Another Rodent

I don’t know what the story is with me and the creatures, but I hit a squirrel this morning (in case I don’t have the opportunity to post this online until tomorrow, today is Sunday) while cruising down Henry Street on the way to a ride in Prospect Park.

A few weeks ago, I hit a rat in the park and today, a squirrel. What’s next? A raccoon? A possum, maybe? God forbid I hit anything that large and no doubt I’ll take a quick trip over the handlebars. Like the rat, though, I didn’t hit the squirrel head-on. Instead, I think I nipped his tail. I definitely hit some part of the rodent considering the bike shook as if I hit a pothole, but the little bastard kept on a-runnin’ after the impact, so I would have to imagine I ran over some inconsequential piece of its anatomy.

One might think that NYC animals would have better street smarts. After all, we’re talking about creatures born and raised in and around the five boroughs. Even those animals that grow up in one of the city’s many parks must be subjected to pedestrians, cyclists, and motorists on a daily basis, so my point is, what don’t these freaking animals understand? What part of “look both ways before you cross” don’t they get? The squirrel I hit this morning, he scurried out into the middle of the road, decided to pause once he saw me coming along the right side of the road at 16 mph, and then jumped in front of my wheel as if I had all the time in the world to stop.

I mean, just how dumb can a squirrel be? What ever happened to survival of the fittest? With brains like that, the damn squirrel deserves to get hit!

Regardless, I made it to the park a few minutes later and only put in an hour and fifteen minutes rather than the scheduled two hours. After yesterday, my legs weren’t really up to another two-hour ride, and besides, the saddle was killing my butt. Two days ago, I had the bright idea to switch the plush saddle I had been riding on the past several months with the pain-in-the-you-know-what saddle that came with the bike when I bought it back in July. Why would such a brilliant idea occur to me? Figured my backside would be ready for a stiffer seat by now, although apparently not.

Speaking of yesterday, I had a great ride with a great bunch of people out in Staten Island. At 8:30 in the chilly A.M., a glorious mass of cyclists formed in the parking lot outside New Dorp High School. The previous evening, I had placed a call to Dr. Rob and asked if he’d be riding this weekend. This is the same Dr. Rob who all but crucified me in New Jersey two weeks prior in the hills around Cheesequake and Sandy Hook. He quickly informed me he would be unavailable the following morning, although that I might benefit from joining a group ride that followed the perimeter of the island for roughly fifty miles.

As usual, I made an attempt to persuade Mr. Picco to join the road ride, although Mr. Picco has a serious aversion to (a) riding a bicycle in cold weather, and (b) road riding regardless of the weather as well as the beautiful Independent Fabrication bicycle he keeps housed in his basement (where it collects dust). I tried one last time to get the guy out of his house via text message forty minutes before the ride was scheduled to begin: Come on, Picco. 40 mins.

Needless to say, it didn’t happen. Mr. Picco likes road cycling on cold days as much as a meter maid likes a diet--some things just ain’t gonna happen.

At eight o’clock outside the school, I introduced myself to Mr. Ed Dalton. While speaking with Dr. Rob Friday night, he had explained, “Look for a guy with a beard. His name’s Ed Dalton. I’ll give him a ring and tell him you’re going to be there if you want to join.”

In forty degree weather, I then proceeded to gear up: tights, form-fitting undershirt, long-sleeve jersey, cycling shorts, wool socks, neoprene booties, bright yellow wind-resistant jacket, skull cap, helmet, and gloves. What I’m sitting here trying to tell you is that it was freaking FREEZING out there yesterday morning. At least it felt freezing standing around in a pair of tights (again, articles of clothing I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in public without a bicycle).

By eight-thirty, at least twenty cyclists had arrived and I began thinking to myself, Geez. If this turns out anything like that last training ride in New Jersey, I’m going to get royally spanked yet again. I thought this as I spotted two familiar faces in the crowd: Joe, the sixty-eight-year-old guy who completely blew me away in the Jersey hills with Dr. Rob, and Anne, a young lady who did the exact same thing as Joe had done in the same hills. Eyeing the crowd, I thought, This is going to be one very embarrassing morning.

Eventually, the ride started off to an easy pace as all rides do (and should) and headed down to Fr. Capadanno Boulevard (if I’ve misspelled Capadanno, I guess that’s something with which we’re just going to have to live, aren’t we?). As we approached Sand Lane, I pulled up next to Joe to say hello when I noticed everyone making a right turn into the roundabout. Holding up my arm to signal to the one person behind me that I’d be making a right as well, Joe said, “Just go straight.” Considering almost everyone had made the right into the roundabout, the group of riders who had continued along the boulevard had seriously dwindled to a select few.

“Where is everyone else going?” I asked Ed.

“They ride at a different pace,” he explained as we started the short climb toward McClean Avenue.

Overall, the ride did indeed take us around the perimeter of the island at a comfortable pace with a few bursts along the way where the speed picked up to an average of 20-23 mph--something to get the heart rate up and going--something to make you sweat. The few hills we encountered along the 46-mile ride were nothing humongous, nothing that made you want to turn around and call it a day. They were there, of course (the hills are always there, aren’t they?), and they weren’t easy, but I’ll venture to say they were manageable.

I met some nice people yesterday morning, but then again, I always seem to meet nice people on the bike. It’s a pleasure to find yourself surrounded by people with the same interest. I’m looking forward to next week’s ride.