Eaten by locusts
The week thus far has been eaten by locusts. After not sleeping at all Sunday night, I’ve been walking around zombie-like since. Nights have been short and naps have been long while my body tries to sort itself back out.
Monday’s commute
I’m told, this sounds like something out of a cartoon. And frankly, I was afraid I’d hallucinated this or something, until I found a blurb about it on the local TV news site this morning.
Cheering Christian Clowns
I was riding to work at the library Monday night, and twice, twice I say, found myself cheered on by roving packs of clowns—arms pumping in the air, and cries of “Woot, woot, woot” and “Go, go, go”, like I was winning the Tour or something.
I wasn’t sure if it was a carpe bikum thing, or some environmentalists (the Green Party comes to mind), but I decided they were fairly harmless, so I waved and rang my bell for them.
Turns out, they may just have been a bit giddy after a hard day of proselytizing.
Faithful Youths, Dressed as Clowns, Spread the Word
It’s strange knowing that I was cheered by Christians, when ordinarily, I’m jeered by them.
Interview and lunch
I interviewed with my boss yesterday for the clerk’s position at the library. Had it been with anyone else, it wouldn’t have been the best. Not disasterous, but I certainly wasn’t my usual shining self. I inferred that there are at least two others interview for the position, so it’s not a wrap by any means. They may already be clerks at other branches, in which case there may be union rules as regards seniority. Either way, I’ll know by Friday.
I had lunch today with friends over at Starry Nites Café. I didn’t feel up to any client work this afternoon, so I did the laundry and took a nap while it dried. It was a perfect day for drying laundry outside on the fire escape. Full sun, upper-70s and just enough breeze to help the process along without worrying that my clothes would be blown off into the alley.
This evening’s ride
I was grateful that last month, at a monthly client meeting on second Wednesday evenings, we decided not to meet this month. That left tonight available for a ride. And I was just itchin’ for one.
The weather remained perfect—mid-70s, clear and just enough puff of breeze to occassionally rustle the leaves. I relubed the drivetrain after the rain the other night, lowered the bar ends a bit, and set out into the sunset.
I haven’t ridden my little rolling hills west of the city in a week, so I set out through downtown and took the Riverway south, on the west bank. At Genesee Valley Park, I picked up the Canalway heading west.
With the bar ends lowered, they’re less comfortable ambling around, but I can get into a tighter tuck for cruising at speed. I’ll have to ride a few days to see which way I prefer it.
I’m still amazed at how much better the lowered position feels for my legs. All I have to do to pick up a little speed is slide my butt back on the saddle and lean down and forward on the bar-ends. I instantly pick up 5 to 10 RPM in cadence. It’s amazing.
In any event, I was halfway out to my turnaround point where the pavement ends at Long Pond Road. Crossing Buffalo Road, I stopped to see if I could help two riders who were studying a map—a mom around my age on a Schwinn touring bike and her 13-year-old son on a mountain bike.
Turns out, they’re from Boston and are doing a little credit card touring along the canal. They’d started in Lockport, just east of Buffalo and are heading to Palmyra, just east of Rochester. Just the two of them, their bikes and whatever fits in their trunk bags. They had a map of the bike trails and a printout from Mapquest and were trying to reconcile the two so they could find their bed-and-breakfast.
Unfortunately, Mapquest routed them right through the ‘hood. I explained how to get there on the trails, but the further along I got, the more confused we all became.
“How about if I guide you?,” I offered.
She dithered a moment. After all, she’s a single woman with a young son, and I’m a guy offering to take her through a fairly deserted canal path in a strange city. Apparently I look harmless enough, so she accepted.
We had a nice ride—for the most part. If I hadn’t distracted them with commentary about the area and the things we were passing, I’m quite sure they wouldn’t have kissed tires. The mom went down. Fortunately just off the pavement.
She had very mild road rash on the knees and what will turn into a nasty bruise in the fleshy part of her thigh. And it turns out, she lost her reading glasses. “They’re just cheap drugstore ones,” she told me later. “We don’t need to go back to get them.” Still, I felt bad.
I paid more attention to ride-leader stuff and less to tour guide stuff for the rest of the ride. Just after sunset, I deposited them safely at the B&B in a lovely neighborhood ajoining the north side of Highland Park. I’d not cycled through there before. I’ll certainly do it again, when there’s more light.
I rode up to the reservoir for a little hill practice, down the other side for my reward, and hammered home on Goodman.
It feels great to be able to keep right up with traffic. Cars behind had no need to pass—they’d only be on the bumper of the car ahead. I’ve never been able to do that before. Heh, on Tuesday, I broke the speed limit on the way to work. Okay, by only 0.8 MPH, but I was speeding. So I’m liking the new riding postion for that.
Anyway, I logged 16 of an intended 20 miles, but had a much nicer ride than I had planned.
