If Triathloners Don't See Their Shadows....

Today is Groundhog Day.  The media will focus this country's attention on the most famous groundhog of all, Punxsutawney Phil. He's said to be the only one who really knows whether spring is just around the corner or winter will keep its grip on us for another six weeks.

Closer to (my) home, there is Staten Island Chuck. He and Phil aren't always in agreement.  Then again, they live about 500 kilometers apart.  It must be said, though, that from 1992 to 2016, Chuck's predictions were accurate 68.4 percent of the time, while Phil got it right only 42.1 percent of the time.

Hey, Chuck's a New Yorker. Waddaya expect?

Anyway, I think I've found an even more accurate way of predicting weather for the next few weeks:

The question is, of course: Do they see their shadows?  

Their shadows are behind them.  Does that mean they can't see them?  Or they can act as if they haven't seen?

Hmm...I wonder whether a groundhog can pretend not to see his shadow. If he did, would that mean spring is at hand?

Update  Phil saw his shadow.  But Chuck didn't.

Before The Dawn

When I first started this blog, there were mornings when my commute involved riding into the sunrise.  I used to enjoy that--certainly more so than the job I had at the time!  Every once in a while, when I get up early enough (which means, ahem, getting to bed early enough), I will actually voyage into the dawn just for fun.

Today, though, began with me pedaling away from the sunrise

and into the darkness.  

Hell Gate

James Wright used the word "darkness" so much, especially in his early poems, that if he'd copyrighted it he'd've died an extremely wealthy man.  At least there were different kinds of darkness in his work.  I wonder what he would have made of the kind I saw today at Hell Gate as I rode over the RFK Memorial Bridge. 

Atlas Rode

It wasn't just a ride.  It was a mission.

Arielle, my trusty Mercian Audax, took me to the site of some mysterious structures.  How they got there, we weren't told.

How long had they stood?  How long would they have stood

had we not gone there to hold them up?  

Once we knew they'd stay up, we exited, Bill and I, across the bridge of George

into the clouds

 

over hill and dale

and back to the city, shining city.

All in a day's riding!

And, no we weren't doping:

Jordan Almonds.

All of the photos--except the ones with Bill--were taken by Bill.

Bicycles And Sundown: History In An Ohio Town

Some cities are, or were, synonymous with certain industries.  The best-known examples in the US are automobile manufacturing in Detroit and steel-making in Pittsburgh. 

Some smaller cities and towns are linked to a particular company or another.  The Hartford insurance company comes to mind:  It's been a part of the Connecticut state capital that shares its name for over 200 years. 

Believe it or not, even during the "Dark Ages" of US cycling, a town in Ohio was best known for the bicycle company that bore its name.

I am talking about Shelby, a community about 150 kilometers southwest of Cleveland.  From 1925 to 1953, the Shelby Bicycle company fabricated its wares in the heart of town.  

Like most American bikes of that period, most Shelbys  were baloon-tired "cruisers".  Although the majority of  Shelby bikes  bore the names of retailers such as Montgomery-Ward, Spiegel, Firestone and Goodyear, and some were sold by AMF, a number of Shelbys were sold under their own name.  And, while Shelby made "theme" bikes--such as a "Lindy" bike honoring Charles Lindbergh and Donald Duck bikes--some were very stylish, even elegant.  Those bikes are prized by collectors.  

Now some folks in the town have formed a society dedicated to Shelby bicycles.  The Shelby Bicycle Historical Society, recently approved as an IRS 501(3)c tax-exempt organization, is looking for members. You don't have to own a Shelby in order to join; you need only to be interested in the bikes or the town's history. It's not there only to celebrate the company's "Whippet" bike Clarence Wagner rode to a cross-country record in 1927; it also exists to commemorate what was once a significant part of the town's economy and history.

There is another part of the town's history that nobody is trying to commemorate.  It was said to be a "sundown" town; according to some former residents, it even had a sign at its border telling black people they had better be out of town when the sun set.  Even after the sign was taken down, some people ran black folks out of town; others wondered aloud whether an African exchange student should be allowed to swim in the local pool.

(Levittown, on Long Island, is only 55 kilometers from my apartment. It, too, was a "sundown" town.  So was nearby Roosevelt--which, ironically, is now almost entirely nonwhite as a result of "blockbusting".)

While I hope that the good folks of Shelby (and America) will face up to their (and our) racist history, I am happy that they are commemorating something that, while it doesn't make up for that history (what can?), is at least an interesting and sometimes even delightful part of the cycling landscape.

When Carelessness And Distraction Collide

In my high school, one of the science teachers was also the soccer coach.   I heard that he used to give his students a "problem":  If a ball is rolling at 10 mph, a 140-pound player is running at it from one direction and a 180-pound player is running from another direction, what will be the trajectories of the players and the ball?

Then he would tell his students, "We can go down to the field and find out."  For the rest of class, they would watch the team (which included me) at practice.

Now here's another real-life physics problem, albeit without much humor:  A woman is driving a Buick at 62 MPH in a 45 MPH zone.  She picks up her cell phone.  

What will happen to the cyclist who just happens to be riding along the same road, in the same direction?

Jeffrey Gordon Pierce

Well, the answer to that one is grim, to say the least.  Jeffrey Gordon Pierce, a 53-year-old teacher at the Inman (South Carolina) Intermediate School was thrown off his bike after he was hit by said Buick, driven by Heather Renee Hall, an Inman resident.

Heather Renee Hall

Well, she was an Inman resident until yesterday.  Her new residence, for now, is the Spartanburg County Detention Center.  Jeffrey Gordon Pierce, meanwhile, is in the South Carolina earth:  He died at the scene of the crash.

And, yes, he wore a helmet.  Even that wasn't enough to prevent a horrible crash, let alone influence its outcome, when carelessness and distraction collided.