While I ride for transportation on the streets of Cambridge, Somerville, Boston and beyond on a (mostly) daily basis, it is of course physically impossible to photograph myself doing so. But recently the Co-Habitant was with me, and he surprised me by taking some snapshots with his mobile phone. I wanted to share these, because they happen to be of my favourite cycling route.
We cannot always articulate what we like or don't like about cycling in our city. But taking our favourite route as a starting point and examining what is so great about it, can lead us to discover our preferences - as well as our anxieties - when it comes to transportation cycling.
The pictures here document a busy street around the corner from my home that stretches through several neighborhoods along the border of Somerville and Cambridge, winds into MIT territory, and then proceeds directly over the
Longfellow Bridgeacross the
Charles River, into the center of Boston. It is not a traffic-calmed side-street, but a crowded major road, and it is not especially attractive. And yet, it is my favourite cycling route in the area. It goes on forever, gives me easy access to Boston, and does not make me deal with ambiguous traffic situations.
When cycling in the city, I think it is ambiguity that causes me the most anxiety: left turns from side streets onto busy roads; bicycle lanes that suddenly end; commuter trails that force the cyclist to cross busy intersections without streetlights; roundabouts and stop signs where questions arise about the right of way and I never know whether the car is
really letting me go... I could go on. But on this route, none of those things happen. I am basically cycling down an endless avenue, andas long as I abide by street lights, the road will take me where I need to go. This not only eliminates ambiguities, but appeals to my love of the "endless open road." I like knowing that I can get on this road around the corner from my house and end up in downtown Boston, stress-free.
You have probably noticed that this route has a bike lane most of the way. But that is not what I like about it - at least not the lane alone. Unlike most streets with bike lanes in my area, thisone is consistent and logical. At no point does it suddenly end in a dangerous spot, and at no point does it place you in the door zone of parked cars. It even takes you through a curve in the road with a left-turn lane specifically for bikes. The bike lane here functions as a bike lane should in my view - a suggestive marking, similar to a bus lane, that signifies a space on the road where bicycles have priority over motor vehicles. It goes without saying that you must still be vigilant of things like occasional double-parked vehicles, and vehicles making right turns at intersections. But overall, the lane - and specifically its consistency - has the effect of legitimising the presence of bicycle traffic. There are quite a few bicycles passing through, and it is just another lane of traffic. Normal. I do not always feel this way about bike lanes, but on this particular route it seems to me that they really do have this positive effect.
When a cycling route feels comfortable and convenient... well, that is pretty much how it ought to be. Cycling for transportation in the city should not feel as if you are going into battle every day; it should feel like the city you live in is open and accessible to you. This is my favourite route, because it does just that.
The house that Grandma (Hazlette Brubaker Phend Dunn) had built in 1950.
Building Supplies and Plumbing.
Plaster and Electricity.
Flooring and Cost of House ($5,250.86)
1951 – Me and my brothers.
1955 – Grandma with her grandchildren. That's me, reaching toward my sister, probably to pull her thumb out of her mouth!
The show went well, and was the same neat things as the other times I've been here.
At some point, it became very interesting to me though because I saw something different. When Aric and I were here, they told us that they were bringing out a new stallion. They weren't sure how he'd do. He did great. Today was his second time. He's the middle horse in this group and you can see the look on his face that tells us he is feeling feisty already:
This is where he lets us know he is going to implement that plan:
And this is where he does it:
This is where that plan gets nipped in the bud:
And this is where he pouts about it. He wasn't happy about being reigned back in. He wanted to show us his stuff. He didn't want to simply perform the show that mere humans came up with. They stopped the show to explain what the deal was. They explained that it was his second time out with the big boys. They said he was the teenager in the bunch. That explains this expression:
I had no idea horses could make that face. I'm on teenager number five. I recognize this face all too well!
It's not all that amusing when my teens give me that look, but I have to tell you that it was hysterical when he did it. I feel for his mother is all I have to say. I have loved every trip to this wonderful place, but this was the best by far.
In the newspapers, NPS officials predict road openings as late as Christmas, but cautiously hope it will happen sooner. At this time, it's difficult to tell just how long it will take to get things ready. Another complication is the ongoing Paradise construction project. The contractors had planned to work continuously this Fall and this isn't helping. In the meantime, I'm cheering for the road, electric and water treatment crews who are hustling to get things reopened.
Here are a few extra images that I didn't weave into the blog earlier. To the left is the only road into the Kautz Helibase. This one may not be so easy to repair, because some of the creeks have changed their course and now flow down road corridors. 
As for creeks that change their courses, the main one of concern so far is Kautz Creek. It jumped its main channel about a mile above the road, and now runs through the forest as seen in this aerial photo. Note the dry creek bed where it once flowed. You can also see the younger forest as compared to the older growth.
Walking into an outdoor clothing and gear retailer today, we invariably see an expanse of merchandise that is stylised to portray outdoor pursuits as highly technical activities. Fabrics of unnatural textures emitting an otherworldly sheen, colour schemes that don't exist in nature, motifs based on jarring geometric forms, aggressive logo placements - the overall feel is decidedly inorganic. And perhaps that is the key to why I find the aesthetics of today's outdoor industry so disturbing: How can clothing and gear designed for an intimate relationship with our natural surroundings be made in a way that is so at odds with them?