A Beast of Burden

I had to go out again on this foggy morning and use my bike for a practical purpose.

Although the fog is beginning to clear, planes are still landing in the reverse direction to normal (which means it's foggy at the airport too). You can hear them coming - then suddenly Whoosh! and here it is, over your head. This isn't a trick photo; they really do skim the treetops sometimes. Remember we are near the top and they have to land soon after cresting our hill.

Ok, enough diversions - let's get back to the subject now.

Bicycle riding can be sub-divided into categories such as recreation, sport, health and utility. Most of my riding is for recreation and mental health, and I often avoid the utility function. But this morning I had to bring home a box of See's Dark Chocolates for my wife's birthday. I have other stuff in the handlebar bag too.

I realize this isn't really very utilitarian (except for her), so I did a bit of research and learned this from a Utility Cycling Blog. BTW, I am not quoting directly here, but providing you with an edited summary. The author of that blog is just a little bit too serious and verbose for my taste:

Types of Cycling

We identify four (or more) categories of cycling:

• Recreation: riding for fun, pleasure, the joy of wind on your face and the feeling of flying (albeit with wheels skimming the ground).
• Sport: riding for athleticism, competition, and victory.
• Health: riding to be outside, covering ground, and raising the pulse without the stress on the joints caused by walking or running. Serious health cycling may eventually turn into a fitness or sport theme.
• Utility: riding for productive purposes other than recreation or sport or health.

Utility Cycling 

Utility cycling is using a bicycle as a practical means to accomplish a purpose. Utility cycling may overlap recreational cycling; as a utility cyclist may experience pleasure from riding. Utility cycling may overlap with sport cycling; as a utility cyclist may gain skill and speed from using the bicycle. And utility cycling may contribute to health. But utility cyclists have a purpose in mind other than pleasure or fun or fitness. Cycling is a means to a practical end; goal-oriented; for very tangible, short-term purposes; getting to work or running an errand (or gathering data for a blog). It can encompass these categories:

TRANSPORTATION / COMMUTING

DELIVERY

RETAIL SERVICES

EMERGENCY PATROLS

COMMUNITY BUILDING

POLITICAL STATEMENT

Utility cycling is not about the glory of sport cycling or the fun of recreational cycling, or the exercise value of health cycling, it is concerned with a practical desire to do things efficiently, economically, and even gracefully.

As you can probably tell, my idea of utility cycling means taking pictures of interesting cars and houses, not transporting goods to market or commuting to a job or making a political statement. If I want to get serious about it I need to come up with two things

1. A rack or two on the bike

2. A lock and cable

Being retired and lazy, I'd rather provide you with a photo of a beautiful Buick LeSabre convertible I spotted on the way home with the chocolates.

Now it's clearing overhead - you can see the Marine Layer(s) opening up and burning off.

Pedal, Look and Listen

No wind this morning. It's all fog. And quiet. You can hear the cars coming from behind while they are still a block away. If you are listening for them. If you can hear them over the sound of your own breathing. If your ears are not filled with music or news.

I'm all in favor of music and I like to fill my house with it. But not my ears while walking or cycling. I just think we need to listen to what's going on around us - for self-preservation if nothing else. OK, end of sermon.

Today I rode to the top of the hill, at least the top of the hill I live on. There's a house on top of the hill which was built about 1900. Long ago the builder intended it to be his mansion, then for it to be the central lodge of a group of guest houses. The city refused to accept his plans, so in an angry reaction he cut the big hilltop house in half. For 100 years it's been two, side-by-side houses. On the top of the hill. Here they are. Imagine the central hall filling the gap there?

Here are the same two houses on a sunny day. The one on the left is currently for sale; you can see its listing here. If you have a couple million, come on up to the top of the hill and buy a piece of history.

How do I know the story of the houses? I was told it 40 years ago by the daughter of the angry man. She used to sit out on the front right porch and her sweetheart, Major Gage Brenneman of the Army Air Corps, would fly over in his biplane and toss notes to her (wrapped around a small rock). Until he broke the front window and her dad became an even angrier man.

I love stories like that. She lived within a mile of these houses for more than 80 years, until ill health forced her to move to a convalescent home. Major Brenneman gave his '56 Cadillac to our church youth group, and I used to take a half-dozen kids to the beach in it (in hindsight, not such a good idea, really).

Here's the car photo of the day - a fairly nice Ford Falcon Ranchero, which apparently has been fed a diet of extremely volatile fuel!

The Sea Breeze

What the weather service likes to call "a sea breeze" is what we cyclists who live by the coast call "a headwind" or a curse. To make matters worse, I live part way up a hill, making every trip out a chance to ride home into the wind, and uphill. Our neighborhood ranges from 100-500 feet above sea level.

Here's what the sea breeze felt (and sounded) like today. Notice that I am carefully obeying the SLOW sign mounted along the sidewalk:


Or shown in a still photo, you can see the palm trees bent over and fronds tossing in the wind. While I am considerably closer to the ground than they are, I am still getting most of the force of that wind. In my face.

Does it seem highly subjective to cry "windy!" without empirical evidence? While the trees are bent and the film seems in slow motion (I WAS in slow-mo) I could be exaggerating, right?

Here are the facts from our local weather station. I took my ride between 2:30-3:30 pm. I took the photos around 3 pm.

My brief venture only spanned a few miles, but took me past plenty of cars and scenery. I managed to capture several concepts in one photo. Ratty old pickup, tastefully upgraded home (rock facing), trendy colors on the garage door, deck railing and gate, marine layer clearly visible in the sky ...

I think I've gotten all I need on this trip, so why not stop now and go home? Huff puff. Home I go.

The Marine Layer

We've got dense fog this morning.

Well, not quite fog for most of San Diego. But we have it. What I mean to say is the Marine Layer is providing us with a wet, windy and weird morning. Go to this National Weather Service page if you want the meteorological explanation. Or just look at the picture here:

We are located (relative to the water) at about the point of the 60 degree thermometer. As a result we have either Cloudy or Fog much of the time. The sunny mornings I've captured in the last few weeks are typical of our Winter weather, and not common in the Spring or early Summer.

It's evident in this morning's photo at my favorite weather mirror. Not sunny at all, as in previous days. Notice I am wearing a bright yellow shirt; hoping that it helps people to see me. I've noticed many don't even make a pretense of stopping at the stop signs in our neighborhood (the I'M GOING TO BE LATE TO WORK crowd) - they slide 10-20 feet into the intersection, look both ways, and charge on.

Not far from the mirror is a staircase that goes straight over the edge of the hill and down to some residences at the bottom. It's almost horrifying to walk down the first section of sidewalk, and would be fatal if you tried to ride or skateboard down. The city has installed two pipes at this end and three pipes at the bottom to deter any foolishness. You can see in the photo below - and notice there is no ocean visible - just grey skies marine layer.

At this point I am going to vent some frustration. As I have been looking all around me for unique or interesting cars at the curb each day, I've seen plenty. But I have a request - Mustang Convertible owners please listen up! "NO more red and white Mustang convertibles, ok?" Here's what I've captured within a 1/2 mile radius of my house:

I'm sure there are more hiding in garages, side parking slots, and back gardens. Give us a break, will you? I'll look for them for another week (just for statistical purposes) and then won't ever notice a Mustang again.

Here's the real (non-Mustang convertible) car of the day, a shabby old Datsun Roadster. What you can't see from this angle is the missing passenger seat, full roll cage, debris piled inside, and the general air of a fatigued old half-competitive warrior.

Which is exactly how I feel right now, after this morning's man-powered, marine-layer-explaining, Mustang-locating bicycle ride.

So I am heading home now for a rest and a shower, and maybe a cold beer.

Mid-Century Mauve

I had no real idea what mauve was before I stopped my bike to take a picture of these side-by-side, mid-century homes. The owner of the pink entryway came over and chatted with me about the difficulty of finding "just the ride shade of pink." I replied in a husky voice that I sympathized with her plight. I learned a great deal more about her house - ceiling height, future plans, etc. 

She told me that her next-door neighbor (and fellow color experimentor) had painted the grey-green house about 3-4 times before settling on its current color. I especially like the bold beams - which are NOT that color inside the house, even though it has an open-beam ceiling. My house is from a similar era but it's currently whitish and grayish. Maybe I should consider mauve, she said. 

I finally managed to get away from this cheery, chatty neighbor and her two dogs. After pounding my way across a few miles of busy commercial zone traffic, I reached a quiet park on the harborside. Here's my scenic shot for the day:

And while I am sitting here by the water, I have time for today's obligatory "I am on the bike" photo - it's the Schwinn again.

 I chose this Land Rover Discovery G4 Special Edition for the car of the day, due to its outrageous "livery" as the Brits would say. This orange-black, highly-equipped model was a great idea (commemorating an off-road event through East Timor), but the ones I've seen in SoCal always look a bit bedraggled after a few years in our blazing sun. This one was in great condition.

Finally, as I was riding uphill, into the wind and home, I saw this ever-so-inviting front tree swing offering a seat and some shade. I didn't sit on it, but I was tempted. In the past month I've seen at least a dozen tree swings on my bike rides. Maybe some hot day I'll put them all in a special blog posting.

See to shining sea

Today I am writing to brighten up Chris' day. He lives in one of the most idyllic places in England, but is occupied with tearing out ugly old plaster ceilings, and glancing out the window at a very chilly, windy, snowy day. Brrr. I get cold just looking out this window. [click on any image to enlarge it]

I on the other hand, was hammering down a major street, fighting with potholes, gutters, trash bins, inattentive motorists and my own out-of-shape body. Huff, puff. Mr. Traffic Light, please turn red so I can catch my breath! Oh no, it's green already.

I finally got to the end of the street, and its highest point. Huff, puff. I spotted a nice little bench at the end of a city easement (making it public). I pulled off the crowded commuter track and headed for the bench. Normally I never put my bike on the ground but there wasn't anything handy to lean it on. What happened next? You will have to decide for yourself:

I was

(a)  totally exhausted

(b)  interested in the view

so I 

(a) threw my bike on the dirt,

(b) lowered it gently to the springy turf, 

and 

(a) threw myself on the bench, wheezing

(b) lowered myself gingerly to the flimsy seat, 

and 

(a) tried desperately to catch my breath before I keeled over.

(b) took out my camera for a photo.

After this short period of fatigue-induced schizophrenia, I headed downhill to the water. It's always easy going down to the water. (Even after working as a professional editor for 30 years I had to look up the correct spelling of skitzofrenia.)

I got right DOWN to the water. Holding my camera a few inches above the gently lapping ripples, I captured a sea lion's view of the Robert Gordon Sproul, a marine biologist's dream. Visit the link to learn more, but be sure to hit return to come back and finish the story of my bike ride.

(You wouldn't want me to be sitting at the dock of the bay all day, would you?)

I looked the other direction. More shining sea. Wow - another morning in Paradise. I do appreciate it. This image is larger, to encourage Chris that there is life beyond "snow in March".

Leaving the harbor, I spotted my first Aston Martin of the day. There are two more along this route, but they were no doubt conveying their retired banker-owners to the club for squash. I did spot a Dino 246 and several Porsches - all under their covers this morning.

I passed by one of my favorite homes - with wonderful landscaping - a beautiful mix of succulents, cactus, block and green-stained chimney. This is on the waterfront too, making it even more special.

There you go Chris. Hope this inspires you a bit to get your guest room in tip-top shape before our next visit to Dorset.

Riding in Rain (not)

It has rained two days in a row. That's virtually monsoon weather in San Diego. Here's a graph showing the inches per hour rainfall for the week, from a station a few blocks from my home.

Apparently the measurable rainfall stopped shortly after midnight last night. But it was still spitting when I went out to the store this morning.

I haven't liked riding in the rain since we did a double-century (200-mile) ride. We rode into howling gales and thrashing gusts of rain. We were soaked. Our clothes were two sizes larger - stretched by the weight of the water. We were chilled. Depressed. Hungry.

So I don't mind driving my car while other guys catch the raindrops. These two guys had on bright shirts and rear flashing strobe lights. It's great that they're making the extra effort to Come Home Alive.

Fortunately, we in Southern California can wait an hour or two and be certain the sun will come out. I waited. It came. So I got my bike out and hit the concrete. As shown in my favorite safety mirror in the intersection of two alleys.

I've noticed certain vehicles are popular in our part of town. First-generation Mustangs are always in demand. Here's one that lives a few blocks away. There are a pair (one coupe, one convertible) about a mile in the other direction - maybe I will take a photo of them sometime.

Here is the obligatory photo proving that I was indeed on the bike. Like that gold-tone chain?

My wife has now gone out on her bike to catch a little sunshine too, and I am left home baking bread and writing the blog.