Category: My Brompton

Post-Sandy, the earth is particularly soggy, and temperatures are dropping.  Basil and I took a short ride to check out a new bridge that a local city has put up so that people can get between several small parks without crossing a busy street.

The street crosses a creek on the stone bridge in the background; the rusty bars belong to the new bridge.  It’s “finished” in rust, which I guess will prove labor-saving over time.  Does it matter if the iron-y run-off flows into the creek?

Basil and bridge:

I rarely see pedestrians here, and almost never see other cyclists, but on this day a dad and his very young son came down the path and over the bridge together — the little guy on training wheels.  This may be a case of “if you build it, they will come”.

I’ll need to work on my layering now that the weather’s changing.  Today (46 degrees)  my torso and legs were fine, but my arms were cold.

One perfect blanket of leaves:

This was taken pre-Sandy, of course, and was probably the last truly fall vision Basil and I will share until next year.

One of the pleasures of small towns in the eastern USA is the prevalence of alleyways.  Riding in town can be very predictable, but an alley always offer the possibility of discovering something new.  You can’t really be sure what you’ll see next.

Here, for instance, is an otherwise hidden cupola:

I admit to a fondness for old wooden garages, too.  This one is rather plain, but has a wonderful gate (perhaps hiding a secret garden?).  The urn on the corner of the wall is an excellent touch, too.

Alleys are another world, all their own, and not one most of us are likely to explore by car.

Before Hurricane Tropical Storm Sandy, Basil and I rode on a wet, leaf-covered trail for the first time.  It was a bit daunting; soggy leaves were so deep in places that I wondered what might be hiding beneath.

Having read recently about the damage hitting a squirrel can do to squirrel, bicycle and cyclist, I was particularly wary of critters, but the thought of smacking into a hidden limb was worrisome, too.

I needn’t have worried; we encountered nary a twig, and Basil, it turns out, handles autumnal damp like a champion.

Autumn is my favorite season.  I love the mix of colors, and surprises like this flash of orange in the greenery here:

Not to mention what a pleasure it is to experience not only this mix of colors, but of textures, too.

Winter has its own beauty, but these sights are the ones I look forward to most of all.

. . .  or mostly so.   This tree is majestic, just the same, and dwarfs Basil:

Here he is at his leanest, with no baggage at all:

Autumn makes for wonderful cycling.  Love my Brompton!

The day after I picked up Basil wasn’t really a good cycling day, since no way was I crazy enough to ride my brand-new Brompton on NYC streets, and I was dealing with some time constraints.  I did get a lot of practice taking my Brompton on mass transit, though, going from 168th to 81st (subway);  across the park (bus); down to 14th/Chambers (subway); back up to 59th (subway); across the East River (tram); and back again.

First thing (after stop back at NYCeWheels because I’d forgotten to get a receipt for Basil) was Chambers St./City Hall, where I had a lunch date.  Here’s Basil, next to a park bench:

Bromptons don’t have kickstands; Basil is resting on a luggage rack. If he didn’t have the rack, he’d be sitting on a couple of small wheels that would hold him upright.

As a side note, the plaza was sunny, so we ate Korean from a kiosk, which was surprisingly good, though not as spicy as we make it at home. Chapche dupbap.

Basil fit neatly by the table. Have I mentioned yet how nice it is to grab a quick bite without locking up a bicycle?

Then I headed to Roosevelt Island.  It’s possible to cycle across the bridge, and one day I may, but I was enchanted with the idea of taking a tram across the river, Brompton in tow.

Here’s the tram, preparing to dock in Manhattan:

And a view from inside, of traffic coming off the bridge. Yep, I was just as happy that I wasn’t riding in that. Newbie caution isn’t all bad. (Though the traffic doesn’t look particularly terrible, by NYC standards.)

This is the bridge of the famous 59th Street Bridge Song of Simon and Garfunkel; the tram runs along side. The structure isn’t quite as airy-fairy as the tune.

Roosevelt Island itself? Hmm, what to say? It’s a tiny strip of land, densely populated by skyscrapers.

It is possible to ride around most (and possibly all) of the perimeter, and it looks as if efforts have been made to make it pedestrian-, wheelchair-, and bike-friendly, though parts of what was apparently the path were closed off, and, in other places, the path seemed to peter out. At one end is a lighthouse:

At the other end is a hospital, which explained the huge number of motorized wheelchairs that were apparent all over the island, especially in an area near the lighthouse, which was formally designated as a park, and decorated with a sign expressly forbidding alcoholic beverages. It was a beautiful day, and the men in wheelchairs were taking full advantage — some of them zipping about at high speed. What can I say? It felt like spring, though the sky was occasionally overcast.

In spite of the rather forbidding and largely unimaginative landscape, someone has left a bit of whimsy on the asphalt near the visitor’s center, which is best viewed from the tram:

What does it mean? I have no idea, but that looks like a squashed pedestrian, and a fallen bicycle. And is that a lizard, on the lower left, eating another pedestrian?

Moving right along, the views from the tram are amazing, though a bit tricky to capture if said tram is full of people, restricting a photographer’s movements.

From the tram, Manhattan looks weirdly less dense than does Roosevelt Island, thanks in part to the East Side Greenway,  the waterfront, and cross streets.

The previous day, when I’d ridden down the Greenway, I’d gone up a ramp that goes under the tram lines, next to this edifice.  I have no idea what that stuff on the roof is. Is it art? Is it left-over construction bits? Is it both?  Hmmm.

Ah, Manhattan, you look so unreal to an insignificant human, hanging by a cable, high above you:

This lovely little park wouldn’t look out of place in a train set, would it?

Obviously, I couldn’t take a picture of the tram I was in while it was docking, so here’s a shot of one landing on the Roosevelt Island side:

The cycling was fun (though the island was much smaller than I’d thought), and it was  great to see New York from the air — or, rather, from an altitude considerably lower than that afforded by an airplane. Today was primarily notable for having  learned that hauling my Brommie around the city was perfectly feasible, even for a smallish, wimpish person like me.

It wasn’t until several days later that I noticed that my Brompton-hauling technique needed revisiting: I had been cluelessly bumping the bike against my right leg, and had thoroughly bruised it. Don’t do that. I’m taking measures, in future, to avoid this particular result.  (Yes, I’m somewhat impervious to pain; otherwise I’d have noticed earlier.) People with longer arms, and more self-awareness, will undoubtedly avoid this particular hazard.

I was still a bit in shock when I picked up Basil — all the way over to the East Side I was thinking “Is he really here?” (Shell-shocked from September’s experience, no doubt!).  But when I arrived at NYCeWheels, the right-sized box materialized.

Alex unbundled Basil, and went over the fine points of folding, shifting, and so on. He was very thorough, and answered all my questions patiently . . . but when he turned Basil over to me, I was momentarily horrified.  “You’re going to trust me with this beautiful machine???” I thought.  A moment of panic ensued; I felt as if I’d been handed a newborn without a manual!

I took a deep breath, though, and determined to meet my responsibilities to the best of my ability. Because I was too chicken to ride my shiny new Brommie on New York streets, we walked over to Carl Schurz Park, and commenced immortalizing our first few moments together.

Here he is, as yet unridden (by me, at least), sitting on that wonderful rear rack.

I’d dropped everything to return to NYC suddenly once I knew Basil had arrived, and by the time all the formalities had been completed, it was rather late on an overcast day, so I settled for this shot, and just one more, from the front:

That’s my customized flap on Basil’s S-bag, finally on a Brompton, where it belongs.

After the photo op, we headed down the East Side Greenway, but only made it about three miles or so before the rain began. I’m sure a little water won’t bother me a bit once I’m used to the idea that Basil is really mine, but it was already late, and he was so shiny new, so we packed it in for the day.  I knew there would be many cycling trips in the days (and years) ahead.

I rode back to Carl Schurz Park, took the M79 bus across Central Park to the West Side, and the subway up to Washington Heights — for the very first time with my Brompton in tow!

It’s really stunning how well hauling around a Brompton works.  And I can now report that a 117-pound weakling with no upper body strength really can carry a fully-loaded M6R Brompton up four flights of stairs in a hundred-year-old Washington Heights building and survive.  Whoo-hoo!

(For those keeping track, I picked up Basil ten weeks, to the day, after he was ordered.)

Ten weeks to the day after I ordered my Brompton (and after some agonizing drama), I picked it up!  I’ve actually had him (yes, he has a gender; doesn’t yours?) one week ago, but Internet issues have made a mess of my web life, and this is the first chance I’ve had to post.

Here’s my Basil:

He’s an M6R, which means that he has the “M” handle bar configuration, six gears, and a rear rack — with Eazy Wheels.  (That’s the not-very-elegant, but extremely useful Brompton Basket on his handlebars.)

What can I say?  I’m in love!  I’m also far behind on posting . . . I’ll be catching up this weekend, after I’ve taken care of everything that’s been ignored during the connectivity crisis.  (And maybe get a few more rides in, too.)  Whoo-hoo!