Summer's End

I heard one of the local meteorologists remind us last week that with August's passing came the end of meteorological summer. I read an article on CNN a few days ago suggesting that this year's summer that wasn't was the result of a number of interconnected factors, among them cooler than typical temperatures, the state of the economy, and our having been bombarded with the deaths of a number of big names all within the space of a few weeks. Then there was my return to school for the 45th time in my 51 years - a sure herald of summer's demise. We might get a week or two of Indian Summer before jacket weather comes around for good, but it's Labor Day, and for all intents and purposes the summer of 2009 is over.

I commented today that by the callouses on my hands it seems like I didn't ride as much this year as I did last. That was confirmed when I was reminded that I caught hell a lot last year for spending as much as I had on gas. It seemed like I rode as much, especially in the spring when I took the bike out at every opportunity, but the evidence says I didn't. I know some of it was the fear that stuck with me long after I locked the front brake coming down an expressway ramp too fast and fell over unceremoniously. The rest, though? I'm not sure. I suppose part of it is simply being weary of riding the same roads all the time and not having enough of a desire to go farther just for the sake of doing it, and I'd guess that another part of the puzzle is not having had somebody behind me as much as I did last year. Riding solo seems a little sad at times. It's one of those things that's so much fun to do that it's best done when the thrill can be shared.

Still No Bike

The BV went back to the shop on Saturday morning and at best I hope it'll be done tomorrow with a definitive fix to the stalling that plagued me for the past week. I have two evening events at the school this week and I'd much prefer to take the cycle on which I can arrive at the last minute without having to worry about finding a parking space than to have to get there extra early in the car just to find somewhere to put it.

Ever have a memory of a place that seemed a lot richer than the reality? All summer I'd been meaning to get back to a spot about 30 miles out so I could get a picture of the BV in front of an old storefront that I'd remembered as looking as if it had served its last 7-UP right about when Jan Brady was the girl I wanted to marry. When I rolled past it on Sunday in the car, though, I was terribly disappointed. Not only was it on the wrong side of the road according to my memory, but it was much more covered over with greenery than to lend itself to a nice picture. I guess I'm glad I never made the trip back there on the bike to take the picture I'd hoped to get, but now I'm disappointed that I'll never get that shot as I saw it in my mind's eye.

And, by the way, after this year's cool summer I don't want to hear another tree hugger crying about global warming. Greenhouse gases? Bring on the baked beans! They'll be perfect for a picnic! Sigh... Next summer.