Cycling Into A Season

 This weekend is the first of Fall.  Leaves have not yet begun to change their colors, and the air does not brace one's skin. Still, there are some unmistakable signs the season is changing:  Sunlight flickers rather than glares against the surface of a sea still nearly as warm as the air on the beaches and boardwalk, which were nearly as deserted as they'd be on a winter's day.

A couple of guys took to the water on Point Lookout, the destination of my day's ride.  So did a few boats.

Amid the sorrow and chaos of the past few months, today's ride gave me moments to reflect.  Riding itself has rarely felt so good.  I could hardly ask for more.

Cyclist Struck By Hate

It’s one thing when a motorist strikes a cyclist accidentally.

It’s something else when done with intention.

But I’ve heard of few things more despicable than this:



The driver not only drove into a Black Lives Matter protester on a bicycle intentionally; she made a point of expressing her hate.

The latest report says the cyclist’s injuries are not life-threatening. But he may have emotional scars that will take a long time to heal, if they ever do.

I am no lawyer, but I reckon that the woman should be charged, at the very least, with assault with a deadly weapon.

Out Of Line In The Lane

After taking a late-day bike ride, eating a dinner and reading, I dozed off, with Marlee curled up on me.  A couple of hours later, she woke me for some food and water. Then I  stepped out of my apartment for a few-minute ride on the deserted streets and bike lanes.

Well, they weren’t totally  deserted:

The cops were looking at their smart phones.  I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that the NYPD is using those devices to communicate with their officers.

I will write about that bike lane soon.