School's Out!

Yesterday I wrote about devices to which I am not yet accustomed.  I'm learning them, but I think I'll master Sanskrit, if I start learning it on my next round-number birthday, sooner and better than I'll master the iPhone or iPad.

I also wrote about something to which I was accustomed practically from the moment I touched it:  Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special.  She's a birthday gift to myself and, after my initial ride, I was going to "save" her until the day came.  So much for my self-discipline.

Everything was right yesterday:  Small puffs drifted across a blue sky, the air was warm but not oppressively so, and a brisk wind blew into my face during most of the outbound part of my ride.  That meant, of course, that the wind pushed at my back on my way home.

And, of course, Dee-Lilah.

Well, almost everything was right.  When I got to Point Lookout, the Point itself was closed.  There were trucks and earthmovers and other kinds of machinery from some agency.  The folks in them didn't want to talk and one of them glowered at me when I aimed my phone to take a photo.  I just hope they're rebuilding the shoreline, which has been damaged by storms wrought by climate change our, ahem, political leaders deny.  At least, I hope they're not readying the spot for some developer who wants to build condos or something.

The other part of my ride that could've been better was the traffic:  I saw lots more of it almost everywhere.  Worst of all, drivers were weaving--well over the speed limit, no less--with no apparent regard for anyone else.  The ones who weren't driving that way seemed to be working as Uber drivers, picking up people--kids, mainly--in seemingly random places.

Then I remembered why:  Yesterday was the last day of the academic term for New York school kids.  I could understand the kids being a little crazy.  But the adults?

Oh well.  At least school was out for me, too, and I had a great ride nonetheless. 

N.B.:  The bag on the front is from--you guessed it--RuthWorks SF.

I’ll Get Used To Them—Or So I’m Told

Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special, has been, well, a delight. She hasn’t been in my life for very long, but I feel as if I’ve been riding with her forever.

In other words, I haven’t had to adjust to her.  I must say, though, that in designing my bike, I had Arielle, my Mercian Audax and other bikes I’ve ridden to inform my consultations with Hal of Bicycle Habitat and Grant of Mercian Cycles.

On the other hand, Vera, my Mercian Mixte, took some getting used to—but not much. I bought her second-hand, but she fits me well and my experience with other bikes told me it would serve my purpose well.  

Actually, it doesn’t take long for me to adjust to most bikes I try, unless it’s radically different from anything I’ve ridden before. Given how many bikes I’ve ridden and owned, that is not a frequent occurrence.

Electronic devices, however, are another story.  Perhaps it is, as some have suggested, a result of my combination of life experience (a.k.a. age) and lack of experience with cell phones, tablets and the like. Maybe they’re right. I must say, though, that adjusting to my new iPhone and iPad has been a frustrating ordeal—and grows even more so the more  I hear how “intuitive” Apple stuff is supposed to be.

Oh, why did my slide-phone have to start dying on me?  

Doing Unto Others

Some good deeds can be performed only while you're riding your bicycle. 

You might be thinking of the time you gave directions to a pedestrian or motorist.  Or the time you retrieved something someone dropped.  And, of course, there are those times you've helped another cyclist on the side of the road.

I am thinking of those, too.  But then there are other problems or emergencies we can deal with but motorists or even pedestrians can't.  I'm thinking now, in pre-cell phone days, of times I summoned police or made a call from a pay phone when a motorist or someone else was stranded far from either. ( I've done this in France--when I was cycling the Pyrenees en route to Spain--as well as locally.)  Then there was the day I saw an elderly woman take a fall while crossing a street (in Florida) and, more recently, the time I saw a homeless man passed out on a sidewalk in the Bronx, on my way to work.  

My favorite, though, was the time a woman called, "You, on the bike!"  I turned.  "Can you help me?"  Of course, I pulled over.  She explained, between sobs, that she'd left her purse on a bus making its run along the Union Turnpike in Queens.  "Do you remember the number on the side of the bus?"  She did.  "Give me a few minutes."

It actually didn't take that long:  I found that bus a couple of lights away.  I knocked on the door and explained the situation to the driver.  He actually walked the down the aisle and--voila!--found a red leather clutch on a seat.  

When I brought it back to the woman, she, of course, thanked me profusely and wanted to give me the money in that purse--which I, of course, refused--while laughing out of sheer giddiness.  "Then I'll pray for good things to happen for you." I'm not religious, but I hope she didn't think I was laughing at her offer of blessings!

I laughed in that same giddy way yesterday.  As I approached the stairs on the Randall's Island side of the RFK Memorial Bridge, I saw a young man who looked ready to faint.  "Are you OK?" He stammered something.  I offered him my water bottle; he sipped from it.  But I knew he wasn't suffering from heat exhaustion, even though the day was warm and humid.  "Are you diabetic?"  He nodded. "L-low blood sugar!"   

I searched my bag:  no bananas, energy bars, chocolate or any of the other sweet things I might bring on a ride!  The only available food was on the island--or back on the Queens side.  "I'll get you something!  I'll be back in a minute."

So I pedaled at a pace that might've won me a race or two back in the day to the concession stand near one of the ballfields.  Much to my surprise--and, at that moment, horror--it was closed.  There was a "roach coach" (a food truck) nearby, a long line of customers snaked from its windows.  And it wasn't going to move quickly:  people were ordering hot sandwiches, plates and french fries.

Sighing, I caught sight of a nearby tennis club.  I'm not a member, but I figured there would be a cafe--or at least a snack bar--where I could buy something.  That hunch proved correct, and I bought two fresh-baked cookies--one chocolate chip, the other fudge with s'mores.  

When I got back to the stairway on the bridge, the young man was still there, and another young man was talking to him.  That other young man didn't have any food or water, but at least he encouraged the young man with diabetes. Both thank me profusely; the fellow with diabetes hugged me. 

Anyway, I mention these stories, not to boast of my magnanimity, but to point out that they never would have happened if I hadn't been on my bicycle.  That young man who was  about to faint, or worse, from his low blood sugar never would have been seen by the motorists streaming across the bridge.  And the pedestrians wouldn't have been able to get him a snack as quickly as I did.

What are some of the good deeds you performed while riding your bike--and that you could have performed only while riding your bike?