Lettuce Ride

Not all outings threaten to mangle ye olde she-taint. Today's ride was simple -- a very familiar, somewhat short ride to my garden. Another fine use for my basket: carrying a claw and hoe in it makes for easy access to self-defense tools, should they be needed. It also holds less lethal items, like fresh-picked lettuce.

After one of many trips here, I noticed a certifiable bike rack in the vicinity. This means not needing to wheel my bike into the cluttered garden anymore!

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Drive To Bike To Work

Last Friday I was invited to accompany a Bike Walk Connecticut Board Member to Elm City Cycling's Bike To Work Breakfast in New Haven. It was a well-run, well-stocked (good food!) and well-attended event that made me wish I could have attended a Hartford counterpart this very morning. Last month's one-time deal was all well and good and fun, but I would love to see it continue as a year-round monthly event, however low-key.

Since neither of us had the time to pedal the 90-mile round trip and Amtrak's bike policy is a sorry load of crap, we reached the Elm City by station wagon, suffering the mild indignity of unloading our bikes in a parking garage and wheeling them up the sidewalk. The weather was beautiful, people were in good moods and a small set of speakers were hooked up to provide the morning noshers with tunes and announcements from Elm City Cycling and Bike Walk CT. People lingered a bit after 9:00 AM. It was a casual Friday morning to be sure.

We followed up the breakfast with a guided mini-tour of New Haven that included some neighborhood landmarks, the East Coast Greenway route and waterfront vistas.I shook my fist in the general direction of Amtrak (and, by default, Metro North, which is better than Amtrak but has miles of room for improvement regarding bikes) as we passed the train station. I later biked to a job interview in Hartford, so my conscience was cleared of guilt from partaking in an unearned free breakfast.

Right here in Hartford, this month's Critical Mass ride will be visiting the West End Farmers' Market for some locally-grown goodness. Meet near the Bushnell Park carousel this evening at 6 PM. Read more!

Some stuff to do, if you're sick of your bike

Tomorrow is supposed to have nice weather, but since Sunday is also supposed to be nice, you should forgo your Saturday bike ride and check these things out instead.

Manny Mania at Heaven (New Ross, County Wexford Park)

Skateboards are cool and this a contest dedicated to the manual. As a member of Hartford's Skateboarding Task Force, I strongly encourage you to go. Competition starts at noon and goes to around 4.

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And... Another installment of Catalogue!

CATALOGUE Reminder for this Saturday, June 26th @ 8: Russ Podgorsek

Grace, Grease, and Guidepoles

Saturday, June 26, 2010

8 o'clock

342 Oakwood Avenue

West Hartford, CT

(Please note that this show will NOT take place at Arbor Street, but rather at the above residence. Parking is on Oakwood and surrounding streets.)

Russ is a violist and composer. He is a graduate of the Hartt School of Music (CT) and the University of Dayton (OH) where he studied composition with David Macbride, Larry Alan Smith and Phillip Magnuson. He was recently commissioned by the Salisbury Symphony Orchestra (MD) to write his "MicroSymphony" and by the Sudbury Youth Orchestra (ON) for his "Lament and Lullaby" for string orchestra. He was also recently featured as composer-in-residence for the 2008 Simsbury Chamber Music Festival (CT) with performances of his music by the New World Trio and Les Inegales.

Russ will be performing a group of new compositions. There will be a stage. There will be players. There will be Russ, sometimes yelling, always serenading. Russ will confront us in the basement of 342 Oakwood, and if we are so inclined, we will listen from the yard outside, and watch via live feed (love those). We will celebrate the coming of another CATALOGUE. There will be S'mores. And Vodka.

CATALOGUE is a monthly event that showcases artists, musicians and other creative endeavors, and is hosted by Joe Saphire, Nick Rice, and Joel VanderKamp. The event is a collaboration between artist, curator, community and space. CATALOGUEs for May: Dawn Holder, as well as other previous shows, will be available on the 26th.

Contact us for directions or questions: CATA.info.LOGUE@gmail.com, and please pass this reminder along to those we might have missed.

Joe Saphire

Nick Rice

Joel VanderKamp

Read more!

Sizzle

So, I was about to write a post and I smelled something burning. It seems my card reader here just burned up my memory card. Read more!

Talcum Crotch Rode

After the pious finally reach mecca -- dollars to doughnuts -- a few among them feel more than a tinge let down. Despite tiring of the institution, I can still appreciate handiwork and odd relics. When the opportunity to visit the local poetry mecca afforded itself to me yesterday, I succumbed.

Not long after the Sunken Garden Poetry & Music Festival debuted in 1992 was I informed by nearly everyone I knew that I should make the pilgrimage. Not only should I journey through the woods, across the river, and up hills, I was told to submit my poetry so that I might read there. Methinks my poetry was too fresh for their Fresh Voices Competition, and then I had no idea how to get in there as an adult writer, so I sort of allowed the Hill-Stead Museum fall off my radar after several years of obsessing over the place. Yesterday, after eighteen years of curiosity, I visited.

I remembered that the price of parking was reasonable. The amount of two dollars was in my head. Some last minute research showed how very wrong I was. While admission was free, it would cost ten dollars to park in their lot. I don't spend over two dollars to park anywhere, and given the suburban setting, trying to park on street seemed pregnant with the promise of returning later in the evening to find that my Honda had been towed. I recently read that the neighbors of the Hill-Stead have their boxers all bunched up over the traffic created by the museum's farmers' market. Because of time constraints that would not allow for us to just ride there, Interstatement proposed that we load our bikes on the bus and then ride home from the event. I cringed at the thought of my Jenny flailing around on the front of the bus, but knew that of my bicycles, she would have to be the one as the others lacked appropriate number of functioning gears.

We loaded our bikes in Asylum Hill on a bus which had the final destination of Unionville. Our addition of bikes to the front of the bus apparently shook up passengers. They could not understand what we would do this. A bit later, the bus allowed for a man using a wheelchair to board, which was also a controversy amongst these passengers, as I learned they already had one person in a wheelchair ride earlier. Seems like people along Route 4 have a very low threshold for changes in their routines.

Speaking of routine, the bus driver was asking potential passengers what bus stops for them next. At an intersection, she wanted to know if she should turn right. I get that this was not her normal route, but the bus full of loons lacking indoor voices, plus a seemingly confused driver does not exactly inspire confidence. Meanwhile, I was cringing at every pothole we hit, waiting for the Jenny to come crashing down from her docking station and fall under the wheels of the bus. For $1.25 each, we arrived at the museum. Zooming past the parking attendant was fun. There did not appear to be any designated bike racks, so we tied up to a light post which we later came to learn was an unofficial mosquito breeding ground.

The grounds of the museum are picturesque, bucolic even. We could hear Common Ground playing already, so did not want to dawdle exploring the site. The band did some kind of gospel number that did not jive with me, but then they switched back to Afro Cuban jazz while we snacked on crackers and honey chevre. Besides the music, lovely garden, and ambient sounds of livestock, what was most notable was the formidable silence otherwise.

The poetry segment began with what reminded me of (one of the reasons) why I lost interest with spoken poetry -- the air of pretension. Later, poet Bessy Reyna read in English and Spanish. Her style was more enjoyable to me, though I wish I had seen her perform more locally, where I would not have felt the sense of embarrassment listening to an audience not knowing when to applaud due to lack of understanding one of the languages.

As we headed back to gather our bikes, we encountered the Overloaded Bike that Brendan Hates. The willingness to pay ten dollars to park somewhere must be the norm because we were treated with awe in the parking lot. A concerned woman informed us that it "is not exactly flat" on our way back to Hartford. Interstatement thought she was being nice, but I think this sort of observation is silly. Even if she knew we had taken the bus there, would she not have figured out that along the route we would have observed the hilliness of the region?

While the cars created a traffic jam getting out of the lot, we rode down a dark drive that offered an unprecedented-for-the-day cool breeze. This section was gated off from the street, so it was just us and the fireflies. When we reached Mountain Spring Road and Talcott Notch Road, I began to really miss Hartford. There were no street lights on these windy, often shoulderless roads. The darkness would have been a nice change had it been a clear night without cars bombing up and down the road. I was reminded of why I never rode a bike in my hometown-- people drive far too fast for the roads, are not looking for bicyclists, and quite often have a few drinks in them. It was hilly, as expected, and probably would have been less awful if the humidity were not what it was. When not getting ready to vomit, I was preoccupied with not flying off the bike as I hit an uncountable number of potholes which were impossible to see. My gears starting doing funny things. It was a suckfest.

Around the crossing with Route 4, we pulled into some massive parking lot to tinker with gears. Rather, Interstatement tinkered. I guzzled my lemonade and tried to find my zen place. The rest of the ride was beautiful. The roads became more predictable, or at least were well-lit so that I could anticipate potential problems. An actual shoulder appeared. Before I knew it we were passing the Reservoir, which, by the way, looks excessively simple to ride into during the late evening. We cruised downhill most of the rest of the way home, even getting to see a bunny scamper across Boulevard.

I am pretty certain that I would skip those two windy roads in the future, and possibly also, the bus.

Read more!

Summers and Governors

First day of summer! Yay! In its honor, we should go mountain biking. So, meet me at the Reservoir in the rt. 4 parking lot around 5:30. It's the longest day of the year, so we can ride late. I'm assuming that no one is going to read this and show up.

Also, I got an interesting email from Mary Glassman's campaign outlining the campaign's bike policy. I like Mary Glassman a lot, so I would expect nothing less than her being the only candidate proffering a bike policy. (Admitedly, I haven't been super impressed with her running mate's campaign so far and I worked for that guy in 2006). Here's a link to the policy.

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Bikes Outside: For Reals

This morning brings us a bumper crop of bikes outside at this past Thursday evening's Creative Cocktail Hour. I spotted some familiar bikes about town including the gadgetized Bianchi that irked Brendan once upon a time. Turnout was no doubt boosted by Real Art Ways' offer of discounted admission and valet parking for anyone arriving on a bicycle. The evening was bike-themed and included an opportunity for people to decorate their bikes for the Saturday night Real Ride. Whatever the reason, it was great to see so many bikes assembled in one place.


Read more!

Real Ride Hartford (and West Hartford) Bicycle Parade

Preface: There were photographers with actual camera mounts for their madly expensive gear, so if you want to see "professional-looking" photos, I'm sure those will be online somewhere in a few days.

Saturday evening's bicycle parade made me very proud, happy, and relieved that I live in Hartford. More on that later. We began at Real Art Ways on Arbor Street. Here, people had the chance to tart up their bikes with lights and random art supplies provided by Anne Cubberly. There was a fish bicycle
(perhaps a reference to the quote often falsely attributed to Gloria Steinem?), cat bike, horse bike, clock bike, and demon bike. Those stuck out the most in my memory. Others were piled with lights and glowing orbs. One gal had a plastic flower on the front of her bicycle -- it dispensed bubbles! I did not get the chance to talk to her, but I see a mobile bubble dispenser as part of my future. At least two riders had awesome camera mounts which I am sure enabled them to take focused, high resolution, non-blurry photos that they are not going to be ashamed of showing to the public. There was at least one tandem and it was rigged with a souped up vuvuzela. That I can not describe each and every bike says something about the turnout. There was at least four times as many people there than I expected would show -- some coming down from Boston for the event.


The parade turned right onto Arbor Street, then right up Capitol Avenue. We turned left down Flower Street, crossed the railroad tracks, and then turned right onto Farmington/Asylum. The ride stopped at ArtSpace (555 Asylum Street) so that we could meet up with people who were attending the Art for AIDS fundraiser. It would have made more sense to stop in the back lot instead of on the incline of the street, but it also would have made sense for the stops to last ten minutes or more to allow for a drink/bathroom break. We did not go inside ArtSpace or Billings Forge, so the purpose for stopping at each place was unclear. In the future, more work could go into allowing for people at each venue and on bicycles to mingle, if that's the point. I'm not saying it wasn't fun. I thought it was a blast. But the stops could have been a bit longer. Anyway, I know that the original plan was for this ride to take an hour. I think the route planners forgot that it was going to be a slow ride, made perhaps even slower by the presence of a DJ being hauled on a trailer behind a bicycle. You just can't take corners fast on that kind of rig and who wants to rush along a trailer full of awesome?

From ArtSpace we continued into and through Bushnell Park, but only a sliver of it to cut behind the Legislative Office Building and Armory. We looped back onto Capitol Avenue and then Broad Street so we could stop at Billings Forge. Since an artist briefly spoke to the group, this stop seemed more meaningful. There was some kind of solstice event supposedly going on at Billings Forge. When we rode through, it seemed like only a few people were outside of the venue/compound.


Here is where dynamics got weird. And by dynamics, I mean that almost everyone in the parade was white and we were about to head further into Frog Hollow -- an area I am convinced was virgin territory for a number of the cyclists. Disclosure: I am perhaps being overly sensitive about this because I live here and am very familiar with the area and people. Before heading back on Broad Street and down Park, I overheard a couple people making remarks about how they hoped the musical selections for the area were "appropriate." This was followed by several Speedy Gonzalesesque cheers. Very not okay. Very WTF. Guess this reminded me that I can not stereotype all artists or bicyclists as being open-minded or aligned with progressive values. Maybe instead of a bubble machine, I could rig my bike with a flamethrower in order to more productively deal with racially and ethnically bizarre comments.


Riding up Park Street made me proud to live in Hartford. It was around 9-9:30pm, I'd guess, and the sidewalks were busy. People were outside cheering us. Really cheering us. There is this great vibe that emanates from the area and makes it hard not to smile, honk, wave, and holler back. A strong contingent of kids joined us for a ways, riding their BMX, department store, and low-rider bikes on sidewalks and in the streets. The photo at the beginning of this blog post is of two of them. I yelled for them to join in, and two or three stuck with us for the rest of the ride. These kids made the event seem more like a parade and less like a regular old ride. Another funny indication that some riders had no idea where they were: I overheard one woman getting nervous about the presence of a police cruiser coming down Park Street. Really? Really?! I got stopped by a cop on Park once for looking suspicious while pushing a wheelbarrow filled with shovels and pitchforks. He wanted to know why I had these tools, so of course I told him something like they were for stabbing someone to death and then burying her. My memory on that conversation blurs a bit. Maybe I said they were for farming. I don't recall. A little traffic on the street is nothing they aren't used to. Hell, just a couple weeks ago, in the lead up to the Puerto Rican Day Parade, the street was used to showcase everyone's decorated rides, causing far more severe traffic jams, and the police involvement was kept to a respectful minimum. The government that governs best governs least.



I hope this ride was educational for non-local or non-bike-commuters, as the amount of broken glass in the bike lanes and streets is something that a large number of people are now aware of and could complain about. There are some immediate infrastructure differences between Hartford and West Hartford. The moment we crossed into the suburb, the pavement became smooth. The only real debris there was roadkill. While a less comfortable ride, I felt safer in Hartford. Cars seemed to give us more space and props in the city. The horns were cheering us, not expressing impatience with us and then zooming past at 50 miles per hour. During the week, I experience plenty of impatient, distracted drivers whizzing past me in the city, but on Saturday night, they all seemed chill.


And then we crossed into West Hartford. The pavement became so smooth and we could hear the sound of our tires against it, which is to say that nearly all of the observer encouragement ceased. While passing one of those restaurants with outdoor patios (I know which one, but I'm not going to give them free publicity) on Park Road, we actually received polite golf claps (not to be confused with booty claps. we received no booty claps that I am aware of). There were a few cheers, but the ratio of noise to people was sorely disappointing. C'mon! Live a little! It's okay to break with decorum, particularly on a beautiful Saturday night in the summer.

Around this area, someone asked, "What are you doing?" to which I responded, "Riding a bicycle!" Duh! "But what for?" "To ride. Because it's fun." Someone else jumped in to give a convoluted explanation of what we are doing. My policy? When people ask stupid questions, keep the answers short so that they can understand. If we were riding for "something" we would have had signs or shirts announcing that probably.


We turned onto South Quaker, then left onto Boulevard. Here, the street got very dark and even quieter. Up in the Center, we did some zigzagging and I did not bother paying attention to all of the road names. Some of the people dining outdoors on LaSalle Road were more supportive. We looped around, returning to Main Street and then cut through Blue Back Square. Again, a decent number of people outside, but too, too quiet. We took Farmington Avenue down to Sisson Avenue, Capitol Avenue, and then Arbor or Orange (depending on whether or not the cyclist felt like following directions), back to the Real Art Ways parking lot. The only part of the ride where there were impatient motorists seemed to be on Farmington Avenue, in West Hartford Center, and Blue Back Square. But for the few jerks behind steering wheels, there were a number of patient motorists who waited calmly while everyone passed.


Despite the amount of broken glass and potholes, I do not think anyone popped a tire. I only saw one person fall, and it was one of those "can't get my foot out of the clip" incidents -- toppling over, more than a violent collision. She said she was okay. I heard something pop or snap on another rider's bike but don't know what happened. Some shit fell off my bike when I hit one of the many potholes, but the lost items were not integral to the operation of the machine, and I basically knew they were not going to stay on because I rushed the decoration process.

It was heartening to see so many females and even a few children riding, which of course begs the question -- why am I not seeing this many women on the road normally?


Read more!

RAW deals

This weeks Hartford Advocate features a cover story on how lousy Connecticut is about accommodating cyclists, showing that they are right on top of the breaking news that we discussed here in January. Lest you get mopey from the DOT's neglect, take comfort in some of the local bike love that's all around:

Tonight, for instance, you get free or discounted admission (depending on whether or not you are a RAW member) to Real Art Ways' Creative Cocktail Hour if you arrive by bicycle. If that's not enough V.I.P. treatment, you can bring your bike right inside where artist Anne Cubberly will host a bike decorating workshop. Why would you want to decorate your bike, you might reasonably ask?

On Saturday, you can join the Real Ride hARTford at 7:30 PM, which is described as such:

"Art up your bike and throw on some lights for a night ride through our neighborhood, Parkville. The one-hour guided bike tour, with a DJ on wheels, leaves from and returns to Real Art Ways. The outdoor cafe and bar will be open for libations or just freshening your water bottle."

I'm taking a break from working on the DJ trailer as I type this. What better maiden voyage for my new utility trailer than to load it up with a friend and his DJ equipment?
Read more!

Saving the MDC Trails

MDC trail access advocates have launched a new site where you can learn more about efforts to fight threats to public access to the reservior trails and add your name to the list of supporters.

Photo courtesy savethemdctrails.org Read more!

Scaring people

My bike is a big Keats fan.

As stated in previous posts, sometimes I ride my bike around the abandoned Cedarcrest buildings. They're pretty spooky, in fact, all of Cedar Hill is pretty spooky: animal cemetery, human cemeteries, strange closed roads, abandoned mental institution, abandoned children's hospital, quarry, coyotes, CT Department of Special Revenue (who knows what that is?), etc. There are websites about it and everything. Anyway, since I worked late because of a Council meeting, it was dark by the time I entered the woods. I turned on my light and rode around for awhile and came out on Mountain Road in Newington. There was a kid walking his dog and I scared the crap out of him. And, upon relfection, I realized that I would also be scared by some weird, fast-moving white light descending towards you from a hill with bizarre spooky buildings on it. Even saying hello to the young man did nothing to freak him out less. In fact, it probably made matters worse.

What are they doing at Cedar Hill?

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Paul

I've always thought Paul Components are awesome. When I was a middle schooler, my dream was to outfit my mountain bike with Paul Components and be awesome. I also wanted to be a professional mountain biker, a DJ and live in Toronto. I guess, I've still got a long way to go with my life. Anyway, that Paul Rasta powerglide derailer was going to be the center piece of my awesome bike. Back in the 1990s, that thing retailed for like $325 or $350 or something like that and at some point between the 90s and now, they stopped making them. According to an ebay auction, it presently goes for $750, which is at the high end of what I pay for a whole bike. It would appear that Paul has gone the singlespeed route these days, since they make things that restrict chain movement instead of promoting it.

So, anyway, my lifelong dream owning some Paul componentry has finally been fulfilled, as a I bought a Paul chainkeeper and now I can carry pasta and 12 packs of Miller Lite on bumpy environs without fear of dropping my chain.

And, this morning I was able to combine my love of putting my lunch in front of my bike and my love of the Census:

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Bikes Outside: Pratt Lacks Racks

This Monday's bike outside was spotted downtown on Pratt Street. I was enjoying a Sunday morning coffee at Jojo's when someone in our city's government (who is neither Brendan nor Ben) rode up, locked up, and came in. This cheers me up for at least two reasons:

First, to paraphrase H.G. Wells, when I see a city official on a bicycle I do not despair for the future of Hartford.

Second, the fact that this city official had to lock his bike to a trash can means that one more of the powers that be is personally aware of Hartford's sorry lack of public bike racks.

My own bike was locked to a better suited (U-lock compatible) railing in the alley next to Jojo's at the time these pictures were taken, but that's no bike rack. Proper bike parking areas are few and far between in Hartford, but their absence on a downtown "showcase" street like Pratt is more glaring.

Like Pratt Street, this early 90's Trek 8500 could use a bit of sprucing up to recapture its former glory. At a distance, they both look nice, but the eye begins to get drawn to Pratt's cracked granite and loose bricks and the Trek's balding tires at close range. They're both solid and worthy of the attention, though. Other dings and scratches suggest that this mountain bike has been used for its intended purpose, which is cool.

I'm optimistic that we could see more bicycles carrying our city officials around. It could save the city gas money and parking woes. They don't require a license. One or two have shown promise, and could be convinced to ride more with a bit of encouragement on the citizens' part. I think it would put them in a better frame of mind.


Read more!

Bad ride

I rode my bike a lot this week, but the quality has been sliding the last few days. Yesterday, it was the weather and today, well, it was the bike. Obviously, a talentless dolt blames his tool, but today, it was not going my way. The front derailer was pissed at me and I couldn't get traction in my rear tire to save my life. The pedals had no desire to hold on to my feet and somehow I bent the metal thing inside my shoe where the cleat attaches. And, I crashed twice. It wasn't like other not-great-rides, where I'm either off balance or I can't seem to find a metabolic rhythm (not that I'm remotely good enough or in shape enough to have any like a metabolic rhythm). This was different, the bike just didn't want to operate right.

My Stumpjumper has always been a moody bike. I think it feels like I've bought other bikes to replace and spurn it. It's so not the case, though, I've showered this thing with cool parts and treat it like a member of the family. Maybe it really misses that Judy XC it used to have that fell apart. Who knows?

Oh, and since I don't have a helmet cam, check out my first cell phone cam artistry:

Read more!

Festival of Smug

Biking in the rain provides many surprises, especially when one is loath to check the meteorologists' predictions for the day. Needing to venture to West Hartford Center to do some banking, I opted to leave the house on the early side. There is an immeasurably unpleasant one-block stretch of Capitol Avenue that is most tolerable when the sphincteral drivers veering toward the I-84 onramp are at an absolute minimum. My timing was excellent and I arrived in the WH Center/ Blue Back Square area with nary a bead of sweat. What's more, I learned that it was the annual Celebrate! West Hartford Festival – which I had always avoided like the plague in the past, only partially because the sloganeers are punctuationally impaired. By the way, I have an amazing track record for avoiding the plague. But this time, on bike, I smugly and gleefully zoomed past the orgy of SUVs and minivans, all bedecked with that annoying WH smiley-face bumpersticker. Sometimes I like to rub wounds with salt. Big chunks of kosher salt. I rode in the middle of Raymond Road and made the traffic worse. This is not something I would do normally, but hell, the whole point, I thought, of a town center is for peeps to mingle. I had a choice spot on the REI bike rack. When I returned to it later, there were loads of other bikes on it. Quite pleasin' to the eye.

After taking care of the necessary errands, I decided to wander through the festivities to see what all the fuss was about. The arts and crafts were surprisingly non-kitschy (as a whole), so I added two photographs to my collection. I was hoping to find a gangsta Star of David belt buckle, but nobody had those. Maybe I need to have a booth next year.

Around this point, I realized how massive an event this was. They had all manner of adorable animals to get bitten by, and trust me, it's an honor to get nipped by a llama. Rides, food, a women's chorus, every bank in creation trying to expand business...impressive. The West Hartford cops were raffling off a “kids bike” which was basically the standard bike that adults in the aluminum returning business ride in Hartford, except that the one they were raffling was new, pretty, and not coated with a layer of beer residue.


Something terribly frightening is realizing that one is lost in Blue Back Square. Once in the middle of all the vendor booths and rides, I could not see a way out. I am forever in debt to the girl pushing the Park Road Playhouse for pointing me in the right direction. Meandered to REI. You are all on notice. Next time I say “REI,” just jack me up and take my debit card away. I don't know what happened, except that I definitely will need to show up for work every day next week to rectify the situation. Around my birthday, I justify a lot of things by saying that “nobody ever remembers my birthday, so I'll just get myself things I like.” On the plus side, three of the four items are completely practical, and the other item is brainfood. I've done worse.

Not planning to purchase every last thing that was not bolted down in West Hartford, it took me awhile to properly load my bicycle. Two minutes into my trip home, it began to rain. No rain gear, no lights, a new book, and two new pieces of art. Nothing much to do about it, so I just pedaled at normal speed and made sure that drivers didn't yank out in front of me. Only had to give the finger once, which is not bad. Lady Gaga needs to learn that the middle finger is a magical sign that should be used only when absolutely necessary. When at baseball games, you give the finger to an umpire who makes a lousy call. Not to everyone who looks in your general direction. The Lady is no Madonna, that's for sure.

As I got closer to home, other cyclists – equally unprepared for the downpour – were giving me the whole “what's up” thing, but had the good sense to compliment Jenny so as not to seem overly skeevy. It was only upon arriving home that I learned that the rain storm had rendered my shirt completely transparent. Awesome. Read more!

Saturate

What's up with all this rain? My shoes can't dry fast enough to keep up. I'm gonna have to get some SPD sandals soon! Well, no, not really, but I think buying so many steel frames wasn't a great idea.

The pool is overflowing! Read more!

Pasta: still on the move!

This time it's macaroni and cheese.

So, anyway, I've decided that I'm not really in favor the Windsor bike path because it involves cutting down trees and paving open space. If it were in a disused railroad corridor or part of another project, I'd be all over it, but not in this case, or at least how it's described to me.

But, you probably don't share my opinion. So, here are the details:

Trail Description

The proposed trail to be constructed will begin in the north at the DEP Boat Launch Area on East Barber Street and continue south approximately 3,200 feet ending at Meadow Road. The trail will be a 10-foot wide bituminous concrete path and will include a 10-foot wide prefabricated pedestrian bridge approximately 80 feet in length crossing Decker’s Brook.

Connectivity

This project is to construct the river trail that will eventually connect the Town of Windsor and the City of Hartford. The completed river trail will be an integral part of a trail system that crosses the Connecticut River and connects the Charter Oak Greenway to South Windsor, Vernon, East Hartford, Manchester and the East Coast Greenway. Riverfront Recapture, Inc. has endorsed this project as a link to their Riverwalk trail system in Hartford.

Trail Users

The existence of the river trail will increase the bike-to-work opportunities between Windsor and Hartford. Additionally, the trail will provide walkers, joggers, and others who are not able to use motorized transportation a safe travel way and the opportunity to enjoy the scenic beauty of the Connecticut River. Direct access to the river will be provided by clearing brush at various locations along the trail. Benches and landscaping will be installed along the trail and the riverbank to allow people to relax in a tranquil environment. Parking for people using the trail will be available at the DEP Boat Launch Area at East Barber Street.

Master Planning

The land is owned by the State of Connecticut, Department of Environmental Protection. DEP is considering further use of the area once the trail is constructed and in operation. This includes establishing tent areas, additional parking, canoe launches and educational opportunities.

The council's finance committee meets on Monday, June 14th at 7:00 in the Ludlow Room of Windsor's Town Hall (275 Broad Street) to determine if the town should enter into an agreement with the Department of Environmental Protection to construct the trail.

UPDATE!

So, I've been corresponding with Emily Moon, Assistant Town Manager in Windsor. She's the one who first told me about this. It would seem I'm entirely correct about trees being taken down. Here's her clarification:

Brendan,

One quick clarification. I just spoke with our town engineer. He said that the trail alignment will likely include some scrub brush clearing and some clearing of seedling overgrowth and a few minor, overgrowth trees. We will design the trail alignment to avoid large and significant trees.

I read your posting and it gives the impression that we'll be cutting down a lot of trees. That's not the case. We really are going to do everything we can to avoid cutting down trees. We have to construct a bridge crossing that will require us to clear some growth, but we'll largely avoid cutting down trees to create this trail.

-Emily

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Thoughts on a name

Early this spring, the bombshell was dropped that the Central Connecticut Bicycle Alliance's familiar name would be no more. The organization is now known as Bike Walk Connecticut. They stressed that the full name was to be used at all times, so the abridgments that immediately sprang to my mind, such as BiWaCo and BikWaConn, or BWC are not approved. As both a slow typist and speaker, I lament this. I am always looking to maximize my syllabic efficiency, and this new nomenclature could prove persistently cumbersome. CCBA slipped smoothly and swiftly off the tongue like a wet Sucrets. I miss it. After a few months, I confess that I haven't gotten used to the new name yet.

Part of it is that I lament the organization is no longer an alliance in name. A word like "Alliance" can give anything a more appealing cache. If you and your compatriots are in any (non-Renault) alliance, there is an unmistakable sense of camaraderie. It makes you want to march (or ride, of course) with banners and sashes. It gives you automatic clout and presence. Your foes will cower. Soon your group will be referred to simply as "The Alliance" and everyone will know who that means. If anything, they should have gone with a more heroic-sounding name, like "Bicycle Liberation Front" or "Car-Smiting Velo Resistance"

My understanding is that the reasons for the name change were to extend the organization's reach state-wide and to include pedestrians in the mix. That's all well and good, but they could have done so with jazzier names. Here are a few:

Feet: Our Only Transportation (acronym: FOOT)- Easy to remember. Feet are integral to both walking and bicycling. The annual fund-raising dinner could be called the FOOT Ball.

Wary Eastern Riders Of Cycling Kickassery (acronym: WE ROCK)- A bit brash, perhaps, but also easy to remember. "You can too!" could be a recruiting slogan for prospective members who would also like to rock out with us (no rooster jokes, please)

Walking Impressively Tones Hindquarters, UnderStood? (acronym: WITH US)- The acronym is inherently inclusive! Slogan/rallying cry: If you're not WITH US, you're against us! (err, that may dilute the inclusiveness a bit, actually, but I'd still go with it) Sort of pedestrian-centric, but does reinforce the notion that exercise gives you a nicer-looking rump.

Alliance Against Autodependence (acronym: AAA) It's an alliance! Confused motorists would call the organization's hotline when their cars die. A svelte volunteer would arrive with a loaner bike, simultaneously performing both a field rescue and an intervention. What could possibly go awry in this scenario?

The more inspirations I have (and I assure you, dear readers, there will inevitably be more) the less I feel like BiWaCo will be ringing me up for advice. They will likely stick with their current name, and I will likely learn to get used to it. Read more!