As I mentioned last month, I’m back to riding Oma almost daily. And I’m reminded that Oma is not just a bike style, but a lifestyle.
I slow way down with her and relax into the ride. I coast up to yellow lights instead of accelerating to beat the red. I enjoy the city sights from my high perch.
It’s all about opting out of the commute-as-race by sheer force of will. Even as SUVs speed past me too closely and I breath in truck exhaust, I think happy thoughts and continue slowly pedaling. Riding Oma helps me maintain a bit of serenity, as the city buzzes around.
When I first wrote about Divvy, I listed reasons that I anticipated using the bike share system, even though I have three bikes of my own. On Friday, one of those reasons popped up.
I take the L in the morning due to rain but the sun is shining by the end of the day.
Leaving for work in the morning in the pouring rain, I did not even consider biking. By the early evening, the sun was out and I was itching to ride a bike. Lo and behold, there was a brand new Divvy station right by me.
Using the bike was super easy. I had no problems riding in my trousers, thanks to the covered chain. The fenders protected me from being splashed by leftover rain puddles.
The front rack held my legal file and bag remarkably well. I was worried about the file slipping out, but everything felt perfectly secure.
I rode Divvy as far north as possible, before switching to the L to get all the way to my destination in Lincoln Square, where I was meeting friends for dinner. I can’t wait for the day when Divvy stations cover the city – which should be by the end of the summer!
I look forward to many more rides with Divvy in the future!
I was rained on during my bike commute today, and I did not mind at all.
Heading home, I took a different route than usual and soon happened upon a garden. I pulled over to walk the paths and enjoy the thousands of roses. As I said goodbye to the flowers and set out toward the lakefront trail for my 7-mile ride home, rain started falling. I briefly considered ducking into a cafe, but the heady smell of fresh summer rain urged me on. While tourists and beach-goers hustled for cover, I cycled on with a smile.
The shower was short-lived and by the time I got home, my light summer dress had completely dried. No rain gear necessary.
Storms of perfume lift from honeysuckle,
lilac, clover—and drift across the threshold,
outside reclaiming inside as its home.
Warm days whirl in a bright unnumberable blur,
a cup—a grail brimmed with delirium
and humbling boredom both. I was a boy,
I thought I’d always be a boy, pell—mell,
mean, and gaily murderous one moment
as I decapitated daises with a stick,
then overcome with summer’s opium,
numb—slumberous. I thought I’d always be a boy,
each day its own millennium, each
one thousand years of daylight ending in
the night watch, summer’s pervigilium,
which I could never keep because by sunset
I was an old man. I was Methuselah,
the oldest man in the holy book. I drowsed.
I nodded, slept—and without my watching, the world,
whose permanence I doubted, returned again,
bluebell and blue jay, speedwell and cardinal
still there when the light swept back,
and so was I, which I had also doubted.
I understood with horror then with joy,
dubious and luminous joy: it simply spins.
It doesn’t need my feet to make it turn.
It doesn’t even need my eyes to watch it,
and I, though a latecomer to its surface, I’d
be leaving early. It was my duty to stay awake
and sing if I could keep my mind on singing,
not extinction, as blurred green summer, lifted
to its apex, succumbed to gravity and fell
to autumn, Ilium, and ashes. In joy
we are our own uncomprehending mourners,
and more than joy I longed for understanding
and more than understanding I longed for joy.
Yesterday evening I was at Millennium Park in downtown Chicago for an outdoor concert – an event that signals for me the beginning of summer. The park is near Lake Michigan and usually a quick ride through a garden brings me to the Lakefront Trail for my ride home. However, last night I was greeted by this construction site where the garden used to be.
Yikes – I hope they are constructing an even more beautiful garden!
Fortunately, the city set up bike detour signs to guide me along an alternate route. This turned out to be a fun mini-adventure because I never knew of this path.
The path followed the Chicago River…
…with a fancy tunnel to cross under Lakeshore Drive
…which brought me to a bridge over the river
…and led me to the Lakefront Trail.
As I biked up the trail, the sun finished setting.
I ended my journey home on neighborhood streets.
If I wanted to get all deep, I could take this as a reminder that what may at first seem like an imposition could turn out to be an opportunity to try something new.
As I tweeted earlier, today was absolutely the most beautiful day of the year so far to bike in Chicago. Simply perfect. Light wind, warm air, calm water, blue skies, gentle sun, and a hint of a chill to prevent sweating. It doesn’t get better than this. On such days, I am super grateful for my bike, which allows me to spend a lot of time outside just going to and from work.
In addition to biking, fishing is a popular activity on a day like today, as demonstrated above.
I wish all of you similarly perfect bicycling days. :-)
I have a fun new accessory for spring: a beautiful vintage silk scarf that Trisha brought me from her recent trip to Italy.
I used to associate silk scarves with my elderly Sunday school teacher from childhood, but Trisha wears scarves with such effortless chic, I realize now how stylish they can be. I drew inspiration from Trisha yesterday morning when deciding what to wear. The Italian scarf called out to me and allowed me to wear an all-black ensemble without veering into Lydia territory.
The 80 degree weather from Wednesday dropped dramatically to the 40′s, so it was back to tights and long sleeves for me. A silk scarf is lovely for warmer weather with a chill in the air. It’s also fun for bicycling, I learned. With the bright scarf whipping in the wind behind me, I felt a bit ooh la la.
Like a toned-down version of this. :-)
When I got to work, I pulled myself together by slicking back my hair, taming my scarf and throwing on heels that live under my desk. As demonstrated with this very classy bathroom photo.
Now I want to seek out more silk scarves. Lucky for me, they can be found a dime a dozen (almost) at thrift stores. Highly recommended for the civilized transportation bicyclist! (Just be sure the scarf is not too long – don’t want it catching on anything while cycling.)
After a very long winter/early spring, truly warm weather has finally come to Chicago. Yesterday was a whopping 85 degrees!
Bicycling in warm weather feels so different from bicycling in the freezing or even chilly weather. Over the past 6 (7…8…?) months, I’d forgotten how it felt. And there are lots and lots of other bicyclists out there, all of a sudden. Love it!
I picked out my lightest silk skirt and blouse to celebrate the occasion. I retired my black, winter Bern helmet for my happy, pale pink Nutcase helmet. (Unfortunately, I had a sweaty helmet hair situation by the time I returned home in the evening, as shown above.) I also pulled out my fingerless gloves, which I wear in warm weather to prevent discomfort from sweaty palms rubbing against cork grips, as well as to absorb some of the road shock.
That’s about it! Just happy to share my warm weather excitement. :-)
P.S. I’m really enjoying reading everyone’s personal take on the issue in the comments of yesterday’s post, Women, Bicycling and Makeup. Reader Bettina in Germany posted her perspective on her blog, Books, Bikes, and Food (hey, three of my favorite things!).