Suspension Of DIsbelief

About fifteen years ago, I saw a classic Cinelli track bike with a floral basket attached to the handlebars.  I'd never seen such an arrangement before, and I complemented its rider, a young woman with hair in hues that weren't offered even in DuPont Imron.  She grinned, as if I'd gotten some sort of joke.

Now I see all like manner of baskets--including porteur-styled ones--as well as racks and bags on fixed gear bikes.  Granted, those bikes aren't classic Cinellis or classic anything else.  But they are fixed-gear bikes nonetheless, even if they'll never get near a velodrome.  So it's still a little odd, at least for me, to see them so rigged up.

This one, though, takes the genre of the fixed-gear city transporter to new heights:

Or, more precisely, it takes rear baskets to new heights, literally.  Perhaps it redefines "suspension" on a bicycle.

 
 

Same Ride, Different Day--By Choice

Have you ever done the same ride two days in a row?

Back in my racing days, I sometimes did.  Ditto for the early part of my post-racing life, when I was still pretty young and training for…what, I didn’t know.  But, most of the time, I managed to find a different route every day for the hour or two or three I’d ride before or after work.

It’s rare, though, that I’ll follow the same itinerary two days in a row when I’m riding simply for pleasure.  Today was one of those unusual occasions:  I rode to Point Lookout again.

The sun shone as brightly as it did yesterday.  However, the wind blew harder and the temperature barely made it to 15C (60F) in my neighborhood, in contrast to yesterday’s 27C (80F).  That meant that though the temperature dropped considerably as I rode over the Cross Bay Bridge to the Rockaways, the contrast wasn’t as extreme as it was yesterday.

In addition to being stiffer, the wind blew almost directly from the south-south-east.  Yesterday, it came more directly from the southeast.  So, while I had headwinds, then sidewinds followed by more headwinds on yesterday’s ride, I pedaled into headwinds all the way from my apartment to Point Lookout.  On the other hand, I had a nearly perfect tailwind all the way home.  

One other difference: I rode Arielle, my Mercian Audax, for the first time this year.  I don’t know whether it was because I was so happy to ride her again, but the ride felt even smoother than I recall from earlier seasons.  Best of all, my ride out was faster than I thought it would be and I felt as if I were flying home.

Plus, if I do say so myself, she’s never been prettier.  Arielle always gets compliments; they seemed more common today.  Interestingly, of all of my bikes, it seems that Arielle and Vera (my green Miss Mercian mixte) get the most compliments for their looks.

Another reason why I was happy to be riding Arielle is that the gears sure came in handy when I was pedaling into that wind.  On my way home, I never shifted to anything larger than my third-smallest rear cog (on a nine-speed cassette) and I stayed in my large chainring throughout the ride.

So…I did 100K rides on consecutive days.  I guess that’s not bad considering how little riding I during the past winter, which seemed to end only when I went to Florida the week before last.

Bryter: Ryde Now, Not Layter (Apologies to Nick Drake)

Some things felt right again after I rode to St. Augustine and Daytona Beach from my parents’ house.  The cobwebs fell off, so to speak, after days without riding and sunlight.

Today was even better:  I did my first long (100K plus) ride on my home turf, if you will.  And I did it on Tosca, my fixed gear bike, no less.  Because she’s so responsive, about the only thing that hindered me was the wind.  But at least I had it with me on most of my way back after pedaling into it on my way out.

It was all but impossible for me not to ride today.  Not that I would have tried not to:  The sky was brighter than it’s been in a long, long time up this way.  Now, some days this winter were clearer—or, at least, some things could be seen more clearly, including the sorts of reflections and images that come to some of us from within.  

If you live in a place where winters are long and full of short days, you might know what I mean.  Some things are never more striking—or, at least, stark—than they are against an alabaster landscape, bare branches and an ashen sky.  It’s sort of like a photographic negative of a chiaroscuro painting.  

But today was all light and color.  I might be the “extroverted introvert” that someone called me, but even at my most introspective, I can stand a dark night (Is there any other kind?) of the soul for only so long.  

Even against the blue, sunny skies, and among the budding flowers and trees, there are still signs of the old season.

And there are signs of other seasons further past:  to be more precise, the one of Superstorm Sandy.  Dunes are being fortified along the Rockaway shore; there’s even been talk about building a sea wall.  I wonder if this is the scaffolding for it.

If it is, it’s certainly wasn’t necessary today.   The tide was out everywhere I rode all the way to Point Lookout.

Also, although the air temperature reached 27C (80F) in my neighborhood, it was—or at least felt—about 10C cooler along the shoreline.  That’s because the ocean temperature is still only about 7C (45F).  It will warm up fairly rapidly during the next two months.  But for now, I think there’s more danger of freezing than drowning from that water.

Tomorrow—or, perhaps, later tonight—I will see the effects of the sun and wind on my skin.  One good thing about having ridden in Florida the week before last is that, as a result, I remembered to use sunscreen today.  Often, I forget it on my first warm-day ride and feel the burning and fatigue the following day, if not that night.

But all in all, this ride lifted my spirits.  That’s all I ever wanted, really.