Showing posts with label bicycle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bicycle. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

bittersweet

My fridge is full of farm--broccoli rabe, rhubarb, whole chicken, ground beef, green eggs, cheese......

My fridge is full of farm, and it's bittersweet.

I stood at the CSA pickup today, and part of me was so happy to be in a relationship with local farmers again.



But then I stood there looking at the honey and the maple syrup, and it wasn't Rachel's honey and syrup. And I walked along choosing veggies that weren't Dale's veggies. And there were no flowers.

And I closed my eyes and saw Dale's smile on the back of my eyelids, and now I am sitting at the keyboard with tears spilling over.

I love my current life in the city. I love the fact that Elder, Younger, and I each rode our bicycles from different parts of town to meet at the CSA pickup after school today and then rode home together. I love that we also could have done this by bus or on foot.

I love the compactness of my current life.

Standing there in relationship with new farmers today, though, I realized that I have walked away from being enmeshed in agriculture, from being in relationship with farmers, twice now. Both times moving toward a more urban life. Both times moving to this metro area, actually.

My fridge is full of farm, and I am so sad-glad about it.

Maybe this will be the time that I learn to be both a city mouse and a country mouse at the same time.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

awry

Last night I checked the forecast and saw that this morning was going to be excellent weather for cycling: 48 F by 8 A.M. and rising into the sixties with sunny blue skies. I texted my cycling pals that we should play hooky, and Chris agreed.


Chris and I rolled out of the driveway about 8:45, heading for the new portions of the Anacostia Riverwalk Trail on the far, east/south, side of the river.



It never ceases to amaze me that these monuments are part of my regular life. This bit of trail on the east side of the 14th St. bridge over the Potomac connects us to so many destinations.

The Anacostia Riverwalk Trail is beautiful, but not very photogenic at the moment, with wide smooth asphalt running along the river through floodplain parkland most of the way. The riverbanks were in that awkward stage when everything is starting to develop the green haze of spring, but it hasn't yet managed to cover the curmudgeonly grunge of winter. The Kenilworth tidal estuary marsh smelled like it was just starting to think about developing a funk.

We were a bit pressed for time today, and the Anacostia Riverwalk Trail extends deep into Maryland, so we set a time to turn around hoping that it would allow us to cross the DC-MD border.

My only picture from the trail is this one of Chris checking to see if we had reached Maryland when the marks on the trail changed from yellow to orange. We had indeed! Just under two hours and just over fourteen miles from home. 

The ride back felt like the landmarks were coming more quickly. (Why is that always true?) There was an intense and persistent headwind, though. 

And then.

Climbing up the second most awful bridge crossing in DC, all of a sudden my handlebars were not square with my front wheel. Since I was practically crawling up the incline, I was able to get my feet on the ground before I fell over. I reoriented the handlebars and started walking the bike. Chris had the tool we needed to tighten the handlebars, but not in a shape that we could use on this bike.

Meanwhile, I realized that the strap on my shoe had also broken, perhaps while being yanked out of the pedal clips, and every step made the shoe flop off my right foot. We didn't manage to improvise a solution to the handlebars, but I did have a velcro arm/ankle reflector band that was happily repurposed into a shoe-keeper-onner.

Having ridden only twenty-one of the twenty-eight miles of this route, I parted ways with Chris to metro home.


What started out as a grand and spontaneous adventure had gone awry.

This was my first time riding the metro with my bicycle and I learned that my bike and I can fit in a metro elevator with a full-sized motorized scooter, it's occupant, and one other passenger and also that I can carry my bike down a flight of stairs by hoisting the crossbar of the frame onto my hip. Less fortuitously, I learned that up-going escalators will further twist already misaligned front wheels and handle bars. That got interesting fast.

My bike and I rode the bus--using the bus-front bike rack was another first for us--straight to our neighborhood bike shop where a plain, old 6mm alan wrench solved the problem. Such a simple solution. The 6mm alan wrench from the set in my toolbox will be moving to my bike bag forthwith.

It wasn't really a big problem in the grand scheme of bicycles. It wasn't a punctured tire or a broken spoke. Nothing weird happened to the chain or the sprockets. But a slightly loose joint made my bike a dead weight instead of a powerful tool.

All in all, I suppose a disabled bicycle was easier to deal with than a disabled car would have been, I could still make it go where I wanted it to go, and I could lift and carry it when necessary. No tow truck required.



I'm glad to have made this ride to Maryland and halfway back and glad to have learned to use public transportation with my bike. I'm really sad the about the shoes. They were the best shoes, and I knew they were on their way out, but this forces the issue.

Biggest regret, though? I didn't have any knitting for the transit rides.

Friday, November 6, 2015

deliciousness in dough

So there we were, Chris and I, drinking beer on a Sunday evening, as happens not infrequently, and we started talking about how delicious food is.

Especially how delicious food is when wrapped in dough.

Especially how American cuisine does not have enough savory deliciousness wrapped in dough.

Especially how much we envy other cuisines their dough-wrapped deliciousness: Salvadoran pupusas, Bolivian salteñas, Mexican empanadas, Russian pirožki, Chinese dumplings, Indian samosas, Italian stromboli, Korean mandu, French crêpes.

So we hatched a plan to ride our bikes from one local ethnic restaurant to another sampling all the deliciousness wrapped in dough.

At its grandest, the plan has included a dozen restaurants and as many miles, but we're running out of biking weather and free weekends, so when the meteorologists told us today promised record-breaking high temps, we decided to do what we could in an evening: three South American restaurants outbound along Columbia Pike and two Asian restaurants inbound toward home.

And it was delicious.

I think the pupusas from Abi Azteca were the oddest. They looked like pita on the plate, but were more like thin pancakes (but not crêpes) with beans and cheese or pork and cheese contained by the sealed edges. The cabbage garnish was quite delicious.


The sulteñas from Pan American Bakery are a strong contender for my favorite. We got one with chicken and one with beef.


I brought one home for Anna. 

All in all, it was a delightful evening of cycling, fellowship, and deliciousness wrapped in dough. There are more picture in Chris's version of the story: "3.5 hours, 4 bellies, 5 restaurants, 2 bikes, and a whole lot of deliciousness wrapped in dough."

What better way to spend this day, the warmth of which we won't see again until after winter?



I'm looking forward to our northward swing on a tour of European restaurants when next the weather cooperates.