Crossing Bridges After Work

Today I did something I often did when I was young and unattached:  I took a ride after work.  I'm not just talking about the commute home:  I rode through the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening--fifty miles after work.


The best part is that today's ride, like the ones I used to do, was spontaneous.  I took a route I've ridden a number of times before, but it was unplanned.  I did one part of it; then, feeling good, I simply continued.


From 34th Street in Manhattan, where I've been teaching a Saturday class for a technical college, I pedaled up the greenway that skirts the Hudson River.  Because I'm trying to make this story fit all of those cheesy narratives I've ever heard, I'm going to tell you that I was guided by a light.

If you've ever ridden, walked, run, skateboarded (Is that a verb?) or rollerbladed over the Greenway, you've probably seen The Little Red Lighthouse.  Actually, it's called the Jeffrey's Hook Light, but most people refer to it by the name I used, which is also the title of a children's book inspired by the structure.  It hasn't functioned as a lighthouse in decades:  It stands under the George Washington Bridge, which spurred development on both sides of the river, which in turn lit up that treacherous stretch of the Hudson even better than any lighthouse could.  

It was at the lighthouse that I decided to continue riding. So, naturally, I crossed the bridge and rolled along the edge of the Palisades through Bergen and Hudson counties to the Jersey City waterfront.

From there, I continued down through Jersey City and Bayonne to another bridge, which I took to Staten Island and the Ferry named for it.

After I got off the boat, I cycled past Wall Street, the South Street Seaport and up the East Side to one of those bridges, which took me home. 

Hello Helene!

Today I took my third and, so far, longest ride on my Miss Mercian.  

I took a route I've pedalled a number of times before on my other two Mercians and on at least a couple of other bicycles.  But this is the first time I did that ride, which is about 45 miles, on a women's/mixte frame.


From my apartment, I rode over the Queensborough/59th Street Bridge to Manhattan.  Then, I rode up the East Side to East Harlem, where I cut across to West Harlem and continued up to Washington Heights and the George Wahsington Bridge.  Then, I rode along the top of the Palisades from Fort Lee to just north of Jersey City, where I pedalled down to the waterfront.  The docks where a young Marlon Brando pouted and glowered are long gone; now tall condominium towers mute the gazes of children in the park at the base of those buildings.  

Still, there is something I rather like about the light there.  Perhaps it is its consistency:  Whether I am playing chicken with the rain or tag with the sun, everything there always seems tinged with shades of metal, in particular the kind of titanium gray that refracts into gunmetal blues that can turn almost anything from lilac to aqua.  I find it oddly comforting, even soothing.

From there, I rode some less picturesque parts of town to Bayonne, where I rode across the bridge that bears the town's name to Staten Island and the Ferry named after it.


I must say, I was surprised at both the comfort and responsiveness of the bike.  I expected both, though more of the former, as Miss Mercian's geometry is slightly less agressive than that of my other two Mercians.  However, the bike doesn't accelerate quite as quickly as either Arielle or Tosca.  Again, that was something I expected, and even wanted. 




Before today's ride, I switched the tires.  I had a pair of Paselas that, I think, were mis-labelled:  They are marked 700 X 32 C, but they seemed slightly narrower than the 700 X 28C Continental Grand Prix Four-Season tires on my other two Mercians.  The rims could not have accounted for the difference:  I have Mavic Open Pros on all three bikes.  Still, I like the response of the Paselas, so I might try them on either of the other two Mercians when the Contis wear out.


Today  I rode another Panaracer tire:  the RiBMo (I hate the acronym!)  700x35.  It weighs about one and a half times as much as the Paselas, which are about 20 grams heavier than the Contis.  I'm sure they added to the stability of the bike if they took away a bit of its responsiveness.  Since the Miss Mercian is not going to be my "speed machine", I don't mind that. Plus, I think they look more appropriate than the skinnier tires on MM.  So, I think I'm going to keep them on the bike, at least for now.


Speaking of looks:  Check out the way the top tube is joined to the seat tube.

This bike is going to be a lot of fun and will look very  stylish doing it.   And, with her fenders, porteur bars and other accessories, she has a bit of a French accent even if she's English. I've decided to name her Helene.   

Nina: A Nice Person In A Nice Bike Shop

You've probably seen the following in your favorite bike shop:

• MAMILs
• Fitness buffs who want to try a new sport/activity
• Customers who have more money to spend than riding experience
• People who haven't ridden since they were kids and are intimidated by all of the newfangled bikes and accessories
• Women who are there with their boyfriends/husbands--and, much less frequently, men who are there with their girlfriends/wives
• The ones who've decided to go on the next MS (or other charity) ride, but haven't been on a bike in years.

There are other kinds of people you meet in bike shops.  But, based on my experience in working in shops and having visited many others, the people I've mentioned are the one who seem to be found in just about any shop.

Today, I met someone who doesn't fit any of the above categories.  I stopped in the shop--James Vincent Bicycles of North Bergen, NJ --in the middle of today's ride.  The shop has been in business for 75 years and, even though it carries "serious" racing and mountain bikes from the likes of Cannondale, Trek and Giant, it attracts a lot of people from the immediate neighborhood, sometimes for non-bike-related issues.

The young woman I met today is one of those neighborhood denizens.  Actually, her father was there for a non-bike issue, and she accompanied him.

But she wasn't one of those bored and resentful family members who doesn't share her relative's enthusiasm for cycling.  In fact, she was on the same kind of wheels as her father rode:

Nina could get around perfectly well without that cart.  But her father couldn't:  He had no legs.  He'd gone to the shop to have something in the chasis tightened:  He could feel it coming loose, and it would've taken only a decent-sized hole or crack in the sidewalk or pavement to immobilize him.


I only got to talk with Nina briefly.  She seemed like a very nice and intelligent young woman.  I'm guessing that she rode her cart to the shop so that her father would have it in case he needed to leave his at the shop.  Even if that's the case, she's doing a great thing in helping him and experiencing, however briefly, the world as her father does.


I rode behind them for a few blocks until they turned.  I continued down the Jersey side of the Hudson River to the Bayonne Bridge, and through Staten Island to the Ferry.  I'm not religious, but I can say I felt blessed:  two good legs, a great bike, a beautiful day and an interesting ride.

Where Am I? In My Favorite Season

What is your favorite time of year for cycling?

For me, the answer has varied throughout my life.  I guess it had a lot to do with my over-arching mood at that time in my life.  For example, I have loved Fall riding at different times for the colorful foliage, the sunset light that simmers into a chill, or just the melancholy (definition:  aesthetically sad) feeling. 

Right now, I might say the month of May because--ironically--because of its colors, which include many shades of purple.  But one thing I truly love is that there is more daylight with each day:  a trend that will continue until late in June, when Summer begins.

Those extra minutes and hours of daylight mean that even if I am busy during the morning and afternoon, I can take a ride late in the day.  I have lights, but I prefer to ride in daylight whenever I can.

Which I did yesterday.  After pedaling to the World Trade Center, I took the PATH train to Jersey City and rode down to Bayonne, where I crossed the bridge into Staten Island--and the Ferry.

I took these photos with my iPhone.  Depending on which way I turned, each was recorded as a different locality.  This one is recorded as "Bayonne"

and these are "Brooklyn"

Even this

which is every tourist's vision of the Manhattan skyline, is marked "Brooklyn."  I took all of those photos within a couple of minutes, from the ferry deck, and did nothing more than turn at a slightly different angle with each shot.

Ironically, I would ride through Brooklyn on my way home.

An After-Work Ride Falls Into Sunset

The other day, I took Negrosa, my vintage Mercian Olympic on an after-work ride in Jersey City, Bayonne and Staten Island.  

I just missed a Staten Island Ferry to Manhattan.  The day was Classic Fall—clear, cool and crisp and I’d brought a book I’ve been reading (yes, a real book—nothing digital!) so I didn’t mind the wait—12 minutes, as it turned out—for the next boat.

That delay was rewarding—in an aesthetic sense, anyway.  What I witnessed from the deck of that ferry boat made me wish that my camera were as old-school (i.e. with film) as my book. Or, better yet, that I had an easel and palette.

There hardly could have been  a better ending to a Classic Fall day—and ride.  Some people say autumn sunsets are the most beautiful of all. I wouldn’t argue with them.

After I disembarked in Battery Park, twilight flickered to my left as I pedaled by the South Street Seaport, across the Williamsburg Bridge and up through the neighborhood for which the bridge is named to my place in Astoria.

The Ride Ends With A Light Show

I've long felt that one of the nicest ways to end a long bike ride is with a boat ride.  That's one of the reasons I pedal across the George Washington Bridge, and down the Jersey Palisades, Jersey City and Bayonne to Staten Island, where I hop on the ferry.



When I first started to ride, I was cursing myself for not getting on my bike until well into the afternoon.  But the weather had turned from briskly to pleasantly cool, and rays of sunshine were peeking through clouds that blanketed the sky but didn't really threaten rain.  The last few miles of my bike ride, and the one on the ferry, turned into a light show:

Smooth Sailing

On a hot day, one of the best ways to end a bike ride is with a boat ride.  That I did today on the Staten Island Ferry, after a ride on Helene that took me up the Bronx cliffs, across Manhattan, down the New Jersey Palisades into Hoboken, Jersey City and Bayonne, then, finally, over the bridge into Staten Island.


One of the nice things about riding on a hot day with low humidity, as I did today, is that the weather isn't nearly as oppressive as it is with high humidity.  On the other hand, if you're like me, you drink anything and everything in sight.  Still, I think I got to the Ferry less fatigued than these guys:

Helene is in front; the bikes behind her were ridden by the two recliners.  At least nobody can be accused of reading over this guy's shoulder!:

As befitting a high-class English lady with some French culture, Helene was her usual modest self:

With her, the ride was definitely smooth sailing: