May 2011
5 posts
Ninth Saturday: Piermont at Last
To explain how life works actually (as opposed to theoretically), I often quote lines from Stephin Merritt’s song “I Think I Need a New Heart”:
Cause I always say I love you,
When I mean turn out the light
And I say “let’s run away”
When I just mean “stay the night” … .
To conclude this little bloglette, I can now report that on the Ninth...
Eighth Saturday
Going to Piermont was a little like going to any other place, except that it was far prettier than all the previous destinations. We rode along 9W, up hills that were (to me) more palatable than the dreadful Churchill and the semi-dreadful Walnut.
It felt like a bit of an achievement, but not so much. I was glad we arrived.
There was a group photo at the Gazebo; I missed it. I think I was in...
Seventh Saturday
Another missed Saturday. An injury.
To make up for the disappointment, I went to Sotheby’s to view the contemporary art exhibit that was going up for auction this evening. The exhibit seemed lifted from the Abstract Expressionism one MoMA just dismantled. Bourgeois, Calder, Frankenthaler, Fred Samback, Sam Francis, and a sculpture of a woman c. 1972, by an artist whose name I can’t...
Sixth Saturday
This was the missed Saturday. I was at a baby shower where I had the opportunity to do an elephant on the tummy of a nine-month old boy.
On my way to the subway, I passed a lot of snazzily outfitted bikers and felt a little wistful.
I missed a ride to a place near Tappan called Pascack Park. For a while, it looked as though everybody was going to Piermont—but no! Piermont is going to be...
Fifth Saturday Turned Sunday
I’m finding this blog to be boring. Unlike my spirally Y Blog, it’s quite linear—it’s too linear. Today we did this, then we did this, then this. There is a way to write about this in a squiggly way but I’m not captivated enough to do do.
The highpoints of the Sunday ride, for me, were:
1) Biking all the way up Walnut (no walking), a somewhat long hill climb for a...
April 2011
6 posts
Fifth Saturday
It’s raining.
We’re to ride tomorrow. Because tomorrow is Easter Sunday, and because the weather calls for rain again, it’s unlikely it will be much of a group ride. We shall see.
I have to miss Sixth Saturday for a friend’s party, so if there’s no ride tomorrow, I’ll have sustained a bicycling hiatus, which won’t feel good. Practicing rpm on a recumbent...
Fourth Saturday
It was so windy, I almost blew over, before we reached the bus terminal. Because of this, I opted not to go over (and possibly off) the bridge and continue to Northvale.
So I turned back with three others, and we used the 2011 NYC Cycling Map to navigate our way back to the Park. Unfortunately, the city does not publish a map that also indicates road conditions. An unprotected lane is one thing;...
Third Saturday: The Switch
I showed up in the Boathouse parking lot on Saturday morning to ride with Group 2. What prompted the switch was a feeling that Group 3 was more athletic- and racing-minded than I, with my Victrola-esque touring mentality.
Before taking off at 9:30 (somewhat late, due to mechanical issues), the leader announced that a member riding the previous weekend had, oh, gone to the hospital in an ambulance...
Second Saturday
When I biked to Montreal that high school summer long ago, we passed so many pretty sights, so many pretty fields and towns. If a landscape is going to be ugly (think of a German Expressionist poster you don’t like), it’s best if it’s interesting. Ugly beautiful is acceptable. What if it’s just plain ugly, or two parts ugly and one part mediocre?
My group rode 35 miles, and...
Cold Enough
Temperatures are supposed to reach the low 50s° s by 3 p.m.; for now, it’s 39° with a wind chill factor of 31°.
I actually bought warming cream, which racing athletes use. It does not compare well with the Green Oil products.
Oatmeal with banana and honey, and coffee.
Peru, or Cresskill?
Tomorrow we’re riding to Cresskill, and my guess is that we’ll stop at a café called café L’Amour, just off Piermont Road.
I may be wrong.
Meanwhile, I feel I have piled up enough bike things to justify a trip to Peru. I even bought coconut water with pulp. Everything either wicks, blocks the wind, or provides nourishment.
Will I tire of carrying the little water pack on my...
March 2011
11 posts
Waiting for Saturday
I bought the lobster gloves, three kinds of munchie bar, a pair of thinner wool socks than my current pair (in case the tightness is restricting circulation), and am considering cutting off a pair of jeans to make windbreaker over-pants.
I’ve also signed up for a first aid workshop with a doctor who volunteers his time for this every year, with the A-SIG group. More on that after it takes...
Cleanliness, Hold the Palm Oil
Yesterday at the Met I viewed a mosaic floor. It was originally laid in the ancient colony or city (I can’t quite tell which) of Lydda, around 300 A.D. As with so many material objects and art works, I wondered how people of the day cleaned the floor. Certainly they cleaned with water, but what did they use for soap?
The mosaic has nothing to do with biking except this: our Saturday...
First Sunday after First Saturday
The gear-head trip begins.
Do I have enough … everything?
Should I buy a second water cage (they’re dirt cheap, though Arundel has a new one that is called “a design perfectionist’s dream”), or use the water backpack my half-friend left to me? What about another “base layer” to go underneath my supposedly thermal cycling tights? Should I buy cleaning...
First Saturday
At 8 a.m., the temperature for pedestrians was 29° and felt like 19°. It was also sunny and beautiful, especially for someone sitting by a wood stove.
A hundred and fifty or so C-SIG members began to gather at 8:30 in the seemingly unheated cafeteria of a public school on the Upper West Side. Over the next three and a half hours—people would be walking around fully balaclava-ed and gloved, some...
Anticipation
It’s the Friday afternoon before the Saturday morning. I’ve had air put in the tires and sleeved my handlebars in black neoprene “mitts” the shape of cornucopia baskets. The mitts are the smoother, Veblenesque variation on the windbreaking I Love New York plastic bag “sleeves.” Still need a pair of gloves.
The hologram memory of my half-friend is in the...
On Falling
Tonight I talked with a fellow biker who’s been biking in clipless pedals for years. He’s fallen twice. He said that when he started on the second descent, he decided to fall differently. To avoid hitting his shoulder, he stuck out his elbows (not straight out) and knees (ditto) and rounded his back, and rolled when he hit the ground.
Clips and the Six o' Clock Foot
I was padding around the shop in winter socks, waiting for Imbert to finish attaching the new pedals. He brought the bike over with my new shoes attached. They looked like plump black fish fins.
A customer called Al offered to hold the bike steady as I tried slipping in and out of the new pedals. Al was wearing a lot of bike clothing.
Another customer hesitated near the front door, watching as I...
Grouped
I received my official C-Sig (note the lowercasing) e-welcome this morning. One of the ride leaders informed me that during the self-classification ride, my actual speed ranged from 12.8 to 13.9 mph, which not only translates to a cruising speed of 14 to 15 mph but also suggests that I might consider strapping a 1904 gramophone onto the back rack.
Piermont is about 40 miles roundtrip from West...
The Shoes
How important are stiff-soled biking shoes? Soon I will know.
So far, I know that the technical cycling clothes I’ve purchased, with their thermal this and wicking that and windbreaking magic fibers, have been well worth it. My new bike seat: also well worth it. So maybe the shoes (and clipless pedals) will make a difference.
There is nothing particularly occasional about buying bicycle...
1 tag
The New York Cycle Club →
