See RocBike for a full ride report of my 45-miler.
And my flickr set of the ride is here.
Here are my favorite pictures from the day, a swan on the nest
protected by its mate
and a family of Canada geese
Remember that quote about a young man's fancy turning to thoughts of love in spring? Same for birds...
For those who watch birds avidly, FOY stands for First-of-Year. My first Great Blue Heron of the year, seen on a bike ride on the Erie Canal, near Lock 33.
Every Spring, we go out to a special spot in the Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge. If you go at the right time, you'll hear a chorus of frogs singing their mating song. It's kind of eerie (made a bit more so this year by a rather intoxicated man circling the trail and talking loudly and angrily, but he was harmless). Hearing the frogs was worth it. Here's a picture taken just before the song began (which intensifies right as darkness falls).
Yesterday, T. and I went to Highland Park to look for FOY warblers. We saw the following: black and white, black-throated green, yellow-rumped, and lots more. Plus a blue-headed vireo, the first I have seen (that's called a "lifebird" if you're an aspiring bird nerd like me).
I couldn't resist the magnolia blossoms which had fallen to the ground.
Up next, my FOY flower bouquet from my garden--forsythia, the last daffodil and some other things whose names I don't know.
And it was the FOY South Wedge Farmers Market. You really should go to the website and watch the short video of the festivities, including DD, dear friends Hillary and Vicki, and favorite kids Max, Quinn, and Katie, among others, dancing around the maypole.
I picked up some Asian greens at the Market from Freshwise, and I already had some feta and chevre from Lively Run, so I modified a recipe from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone to make a double-crusted fresh spring greens tart. It will be tomorrow's dinner.
And by the way, my 45th birthday nears. I have completed the hand-made objects, although they may not get uploaded right away as my time is limited due to end-of-the-semester grad. school and work stuff. (I realize it probably doesn't seem like that, since I sound like nature girl in this post. This stuff has happened over the last 2-3 weeks, interspersed with bursts of research, writing, and conversations where I use words like "pedagogy" "theoretical" and "retention" as though I were talking about my children.)
The bike ride is coming soon...stay tuned!
I was walking to class a couple of weeks ago and was blown away by this view in front of the library.
This despite the fact that spring is a bad allergy season for me, although Chinese herbs and dietary changes have made it more of a minor annoyance than the season of headache it once was.
Speaking of which--those innocuous looking yellow flowers are buttercups, which according to weather.com, are a common allergy trigger in my area right now.
Huh...DD and I just pulled a bazillion of them, the "creeping buttercup" variety from the yard. (They're just as insidious as they sound.) And I thought that good feeling was just from the satisfaction of getting rid of them.
Tulips from the Public Market. Not only beautiful, but fragrant as well. Makes the whole house smell amazing.
High-schoolers on the Genesee River.
Crew teams doing their thing.
College students with frisbees.
While the fire alarm, undoubtedly pulled as a prank, blares from one of the fraternity houses across the river.
All from my short bike ride after work today.
I've been thinking about women's lives a lot lately. I used to think about them all the time, when I headed up a university women's center. I'm proud of the work I got to do there, but got pretty burned out (and just plain burned) and had to take a mental break.
However, being mom to a seventeen-year old daughter means growing up female in the U.S. is never too far from my consciousness, particularly in a week when there was an attempted abduction of a young high school woman in the area.
Then today, T. and I got to talking about how it seems that in the 1970's and 80's, progressive women who got married kept their last name (I'm not going to use the word "maiden." Please!) Or, maybe they and their husband hyphenated or created a new name altogether. Since the 90's, it seems that more and more women are taking their husband's name.
Now when I was a teenager growing up in the 70's in my small Indiana hometown, the library was my sanctuary.
I happened upon the one shelf of feminist books. I have no idea of the book or author, but I read a very powerful essay about the politics of the name issue. As I remember it, the author asserted that the tradition could be traced back to the days when a woman was considered the property of her husband. She made a powerful argument that our name is our identity...when we change the name we are given at birth, we are allowing a part of our identity to be subjugated. I vowed at that moment never to change my name, and I never have.
I'm not going to make this a polemic about the issue, and certainly many of my close friends have made a different decision, and I respect their choice.
At the same time, we must always remember that the personal IS political...it cannot be otherwise...and we too easily forget the historical and political context of our choices. (Well, Hillary is very aware of the political context. She's essentially gone from Hillary Rodham to Hillary Rodham Clinton to Hillary Clinton.)
And finally, when I went to a church we're thinking of getting involved in, and the minister said, "We come to church so we don't forget," I remembered. I remembered that feminism is the first social justice issue I cared about, not just because of that small library shelf, but also because of the very powerful ways in which I had personally experienced and witnessed violence against women.
So, I'm gonna continue to do my part. Sometimes it's a little thing, like wearing my Take Back the Needles shirt. You pretty much have to be both a feminist and a knitter to get it, so I mostly just get looks of befuddlement when I wear it. Depending on who's asking, I might offer a bit of an explanation. I might tell them about the Take Back the Night movement. I might tell them that knitting needles were once used to induce abortions, when desperate women had few options. And I might tell them about the newest generation of diy/riot grrls/young feminists who subvert traditional notions of women's crafts and create awesome works of art in the process.
(Coincidentally, today, my Stitch 'n Bitch calendar featured Barbara Walker, who most knitters revere as the author of treasured knitting patterns. But most of us DON'T know that she also wrote The Women's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, along with several other books about women's spirituality and history.)
And I'm gonna do my part in a somewhat bigger way. Today I went to a casting call for our community V-Day production, a performance of The Vagina Monologues, to benefit our local Rape Crisis Center and the women of New Orleans.
I have a long history with VDay, going back to when I helped RIT become the first college in the area to participate, back in 2000. It was a life-changing experience, and it is also one of the reasons I got "burned," as mentioned above.
Now I am ready to move to a next step with VDay, where I get to participate only as a cast member (rather than as producer/counselor/advocate/lightning rod).
Like everyone, I have a lot of things going on in my life. And my personal life hasn't had a lot of political activity in it lately. If I'm going to honor my ethic of living a life that attempts to live up to my ideals, I have to make the time. Just like I made the time to grow my own veggies, support my local Farmers' Market, preserve a lot of homegrown, handpicked produce to carry us through the winter, and commute by bike/bus whenever possible.
And this is a way I can be a part of reminding members of my community about the lives of women...from all the ways we experience our vaginas, through birth, sex, violence, and power.
How can that NOT be political?
The performance is March 8, 8 pm. More details to come...Save the Date!
Been quiet around here lately. That's because most of my spare time the last couple of weeks had me staring at this...
But one particular night, I got to at least hear some great music from Meyer and Mcguire at Equal Grounds.
Haven't had much to pay attention to the upcoming holidays, though several projects will hopefully be completed in the next 5 days, since the last paper was turned in, the last day of work is done, and DS is home. But for now, I'm in bed to catch up on some rest!
I took this picture with my phone, on my walk to class. I'm sure you notice that no one else is walking to class. That's because either:
a--Some people were already in class by the time I got there, as I was late due to traffic jams caused by drivers who, although they've lived in Rochester for 20 years, forget how to drive in the snow.
b--Other people were even later to class than me.
c--The rest of them decided it was a good night to skip class.
We're having our first major snowfall of the year, and, although I'm not as crazy as Joey Mac or Rochester's Wednesday night Cruisers, I am looking forward to getting out and playing in it, at least on skis, and maayyyybee on my bike.
Now if I could just get a snow day from work and school!
(Cross-posted at RocBike)
--Biking with others makes you feel more empowered on the road and gets you more respect from drivers.
Here's Team RocBike (and friend Liz Henderson) after our Saturday morning ride to Rochester's Public Market.
--Wind Chill isn't just a stat that the TV meteorologists (who take an approach to weather that can only be described as "weather as horror flick") came up with to scare us into watching their forecasts (and accompanying ads).
I left the house this afternoon in 50 degree weather, with only Lycra tights (yes, I do own Lycra, but in my defense it was purchased in the 1980's...and although in perfectly good shape, is in the fashion of the 80's), a tank top, and a cycling jacket. When I stepped outside it was downright temperate. When I started biking, I realized it was a bit windy. My uncovered ears and fingertips were FREEZING! Next time, I'll make sure the extremities are well-protected.
--Give the bike a good once-over every time you ride.
That would be a picture of my rear reflector caught between my back tire and my frame. It came off during today's ride. I was in a rocky area, and I thought maybe I had a rock caught in the spokes. All of a sudden I couldn't move AT ALL. Had that happened in traffic or going downhill...yikes. Major wipeout.
--It's all about the gear.
I finally got some Power Grips (and new pedals) put on my bike by the good people at Full Moon Vista, along with a new helmet, which is much more comfortable and lightweight. So much more comfortable for head and toe.
--Brighton has a new park! I accessed it off the Erie Canalway Trail, just east of Clinton Avenue.
I took DD and DS to many soccer games at Meridian Centre Park, back in the day. They've recently added a trail and boardwalk system (still under construction, I believe) through wetlands adjacent to the fields. Note to soccer and baseball parents: This would be a great place to explore in between games.
--I can't get enough of nature this fall...I find the colors intensely inspiring. I think someone famous already said this, but it seems to me that art is just our inadequate way of trying to capture the inherent beauty (including the starkness of decay and death, soon to come) of the natural world around us.
--Crows start their pre-roosting activity as early as 3:45 pm this time of the year. (That's when they start to gather to fly to their roosting site, where they will sleep for the night.) There's a reason that Halloween decorations always conjure images of crows. This is the time of year, after families have been raised, that they begin gathering in flocks at night. Pay attention the next time you notice a bunch of crows gathering. The noise coming from a large group of crows is quite impressive.
--And one thing I learned, thanks to our car. Sometimes driving is worth it. We drove out to Wayne County to see a Rufous Hummingbird, a bird whose typical region is the Western U.S., who's strayed way off its path. It looked cold!
Keeping up with the blog has made me much more aware of these moments of pleasure, and, since gratitude doesn't always come easily...it's important to take note when it does...
--going to the Rochester Public Market with DD (at HER insistence), where we talked to a local farmer with this charming sign
--the smell of basil from last week's harvest, finally turned into pesto and herbal vinegar
--the last fresh flowers of the season (I think!) to be put into Mary Barringer's vase
--an autumn that won't end (pictures taken in Mt. Hope Cemetery)
--with a dog that loves nothing more than rolling around in the leaves
(Cross-posted at Rocbike)
I’ve been cycling off and on since forever, but when I started working within two miles of my home, two years ago, I began to bike more frequently. It seemed ridiculous to get in my car and contribute to the melting ice caps, all to go a distance that I could get to just as quickly on bike as by car. That led to running errands, visiting friends, going food shopping, all on bike. Since my 45th year challenge, I’ve stepped up the cycling even more. It all started when Pat from the Rochester Bicycling Club wished me a happy birthday, and suggested that I should bike my age in miles.
I thought, I can do that…in fact, I probably could have done it that day (which was my 44th birthday), but it undoubtedly would have hurt. I’m going for the low-pain ride…so, in addition to the daily cycling, I’m going for longer and longer rides on the weekends. My goal is to do the 45-miler over Thanksgiving weekend.
But there are other reasons that keep me biking, beyond the first motivation of cutting my carbon footprint and the second of celebrating this turning point year, in which I can finally feel myself relaxing into the sheer unpredictability of life.
I keep biking because it connects me to my neighborhood, my community. For example, I take night classes at the University of Rochester, also only two miles from my home. Most of my classmates (like me) are full-time employees and part-time students. They say that they don’t really feel that connected to the graduate program, because they drive in and drive out, often in darkness…straight from the parking lot to the classroom, and back again.
On the other hand, I bike up Mt. Hope Avenue, alongside the Genesee River, past the UR tennis courts and apartments, past the library, and behind the academic quad to my classroom. On this ride I think often of my former father-in-law, now gone for fifteen years, who worked at UR for many years. When I first met him, he gave me a tour of the campus and told me its history. I’ve forgotten most of it, but I do remember that where the campus stands was once a golf course. I often picture that golf course and think fondly of him, one of the most loving and ethical people I have ever met.
On Halloween, I saw undergrads in costume heading out for the night on the UR bus, graduate students in the library (probably oblivious to the fact that it was Halloween), and on the way back, I biked parallel with another student heading from campus to our neighborhood. (Actually, I passed her going up the hill on McLean, and since she was half my age, this made me quite pleased with myself.)
It really does make me feel connected to be on my bike, instead of ensconced and climate-controlled in a car. And to be perfectly honest, there’s nothing like bike commuting to give you that slight, “I’m so cool AND I’m doing the right thing” tinge of self-righteousness. I might be overtaken by the self-righteousness if I weren’t having so much fun noticing the changing of the seasons and feeling the strength in my body that comes from propelling yourself rather than letting a motor do it.
And speaking of strength, I’m also noticing a huge leap in my strength and endurance. My 20-mile bike ride last weekend felt like nothing, even without padded bike shorts! (For more on the significance of that last detail, see Hubris.)
As the weather turns cold, I’m wondering if I can maintain this level of cycling throughout the winter. For one thing, I have to dress “professionally” for my job, and carrying the layers of clothing needed to change into, along with the layers I’ll need to wear, feels like a bit much. For another, money put into the current bike to outfit it for winter is money that can’t go towards an XtraCycle next year! I’m counting on the RocBike community to give me the right tips and help me keep the motivation to keep it up!
I am generally an optimistic person. For example, my approach to balancing the checkbook is, "Why bother? I'm sure it will all work out." I suppose you can guess how that goes over in our household (and who balances the checkbook!).
My optimism has its advantages. For example, I think it is perfectly reasonable to work full-time, be a relatively competent and loving parent, pursue a Ph.D., work on causes important to me in the community, and have a great intimate relationship and a life rich with meaningful friendships. Oh, and finish 45 hand-made objects, bike 45 miles, and do a 45-hour retreat all in one year.
By and large, I'm mostly successful at the above list, which, of course, only feeds my optimism and makes me think I can do more and more. Thus, occasionally, my optimism turns to hubris. I have recently been reminded of this in the most indelicate way.
Case in point--my seat.
I've been thinking...45-mile bike ride...no big deal. To any of the Serious Cyclists out there, you're saying, "Yeah, NOT a big deal!" But I am not a Serious Cyclist. No, I am a mere dilettante...I actually bike for mostly practical purposes, commuting to work and around the city, to reduce my own contribution to climate change, to see some new scenery on the weekend, to get a decent workout, and to have fun.
Notice, I said to have FUN. Things I do not find fun include: biking huge hills, biking on roads likely to hold enraged Hummer-drivers, or, truly, any kind of exercise-induced pain.
Which takes me back to my seat. T. and I biked 20 miles this past weekend, through Genesee Valley Park and on to the Erie Canal Trail to Schoen Place in Pittsford, then back home. Great ride! Really beautiful and with a break for ice cream in the middle.
On the way back, and I know some of you cyclists have done this, I occasionally had to stand on my pedals just to relieve the pressure...you know where. Yes, I have a comfy seat, and yes, I have cycling pants with extra padding so I feel like I'm wearing a diaper.
But nothing makes up for the fact that, since I haven't been cycling that far at a time, my seat endurance, so to speak, is not what it could be.
Ah, the hubris...sure, 45 miles, no big deal. What, do you expect me to actually TRAIN for that?
For several years, T. and I imagined the places we might move to after the kids left home, or at the least by retirement...they all happened to be in Massachusetts...first it was Northampton, then the Berkshires, then Cape Cod.
But as the time has gotten closer when we might actually be able to move, the prospect has gotten less and less appealing. So much so that we were just saying that we can't imagine moving from Rochester.
There are some great reasons for living in Rochester...go see what Rachael has to say about the art and culture scene, then come back here for more.
1. Lots of great fiber art and resources for fiber artists. I've visited at least half the stops on the Finger Lakes Fiber Tour and I highly recommend it.
2. Speaking of the Finger Lakes...the Finger Lakes National Forest is only two hours away. This incredible resource offers great hiking, biking, and secluded camping. We spent a week there this June, which included a beautiful sunset over the horizon and a full moon through the branches. And an incredible dinner, as always, at The Red Newt . They have the best Gewurtzraminner going!
3. We have wonderful natural resources right here in Rochester. The Genesee River, offering kayaking right downtown. The Erie Canal with miles of trails for walking, biking, skating, kayaking, boating.
Mt. Hope Cemetery full of history, and a peaceful sanctuary.
Highland Park designed by noted landscape designer Frederick Olmsted, where yesterday DD and I viewed a local production of Romeo and Juliet.
Just yesterday we discovered some new hiking trails in Victor.
4. We have found spiritual and political communities that feel right to us. Places like Springwater Center, Rochester Zen Center, Metro Justice, and our neighborhood, the South Wedge.
So there are a few reasons...I'll add more throughout the year.
What do YOU appreciate about Rochester, or wherever you happen to live?
