Thursday, April 30, 2009
An Apology
Friday, April 24, 2009
Spring Classic
First hot day
Classic April headwind
Pushing the paceline back
Grinding forward anyway
Post rush-hour light traffic
Bike lane stripe
Winter sand swept away
Safety illusion
Half dozen lycra spinners
Bright colors half a block long
Happily pedaling in the
Safety zone
Silent without warning
Steel on my left
Enters the safety zone
Terminates my safety
Rolling at a good clip
Nearly through the intersection
I'm meeting a right hook
Unwelcome spring classic
Turning, leaning on Detroit steel
Hoping I don't join Erik
Steel and lycra shouldn't touch
By surprise at 20 mph
I should have
Chased him down
Educated him on how
He nearly took a life
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Ahhhh
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Ride Around the Lake
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Bike Tunes
Prelude
I am a very passionate music fan & former musician with tastes more diverse than the faces on a New York subway. I can get totally lost in a piece of music, nearly to the point of losing track of my surroundings. It's great to have such a powerful connection to music but it can also take more of my concentration away from keeping the rubber side down. So there are times when I skip the externally produced tunes and stick with the internal sound track. I always have music playing in my head so I have a great selection available, it just may or may not be coming from an electronic source. Given the power music holds over me, I generally only listen with one ear piece though since I want to be aware of the truck that is about to roll over me before I feel it. Perhaps that way I can avoid becoming an extra large street pizza.An Important Note: We're all adults here so we make our choices and live with the results so I don't pass judgement on those who do listen all the while they ride unless they are weaving like a maniac and can't hear my pleas to let me pass in which case they're just rude and inconsiderate, both of which I think are unnecessary on the trail.
First Movement - The Commute
Adagio - Morning
In the morning it's an eclectic blend with Radio Heartland, a public radio station with a web feed and an iPhone app, hits the spot perfectly as long as I can maintain the signal. When I can't, my choice could be anything from Allison Krause or Stacey Kent to Bela Fleck or Vivaldi, perhaps even Eric Dolphy or Lyle Lovett. Maybe even these guys. It all depends on my mood.Presto - Evening's past
Before I got my iPhone, I had a phone with a radio and I took perverse pleasure in listening to traffic radio on my afternoon commute. We have a great public jazz station that also does traffic reports. Depending on my contract, my commute has generally had me riding near enough a major highway that I can track my progress against the cagers. There's few things as enjoyable as riding along a trail that parallels the highway, moving faster than the traffic listening to some driving jazz and hearing traffic reports about how long a delay they will incur. They play quite a variety but it's mostly straight ahead jazz and really pushes my commute on.Allegro - Evening's present
Now that I can't get that station, it's mostly jazz on the way home such as Chet Baker, Count Basie, Weather Report, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, maybe Ella Fitzgerald. Whatever it is has to be cookin' since I have only so long to work out the stress of the day and I want the music to kick up the tempo.Second Movement - MTB
Third Movement - Road Riding
On my road rides I listen exclusively to John Cage's 4' 33". This is a piece that is often referred to as 4 minutes and 33 seconds of silence but is actually the listeners hyper focused on the sounds in the environment. For me, when I'm on the road, I feel I have too much to think about and too many other folks dependent on my actions to give any attention to music. I am inches off someone's wheel or they are inches off mine, often both, and the margin of error is too close for me to have the sounds around me blocked out. This is, of course, strictly my opinion, your results may vary, offer only good on my blog, this cyclist has been injured in the development of this opinon, I don't care if you try this at home. |
Finale - Indoor Trainer
I feel this is the most pathetic "cycling" I do and only on those rare occasions where I can't ride for some reason or get my work out from cross-country skiing or running. In other words, it's a short list of times I'm not doing something else but when I do find myself on the trainer, it's podcast time! My current favorite is RadioLab from WNYC and broadcast throughout the public radio waves.Sunday, April 5, 2009
Easy is hard, hard is easy
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Post Winter Basement
It's a sad life for a bike sequestered to do trainer duty. Think about it. Here is a machine made to roll over open ground clamped by the arse, raised up off the ground with the back wheel jammed into a spinning pipe and the front wheel balanced on a two by four. It shares floor space with a Nordic Track, machine that has never know the feel of fresh air flowing freely by with a grinning person gazing out at the possibilities ahead. No, the Nordic Track was conceived to sit in a single spot resisting the various pulling actions of a sweaty person grunting out a work out, likely watching some video in hopes of forgetting they are grinding away in some dark corner of the house. |
Even if the clamped and tortured bike has the company of a lovely companion, its a sad state of affairs. Just because she's leaning seductively against the shelving flashing that tight, trim seat bag doesn't mean he can ignore the fact that there's no breeze, no natural light and no matter how fast the back wheel spins, the front wheel sits idle nervous that the gentle rocking will knock it off the two by four. A spinning wheel can take a pretty good bump and keep on rolling but a motionless wheel can only look forward to the rude awakening of a dull thud followed, no doubt, by colorful language of a startled rider, or more accurately, spinner. |
Near by hang some wheels and tires, quietly waiting for their chance to be part of the action. They know the feel of the wind, the warmth of the sun and the gentle vibration of the tarmac flowing under their steady spin. Someday they will again be pressed into service but for now they just serve as the basement's version of hanging art; pretty and stationary, lucky to receive an occasional dusting. |
Winter fading, spring running late, the commuter hangs patiently waiting for the end of season scouring. It's been a long run over ice, sliding through slush and pushing powder out of the way, always making the trip a success and a joy. Occasionally a frigid survival exercise, often a hardy romp with sizzling studs on the dry spots between the carbide teeth purchasing safe passage through everything else. It's a salty, sloppy mess but the charge of a commuter is to attack whatever horizontal obstacles it encounters getting from point A to point B. It's not without joy that it meets its mission but pretty and happy fall under other duties assigned and make no appearance in the main body of the job statement. |