Cinco de Mayo Bike Jam

In my time, I've cycled on pretty much every holiday you can think of, including ones I never celebrated.  For that matter, I've probably cycled on holidays without even knowing it.

I'd guess that, in most years, I've ridden on Cinco de Mayo, whether it was a weekend day ride or simply a commute to work, as I did today.  But I never did a ride like this:

I suppose that's about as appropriate a ride as any for this fete.  This ride was scheduled for today in--where else?--Texas.  It was in Austin, to be precise.  If I'm not mistaken, that's Lance Armstrong's hometown.


I wonder whether he ever did a ride like that.  BMX is one of the few kinds of riding I've never done, mainly because I was a bit old for it by the time it came along.  That, and bicycle polo.  But who'd play a game of bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo?   I would, just because "bicycle polo on Cinco de Mayo" has a nice ring to it, verdad?  (I couldn't type an upside-down question mark before "verdad.")  


Anyway...Did you do a ride to commemorate this day?  Or did you just do a ride and eat Mexican food afterward?  Actually, that's what I did.  And I washed it down with a "virgin" margarita. That's how I reward myself for doing something I enjoy.  Es una buena vida, verdad?

A Bike I'll Own For Two Weeks

I wasn't going to mention this.  But if you've been following this blogs, you're probably curious about the bikes that come my way.

Here's something I bought--albeit very cheaply--on impulse:

It's a Bridgestone MB-6 from, what I can tell, 1994.  That would make it one of the last Bridgestones to be imported to this country.  In the mid-1990's, the dollar lost a lot of value against the yen, which caused Bridgestone, along with Japanese bike makers,to cease their operations in the US.

I debated whether to keep it or sell it.  If I were to do the latter, I could almost certainly make a decent profit, given how little I paid for the bike and the fact that some cyclists and collectors seek out Bridgestones.  Plus, the bike is in excellent condition.  I don't think it was ridden much.  Or, it may have been ridden a lot for a season or two, then stored.    From what I can see, all of the equipment is original.  And there are a couple of large scratches, but the paint is in excellent condition overall.  It's a dark metallic blue with a slight tinge of purple--something like the color of the Velo Orange mixte frame.

After some careful consideration--keep or sell--I decided to do...neither.  No, I'm not being indecisive again.  Rather, I decided to take a third course of action.  

Some of you may have already figured out what I'm doing:  I'm donating the bike. In a previous post,  I mentioned a program in Westchester County that helps immigrants.  They actually have a bicycle workshop where they repair and refurbish donated bicycles that are given to the immigrants, mainly young men, who use them for transportation.

Actually, as I understand, the bikes are used as rewards for completing other tasks and taking English classes.  That made the idea of donating this Bridgestone even more appealing:  Whoever ends up with it will be getting a really good bike, but will have merited it in some way. So, I hope, that person will appreciate it.

I mean, I feel better about donating something I might have used myself.  Better yet, it's a bike I might have--say, when I first started riding off-road--bought with money I earned.  So I don't feel like I'm merely "getting rid" of the bike. 

On Tuesday, I'm going to bring it to work, where my co-worker who volunteers with the program will pick it up and give me a receipt. 

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: