Back to Biking

There's a big smile on my face; that's because one of my students waiting at the bus stop took this picture as I was leaving for home.  Maybe, I was just happy I wasn't waiting for the bus too, or maybe I didn't want the boy to worry about me.  But, biking is different now.  Not scary, at least not once I'm on the bike.  But I'm more aware, both of the beauties of the ride, but also of the consequences of mistakes. 

I only decided to give it a try after I woke up this morning.  Up until then, I was convinced I agreed with Bill's more sensible suggestion of a short run together on the weekend.  But, the weather was perfect, and I hung around the house, doing some school e-mails, until I was just a bit late for catching the bus.  Then, I thought.  I'll shower, and get all ready, and go out to the shed.  If the tires have gone flat, that will be a sign.  Not to gross you out, but I was more sweaty getting into the shower, than I was after I arrived at school.  The thinking about it was the worst. Has anyone ever stopped to think about the differences between nervous sweat and exercise sweat?  Anyhow, to get back to the point, the tires were perfect and off I went.

The Lions Gate was not looking spectacular this morning.  In fact, it was quite dull, but when I made it to the middle, I found myself wanting to record the moment.

Having the bike back in its familiar spot in the music room was comforting.  I've missed it there, waiting to take me home.

I stepped out at lunch time, and "my" heron was waiting for me.  I am almost at the point of giving him a name.  For some reason, I've been thinking of this heron as a "him", although the long-legged, knobby-kneed pose in this picture made me think of a skinny girl in a mini skirt.  Any suggestions for a name? 
The Lions Gate, facing home in the afternoon, yielded some spectacular images.
A boat was passing under the bridge. Its cargo looked to me like stacks of Nike running-shoe boxes.
My next stop was along Beach Avenue.  The sun was so bright I could barely see what I was photographing.  This was the bigger picture.

I did two zoomed shots, trying to catch the glare of the sand.  

I made it to The Wicked Cafe on 7th, and called Bill to come get me.  I had no batteries for my front light, my hands were freezing, and I realized, it was enough biking for one day.  Spoiled, I know, to expect Bill to drop everything and come.  Thank you, Bill!

Will I ride tomorrow?  The sensible decision might be to do every second day for a while.  I checked the weather, and it's supposed to be pretty cool in the morning.  We'll see.  Often, the things I do or don't do surprise me as much or more as those around me.

There are so often bonus conversations that seem to arise because of biking.  That's one of the beauties.  When I arrived at The Wicked, there was a full-size bike hanging on the wall, with a skeleton riding it.  I considered photographing it, and thought better.  Call it superstition.  A girl was sitting at the table under the bike art, and she noticed my gaze.  I told her it was my first ride since an accident, and she then revealed that after ten years of something close to a biking obsession, she had a very serious accident.  I sat down at her table, and we talked.  I wanted to hear her story, but there was also a warmth about her that was inviting.  We did talk about bikes, but in just a few short minutes, we talked about an amazing array of other thoughts.  I gave her my blog address, and she hurried off to meet her husband.  One of many happy moments in a good day.