I'd Rather Be In The Slipstream

I have carried all sorts of things on my bicycles. Of course, I hauled panniers and handlebar bags full of clothes and other items on various trips, and I've carried books and manuscripts.  I've hoisted chairs, folded tables and, yes, even bicycles on my shoulder after mounting my bike.

On the other hand, I have never pulled a trailer or anything else behind me.  And nothing I've ported on my velocipedes can compare with what French bicycle racing legend Alfred Letourner towed behind him:

I guess that's one way to use a recreational vehicle if the price of gasoline becomes too prohibitive.  Plus, how can you beat a Frenchman pulling an Airstream for style?

It doesn't seem to have slowed him any:  He set several speed records and was one of the dominant cyclists of the six-day races.  

Much as I admire his feats, I'd rather be riding in the slipstream than pulling an Airstream. 

(My new friends Suzanne and Deborah sent me the photo from Vancouver, where they found it on a restaurant table.)

The Original Powder Coat

Some love snow. Others hate it.  Me, I like a good snow coating every now and again.  Of course, I liked the white stuff even better when I was a regular off-road rider and owned a mountain bike.

But I like the snow best of all when it's a light dusting. Of course, it doesn't make for the best of riding conditions, especially on city streets:  It and rain or light drizzle make for more slippery streets than any other kind of weather.  Still, I think much in this city--and in nature--is at its prettiest when they're dusted with light snowflakes.  They almost seem like confections.

Perhaps it's not quite as visible in these photos as it was to me when I rode past Isham Park, at the very northern end of Manhattan.  I had only my cell phone to capture those images.  Oh, well.

And, like any other kind of confection, that light dusting of snow didn't last long.


 

 

Indian Bicycle Troops

Although I'm not a military or war buff, I find it interesting to see how various armed forces throughout the world have used the bicycle. If pedaled two-wheeled vehicles can be used under the conditions in which the military deploys them, it is, if nothing else a testament to their versatility. While I don't endorse colonialism, I couldn't resist publishing this photo of Indian bicycle troops on the Fricourt-Mametz road in Somme, France. 

From the Imperial War Museum

They were, of course, fighting for the British and their French allies in one of the bloodiest battles in all of human history. I hope those Indian troops continued to ride after the fighting stopped. After all, as much as I abhor war and imperialism, I've got to admit that it probably left them with bike-handling skills I'll never have!

Another View From Vera

As cyclists, we can't help but to notice skyscapes and other vistas.  Whether they're views of the sea, hills, trees, cornfields, Victorian houses or glaciers (Yes, I pedaled alongside one in the Alps!), we are aware of the way in which natural and architectural structures interplay--or don't play nice--with the sky

Here's an interesting one I saw yesterday, while running errands on Vera:

Now, you might think it's just another view of a New York skyscraper against the sky. At least, that's what you might think if the grid lines didn't cris-cross the almost preternaturally sky-blue glass.

That glass forms the exterior of the new 4 World Trade Center, just down the block from One World Trade Center, a.k.a. the Freedom Tower.  The original WTC buildings were destroyed on 11 September 2011; the new 4 WTC opened on the 13th of November this year.

Take A Close Look

Ok, boys and girls. I want you to take a look at Tosca.

Do you notice anything different about her?

I'll tell you more about it soon.

WWDD (What Would Dante Do?)

Warning:  I'm going to start this post with a completely useless, and possibly even frivolous, literary and philosophical question.

Here goes: How would la Commedia Divina have been different if Dante could not see the entrance to the underworld as he entered it?

Of course, we'll never know the answer.  Or, for that matter, we'll never know what Dante might have written if he'd been with me instead of Virgil and he was at Hell Gate instead of the gate of Hell.

One of the thickest fogs I've seen in New York cocooned the area.  While crossing the Queens span of the Triboro bridge, I could not even see the cables just a few feet to my right, let alone the railroad trestle that spans the Hell Gate channel just a few hundred meters upstream.

I sure was glad not to be driving.  

 

Bike Calendars

By now, calendars for the coming year have appeared in your local bookstores, stationery shops, department stores, pharmacies and other retailers.  

I must confess that I am one of those people who doesn't pay for calendars.  Or, at least, I don't pay regular price:  If I buy any, I wait until the year has begun and they can be bought for next to nothing.

I've had a bicycle-themed calendar or two in my time.  I might get one somewhere this year.  With that in mind, I typed "bicycle calendars" in Google and found some that look very interesting:

 
This one from BIke EXIF-Cycle EXIF features a bike I'd like to see.  Does that banded paint job continue throughout the rest of the frame?  If so, does it continue in a blue-green theme, or does it transition to other hues?

(Seeing it made me think of a bike I rode for years and will write about in a future post.  Stay tuned!)

Don't try this at home!:

I'll confess that I did:  A couple of my old off-road riding buddies and I rode onto the trackbed less than a kilometer from last week's derailment in Spuyten Duivyl.  And we missed an incoming Amtrak train by less than that!

Now here's one I'd really like:

From Cycle Passion

I like anything that shows women in various modes of cycling, whether they're racing or commuting in skirts and heels--or doing something more whimsical.  I'm not interested in the "bikes and babes" calendars I often saw int he shops in which I worked.



Then, of course, there's the Classic Bicycles calendar published by bicycle Quarterly:

I might get myself one--or a Mercian calendar. 







 

How Many Bikes In One Parking Space?

Here in New York--and, I suspect, in other places--people are whining that bike racks and bike share ports are "taking away our parking spaces."

To hear them, you'd think there's a kind of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" scenario, in which every bike takes away a parking space.

They should see this:

From Bike Delaware

 

It's All In The Name

How often, when we're on our bikes, do we see some place and tell ourselves, "I must come back!"?

It can be an interesting historic site or natural feature, or some beautiful (or simply odd) street- or land-scape, or piece of architecture.  

Or it might be a restaurant or coffee shop.

I don't often see businesses with my name on them. I certainly wasn't expecting to see one in the middle of the Bronx, just a few blocks (and one stop on the #4 train) north of Yankee Stadium.

Notice that it's called "Justine", not "Justine's".  I wonder if its proprietor read Lawrence Durell's novel by that name, or the George Cukor film based on it.  (Anouk Aimee plays the lead role.)  Or, perhaps, the owner read another novel by the same name--written by none other than the Marquis de Sade.

One of these days, I'll go back there.  I wonder if restaurant reviewers ever consider a restaurant's name in writing their critiques.  

Looking Out For Stonehenge

I went to Stonehenge once, a long time ago.  I don't know whether I'll ever make it there again.  If I don't, this might be the nearest thing--at least visually--I'll see for a while:

I didn't have to leave the country--or, for that matter, New York State--for it.  In fact, I didn't have to go very far from Queens.  To be exact, I found it at Point Lookout.  What it's doing there, I'll never know.

More to the point, I don't know who put it there or why.  I'd love to know.