Rainy Day Non-Riding Blues

You know it's May, and you know you're a cyclist, when it feels strange not to have ridden to work.


That is how I felt today.  When I went to out this morning, what fell wasn't just the mere pitter-patter of a morning shower or a tingly, misty drizzle.  Rather, the rain fell so heavily I could barely see out my window.


The weather alone might not have dissuaded me from riding to work.  However, I had two far-flung appointments more than ten miles from each other, and each was more than fifteen miles from work.  Perhaps cycling to them would have  been a character-building experience, had I been younger.  But I wasn't thinking much about building character today.


As I rode the train and bus, I felt a little guilty--and, paradoxically, cheated--over not riding today.  I guess I'm greedy:  We had gorgeous weather this weekend and, of course, I did two longish rides.  So I wanted to continue the "high" I got from those rides.  


I  got to work and found only two bikes parked in the racks. One looked as if it had been there long before today.  Its owner could at least have given it the treatment it deserves:

How Did They Arrive?

Whenever I ride to a seashore, I can't help but to imagine who might have landed there first.  I always think about, not only who they might have been, but how they got there.

I also can't help but to wonder what they found

and what they left behind.

Also, I want to know how they left.  If they were forced out, did they leave on their own vessels?

And: Will they return?

Flip-Flopping

During the halfway point of a ride on Arielle today, I got a glimpse of what Mercian meant wnen they called the finish on my bikes "flip-flop.:

Here's another shot of the bike becoming a chameleon:

I can't help but to think the sea and reeds had something to do with the light bringing out the green in the finish.

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.