A bunch of friends got together to ride on a glorious fall day. I met Gerry early to get in some additional miles, and as always, appreciate his experience and insight. Gerry, for all the teasing he takes is a remarkable athlete who has ridden well over 100,000 miles this decade. And that doesn’t begin to include his running or anything else. Fortunately for me Gerry is an early riser, and since I almost always have to ride early in the day, I can often catch up with him somewhere, and often he’s already been riding for a while. I’m not sure how far he had gone this morning before he met with me, but I had layered up and was ready. We spun out and had a nice pre ride spin, and caught up a bit. He’s been competing in a number of events and doing rather well.
Back at Piermont, I said hello to the guys, checked up on a couple of little things and then headed out with the group. A lovely bunch of folks, including one person who has been rehabbing for a while and is finally back on their bike, and in a related way I learned that someone who I’ve known for a while (just as smartest and lovely person as you could wish to meet, Hi Rita!) lives around the corner from me. I can’t begin to count how many times I must have ridden by her house.
Anyway, today was the perfect day for a rambling ride, enjoying the beautiful fall light, the leaves, and the crisp clean air. Add a great bunch of folks… and it’s magic.
I also completely ripped up two town line sprints after getting toasted by Jenni with the excuse that (wait for it…) I didn’t know we were competing until after she blew by me.
And below… one more piece of soon to be acquired winter gear… although I intend to get the 183 version for the front.
Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
I continue to prepare for the winter biking season. It can be very hard to get out 5:30am on a Sunday morning this time of year. It’s dark, it’s cold, and generally not pleasant. Worse, you know it’s going to be much warmer and brighter later… when I can’t usually ride because of other obligations. That leaves me with a mostly mental battle — like my ride yesterday started out at 36 degrees F. Still some actual preparation takes place… I changed wheels on my road bike to a stronger wheel with rubber that has a bit more tread to it on the corners. The strength comes in handy hopping over fallen branches etc. The next step is over to the truly fat road tires (which requires a change of bike — heh). Clothing got sorted and cleaned. Gloves have gone from fingerless, to light, to medium. We’ve quickly blown through arm and leg warmers in the early morning, that season has passed already for me. But all in all, it’s mostly getting ready for the freezing cold starts, and often colder feeling finishes. It’s also remembering to bring something to blow one’s nose with, and taking a moment now and again to do so. That makes cold weather riding far more comfortable for me.
Below, a new set of King cages, featherweight titanium bottle cages made from “left over” titanium tubing from the airline industry. Light, strong, and they don’t markup one’s bottles, and further, match the “weapon of choice::winter division” very nicely. Coming soonish now… one hopes.
Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter.
~Carol Bishop Hipps
We have few “we-started-them” family traditions. Family traditions abound on both sides, but there are few we feel are our own. Apple/Pumpkin picking is one. Even that is fairly hazy in that everyone else has done it as well, but we try and do it every year which apparently counts for something somewhere, in some ledger of family tradition, or so I’m told, and leave me alone already etc.
Fruit off a tree is magical. It’s not from a bin in a store. It’s not handled by others. It’s not processed, folded, spindled, or mutilated as the post office is want to say. One second it’s part of tree and the next second it’s a snack, or a pie, or the promise of one. Magic I tell you.