The Longest Day

 The Summer Solstice arrives today in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s the official first day of summer, and “the longest day.”

Some clubs and individuals have planned “longest day” rides to take advantage of the long stretch of daylight.  I am going to take such a ride later.

In my youth, I did a “longest day” ride that spanned the entire day and state of New Jersey. We began at dawn at High Point, where the states of New Jersey, New York and Pennsylvania meet, and pedaled just over 200 miles to Cape May, about 50 miles south of Atlantic City.. (No, we didn’t go to AC.)

Honestly, I don’t remember much about the ride.  I hadn’t slept the night before because I was so concerned about missing the meetup—at 3am, if I recall correctly—and van ride to the start point.

The flickering of dawn was about the only sunlight we saw that day.  The good  news was that the sun wasn’t beating down on us on that humid day.  The bad news  was that the humidity fell on us—as showers somewhere around Clinton and in a torrent just south of Prlinceton.

Cape May juts into the Atlantic Ocean and Delaware Bay about 50 miles south of Atlantic City. (No, we didn’t go to AC!) The pizza we ate, in large quantities, wouldn’t have passed muster in my old Brooklyn neighborhood or northern Jersey Shore (Long Branch and Asbury Park) hangouts.  And I have no idea of what kind of beer we drank, pitcher after pitcher.  Few things, though, have ever tasted better—or more earned, at the end of the Longest Day.

P.S.  There is an edited version of Saturday’s post on The Daily Kos.

Happy Father's Day!

This has to be one of the best bicycle-themed Father's Day images I've seen.

 

From Depositphotos

Juneteenth Ride And Reflection

Today is Juneteenth, the date in 1865 when slaves on Galveston Island, Texas would become the last to learn they were no longer slaves--at least, not officially.

This morning I took a bike ride out to Fort Totten. I wanted to get some miles in before the heat and rain roll in this afternoon.  Plus, I wanted to do something easy after pedaling to Connecticut yesterday.  My morning ride totaled about 20 miles, which I did on Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear.

Just this week, President Biden signed the bill declaring Juneteenth a Federal holiday, which was observed (and offices were closed) yesterday, as today is Saturday.  That means the holiday will be observed on Friday or Monday next year, as it will fall on Sunday.

From the Detroit MetroTimes

As I rode, I reflected on this date.  In my first paragraph, I said that the slaves were officially free. But just how free are African Americans today. I pondered, for example, whether I would have been taking my ride alone--or at all--were my skin and hair darker.  Given the stories I've heard from friends and acquaintances, and of Ahmaud Arbery,  I have to wonder how many African-Americans or dark-skinned Latinx people--or, in some places, Asians--don't go out for a bike ride, a run, a hike or even a walk because they don't know whether they'll make it back.  That could be one of the reasons why African-Americans of nearly all age, education and income levels have worse health outcomes than even poor white people who didn't finish high school.  (In my home state, the Bronx--which is overwhelmingly nonwhite--ranks last in health outcomes of New York's 62 counties.)

If people don't feel free to leave their homes so they can exercise--or shop, go to a library or museum or attend a concert--just how free are they?

That is why I am glad that President Biden made Juneteenth a holiday.  I am all for commemorating it with bike rides and other events.  I just hope that it doesn't degenerate into another orgy of shopping or other excesses, which too many other holidays that should be serious occasions have become.

R.I.P. Harris Cyclery

Perhaps you've already heard:  Harris Cyclery of West Newton, Massachusetts closed its doors on Sunday, the 13th.  Their online ordering service--which I've used a few times--is also gone.

I stumbled over the bad news when Googling one of Sheldon Brown's tech pages.  He, of course, is how I learned of the shop in the first place--about 40 years ago, if I recall correctly, when I read an article he wrote about wheelbuilding.  At that time, of course, the website didn't exist, but when I got up to Boston, I made a point of visiting the shop.  Alas, he was away.  But I did get to meet him on a subsequent visit.  He was about what you expected if you read any of his writing:  warm, generous with advice and posessed of a quirky sense of humor.  

Sheldon Brown

Those are traits I also encountered in other Harris staffers.  They, and Sheldon, did much to promote everyday as well as recreational cycling in and around Boston.  So did their predecessors at Harris.  They had to:  When the shop first opened its doors 70 years ago (in a different building), it was one of the few anywhere in the US to offer high-quality, high-performance bikes and parts for the few adult everyday cyclists as well as enthusiasts of the time.  In other words, they helped to keep the flame lit during what Sheldon has called the "Dark Ages" of American cycling, which spanned roughly two decades after World War II.

It's always distressing to lose any beloved small business.  What makes the loss of Harris so disturbing, though, is that it shows us no shop may be immune to the vicissitudes of the marketplace. Being a New Yorker, my first thought was, "Their landlord wouldn't renew their lease--or wanted to increase the rent by an outrageous amount."  From what information I've gleaned, however, it seems that Harris got caught in the vortex that sucked in many other shops during the past few months:  After a COVID-fueled "boom" in sales, their showroom was bare.  They were able to keep themselves going with repair work--until they couldn't get any more parts, due to disrupted supply chains.  Customers, naturally, don't want to wait months for a new bike, much less a repair or tuneup--or to buy a helmet, lock or light.  

My biggest concern, though, is Sheldon's pages.  In addition to containing more useful information and insights--and well-informed, if at times cranky, opinions-- than just about any other site or guide, it's a continuation of his legacy, a dozen years after his passing.  I hope we don't lose those pages along with the shop!

She’s A Champion. Sign Me Up!

 Molly Cameron has become one of my heroes.  Her decades as a cyclo-cross racer and in the bicycle industry has given her a platform—which she isn’t shy about using—to advocate for gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights.

In April, she announced that she won’t be going to a CX World Cup event in October or the 2022 World Championships if, as currently scheduled, they’re held in Arkansas. “I won’t be spending any money in Arkansas or any other state that is passing laws to discriminate against the LGBT community,” she said.

Now she’s going even further:  She’s opened a GoFundMe page to raise money for her advocacy work as she launches a national organization for LGBTQ+ representation in the bicycle industry and sport.

Sign me up!