You Never Know What You'll Find Or When It Will Come In Handy

Today was beautiful.  But it was still hard to believe that summer is--officially, at any rate--just a month a way.  


It was pretty brisk when I started to ride down toward Coney Island.  But it warmed up fairly quickly as I pedaled through Long Island City and across the bridge into Brooklyn.  I could even feel the sun warming my face in the cool breeze as my wheels spun--without any effort on my part, it seemed--by the East River on the Kent Avenue bike lane.  


The air felt positively summery as I passed the Botanical Gardens and crossed Empire Boulevard--near the site of the former Ebbets Field--into Flatbush.  In fact, I was starting to wish I'd brought one of my water bottles with me.  Of course, riding through Brooklyn isn't the same as riding through the Mojave Desert: After all, there are plenty of delis and bodegas where one can get something to drink. 


Still, I kept on riding.   I felt as if I were actually going to ride straight into summer until I crossed under the Belt Parkway overpass.  As soon as I emerged from its shadow, the sun seemed even brighter.  But it also seemed about twenty degrees cooler--as if I'd pedaled from July back into April.  That's because I was by Sheepshead Bay.  The ocean lay not much more than a kilometer away.  


That's one of the differences between a spring and, say, a fall ride around here.  While the air temperature rose to about 75F (24C), the ocean temperature has yet to reach 60F (15C).   The differences between inland and shore temperatures were even more pronounced a few weeks ago, but they were still noticeable today.


As it happened, I'd left something in Arielle's bag that came in handy:

It's an old Sugoi jacket with a light lining:  One of the last pieces of cycling apparel I have from the days when I was the "before" photo, if you know what I mean!

Velouria Captures A Working Girl

About two weeks ago, "Velouria" of Lovely Bicycle! fame came to town for the New Amsterdam Bike Show.  She stayed at my (very) humble abode.  Between all of our commitments and appointments, she still managed to photograph me and my bikes.  And, oh, yeah, we got a ride in together.

One shot actually is a pretty fair representation of me going to work on a brisk day.  

I was thinking of that day's "shoot" as I pedaled to work today.  As it was a good bit warmer, I wasn't wearing that jacket.  Also, since I didn't have any meetings, I was dressed a little more casually:  a light blue cotton skirt, flats, a tank top and a three-quarter-sleeve cardigan.  But, yes, I was riding Vera, exactly as you see her in that photo.

You can find that photo, and others, on her Flickr stream. I'm thinking of using at least one or two of them in the banner of this blog.

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:

What The Doctor Prescribed

If you're younger than I am, you may not have heard of him. But he may be, at least indirectly, one of the reasons you're on your bike now.

Dr. Paul Dudley White became President Dwight D. Eisenhower's personal physician after the Commander-In-Chief suffered a heart attack late in his first term.  At that time, few American adults rode bicycles, and the economy and landscape of the Unites States were increasingly shaped by the automobile.  

Today medical authorities cite Dr. White as the founder of preventative cardiology.  As a young doctor, he co-authored, along with Dr. Roger I. Lee, his first scientific paper.  It was about the coagulation of blood. Drs. White and Lee would develop a method, still in use today, for calculating the speed of blood coagulation.  Their studies in this area were very important in helping to understand the causes of heart disease.

He identified, or helped to identify, various heart and heartbeat irregularities for which doctors routinely test today.  Another result of his work was his establishing links between lifestyle and heart health.  At a time when part of the "American Dream" meant becoming more sedentary, he encouraged people to exercise; as convenience and "junk" foods were becoming more widely available, he promoted diets based mainly on lean meat, fruits and vegetables and whole grains.

Dr. White was also instrumental in having some of the first bike lanes built in American cities since the turn of the 20th Century.  Here he is, riding with Chicago's then-Mayor Richard Daley at the opening of that city's first lane:

 

Happy Mother's Day!

To all of you who are mothers--and those of you who love yours, or someone who was one to you--Happy Mother's Day.


My mom is great. But she hates being photographed, and I've been able to take the few photos I have of her only by swearing I would never share them.  Since I do believe in honoring my mother and father (which is not always the same as obeying them), you will not see her photo on my blogs.  However, I'll give you the next best thing--to me, anyway. Here's a photo of a mom riding with her kid in tow:

From Public

Pride

It must have had to do with the fact that today was an absolutely perfect mid-spring day.  Somehow I was feeling proud, if not invincible, the way I did when I rode in my youth.  Of course, I can't ride as far or long or fast as I did in those days, but I was feeling pretty good and rather proud of myself.  Perhaps it had something to do with seeing this

He just knew he looked good against that bridge and sky.  Of course, it wasn't enough for him to make me notice that.

That bird simply knew the bridges spanned a river, but his wings spanned so much more.  Well, that's what he seemed to believe, anyway.

Who am I to argue?

Taming The Bicycle

From High Wheel Bicycle

On my bicycle, I've raced, toured, commuted and delivered pizzas, books, payroll checks, blueprints, contracts, machine parts and a few packages with "don't ask don't tell" policies, if you know what I mean.


I've thumped along potholed city streets, rumbled down rocky hills, rolled along county roads and routes departmantles past fields, castles, cathedrals and through forests and villages. I've woven my way through pacelines and drafted riders I would pass and others who would ride in races, and in places, I have never seen.   I've cycled over ice and through fire.  (I'm not making that up!)  I've ridden alone, with friends, with lovers and after breakups.  And I've pedalled away from a person or two.

On the other hand, I've never done BMX, bicycle polo or paintball on bicycles.  And I've never ridden a high-wheeler, although I sometimes think I'd like to.  After all, my cycling ancestors did so.  They include Auguste Rodin, H.G. Wells and Mark Twain, who wrote an incomparable account of the experience.  


He tamed his bike the way he tamed just about everything else: with his wit and irony.  Really, I don't see how a cyclist can not develop at least a little bit of either quality.  

Rene Herse Demountable

Imagine getting started in cycling (or just about anything else) without the Internet.

Well, if you're of my generation, you don't have to remember.  You relied on books and magazines--and your local club (if you had one) and bike shop.

I was reminded of this when I came across a page that archives some old articles from Bicycling magazine. 

I thought about the bikes I learned about--and, in most cases, never actually saw--while reading the magazine.  Their names alone were journeys into places I had yet to visit and times I would never see.   I mean, when you thought the choices in bikes were among three-speeds, Columbias, Murrays and Schwinns, names like Hetchins, Routens, Jack Taylor, De Rosa, Alex Singer, Mercian, Pogliaghi and Rene Herse seem other-worldly.


And, of course, there was no way I could have afforded those bikes.  All I could do was to save those copies of Bicycling and read about them--and look at the photos.

From Laek House

To this day, I haven't seen some of those bikes.  One I'd really love to encounter is the Rene Herse Demountable.  

Yes, it's a folding bike.  The mechanisms used to collapse were found on the down tube 

 

and the top tube

 

 Note the placement of the shift levers!


The Bicycling article makes folding the bike seem easy.  I wonder just how easy it--or, for that matter, transporting it--actually was.  If nothing else, I'm sure it was a better ride than just about any other folding bike ever made.


The demontable I'd really like to see is this women's model.

Super-rare Rene Herse women's Demountable.  Photo from Bikeville.

I can only imagine what some Japanese collector would pay for it.

The Original Bike Luggage?

I was looking through some of the photos I took at the New Amsterdam Bike Show.  One of them got me to reminiscing.




Brooklyn Cruiser bicycle


There was a time in my life when milk crates served as furniture, storage units, shelving--and bicycle luggage.

Milk crates have been attached to rear racks with zip ties, hose clamps, rope, bungee cords and old inner tubes.  When I had a milk crate on my town/commuter bike, more years ago than I'll admit, I attached it with toe straps.

You can even use a milk crate to turn your bike into a tandem.  Why didn't I think of that?

Whenever I see of milk crates, I think of Lego blocks.  They are structured, and fit together, in much the same way,and come in the same colors.  They are fun--and practical.

Remember:  Milk crates are your friends!

Following The Scent In The Light Of Another Season

Assisi, Italy.  By Aaron Huey, in The National Geographic, July/August 2007

The past couple of days have been a bit chillier and wetter than what is normal for this time of year.  Or, perhaps, it just seems that way because of the mild, dry winter and April we had this year.

Somehow, at least for me, the unusual weather conditions left me feeling as if Spring hadn't arrived. Perhaps I am one of those creatures who doesn't respond so much to the season itself as to the change from the previous season.  I barely noticed that change from February to March to April.

However, the chilly, damp weather of the past few days left me feeling, ironically enough, that Spring had finally arrived.  I first noticed it one day last week, when I rode to work.  The rain had just passed; it washed the air with the scent of blooming flowers and reflected a subdued yet forgiving light of a dissipating cloud cover.

I could have followed that scent, in that light, all day.  But that day's ride had to end at work. But, at least, the sky had cleared and I pedaled home in the moonlight.