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adventures / cycling / New Jersey / photo / Tuesday — Comments Off
14
Nov 23

A lot of keyboard time today

I spent a lot of time staring at the computer screen today. It was productive, right up until the point when things got blurry. That’s a mental distinction, not a visual one. I just keep typing when that happens, hoping it still makes sense after that and wonder why it happens more quickly these days than it did, once upon a time.

I assume this is a conditioning issue, or a problem with the spatial mechanics of my desk and chair. Maybe it could be that I sit in a westerly direction. Could be the altitude. Maybe the water or the air. Definitely has nothing to do with age.

Some of today’s typing had to do with Thursday’s classes. So I have some time to circle back and check that work, at least.

It could also be the changing of the clocks. I am still having a difficult time adjusting to two aspects of it this year. First, the time of day when a bright sunny day turns to the early silver gray before twilight and just how rapidly night comes on here. It’s fast.

I did get out for a bike ride this evening. I set off at 4:37. I bumped into a neighbor, who is also a cyclist. He was walking his dog, Prudence, so we chatted for a moment, before he cautioned me that I wouldn’t have much time. But I have a light, and lots of sun and I was just going to ride around here, I said.

I set off on one of the regular routes, heading the opposite direction. I pulled the pin 22 minutes and five miles and change in. I should turn left, to follow the regular route, which would give me a 21-mile circuit. But I turned right, realizing the hour — it being all of 4:59 at that point, and the light was fading fast. Two miles and seven minutes on that road before I take another right. And then, a half-mile later, one more right. Now I’m back on the road that leads to our subdivision. I’ve been out 32 minutes and gone just over seven miles. It’s now 5:09 and it seems like a good idea to just keep it within the neighborhood.

So I spent the next 50 minutes in a two-mile stretch, covering three neighborhoods, back and forth, back and forth, to get an additional 12 miles and change, and almost all of that in the dark.

When I got into our neighborhood, I met my lovely bride, who had returned from campus and was taking a walk. She saw me first, of course. Guy on bike, bright-as-the-sun headlight. I rode the circle and saw her one more time.

All of this was very slow — ’tis the season — but I did enjoy one 18 mile per hour split, very early, and did set a PR on one Strava segment. Barely had a chill, until right near the end. Funny how that happens.

Here are a few more photos from our Sunday afternoon trip to Cape May this past weekend. I’m stretching these out to cover the week.

We’d just turned away from one marshy inlet or pond — all of this being in the area of some brackish water that looks distinctively different and yet the same — where we’d watched ducks look for a late lunch and swans judge everyone. That was our first of two such observation points where we could spy on the waterfowl, but as the trail looped us back into the woods, the sun was dancing perfectly on the leaves.

It isn’t a hike, I don’t think, when the trails are so well maintained as all of this, but it was a splendid place to be. And, if you’ll notice at the top of this photo, the implication is that part of the trail is not only tree-lined, but offers a canopy.

I like pictures like that for some reason. They’re a dime a dozen, but I don’t care. It isn’t a metaphor, but there’s just something about not knowing what’s next that makes it an intriguing visual. I stopped my lovely bride from walking into the shot, but before she figured out what I was doing, she stopped to pose for a picture or two. This one is one of my favorites from that little sequence.

Still smiles like a little kid. I have digital scans of all of her childhood slides to prove it.

More from the beach tomorrow, including some actual clues we were at a beach! And, also, we’ll see more of the local historical markers in another installment of We Learn Wednesday. Do make sure you stop back by to check it out.

adventures / Covid-19 / cycling / Monday / New Jersey / photo — Comments Off
13
Nov 23

A visit to the coast, and some other stuff, too

Late Friday night, and this really sets quite the tone for the weekend, I straightened up the laundry room. I did it because ~~it needed to be done~~ I am an impulsive party animal. Also, I was standing right there. It’s easy, rearranging cabinets, but what really sparked the exercise was I needed to reorganize the Covid cabinet. There are masks and tests and various other supplies. Somehow they all got jumbled. But you want to stack them up with respect to expiration dates. It’s a detail that appeals to me, for some reason.

Then there were some shoes to move. And a cubbyhole to straighten up. And, because the laundry room is between the garage and the rest of the house, there’s always something that is intended to go from one or the other, so I moved those things.

Then I remembered that we put up the birthday light in the laundry room, so I took a photo.

I got this for my lovely bride several years ago. It was also in the laundry room of our first house. But, in our second, everything was recessed lighting, so the fixture stayed in a box. But now it can glow again.

On Saturday, I set a new personal best for consecutive days riding the bike. It’s not a big number, but it is for me. And, after nine days in a row my legs are tired. But the weather was … mild. I overdressed, and then took off some layers. For about half an hour, and then I had to put my layers back on.

It was a day for an easy ride, and so I took one of our basic routes and rode part of it in reverse. At the bottom end of the route there is a place to turn right, but I turned left and headed into the next town. It’s the county seat. It’s careworn. And, for me, close by were a handful of historical markers. So I pedaled by and added those to the queue for the next few weeks.

On the way back, I passed this house. It is quite difficult, even at a bike’s pace, to see the shot, dig my phone out of my jacket pocket — a different pocket angle than my warm weather kit — and then get the camera app open through full-fingered gloves.

It would have been better if I could have done all of that about six seconds sooner, but I’m happy with the shot.

You’ll be happy with these shots, because they make up the most popular part of the week here on this humble little blog. It’s time to check in with the kitties.

No one has told Phoebe yet that she’ll be evicted from her favorite mid-afternoon nap spot next week. No one has mentioned Thanksgiving, and the meals we’ll eat on this table.

We haven’t told her because she’ll be intent on trying to get on the table during dinner.

Poseidon needs your attention. He needs your attention. He desperately needs your attention.

If you look closely you’ll see to scratches on his nose. He spends too much time harassing his sister. Occasionally, she runs out of patience with him and he’ll catch a swat or two right on the schnoz. He never learns from this lesson.

Other than that, though, the cats are doing well, thanks for asking.

Yesterday, we took an afternoon trip to the beach — Cape May, specifically. This little town has been a resort destination since … colonial days.

The Cape May lighthouse was built in 1859, automated in 1946 and remains in service today. It is the third lighthouse on the point. The first two locations are now underwater. If you want to go to the top you’ll have to climb 217 steps. The view might be worth it. They say you can see 10 miles away on a clear day, like this one.

We didn’t take the lighthouse challenge, but instead enjoyed the state park’s many walking trails. Some of it was on the ground, some on these well maintained boardwalks over some swampy, sandy soil.

We picked, perhaps, the best weekend for it. Bright sun, cool air and beautiful colors everywhere.

You’ll see more from the cape tomorrow. I’m spreading out the photos to cover a busy week. The busy starts today, with this evening’s class and a bunch of other work besides.

cycling / Friday / photo — Comments Off
10
Nov 23

8! (Eight!)

The weather is changing. The sun is glowing, but diminished. The winds, coming from all directions, feel just a little bit bitter. The days are shorter. The nights are still growing longer. But the weather is variable just now. The forecasts show the 40s one day, the 60s the next day. We’re in that moment where a sunny 50 feels nice, but an overcast 50 feels intolerable.

Pretty soon I’ll have to rotate over to indoor hobbies.

Good thing I have a lot of things on the indoor hobby Want To Do list.

Today, like many days, the list was mostly focused on school work. Part of that time was involved with grading midterms. My class did well, I’m happy to say. Either they are brilliant students or I should make harder exams. Maybe I’m a good instructor. Probably the former.

But, it occurs to me, there’s a way I can frame this in class that allows them to make the distinction themselves. And there’s a way I can frame it that they feel inclined to say it’s me.

It’s not, of course.

I was very pleased with this, though. I asked them to list something we’ve discussed in class that they feel needs further clarification. That got me a few interesting replies, which should give us something to start our conversation on Monday.

After the day’s school work was done, it was time to hit the bike. It was time to layer up and hit the bike. I had on the usual bib shorts, of course. Over those I wore my one pair of Pearl Izumi long pants. Those things are so great. Fleece lined. Warm and windproof. They’re season extenders.

I also had on my cycling jersey, a lightweight pullover, which I probably should have left at home, and a windbreaker. I had gloves on my hands and wool socks on my feet.

On my socks I went old school: bread bags to keep out the wind. Turns out that actually works. It was about 70 minutes, just before I got there, and not too far from the end of my ride, before my feet felt any chill.

They’re colder sitting in my office, right now, than they were on the bike. In wool socks. And bread bags.

It was a regular route ride, one I timed well with the day’s fading light. That part was fortunate, considering I’m riding a bit slow right now, and with good reason! Today’s ride equaled my personal best in terms of longest consecutive days riding. That mark, be it ever so humble, was one I set in 2016. I’m only seven years older (and slower!) now. So my legs are tired. I’ll take a day off soon.

When I got in, it was just starting to turn chilly, owing to the disappearing sun. I checked the weather.

Sometimes the apps are misleading.

cycling / photo / Rowan / Thursday — Comments Off
9
Nov 23

I’m pining for the moon

Oh I had the best of intentions of what to do with my morning. Get up! Do some work! Get in a quick bike ride! Iron clothes for class. Leave by 11:30! But you know what they say about the best of intentions … they are so often impacted by what you do the night before.

What I did the night before was to sit at my computer until quite early this morning — but still not so ridiculous as has been my habit of late — and then sleep in a bit.

Just about one of my least favorite things to do is go to bed and then stare at the ceiling. So I will roll over and then stare at the wall. But that’s not very exciting either, so back to the ceiling. It’s all so very productive. Not that I am a peak exemplar of constant productivity, mind you, far from it. But I am never more aware of that I am not doing anything until I am doing the least of it. So I go to bed when I am finally dragging around, nodding off, and so on. Which means I watch a lot of movies on Hulu, or edit a lot of photos late at night, or both. And so there I was, last night, this morning, crawling into bed well after midnight. But you know what? I fell right to sleep.

So, this morning, I did a little work, but not as much as I would have liked. Well, there’s always tomorrow morning. I did not get in a bike ride. I did iron clothes. And we left for campus on time. So what, I ask you, really suffered? Aside from my circadian rhythm, I mean.

In my classes today we went into the television studio. (Boy, where have I heard that before?) I am teaching two intro to production classes this term and today was the day that several of them were looking forward to, a few were dreading and three or four could treat it like another day in the big tall room with the glowing lights, and the smaller room with glowing lights and buttons.

The assignment was this: they had to shoot a breaking news segment, something that has already been produced by the talented people within the college. It’s a three-camera, two anchor shoot. The story is scientists have uncovered a egg at the nearby dinosaur park and, apparently, its recovery has re-started the millions-year-old gestation process.

The story itself is silly, of course. And whoever recorded the package did it in a voice that was aimed at humor and plausible deniability. He hit most of the puns and used some great B-roll. There’s even a quote from an archeologist, Dr. Amber Stone. Best I can tell, this is a fake person. Great name for that field though, right?

The segment starts with bars and tone, a slate, the opening graphic and a shot of both anchors at the desk. Each anchor has single shots and script to read. And then one anchor pitches to this package, which is nicely done and funny the first two three times you hear it. After 769 seconds of dinosaurs and absolutely no Jeff Goldblum, the shot comes back to the studio where one of our anchors returns you to regular programming, terrified that we may soon be stomped on by a giant monster from another time.

And while five or six students are doing things in the studio, the rest are working in the control, making sure all of that happens. It’s an easy enough segment, but if you’ve never done anything like this before, there is a lot going on. The production itself has been streamlined and, really, only the student who is working as the director is sweating real bullets.

Between the two classes we ran that exercise maybe 12 or 13 times. Someone did their read in a fake Southern accent. I’m not sure if that was aimed at me or not, but it sounded western Kentucky and I’m not from there, so I did not take offense.

Overall, it was fun, it was scary. It was full of mistakes, and then it got better. Then we made more mistakes. It’s a hands on exercise and it accomplished its goals. And, as I so often find myself saying, “We’re all here to learn.” I’ve been in that particular control room twice now, counting today, and today was the first time I walked into that studio. I learned a lot, too.

It was dark by the time I was done. Dark and in the 60s. So when we got back home I took off the coat and tie and put on some bike kit and set out. I rode several loops around our neighborhood, and four or five around the next one up the hill, and got in 12 miles, enough to make it feel real.

Here’s my view.

Tomorrow I’ll tie my personal best for consecutive days of riding. That streak, be it ever so surprisingly humble, couldn’t end on a technicality of class and darkness. Fortunately, I have that One80 light. I shot that on a dark road in the next neighborhood. Houses everywhere, no street lights. It’s dark. And I was doing about 17 miles per hour there, having just recorded a demo video of the light for a friend.

A little bit later I was on a road in the back part of our neighborhood, a road I’ve been on twice, I think, and it has a little downhill. I was freewheeling down that at 24 miles per hour, and happy with the light’s throw. I don’t think I would try to do much beyond that, for fear of outrunning the light, but I’m not sprinting much in the darkness and I’m otherwise only doing that kind of speed downhill. I wish it cast a bit more light to the sides for a clearer look at any critters that might be tempted to run in front of you, but that’s my only complaint about the thing.

I won’t go all over the place in the dark, like I would in the daytime. It makes me want to come up with reasons to have to ride into town in the evening, just for the experience. Night riding For some neighborhood riding, this light works great. I said, over dinner, I just need one or two more little side road neighborhoods nearby that I could mix in for variety …

She pulled up another one that I hadn’t considered, hadn’t even noticed, really. Altogether and if I did it right, I could get about 8 miles out of these quiet little subdivisions. I’ll have to check out that new road tomorrow, so I can add it into a future night ride.

cycling / history / photo / We Learn Wednesdays / Wednesday — Comments Off
8
Nov 23

Found it, and other stuff

We found my lens cap. “We” is the right word. There was a search party. The search party was comprised of myself and, most importantly, my lovely bride. She was the one that found the lens cap I lost yesterday. It was under the sweetgum tree, just as I expected.

She wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t dropped it there yesterday.

One day she’ll notice I’m manufacturing reasons to get outside to enjoy this beautiful weather before it changes this weekend.

In the afternoon, she found a reason of her own. We, of course, went on a bike ride. She’s wearing long sleeves, but that might have been an overdressing. I had a jacket rolled up on my back pocket, but never felt the need to put it on.

We passed a few combines today. Everyone is cleaning up the last of their fields. All the good stuff will be going in bins, like this, or out into other fields, for feed.

The part that doesn’t wind up in the road, that is. I took this photo and then spent the next minute or so weaving around chunks of cob that had been blown into the street. You never think about that unless the operator is right there in the field as you go by. It wouldn’t much matter in the car, but my bike tires are just 25 m. Even the humble stripped corn cob could be dangerous.

Anyway, we got in almost 22 miles in the sunshine, some of it on new-to-us roads. Here we are near the end of the route, going through two corn fields that haven’t yet been chopped down.

I don’t know why YouTube does that in their compression algorithm. Being the biggest company in the game and using a lossy format just feels cheap at this point.

Let’s go back out into the yard, since I had to look for that lens cap, anyway. We’ve got a small Southern magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora) to enjoy off to the side. It seems a little out of place this far north, but there are some cultivars that are hearty enough for the weather.

Magnolia cultivars can be rather famous, for whatever reason, and I’d like to know the story behind this one, but it’s just one more thing we’ll never know.

Speaking of that sweetgum and its ankle aggravators, its tenderfoot terrorizers, its shoe stickers …

This is, I believe, a black cherry (Prunus serotina) tree. The previous owners promised one, but we found no fruit this year. But, if I have this right, we might have a good crop one of these days.

Here’s the maple. Acer platanoides, I think, maybe. I’m saying, until an expert corrects me, that this is the Crimson King cultivar. The front yard star has shed most of its leaves. And what remains have turned yellow and red. I was not expecting that.

And some of the leaves on that same tree turned green, which was quite the surprise.

Oh, and I found another pear tree. Which sounds like I’ve just discovered it. It’s in a obvious place and though I have enjoyed its leaves and removed weeds from beneath it, I’ve never bother to actually, ya know, consider what this big shade giver is. But it’s a pear.

Too far away from the pear tree in the backyard for the two to work together to bear fruit, unfortunately. I’ll just have to get my pears the old fashioned way — by hiring a neighborhood kid to go into a neighbor’s yard under cover of darkness.

This is the 15th installment of We Learn Wednesdays. I’ve been riding my bike across the county looking at all of the local historical markers. I have written here about 32 of the 115 markers found in the Historical Marker Database. Cycling my way around to find them is the preferred way of doing it because that pace lets you see and learn new things. Today’s entry in We Learn Wednesdays is a good example. I would have missed this little spot if I was driving, and though it isn’t on the database, it is worth a mention.

I found it by riding out to the markers I’ll show you next week. And, at just the right time, I glanced to my left, and the sun was shining on this plaque perfectly. Maybe it was the shine that made me look. I circled back and walked up for a quick look.

Frank H. Stewart was a successful and controversial early 20th century businessman. He made his money selling electrical goods. He bought the U.S. mint building in Philadelphia, razed it, and then he wrote a book about it.

He was also a man of history, a collector of artifacts and source material. And a conservationist. He helped preserve a Revolutionary War era fort, had his company develop new tech to find cannonballs underwater (metal detectors!) and his will plays an important part in the creation of all of the parks and many of the public lands in the next county over.

This little park is just that. A happy little playground with slides, swings, a zip line and climbing arches. They’ve got picnic tables and a pavilion. It all exists because of that one man.

His papers — thousands of books, untold manuscripts, artifacts, wills, deeds, family genealogical lines, maps and more —
are kept at Rowan, some of it is his own extensive Revolutionary War research. I wonder what we might discover in there.

In next week’s installment of We Learn Wednesday, we’ll go back to the 1930s. If you’ve missed any markers so far, you can find them all right here.