”The bicycle, the bicycle surely, should always be the vehicle of novelists and poets.”
I feel lazy today. I haven’t yet gotten dressed. I made the coffee, read the paper, talked to my sister in Colorado, had another cup of coffee and finally got down to writing. That brings me to now.
Today is uninviting, a bleak day with a grey sky threatening rain. It is in the low 70’s, but a strong breeze makes it feel colder. My house is dark. I’ve left the lights off. It is also quiet, almost as if no one lives here. The dogs are napping, Henry upstairs and Nala beside me on the couch. My mood is somber, reflecting the day.
When I was a kid, I always went to mass. I feared mortal sin. I didn’t want my soul to look like the black milk bottle in my catechism. My church clothes, not to be confused with my school clothes or my play clothes, were always the same, a dress or skirt, good shoes and a hat. I carried my missal. It gave me something to read. Back then, the mass was in Latin with Latin responses. The priest faced the altar and had his back to us. I always felt a bit detached.
When I was out on my bike, my mother never knew where I was. Even if she had asked, I could never had told her where I’d be. I usually didn’t know myself. I had many different routes. I remember riding by the golf course and looking for and finding balls in the gutters and on the lawns of houses across the street. Two different directions led to other towns, one had the lake while the other had the trains. I could ride to the zoo. I’d put my bike in the bike stand and check out all the cages. Back then, the zoo had an elephant and a kiddy zoo where the animals were in scenes from nursery rhymes like the clock in Hickory Dickory Dock, the old lady’s shoe and Humpty Dumpty on his wall. At the end of the zoo were picnic tables. If I had brought my lunch, I’d sit there.
I’d check out Spot Pond. It is by the zoo. It was a reservoir which meant no trespassing at all. I always imagined a Huck Finn raft with me sneaking to the island with food and shelter and hiding there to camp. The water always looked so inviting. Now, you can fish for bass and bluegill and rent boats like canoes and kayaks, but you still can’t swim there.
My bike took me everywhere, even once to East Boston to visit my grandparents. My bike made my world so much bigger. I was an explorer.
Explore posts in the same categories: MusingsTags: biking, travel, \exploring
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July 27, 2025 at 7:02 pm
Hi Kat,
Although the temperature has been in the high 90s, we haven’t seen 100° yet. Our average first triple digit day is normally July first.
When I was a kid in Dallas, my bicycle was my magic carpet that not only allowed me to widen my travel horizon and to get to and from school.
When I moved to New York City, I had public transportation. In those days a student public transit pass was my passport to the entire city. In those days, the fare on the city’s subways and busses was only fifteen cents.
July 27, 2025 at 10:51 pm
Hi Bob,
You’ve had me worried. You just sort of up and disappeared. I wrote a couple of e-mails, but maybe you didn’t get them. Good to have you back!
We have had a few days in the 80’s. It mostly it has been in the 70’s. We’ve even had a few July nights down to the 50’s. The prediction for later this week is the 8p’s will be back. What I haven’t seen is rain. Today it rained maybe 3 minutes.
I think my bike was the best Christmas present I ever got.
I could catch a bus to Sullivan Square. Upstairs were the buses while downstairs had the subway. From there we’d get into Boston. I think it was only a dime when I first started riding it. We also would catch a bus to Arlington, a couple of towns over, and from there we’d take the bus into Harvard Square. Back in those days it was the most amazing place. Now most of the stores there can be found anywhere. We used to go to the Orson Wells theater and just wander. I miss those days.
July 27, 2025 at 11:56 pm
Hi Kat,
I don’t know what happened, but I just decided to take a break because I had nothing positive to think or say about the state of our country. Our founding fathers must be spinning in their graves.
I’m still working full time. Why would I want to retire when I get to work from home a few days a week and I’m finally being paid what I’m worth. After moving three miles from the office, they finally let me teach from my home office. We actually have remote classes.
July 28, 2025 at 12:43 am
I’m just glad you are okay. I’m happy work has done right by you. I know how you never want to retire.
Like you, I am heartbroken at what has happened to our country, but I find there is hope. People are angry and are fighting back the best they can. I have to hope change will come.