Resettting

The threat of rain was real:  By early afternoon, intense thunderstorms dumped two to four inches of rain, depending on where you were, on this area.  So I don't regret not having gone for a ride today. 

I don't mind riding on a warm, rainy day.  But the lightning looked particularly dangerous today.  I'm glad I wasn't out in some open area when it struck.

The rain has continued into this evening.  I had the opportunity to catch up on a few things, one involving a writing project.  That I did them earlier than I'd planned means that I'll get to bed earlier tonight.  That will be good, for I've wanted to reset my clock so I can go out for some early morning rides.   I plan to do that tomorrow, with Lakythia, my new riding partner.  

Believe it or not, I once had a year in which I rode 361 days. Back then, I would have been pouty and nasty and worse over missing a day of riding.  But I think I needed this day.  I would not have understood something like that back in the day.

Another Mercian?

If you've been reading this blog, you know that I never, ever do anything irrational.  Right?

So, what I just did doesn't qualify as irrational. Perhaps if I were more religious, or were still enamored of Kierkegaard, I would say it was a leap of faith.  To those who know me best, it might just be a typical act of visionariness (Is there such a word?) or pure and simple insanity.

What did I just do?  I've bid on another bike on eBay.

However, it isn't just any bike:

It's a 1997 Miss Mercian. The fellow who's selling it bought it after a hip injury prevented him from using a diamond (or "men's") frame.  He set it up, he says, as a tour/commute bike.

If I were rich, I would buy the bike just to give it a good home.  And, yes, that is one of my intentions.  However, I thought of some practical ways in which I could use the bike.

The frame size is a centimeter bigger (at the seat tube) than any of the Mercians I now have.  And its top tube is a centimeter and a half longer.  If the bike fits the way I think it will, I might swap the drop bars for North Road-style bars, or Porteur bars (like the ones on Helene) on a stem with a shorter reach.  And, of course, I'll change the saddle.  Then it might become my transport bike.  (In that case, I might even put drop bars  on Helene.)

I've given myself a limit as to how high I'll bid because the bike is in England, which means that shipping it will be expensive.  But I do like the way the bike looks.  And I don't think I would change anything else, at least in the beginning, besides the bars and saddle.  The components are all good-quality, and the bike has a rack and fenders.

The auction for the bike ends Sunday afternoon.  This will give me something to obssess over between now and then!

The Day After An After-Work Ride

After yesterday's spontaneous after-work adventure, I just did a normal commute today, over one of my normal routes.  But, as the weather was about ten degrees (F) hotter than it was yesterday, and the humidity rose in tandem with the temperature, the normal commute was more of a workout than it usually is.  Plus, Marianela is a considerably heavier than Helene.  She can't help it; she's got heavier tubes in her frame.  At least she doesn't seem to have body image issues.

And I won't, either, even though my students surprised me with this today:

Hmm..,Maybe I should've taken another ride after work!

A Voyage After A Great Labour

This is the story of an excellent after-work adventure.  (Can you believe that twenty-two years have passed since that movie came out?  Can you believe that, just about every year, someone has managed to make a movie even dumber than that one?)

Anyway, about my excellent after-work adventure on an excellent and fair day:  It goes to show how English ladies, after getting a little bit of French culture, lead impressionable young women down all sorts of paths they never planned:

Well, OK, I'm not so young anymore.  As for impressionable....All right.  This lady certainly didn't protest when she whispered, "Let us abscond!"


And abscond we did, first through an exotic land:

West 139th Street, Harlem, NYC

From thence she transported me to a land where the language spoken was not mine:

Union City, NJ:  No es necesario para hablar ingles aqui.

Then, after our journey down a mighty river, we came upon a realm of ships and bridges: 

From the Staten Island Ferry

Thence we boarded a great vessel and countenanced many more bridges:

Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges, seen from the Staten Island Ferry

Finally, we encountered an aged but fine vessel:

And so ended our great voyage: 

(Somehow I get the feeling that this is the image many people have of American History--or of immigration, anyway!)

Yes, twas a sweet voyage.  This young maiden gaped in disbelief upon realizing she had pedaled over 45 miles in her after-work ride.   She was well contented, for I am that maiden.     

So ends this tale of an excellent after-work adventure.               

Showing Their Colors On The Fourth

Hello there!  Today is the Fourth of Joo-lie.  


Yes, it's American Independence Day.  And it's my birthday.  But I can't say I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy:  I was born in Georgia!  Then again, it was one of the thirteen colonies that declared independence.


(One thing they never teach in American History classes, at least in the US, is that there were really fifteen colonies.  Thirteen seceded.  The other two, Quebec and Nova Scotia, didn't.  The reality is that they couldn't:  Nova Scotia was the North American base for the Royal Navy, and Montreal and Quebec City were essentially garrisons for the Royal Army.  But I digress.)


Anyway, on a day like today, what better theme than red-white-and blue bicycles?

Perhaps it's not surprising that red-white and blue bikes come out in the wake of victories by American riders.  It seemed that during the reign of Lance, every other Trek model had some sort of variation on the flag that poet Bill Knott referred to as "a starry sweatband of cheese."

All right, it's a Do-Rag.  My question is:  Will it fit under my helmet?  


Back when I was training in Prospect Park, I sometimes rode with a guy who wore a yarmulke under his helmet.  And the fringes of his tallit dangled from underneath the hem of his jersey.  I also sometimes rode with an observant Jewish woman who carried a skirt in her jersey pocket.  As soon as she got off the bike, she pulled the skirt on.  Where else but in America, right?


Speaking of Americana:  Like baseball, basketball and snowboarding, mountain biking originated in the USA.  So, of course I had to include a mountain bike here:

And, of course, the Fourth is not complete without parades and such.  And there are always kids on bikes.  This one's for them:

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't end my homage to red, white and blue bicycles on the Fourth without mentioning the web page of someone who has a red, a white and a blue Cannondale.