Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Wouter Weylandt
As a fan of professional cycling, I would like to add my condolences to all those mourning the tragic death of Belgian cyclist Wouter Weylandt, who crashed on Stage 3 of the Giro d'Italia. Such a sad day in the cycling world.
Two Shipyards, One Ride
I generally begin each bike ride with a good idea of my route. Part of this is for practical purposes ... avoiding traffic, figuring out where to ride within a limited amount of time, etc.
But riding familiar roads also gives me the great feeling of being a local cycling expert. It's as much sailing as cycling, following the currents of the local terrain like an old Gloucester fisherman on native waters. There's something reassuring about being so in touch with your surroundings.
Once in a while though you simply have to satisfy your inner Lewis and Clark and start exploring. So last Saturday I hit the road at 5:30 a.m. and headed east, along the southern rim of Boston Harbor, with no plan or destination in mind.
The nice thing about cycling is you don't have to ride into unknown territory to feel like you're making new discoveries. Roads you've already driven by car seem fresh and new on a bicycle.
Riding out on Washington Street, the temporary drawbridge across the Fore River Inlet loomed large up ahead...
Rather than cross it (it's hazardous for cyclists), I turned right into the Fore River Shipyard. Active from 1901-1986, workers here built submarines, battleships, aircraft carriers, and other large ships, including the USS Salem, which now rests in one of the shipyard's old slips. Volunteer guides give visitors a great tour of this historic navy vessel.
Next door is the ferry to downtown Boston.
But unfortunately that's all that's left of this once mighty shipyard, other than abandoned buildings (note the broken window)...
...and wide spaces of industrial nothingness.
Looking through those broken windows at the old office furniture inside, you can just imagine engineers hovering over blueprints of massive ships, and secretaries noisily banging away at their typewriters, transcribing their shorthand notes. There was a certain artistry to work back then.
Riding out from the Fore River Shipyard, I followed quiet side streets in an easterly direction, passing through a nice neighborhood of little Cape Cod style houses in Braintree.
Without even trying, I eventually found myself in Hingham, Mass. Hingham is a beautiful seaside town, and home to the famous Hingham Shipyard.
The Hingham Shipyard is faring better these days than its Fore River cousin. Although no longer an active shipyard, it's now the home of a nicely-designed shopping center, a modern ferry terminal, a marina, condominiums...
...and a lobster shack.
Next door is a memorial to the shipyard's remarkable history.
But best of all, walking my bike down the nearby path...
...led me to an amazing spot.
It doesn't look like much now, but what you're seeing are the old launching sites from the World War II-era shipyard (look close and you can still see ruins of the wooden pilings on the beach).
All's eerily quiet now...
...but just imagine what this place was like 60 years ago, as each new ship was launched into the deep-water harbor with cheers and fanfare. Over 15,000 people worked here, building 227 ships in the 3.5 years that the yard operated during World War II. Incredible.
Riding back home, I didn't have much time to reflect on those two great shipyards. Even while retracing the same roads, there were still so many little things that caught my attention. What's wonderful about cycling though, is that those reflections come later, all throughout the day, as images and thoughts from the ride rise to the surface.
That afternoon I would be quietly reading a book on the subway -- but in my mind I was still standing on that windy pier in Hingham, imagining those magnificent ships launching into the sea.
But riding familiar roads also gives me the great feeling of being a local cycling expert. It's as much sailing as cycling, following the currents of the local terrain like an old Gloucester fisherman on native waters. There's something reassuring about being so in touch with your surroundings.
Once in a while though you simply have to satisfy your inner Lewis and Clark and start exploring. So last Saturday I hit the road at 5:30 a.m. and headed east, along the southern rim of Boston Harbor, with no plan or destination in mind.
The nice thing about cycling is you don't have to ride into unknown territory to feel like you're making new discoveries. Roads you've already driven by car seem fresh and new on a bicycle.
Riding out on Washington Street, the temporary drawbridge across the Fore River Inlet loomed large up ahead...
Rather than cross it (it's hazardous for cyclists), I turned right into the Fore River Shipyard. Active from 1901-1986, workers here built submarines, battleships, aircraft carriers, and other large ships, including the USS Salem, which now rests in one of the shipyard's old slips. Volunteer guides give visitors a great tour of this historic navy vessel.
Next door is the ferry to downtown Boston.
But unfortunately that's all that's left of this once mighty shipyard, other than abandoned buildings (note the broken window)...
...and wide spaces of industrial nothingness.
Looking through those broken windows at the old office furniture inside, you can just imagine engineers hovering over blueprints of massive ships, and secretaries noisily banging away at their typewriters, transcribing their shorthand notes. There was a certain artistry to work back then.
Riding out from the Fore River Shipyard, I followed quiet side streets in an easterly direction, passing through a nice neighborhood of little Cape Cod style houses in Braintree.
Without even trying, I eventually found myself in Hingham, Mass. Hingham is a beautiful seaside town, and home to the famous Hingham Shipyard.
The Hingham Shipyard is faring better these days than its Fore River cousin. Although no longer an active shipyard, it's now the home of a nicely-designed shopping center, a modern ferry terminal, a marina, condominiums...
...and a lobster shack.
Next door is a memorial to the shipyard's remarkable history.
But best of all, walking my bike down the nearby path...
...led me to an amazing spot.
It doesn't look like much now, but what you're seeing are the old launching sites from the World War II-era shipyard (look close and you can still see ruins of the wooden pilings on the beach).
All's eerily quiet now...
...but just imagine what this place was like 60 years ago, as each new ship was launched into the deep-water harbor with cheers and fanfare. Over 15,000 people worked here, building 227 ships in the 3.5 years that the yard operated during World War II. Incredible.
Riding back home, I didn't have much time to reflect on those two great shipyards. Even while retracing the same roads, there were still so many little things that caught my attention. What's wonderful about cycling though, is that those reflections come later, all throughout the day, as images and thoughts from the ride rise to the surface.
That afternoon I would be quietly reading a book on the subway -- but in my mind I was still standing on that windy pier in Hingham, imagining those magnificent ships launching into the sea.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Springtime on the Harbor
Spring is slowly coming back to life here on Boston's South Shore. Each day more and more boats return to the marina I pass by on my regular riding route.
Some boats still sit around the parking lot though, patiently waiting for their turn to set sail.
My "regular riding route" is actually rarely that regular. There are many little detours I like to add along the way. For instance, on a late-day ride last Thursday, I turned down a steep hill to take some photos at this lovely Boston Harbor cove:
It's a little tough to see in the following photo, but that tiny white speck in the center is Boston Light, the oldest lighthouse in America:
Every night the rays from Boston Light shine all around the harbor, reflecting up off the water into the evening sky. It's a beautiful sight.
Some boats still sit around the parking lot though, patiently waiting for their turn to set sail.
My "regular riding route" is actually rarely that regular. There are many little detours I like to add along the way. For instance, on a late-day ride last Thursday, I turned down a steep hill to take some photos at this lovely Boston Harbor cove:
It's a little tough to see in the following photo, but that tiny white speck in the center is Boston Light, the oldest lighthouse in America:
Every night the rays from Boston Light shine all around the harbor, reflecting up off the water into the evening sky. It's a beautiful sight.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Misty Morning Ride
Sunny days are overrated.
If you're a cyclist in New England, then you know it's those cool, misty mornings that are often the most beautiful.
On one such morning last week, I decided to explore the two "necks" of Quincy, Massachusetts: Squantum and Hough's Neck. They jut out into the southern portion of Boston Harbor, creating Quincy Bay and a long stretch of beach in between.
Riding out to Squantum, the streets were still wet from the rain that fell the previous day...
But this morning there were just cloudy skies, a nice backdrop to the flowering trees on top of Squantum's hilly terrain.
Riding away from Squantum, I turned onto beautiful Quincy Shore Drive...
...and looked back onto the Squantum peninsula, where I had just ridden.
After some thrilling moments zipping along the shore, I took a left turn, rode a few more miles, and was soon pedaling on Hough's Neck...
At the very end of Hough's Neck sits Nut Island. It's not really an island, just a little bump of land connected to the neck itself. It was once the site of an artillery testing facility; the base of one of its big guns is still plainly visible on the center-left of this photo.
All around are views of the southern part of Boston Harbor, which this morning was eerily calm.
My favorite part of Hough's Neck is at the very tip of Nut Island, where a lonely pier juts out into the morning mist...
Sometimes it's lined with people hovering over their fishing lines and rods. But this morning it was quiet and mysterious.
Walking my bike out on the pier, it's easy to imagine this as some dark Cold War-era spy rendezvous site....
It really gets your imagination going!
Riding back, along the other side of Hough's Neck...
...and back onto Quincy Shore Drive...
...it wasn't long before the sun was shining through clear blue skies.
Returning home a short time later after this 30 mile ride, I cleaned my bike, watched some of the morning news shows, and then switched on the Weather Channel. By that time it was noon, 75 degrees and sunny ... the warmest it had been all year.
But personally, I'm happy I got to experience that special cool morning, in the mist, on a bicycle.
If you're a cyclist in New England, then you know it's those cool, misty mornings that are often the most beautiful.
On one such morning last week, I decided to explore the two "necks" of Quincy, Massachusetts: Squantum and Hough's Neck. They jut out into the southern portion of Boston Harbor, creating Quincy Bay and a long stretch of beach in between.
Riding out to Squantum, the streets were still wet from the rain that fell the previous day...
But this morning there were just cloudy skies, a nice backdrop to the flowering trees on top of Squantum's hilly terrain.
Riding away from Squantum, I turned onto beautiful Quincy Shore Drive...
...and looked back onto the Squantum peninsula, where I had just ridden.
After some thrilling moments zipping along the shore, I took a left turn, rode a few more miles, and was soon pedaling on Hough's Neck...
At the very end of Hough's Neck sits Nut Island. It's not really an island, just a little bump of land connected to the neck itself. It was once the site of an artillery testing facility; the base of one of its big guns is still plainly visible on the center-left of this photo.
All around are views of the southern part of Boston Harbor, which this morning was eerily calm.
My favorite part of Hough's Neck is at the very tip of Nut Island, where a lonely pier juts out into the morning mist...
Sometimes it's lined with people hovering over their fishing lines and rods. But this morning it was quiet and mysterious.
Walking my bike out on the pier, it's easy to imagine this as some dark Cold War-era spy rendezvous site....
It really gets your imagination going!
Riding back, along the other side of Hough's Neck...
...and back onto Quincy Shore Drive...
...it wasn't long before the sun was shining through clear blue skies.
Returning home a short time later after this 30 mile ride, I cleaned my bike, watched some of the morning news shows, and then switched on the Weather Channel. By that time it was noon, 75 degrees and sunny ... the warmest it had been all year.
But personally, I'm happy I got to experience that special cool morning, in the mist, on a bicycle.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
First Ride of the Season
I'm back!
I had originally planned to put photo of a "Closed for the Winter" sign on a December post -- like one of those signs you'll so often see hanging on the doors of Cape Cod art galleries and ice cream shops. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Along with the snow, ice, and frigid temperatures that make up a typical New England winter, so too is there always this sense that maybe ... just maybe ... a rare morning will come along when the sun shines bright and the temperatures are just warm enough to squeeze in a bike ride.
I guess didn't have the heart to officially close the blog down for a few months.
And so today that long-awaited morning finally arrived. It was 58 degrees and partly cloudy ... perfect conditions for the first ride of the season.
As you can see, there weren't many boats in the marina...
They were all still lined up on pilings nearby...
But despite the potholes and puddles made from the the 75 inches of snow that fell here this year (the last remnants of which you can still see)...
...it was a great ride. Thrilling, really. About halfway through, the ocean crosswinds really started to howl. It was difficult to ride into, but wonderful -- which is what serious cycling is all about, seeing the beauty in the very things that make your morning ride so challenging.
But that was only the beginning of this magical day! Just a few hours later the European cycling season began, with Versus channel broadcasting Stage 1 of Paris-Nice. It was as if there was some sort of eerie concurrence going on, because the determining factor in that very exciting first stage of Paris-Nice was .... crosswinds!
It really was a beautiful stage, and it definitely had the feel of a early-season race. Despite the green fields surrounding the roads, all the trees were still leafless and grey, making the colors of the peloton look even more vivid ... the subject of a very fast watercolor I did after the race:
It's good to be back.
I had originally planned to put photo of a "Closed for the Winter" sign on a December post -- like one of those signs you'll so often see hanging on the doors of Cape Cod art galleries and ice cream shops. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. Along with the snow, ice, and frigid temperatures that make up a typical New England winter, so too is there always this sense that maybe ... just maybe ... a rare morning will come along when the sun shines bright and the temperatures are just warm enough to squeeze in a bike ride.
I guess didn't have the heart to officially close the blog down for a few months.
And so today that long-awaited morning finally arrived. It was 58 degrees and partly cloudy ... perfect conditions for the first ride of the season.
As you can see, there weren't many boats in the marina...
They were all still lined up on pilings nearby...
But despite the potholes and puddles made from the the 75 inches of snow that fell here this year (the last remnants of which you can still see)...
...it was a great ride. Thrilling, really. About halfway through, the ocean crosswinds really started to howl. It was difficult to ride into, but wonderful -- which is what serious cycling is all about, seeing the beauty in the very things that make your morning ride so challenging.
But that was only the beginning of this magical day! Just a few hours later the European cycling season began, with Versus channel broadcasting Stage 1 of Paris-Nice. It was as if there was some sort of eerie concurrence going on, because the determining factor in that very exciting first stage of Paris-Nice was .... crosswinds!
It really was a beautiful stage, and it definitely had the feel of a early-season race. Despite the green fields surrounding the roads, all the trees were still leafless and grey, making the colors of the peloton look even more vivid ... the subject of a very fast watercolor I did after the race:
It's good to be back.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Late Fall Rides
Fall sure is a beautiful time in New England.
I took those photos on a ride a couple weekends ago, when the leaves were just beyond their peak.
But fall is always a bittersweet season in New England, because just as the leaves grow more colorful, the days also get shorter, the shadows longer, cold morning winds stir up whitecaps on the bay...
...and the cycling season moves closer and closer to its end. All of which make those late fall rides even more special. Everyday things are framed in a whole new light, like this bus stop that sits just a short distance from the shore:
Although it's part of the massive Boston transportation system, that bench seemed to me to be such a peaceful outpost as I rode past it. Those are the wonderful little things you notice from a bicycle.
By the time I headed out for a morning ride last Sunday though, most of the leaves had fallen...
...and it was a very blustery 39 degrees. Time to break out the cold-weather cycling gear. Wearing an insulated jersey, leggings, and jacket, I felt fairly comfortable out on the road ... all except for my feet, which were freezing beneath my cycling shoes. So that afternoon I took the train to my LBS (cyclist-speak for "local bike shop"), and bought these...
Aren't they cool? Made in Italy by Castelli ... the legendary cycling-clothes company ... they're a nice little throwback to the great Italian cycling culture. Look at many Tour de France teams, and you'll often see Castelli's iconic scorpion logo on their shorts and jerseys.
And as the darkest winter months approach, it's also time to collect more reading material for those long weeks off the bike. I started by buying this book and magazine, both of which are wonderful...
It's one of the great things about being a cyclist ... the beauty of our sport inspires so many writers and photographers, that when your cycling season comes to an end there are more than enough storytellers around to keep your cycling-dreams alive over the winter. Happy reading!
I took those photos on a ride a couple weekends ago, when the leaves were just beyond their peak.
But fall is always a bittersweet season in New England, because just as the leaves grow more colorful, the days also get shorter, the shadows longer, cold morning winds stir up whitecaps on the bay...
...and the cycling season moves closer and closer to its end. All of which make those late fall rides even more special. Everyday things are framed in a whole new light, like this bus stop that sits just a short distance from the shore:
Although it's part of the massive Boston transportation system, that bench seemed to me to be such a peaceful outpost as I rode past it. Those are the wonderful little things you notice from a bicycle.
By the time I headed out for a morning ride last Sunday though, most of the leaves had fallen...
...and it was a very blustery 39 degrees. Time to break out the cold-weather cycling gear. Wearing an insulated jersey, leggings, and jacket, I felt fairly comfortable out on the road ... all except for my feet, which were freezing beneath my cycling shoes. So that afternoon I took the train to my LBS (cyclist-speak for "local bike shop"), and bought these...
Aren't they cool? Made in Italy by Castelli ... the legendary cycling-clothes company ... they're a nice little throwback to the great Italian cycling culture. Look at many Tour de France teams, and you'll often see Castelli's iconic scorpion logo on their shorts and jerseys.
And as the darkest winter months approach, it's also time to collect more reading material for those long weeks off the bike. I started by buying this book and magazine, both of which are wonderful...
It's one of the great things about being a cyclist ... the beauty of our sport inspires so many writers and photographers, that when your cycling season comes to an end there are more than enough storytellers around to keep your cycling-dreams alive over the winter. Happy reading!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Two New Magazines
I was browsing around Barnes & Noble a few days ago, and I came across these two cycling magazines:
Not only are they great magazines, but they're brand new! Each one is a premiere issue. They both seem to take an artistic, passionate approach to cycling journalism -- just my kind of writing and photography.
So pick them up at your local bookstore, and enjoy!
Not only are they great magazines, but they're brand new! Each one is a premiere issue. They both seem to take an artistic, passionate approach to cycling journalism -- just my kind of writing and photography.
So pick them up at your local bookstore, and enjoy!
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