Category Archives: Bike Life

Winter Bike Break – Read and Listen

25 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by in Bike Life, Readin'

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

Of my identities, one of the most commented-upon is city cyclist. I’ve ridden through sun, snow, sleet, 5:30 AM sleepies, whatever. People call me hardcore but I’ve got limits to my desire and ability, though perhaps not what you’d expect (i.e. heavy traffic, extreme cold, the occasional near-monsoon.) It’s more like: I just haven’t been reading enough or, I fell in love with this new podcast. Or I’ve been overwhelmed, yet again, by this unshakable fanfiction habit.

There’s only so much time in a day, right? Work must happen. Laundry folded. Litter boxes cleaned. As well I’ve been experiencing low-grade hip ache (here’s looking at you Cambridge Dance Party; here’s looking at you, late 30s.) So came December 2015, Desmond Puddin’ went down for a bit of a break so I could spend my 45-min morning commute squished between puffy coats on the MBTA Orange Line, wrestling my earbuds into compliance or dragging out a paperback while eyeing just how many of my fellow travelers worship at the shrine of glass/plastic/metal (many!) or paper (more than you’d guess.)

What siren called me off my bike this winter? Thought you’d never ask.

Fav Podcasts/Winter 2016

Another Round – My number #1. Heben and Tracy soothe and validate my inner, lonely high school weird-girl. Real. Honest. With laughter that rivals the breathless contagion of Click & Clack, their energy and synergy are utterly unique. I’ve converted at least five people to this podcast, and counting . . .

Dear Sugar Radio – The Sugars open doors. Together, Cheryl and Steve are compassionate, thoughtful, clever and clear-eyed, often moving the conversation and their advice in a direction you wouldn’t expect. I listen almost as soon as episodes show up in my feed.

FanBros – As a kid, I sometimes watched a TV show simply to listen to the opening theme (yup, Disney’s Gummi Bears). FanBros begins each episode in an equally joyful and compelling fashion, but then I’m happy to experience the rest (unlike aforementioned cartoon). Comics I Copped is one of my favorite segments, and I’m always interested to hear what co-host Tatiana King-Jones brings to the table. Overall, I love the range of ‘black and brown’ voices. Yum.(Also, it’s my secret desire to one day attend a show DJ’ed by BenHaMeen in NYC.)

Black Girl Nerds – Jamie Broadnax keeps me connected to a wide, wide word of nerddom and geekdom (with a focus on the POC experience) that I’d otherwise completely miss.

Reading Lives – You know how magazines and websites feature interviews that ask public personalities about their favorite books? Reading Lives is better. There hasn’t been an episode in a bit, but I hope host Jeff O’Neal brings back this gem.

Popaganda – Feminism and pop culture. I’ve listened to some great essays and been exposed to voices and perspectives I’d otherwise miss via this Bitch Media podcast.

Note to Self – Newest on my podcast feed. First, can I say how much I enjoy Manoush Zomorodi’s speaking voice? I do. The show openly and throughly examines how we live with technology, how we want to. Great production sound.

Fav Reads/Winter 2016

Sidewalk Flowers by JonArno Lawson and Sydney Smith (illustrator) -appears to be a children’s picture book; is actually a meditation on the mindful life

Revolutionary Petunias by Alice Walker – oh, you know. Some verses from Queen Alice. My favorite poem from the collection: “For My Sister Molly Who in the Fifties”. Look it up

Ms. Marvel Vol. 1 & 2 – by G. Willow Wilson – I was surprised into loving this. Tell your daughters, your sisters, your mom! Also, jackalope

Between the World and Me by Ta’neshi Coats – finally made it through the kazillion holds on the audio book at my public library to listen to what everyone, (including an author I most admire), was talking about. Yup. It’s beautiful. It’s painful. It’s good

At My Back by SallyExactly on A03 – a new chapter prompted me to re-read the whole shebang, all 474,300+ words of some of the best, most context-filled, and comprehensive writing about archer-spy Clint Barton (Hawkeye) and spy-assassin Natasha Romanoff/Romonova (Black Widow.). This Avengers fic -breakneck, adventuresome, serious, humorous, artful- is one of the best I’ve read. Ever. This is what comics and superhero tales could be

 

 

 

Snapshots From My November Commute

25 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Bike Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

Late November is one of my favorite times to bike commute.

Long shadows across Olmstead Path

There’s something about starting out crisp; covered from head to toe in wool and sporty synthetics. Just one layer to start, before December and January demand more.

Bike & rider silhouette

Standing in the acorns

My favorite little urban woods between Jamaica Plain and Cambridge are similarly dressed for cool, but not yet snow or ice. Muddy River park

Reflection on underside of stone bridge Bright yellow tree in Brookline

And fellow commuters, they’re still out there. Not yet chased to public transit.

Cyclist on Hubway bike

Rocking that Hubway like a pro

Meeting A Goal You Didn’t Know You Had

04 Wednesday Nov 2015

Posted by in Bike Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Phoebe & mother on red cruiser bikes, Key West, FL

Mom & Me, Key West, Florida

As an adult, I have enjoyed bike rides with each person in my family-of-origin, independent of one another. This is not a goal I realized I had ’til it was accomplished.

I’m from a project-based family. We like to do things, collect experiences, learn, examine, uncover, understand. And we like bikes!

I remember being a little thing and my paternal grandfather’s adult-sized tricycle. The sound of bike tires bumping over a boardwalk’s wooden slats. Family mythology has it that same tricycle once ran over my mother’s foot, by accident.

I recall the thick, this-might-be-chemical-y-dangerous smell of grease and seeing bikes in bits in my back yard, old chains soaking in a pickle tub, waiting to be scrubbed silver.

Bike tour guide speaks with group

My brother & me on a Princeton, NJ bike tour

My Strawberry Shortcake Big Wheel; the red tricycle belonging to a neighborhood kid that we’d zip around on like it was a scooter ’til our backs ached; the pretty, blue Columbia that was stolen from my front porch, gone possibly a long time before I noticed. Barreling down broke-up concrete sidewalks from 8th Avenue to 7th, back around to 8th, no adult accompanying me because, as long I stuck to the sidewalk, no need. Learning that freedom can be bought at Toys-R-Us and sized up when my legs grew too long.

Place to place, and person to person. Child to sibling to parent.

On bike in Somerville, MA

Dad on Somerville Library Bike Tour

Bikes in Somerville Library parking lot

Fun in a Somerville lot with Dad and Dave

There’s nothing like that early love, or the connections it offers. The relationships it helps sustain.

Wooded road

Phoebe on a winding MA road

Whole Heart . . . Rage?

21 Wednesday Oct 2015

Posted by in Bike Life, What Is It

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

IMG_8294

Your laundry. It’s locked in the Laundromat and you can see it, unmoving, in a top dryer. The sign on the door reads that the ‘mat closes at 8 PM. It’s 7:45 PM and you need those pants for work tomorrow. Annoyed.

You step onto the bus and realize you don’t have enough on your ride card. Crap. You fumble to find actual cash while other riders queue up behind you. The bus driver exudes distrust while you struggle to add money to your card using the ridiculously complicated system. Finally, the driver says something impatient, and your eyes snap up. Aggravated.

You walk out of the building and

  • Your bike lights have been stolen. Again
  • Someone plundered the bungees and now there’s no way to keep your basket on the bike
  • Someone tried and failed to remove your front tire
  • Your basket was ‘mistaken’ for a trash receptacle
  • You bike isn’t where you (thought) you left it

Anger. Fear. Compounding, splitting like atoms.

IMG_8290

You’re eleven years old. You stand on a corner in your neighborhood, not doing much of anything. A car whizzes by and a young man leans out the window to holler the N word. Shocked, you pause in confusion, listening to the hysterical laugher recede as the car retreats. At first you think the slight will slide off; instead it permeates. There’s an almost audible click and you are rushed with random childhood injustices, more focused micro-aggressions against your color and gender, your own American slavery lineage, and the rush becomes a deluge, you’re experiencing not just your own but drawing from a ground spring, a geyser of . . .

Rage.

I remember September 11th. I worked at a dotcom and the news of the towers, fire, and terror spread slowly around my office. As the story evolved from accident to intention, no one could concentrate. TVs came on. My co-workers stared in horror and someone said, “I don’t understand how a person could do this.”

The desire to inflict deep, unassailable pain, the planning, the getting on those airplanes, the flying –I found none of that imaginable. Horrific. Repellent. But when I looked inside myself, I realized I understand how rage grows. How it collects, fuels, feeds. I watched the country take a deep dive into that rage, post 9/11. We flailed, grieved and struck out. I wanted to go back to that conversation with the co-worker and ask, haven’t you ever felt . . .

Rage?

You’re no longer you. A vessel. A conduit. You’re at service to however it manifests, whatever looks like. You’re the place where hurt and outrage and fear and grief swirl, twirl, bubble, punch, jerk, get good and mixed. Then you reach down and borrow from someone else, maybe many someones so together you can

Explode.

Scare the heck out of everybody. Including yourself. Hurt somebody. Maybe yourself.

From small slights to the catastrophic, it’s there. Rage is equal opportunity. It’s rarely right-sized. It’s patient. Will wait years for you to step unwittingly. You can try to press it down, rationalize it, breathe it away but sometimes it’s just like . . .

Boom.

In the next moment, your world is different.

IMG_8285

Lane Change

09 Monday Dec 2013

Posted by in Bike Life, Community

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

A criticism I’ve heard applied to sea-change efforts/programs, like Teach for America or the Peace Corps, is that the true aim is not to directly impact the people and places served, but to change the person doing the serving. To drive that individual to action beyond the current actions.

Snacks and tunes

In this sequence, it appears that the people and places that should be benefiting are instead being sacrificed for a mere idea of Greater Good; that far-off star we may never touch.

All those young people out there, sweating towards the unreachable.

And the struggle continues

I don’t share that bleak view. Important people in my life, some whom I haven’t yet met (I’m sure), are out there doing that work, systematically affecting change, though what change they may not know. And while they strive, I continue working at the micro-level: one Feminist Culture Club, one pie sorting, one bike ride at a time.

Lane Change is a new Boston-area group uniting cyclists of color. With a few rides under our belt in the warmer months of 2013, we’re looking forward to what 2014 brings. Perhaps not a sea-change, but ripples of fun, joy, and positivity.

Suiting up to ride

Lane Change group 2013

Boston Halloween Bike Ride 2013

01 Friday Nov 2013

Posted by in Bike Life, Boston Moments, Community

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

The bad news: Below is the only photo I have from the October 31st ride.

Going up hill on bike

The good news: It was our third year taking part in the ride and I was blown away. Hundreds of people turned out, so many I couldn’t keep up with the costumes. Unicorns and a school of sharks and elephants and a lightning bug and zombies and tigers and several boombox trailers blasting James Brown and Loki and lighthouses and a CFL lightbulb and police officers (not official) and bacon and snack cakes and a harem of zebras and Captain America and a bumblebee riding a lobster bike and . . . wow.

Our group meet up at Green Street MBTA station in Jamaica Plain and traveled into Boston proper, where we met the second group and lit up the streets around Mass. College of Art and the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum. Then through Fenway and over to Cambridge; Central Square, Harvard Square; ’round to Allston and through Brookline; back to JP. My favorite moment was riding through the Cambridge Street tunnel in Harvard Square, bikes-only, everyone hooping and hollering and shouting their hearts out in the cavernous, echo-y space.

Even if you don’t ride, you gotta see this thing and cheer us on. Next year, friends!

Two viking ships (on bike helmets)

Handcrafted by my partner, two viking ships off to sail the seas

The Well-Trained City Bike Commuter

21 Wednesday Aug 2013

Posted by in Bike Life

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, ,

IMG_3872

Riding in a city can be tricky stuff. First there’s the cars and how to behave around them. Then there’s the potholes and how not to tumble into them. Finally, and perhaps most challenging, your own naughty self to contend with.

Helmets. Bike lights. One-way streets. Stop signs. Night riding. Relating to fellow commuters who may or may not be running said stop signs as they shoot down one-way streets, sans helmet, in the middle of the night. It’s complicated.

Although I wore a helmet from the start, I admit it took me about two years to complete a contract with myself to stop at every red (it’s so easy to just fly through.) Stop signs are fuzzier: I slow significantly but rarely stop (unless it’s a four-way) because of the effort it takes to get started again from a dead halt. Several years and some nasty verbal clashes have convinced me to self-ban screaming at drivers who pull rude or unaware moves (like the dreaded right-hook.)

I do harbor a few guilty cheats. For one, my apartment sits at the bottom of a steep hill, so I ride the wrong way every evening to get home. My other guilty cheat, discovered when I observed another rider take the easy way into Brookline after crossing the BU Bridge and Commonwealth Ave., was recently resolved, much to my delight!

Do not enter sign

Cycle track in Brookline

A peaceful side-street ride just got more legit.

Whole Heart Washington DC

10 Wednesday Jul 2013

Posted by in Bike Life, Learnin'

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

,

This is what I looked like the first time I wandered Washington, DC as a tourist.

PhoebeinDC

With few visits in between, one where I marched in support of women’s reproductive rights, another devoted to the company of friends, I have had little opportunity to explore the city on my lonesome. DC’s charms have remained -for me- long forgotten, under-appreciated, or elusive.

Exhibit in the National Museum of the American Indian

Exhibit in the National Museum of the American Indian

I was fairly sure I didn’t much appreciate the culture of our nation’s capital.

Broken skateboard in DC

Say DC and I’ll free-associate: khaki, suit jackets, ladder climbing, poverty, gentrification, and blindingly white, granite-smooth buildings. Hot hot heat. Free museums.

Statues in American Indian museum

However, a whirl around the city astride a shiny Capital Bikeshare rental spun my opinion.

Obligatory White House photo

Obligatory White House photo

I had arrived in DC a day ahead of the conference I was to attend on behalf of my “place-based” community agency. Figured to take in a few museums, eat some local fare, visit with my partner’s cousin, and maybe locate an outdoor market. I accomplished some of those, but it was the bike ride that finally won me over.

Coasting down Pennsylvania Avenue in the impressive protected cycle track located smack in the middle of the street, I toured the neighborhoods.

Pennsylvania cycle track

Today, you say DC, I free-associate: charmingly colorful row houses with all manor of quirky embellishments, the sky a blush pink and cottony blue, mural of some of the U.S’s most popular brown faces –Bill Cosby and Barack Obama.

Tower against the blue sky

Sunset beginnings

Dramatic sunset, DC

So . . . this is what I looked like on the most recent occurrence of my wandering DC as a tourist. Notice any differences? :^)

Pho in DC 2013

Sweet Ride Cambridge 2013

04 Tuesday Jun 2013

Posted by in Bike Life, Community

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Officially, I gave up my candy habit some time around 2005. Shocking then, right, that I somehow found myself sucking down conversation hearts while listening to a talk on Cambridge’s sugary legacy -that of flat, candy wafers that spark in the dark, figgy cookies, and mints that come in papa, mama, and junior? (Actually, not that shocking . . . )

Mayor Davis helps to kick things off at the start of the Sweet Ride

Cambridge Mayor Henrietta Davis helps to kick things off at the Sweet Ride (photo courtesy Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

Between the riding, listening, and somewhat guilt-free gobbling of complimentary goodies provided by our hosts, I may not have found opportunity to snap photos even if I had bought along my reliable (and admittedly clunky) Canon. Glad I’m not the only person sweet on fond remembrance.

Ride-specific Sweetheart

Cambridge Bikes is a Sweetheart (courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

The photos featured here are borrowed courtesy of the fine planners/bike enthusiasts at Cambridge Bicycle Committee.

In addition to being so kind as to let me partake of their photos, I enjoyed that this well-organized tour of Cambridge was split into “sweet” and “savory” with brief, interesting lectures at several resting points.

Two young men on trick bikes

Sweet or savory, bikes in all flavors (photo courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)

Two men with three bowties

These gents could be on the bow tie ride (photo courtesy of Cambridge Bicycle Committee)