Across Rivers, Oceans--And Aeons

It's funny how a bit of travel can make you see a familiar bike ride in a new way.

So, for that matter, can doing the ride with new partners--or with partners if you'd previously done it solo.

That's how I found myself seeing the roads and trails of the Palisades when I pedaled them with Bill and Cindy the other day.

It's also the first time I've ridden with either of them in a while:  They've been spending their weekends in a secret hideaway they told me about. 

Seeing this plant--a giant fern, a small tree or something else--made me visualize, if for a moment, some of the flora and fauna I saw while riding in Cambodia.

And this sheer rock face made me forget--even though I've seen it before--that it's just across the river from the Cloisters--which, in turn, can make you forget that you're in Upper Manhattan.

The further you ride into the trails, and the closer you get to the river, the easier it is to feel you're not within a few kilometers of the George Washington Bridge.

But something one of them said really made me see this old familiar ride in a new way:  "You can almost imagine what it was like when the native people lived here."

Yes, sheer rock faces and colorful plants seem like eons as well as worlds away from the West Side Highway.  It almost seems possible to remember that whatever structures were in the area weren't made of steel or glass--or even brick.

As we were imagining people who are long gone and vistas changed, I found myself thinking back to Cambodia, where most of the population are Khmers, the people who have lived on that land for milennia.  Much of their landscape hasn't changed in centuries, whether in jungles that haven't been touched or the Angkor Wat and other temples, which were standing for centuries before the land we rode yesterday was called "New Jersey" and the other side of the river was named "New York", or even "New Amsterdam."  

Those temples still stand today, seemingly as much a part of the land as the rock face we saw.

Note:  The penultimate photo was not, of course, taken on the New Jersey Palisades.  The others, however, were.

The Angkor Wat photo, as well as the first two in this post and the "blueberry" photo near the end, were taken by me.  Bill took the others.

A Journey For Life

Here's something I never would have guessed:  This year, as many firefighters have died by suicide as in the line of duty.

That, apparently, shocked Denny Ying, too.  That, and a friend who took her own life.

They spurred the 36-year-old Marine Corps veteran into taking a ride across the United States.  Yesterday, he stopped at Denver Fire Department  Station #21, having pedaled 1000 miles out of the 3800 he plans to ride.  

While his goal is to raise awareness of suicide prevention, he says his ride was borne out of his own struggles with depression. That is one reason why his journey, if you will, won't end with this ride:  He plans to start a cycling team of survivors.

All of this is even more impressive when you realize that, earlier this year, Denny Ying didn't even own a bicycle.

How Did This Little Piggy Get To Market?

If you grew up in the English-speaking world, you almost certainly heard this Mother Goose nursery rhyme:

This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none.

This little piggy went
Wee, wee, wee
All the way home!

A piggy eating roast beef?  Hmm... What, if any, are the ethics of that?  Sometimes I still feel guilty about laughing when Matt and Trey Parker, the creators of South Park, fed bacon to Macon.




Did Macon stay home after that?

And what about the piggy that went to market?  How did he/she get there?

Let's hope that the piggy on the back of that bike didn't become Macon's lunch!

Or was that Macon on the back of that bike?

The Heights Of Fall

Today is the first day of Fall.  And it feels like it, in a pleasant way:  Billowy but thin clouds waft over cool breezes.

A few hundred kilometers north of here, the leaves have begun to change color. Here, though, they're still green.  So if we want Fall colors, we must look elsewhere:

People who don't know the area don't associate these houses with Harlem.  But they line Convent Avenue, a street that bisects the City College campus in a part of Harlem known as Hamilton Heights.  

I was all smiles on my bike, and everyone and everything--including the stones of these houses--seemed to smile back.

The Skies, And Days Off

If you are in North Carolina, my sympathies are with you.  Up here, in the Big Apple, we've gotten only hints of Florence.  The worst came on Tuesday, when torrents alternated with steady, driving rain.  I'm sure, though, that we didn't experience anything nearly as tumultuous as what folks in the Tar Heel State witnessed.

Since then, we've had three days of almost uninterrupted overcast skies.  A few stray showers have passed over us, and late yesterday afternoon the sun played peek-a-boo.  That, combined with the drop in daytime high temperatures from about 27C to 21C (80 to 70F) since the weekend has made for some very pleasant riding weather.

Oh, and I have to thank the Jewish people for giving me a couple of days off so I could enjoy it.  The funny thing is that, where I teach, Jewish faculty members probably outnumber Jewish students by about 20 to 1.  If anything, we probably should have Muslim--or Hindu--or, hey, maybe Buddhist--holidays off.  What about pagan feasts?  

Hmm...I'd have a lot of time to ride.  But I'd have a hard time making a living--unless, of course, those holidays were paid!