated from anything.  Maybe that's why I felt comfortable in "confessing" it.  The orthopedic doctor said it was fine; I am recovering well but I should "proceed slowly." Which I will, of course.

In fact, that's what I did today:  another late-day, one-hour ride, this time along streets that wind along the shoreline between my neighborhood and LaGuardia Airport.

The Hell Gate Bridge is always a nice frame for the sunset at Astoria Park--especially with fallen leaves in the autumn light.  But who knew a side street--26th, to be exact--in Astoria could seem like a gate of heaven?

Of course I want to go on the longer rides. But if one-hour rides can fill me with such light and color, I guess I can be a little bit patient.

Wins

I've held off on saying anything about the election results because, you know, I didn't want to be accused of "stealing" it by calling it "prematurely."  Or someone might think I stuffed my panniers with ballots from dead people and brought them to the Queens County election office.

Seriously, though:  I think you know the way I feel.  Just about anybody has to be better than El Cheeto Grande for, well, almost anything you can think of--including bicycling.

Speaking of which:  According to People for Bikes (an organization I heartily endorse), this year Americans voted more than $1 billion for projects, including lanes and trails,  that support cycling.

From People for Bikes

Although I have complained about the faulty conception, design and construction of many bike lanes (including some I ride regularly), I am glad when a lane or other piece of bike infrastructure is created, or an education program is launched.  Even when these things are done poorly, I try to keep hope that they're steps to "getting it right."  Too many planners don't yet understand cycling; I figure it will take time for them to learn--or to be replaced by people who have experienced our realities.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed about that--and the Senate: If it's split evenly between the Democrats and Republicans, Kamala Harris will be the tie-breaker.

Double Trouble?

I've ridden tandems only twice in my life.  Each time, I rode with a different partner.  So I never had to think about the logistical challenges tandem-cycling couples face:

From HipPostcard

A Cyclists' Bridge To A City's History

Providence, Rhode Island billed itself the "jewelry making capital of the world."  For nearly two centuries before the 1980s, that claim was justifiable: In 1978, when the industry peaked, 33,574 people worked in 1,374 Rhode Island companies that were classified as making "jewelry, silverware and miscellaneous notions," according to the state's Department of Labor and Training.

Not coincidentally, during that time Providence was an important shipping port:  second only to Boston in New England.  Of course, not all maritime cargo was related to rings and amulets, but a significant portion certainly was.  So, the decline of the industry and the port were, to some degree, tied together.  But another reason why fewer ships entered and left Providence's harbor in 1990 than in 1890 was Interstate 195.  The I-195 span replaced the Washington Bridge, a bascule (movable) span. In addition to blocking ships from the inner harbor, I-195, like other Interstates, hastened the decline of traditional ports like Providence, Boston, New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles that did no have easy access to the highway.

I mention all of these aspects of Providence's history because, in addition to being a jewelry-making center, Providence, like other industrial cities, had a thriving bicycle industry during the 1890s.  As in other American cities, bike-making declined (or ceased to exist) after World War I and few adults pedaled.  

But now, as in other places, cycling in Providence has undergone a renaissance, fueled largely by young people who have moved to the city.  As in nearby Boston and New York, those new cyclists complained about the lack of safe streets and driver awareness.  This has led to the construction of bike lanes and other efforts, misguided at times, to make the city more "bike friendly."

One such effort seems practical.  Whatever else it may be, it's certainly picturesque.  I'm talking about the newly-opened Providence River Pedestrian and Bicycle Bridge.  The span allows cyclists to pedal between the city's Fox Point neighborhood and the waterfront parks on the edge of the Jewelry/Innovation District.  The span is at least as lovely as some of the brooches and necklaces made in the city:  The bridge's curved edges are clad in wood, evoking the designs of ships that plied the harbor.  Better yet, its surface is lined with a wildflower garden and benches that allow passerby to pause and take in the cityscape.

Oh, and the bridge is built on granite piers that supported an I-195 viaduct before the highway was rerouted during the 1990s.

Photo by Steve Kroodsma/Kroo Photgraphy

So, the new Providence River Pedestrian and Bicycle Bridge spans, not only a body of water, but a city's history--and serves the needs and wants of present-day urban dwellers.  It sounds like a "gem" to me.

Georgia On My Samajwadi Mind

 

Right now, I have Georgia on my mind for a good reason:  It might deliver the presidency to Joe Biden.  Poll workers in the Peach State are still counting ballots, but some time in the wee hours of this morning, the lead shifted to Joe.

I still think about him riding rings around a Fox reporter a few weeks ago.  Trump, on the other hand, keeps at least a few tire rotations from bicycles.  Even if people hadn't seen Biden on Bike or Trump treading on cyclists, they might more readily associate bicycles and cyclists with Democrats than with Republicans.  That makes sense if you look only at the two major parties.  Me, I'd associate bikes with the Green or Working Families party first, but if I had to choose between the donkey or the elephant, I would remember that it's easier to ride--or just get things done--on the former rather than the latter.

(But, really, you shouldn't interpret what I've just said as an endorsement of any candidate, I swear--with my fingers crossed behind my back!)

Whichever American political party you associate with two wheels, two pedals and a set of handlebars, none can compare India's Samajwadi Party:  Its symbol is a bicycle.