Plein Air Types

How many painters did you stop to chat with on the way to work this morning? For me: one.  This painter in particular was setting up his easel outside the Cornerstone Coffeeshop and waiting for his fellows. Would have been much harder to stop a car and pull into a space, but for me it was simply a gliding arc on the bike as I spun around to say hello. Would have loved to stay but the commute was calling.

Tools Sought!

Well, by some stroke of luck, or as the consequence of a two day span of diurnal biking, not only did I see several bicyclists today but one of them needed my help and asked for it! If yesterday I was feeling so much a unitary peddler, today I was, in a very small way, among the nascent hive of central PA bicyclists! All of this transpired at the local library, where I renewed a copy of Restaurant at the End of the Universe for my son. On my way in another biker called my attention asking for tools, as his seat was very loose and needed a 5mm hex wrench. I rifled through my tool pouch and, well, unfortunately I didn’t have what he needed. It was a pleasure to try to help!

non-Celebratory?

My morning into the office ride was made almost celebratory because I saw two bicyclists on the road, one of whom I passed and another who headed in the direction opposite mine. The former biker didn’t hear my greeting because he was dangerously plugged into his ear buds, and the latter likely saw me but didn’t seem to care to acknowledge me (we’re so rare here shouldn’t he?). Perhaps it’s sad to say celebration is in order when you get to pass another cyclist, but that is the reality here and I suppose in most places. Might some display of solidarity, like annoying whistles attached to bike frames, be in order? The “Few Bicyclists League”? or “Almost Missed Me Corps”?

No Impact Biking?

I’ve got thirty minutes before my daughter’s bus arrives, and I need to have all my belongings consolidated into the panniers before heading out. This is often a nutty task because my intermodal life spreads my possessions between two cars and the panniers, not to mention various backpacks and bags, and the kitchen countertop. Alas the travails of lost keys, the pocket tool and what have you. But this is really a consequence of the material life. Yet, in contrast to the material nature of a minivan, which I've left at home this morning, I suppose a few small items are no matter.

I took note of other material happenings (or lack thereof) when I watched “No Impact Man," a documentary following an idealist New Yorker who strives to leave no impact on the environment. While he gives up toilet paper and refrigeration, he and his wife are chaotic neutral bicyclists to boot, yelling at vehicles in the bike lane. 

Yelling bicyclists in the suburbs of Harrisburg, however, would certainly gain the attention of police who have relatively few crimes to deal with, thus enabling them to direct their attention said bicyclists, who really needn't concern the police, but given the political culture here would be held as...hmm...socialists?

New Panniers!

Hooray!  A much better way to move stuff around.  My daughter has a rather silly name for these handy bags, which I will not repeat here.

Reflection

I caught this neat view of my shadow heading east at 8:30am this morning. Based on the focal length of my cell phone camera’s lens, and my shoe size, I deduced (as I pedaled) my arrival time at the office to be 8:47am.  I was absolutely correct!

Riding Again...

A gray veil of clouds protected me this morning as I rode from the Y (where the kids are now dropped)(important note: my son provided excellent advice on leaving car at Y and biking from its parking lot!) to the incorporated farmland where my office sits and promotes runoff. Having been spared by cumulous cover, I had a relatively cool ride, including through a construction site where I was duly recognized by the "Slow" "Stop" sign people (who knows when they'll miss a bike???). A new donut shop is also en route to the office, enabling purchase of a bagel. But why does that matter? What matters is the bagel shop itself, which is designed for cars only. There is no seating inside or outside -- green space is miniminzed, macadam maximized. Sad. Uninspired. Inhuman. Perhaps a bagel place for bikes and pedestrians only? 

Biking for Vegetables

What to do when your locally grown, organic veggie order is sitting in a garage, separated from you by thick PM rush traffic? Drive? No. Bike to vegetables!  Out the garage, down the hill in the back yard, along the river, over the bridge, along the lane. Left. Right. Veggies poured into backpack. Return home. Like-minded folk? Certainly!