Way back in the day when I was working, I would dream about riding my bike to the office. The problem was that the office was 40 miles from home. I wished I worked closer so I could ride. I became jealous reading about bike commuters. One day I read about a guy who would drive to within a few miles of work and bike the rest of the way. Duhhh. How many times have we overlooked the obvious until we hear someone say it out loud. I spent a few days driving around, mapping different routes and places to leave my car.
When it was time for the first commute, I parked at a high school six miles from the office. I also spent a sleepless night worrying about my first bike commute. I did that for a couple of days and was thinking about parking ten miles away. Still I kept thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Again, captain obvious slapped me across the back of the head when on the internet at work, a writer who was experiencing the same qualms said, “why was I worrying myself crazy? It’s just a bike ride”. Duhhhh From then on, my commute, no matter the distance or routes I chose, was just a bike ride.
When the gas prices got very high, I started taking the bus to the commuter lot, 11 miles from my office. One entry is HERE, when I was The Fairhaven Roadie online. That blog name only lasted a year when I realized I wasn’t a roadie, I was a commuter and needed a new name for my blog. I am a member of the New England Revolution supporters group, The Midnight Riders. I am not “the midnight rider.” I am “a midnight rider.” One of many.
I had to leave home by 5:10 am every morning to ride the four miles to the terminal and catch the 5:30 bus to Taunton, Ma. The bus to take me back home wouldn’t get to the mall till after 6 PM getting me home around 7 PM. Needless to say, it was a very long day away from home.
I have written extensively about the bike path I use every day but never that early in the morning. My fist time I was amazed at how loud nature can be when all the birds and animals begin their day. It’s crazy loud and the traffic in the sky and along the ground was nuts. It’s just another one of those wonderful things we miss when we spend our lives in our cars.
Last night on my ride home the birds reminded me of those days way back when.
It was blustery, chilly and kind of dreary. Then I got on my bike and all that stuff faded away. I also changed the theme which is why this blog looks different. (Says Captain Obvious). I took a lot of photos but only kept a few. For instance:
Over the weekend the Fairhaven and Wareham Militia encamped at Fort Phoenix for a demonstration of life of Americans defending New England during the time of the Revolution.
On May 13-14, 1775, the first naval battle of the American Revolution took place off our shore when the local militia, under the command of Nathaniel Pope and Daniel Egery, captured two British sloops in Buzzard’s Bay.
Shortly afterward, the town petitioned for the construction of a fort at Nolscot Point for the protection of the harbor. The original fort was built by Capt. Benjamin Dillingham and Eleazer Hathaway between 1775 and 1777. It was outfitted with eleven cannon, several of which had been captured in the Bahamas by John Paul Jones.
Portraying colonial men, women, and children, the members of the Fairhaven Village Militia talk to visitors about the history of the fort and about life during the Revolutionary War period. Flintlock musket firing demonstrations are given at times when the militia is on duty.
“West Island is named for one of it’s early owners, a man named West. The island juts out into Buzzard’s Bay, and is connected to Sconticut Neck by a causeway. Most of the island is owned by the state and is kept as a wildlife preserve. The town owns acres of beach-land, the Fairhaven Town Beach. This is one of the nicest beaches on Buzzard’s Bay, with over a mile of beach, and waters warmed by the shallow Buzzard’s Bay. It is also an ideal location to watch the sailboats that revel in the famous Buzzard’s Bay breeze.” Dana Morris.
Rode for a couple of hours around the island hanging out and taking pictures.
Years ago with the FBC that had chapters in a few cities across the country. Like HERE, HERE and HERE. We did a full moon fiasco every month. Maybe, this is the return of that monthy fun event. Just maybe.
Meet at the Dell’s Lemonade stand in Warren, RI at 6PM for a 6:15 start. We will ride to Colt State Park to watch the sun set with the Fall River bike group. A night ride will follow and will pass the meeting spot for those who don’t want to continue. Others will ride to East Providence and up the Washington Bridge before returning to Warren.
There is an arrowed bike route that is a good mix of suburban and rural riding. I don’t do the whole route and track my mileage with my Garmin Tour GPS unit. I had been riding for around 45 minutes when I looked at the display and it read 2 miles. I had forgotten to press start so the device only recorded my MPH. Those lost miles were the bane of this ride. Every once in a while during the ride, those miles haunted me.
I decide that when I get home, I’ll use my car to record the miles that I lost and upload them to Strava where I’m recording my stats. Then I thought that the average speed would be out of whack for me. Then I thought that I would just drive slow. Right, that would go over with the drivers behind me on this endeavor. Then I though, who cares. So I didn’t go. I did however, shoot some video between the hauntings.
The storm passed, the sun began making it’s way through the clouds and the sky began to turn blue. It was 3:30 in the afternoon and it was time for a bike ride. The road bike got a tune up from Scottee’s Bike Shop in Westport. It was my second visit and I couldn’t be more impressed with the quality of workmanship, the friendliness of the wrenches and the reasonable prices.
Most of the regular road bike riders were done for the day. There was one unusual group that I ran into yesterday and today they passed me just at the right time. A couple more roadies on this route but basically it was me,some horses and a fruit stand.