First ride in two months...

A thumb injury kept me off my bike in the past two months. I was very glad to see I ride 16 miles w/o a problem in lovely weather yesterday.

What's Missing

Readers, take a look at the photo below:

What is missing? Do you know? For most Earthlings, it's no surprise that what is missing isn't known, because they drive their cars, insulated from the elements. Today's elements include a touch of rain -- that's a clue. Know what's missing now? Or have you not commuted enough in the elements? In them, as in commuting not sheltered from them. When you are exposed,  the cool moisture on a rainy Fall morning is available to the senses. As is the slick sound of tires pushing and skimming through a film of water on the road, and the gray horizon threatening rain on the return ride. These are more clues about what's missing. For the cyclists, I might have provided enough information. Here's another clue: it's in the trunk of my wife's Civic! What's missing in this photo? Might it be useful for the impending wintry mix as well?

Unforecasted

I get all the news I need from the weather report...although not yesterday.  


Yesterday morning's weather report presented a rather gentle descriptor: "breezy." I'm not sure if this was intended as a meteorologist's euphemism or whether it was another miscalculation. "Windy" would have been a more accurate adjective, although even this latter term would belie the very strong gusts that made my ride in a tough one. The gusts even prevented me from accelerating on downhill stretches.  None of this wind caused any real problem for me, except when my preference to move quickly across major intersections was undermined by gusts. In this case, as soon as I pedaled into the crossing of 21st Street and the Bypass I had to fight the biggest crosswinds of the trip. 

Puddles

Puddles!

Rain Anew

Frankly, I haven't biked in the rain -- a steady, measurable rain -- for many years. So this afternoon, as I watched from my office window bits of our planet's fresh water pour down upon a large swath of our macadamized soil, I saw an opportunity rising. Some coworkers advised against my returning in rain; another offered me a ride home. I checked the radar and the window a few times and waited for an opportunity. Fortunately, just at quittin' time the rain tapered off from a downpour into a steady, light patter. I grabbed helmet and panniers and headed out the door.


I hadn't checked the weather this morning, so I wasn't entirely ready for this rainy return trip. Mainly, I didn't have a waterproof shell. This didn't seem to matter, for as soon as I hit the pedals I was enjoying myself, despite a steady soaking of my clothes. And for some reason my bike seat was not soaked with water (perhaps a benefit of locking to a tree). Balancing my ill-equipped-ness were front and rear blinkers, and snap-on fenders. The kid in me loved watching them block so much water that the tires lifted toward me. 


The last bit of my ride home is a quarter mile hill that terminates at our driveway. Perhaps this was the riskiest portion of the trip, with my wet rims treating my brake pads as is they were skis. No consequences, though -- not even a slip.

A Bloody Ride!

While the temp was not too cold on record (24F) it felt otherwise this morning as the chill somehow penetrated my shell, fleece and turtleneck. Perhaps precipitation in the air, perhaps the wrong breakfast. Yet my concerns about the weather faded as my nose began to bleed! I noticed the red drops when I stopped my ride to deal with coughing and mucous (lovely!), and then saw the tell tale liquid on my glove, and then scarlet splatterings on my bike's crossbar.  Why the blood? Air quality? Subconscious psychosomatic resentment about the dearth of biking culture in Central PA? Gov. Scott Walker syndrome? Please, offer your blood-borne interpretation!

Two Cold Commutes

January 19
I rode off in 35 degrees this morning, pushing up the steep winding road from my driveway before merging into the main thoroughfare that sends me east.


At the intersection of 15/11 and Market Street (and certainly everywhere else) I often catch sight of the dirty, ugly pile of cigarette butts pushed into heaps along with ruster bolts, gravel, and other trash.

Bicyclists seen: a student bicyclist headed to school; on my last stretch home saw two more bicyclists: one a competitive type, the other a heavy-duty commuter with paniers.

January 21
My second ride this week in morning weather that didn't get out of the mid-twenties. A decent ride nonetheless, but no other bicyclists seen, at least in the morning.

26F....tie-down freebie!

Yesterday's prediction was that today's temperature would hit 40 degrees, thus I eagerly pedaled away from home to work this morning. While it wasn't 40 degrees when I left our house (instead it was around 26F), the bonus was a found tie-down in the berm of Market Street, in excellent condition, and even made in Indonesia!  Of course I can't say who placed the metal S-hooks into it, but surely he or she did not anticipate a bicyclist to pick it up. It's now fastened to my bike frame, far away from the tropical island it came from!

The only trouble with this morning's cold was my right sock, which is getting old, and so the failing elastic left my lower leg exposed to the cold, and made the prospect of stopping for a quick decaf and warm-up all the more attractive.

26 degrees and smoking

Driving seemed an easy choice this morning, being 26 degrees outside with snow slush blocking the space in which I normally ride.  But soon after driving my white whale away from the garage I saw a figure pedaling ahead of me in the distance. It wasn't the green bike lady. Instead it was a man riding eastbound on the side of the road opposing westbound traffic (always suspicious). When I passed him I could see a cigarette in his right hand, his short haircut hatless, and his seemingly thin sweatshirt open to the cold wind. He pedaled patiently and slowly; nonchalantly. Perhaps the cigarette kept him warm, or was metabolic inhibition catalyzed by the coffin nail dangling betwixt his numb fingers? Hard to say, but in either case I admired his choice of transport.

29 and clear

I vacillated between riding and not riding to the local bookstore this morning, with the chilly 29 Fahrenheit a concerning factor. In the end, I donned my wool balaclava and several layers before heading out. Lest I think myself crazy I came upon another biker about 10 minutes into my ride, and stopping to chat at an intersection found that she was in fact crazy, ranting in a high pitched voice about gambling policies and the governor, then urging me in near hysteria to advocate an end to card tables as a source of revenue. Her bike was green with fenders.

Garb considerations: too many cotton layers and a top fleece layer did not shield me from wind leaving me with a cold chest. Nose and cheeks need better coverage as well. Seek plastic/synthetic windbreaker.

One Mild Skid-Slip / 44 degrees

Today's commute, amid dark grey skies and a damp penetrating low 40s air, was quickly interrupted by a westbound motorist intending to turn left through a gap in opposing traffic. We just saw each other as I headed east in the shoulder of the Carlisle Pike, my tires skidding and sliding perhaps six to eight feet in reaction. We eyed each other with plain faces.

Later I stopped to make a photo at one of two major intersections on my ride:

Two other bicyclists on the road today: one older & bearded, the other well equipped in outdoor cycling gear with a whistle at the ready.