My Daily Ride

Martha has a wonderful blog. It is called Living Among Tourists. I highly recommend it. Recently, she made a challenge.  She challenged us to photograph our usual ride, "the one that most illustrates the path most taken-the drudge, the glory, whatever it is that you see all the time on your way to work or play."

It seems apparent from reading and looking at the postings of others who have taken up the challenge, I originally misread the assignment. I thought she was asking for one picture that somehow summed up my daily commute. After all, in her post proposing the challenge she only had one photo.

As I had first read the challenge, it proposed a daunting task. How could one view sum up my daily commute? There is so much. Could I really refine my daily ride down to its essence? I decided to try.

There are the tree lined residential streets I ride down.

There are the shells of homes once glorious.

There are the marvelous planned green spaces, and...

There are the not planned green spaces I've heard called "urban prairie", where housing stock has been torn down leaving a forlorn emptiness.

I ride by strip malls and empty storefronts.

I even spend some time on a remnant of the "Mother Road", Route 66.

But, if I had to choose one photo to sum up my commute it would be of a group of trees I ride by in Tower Grove Park.

These trees are twisted and bent. They have been broken, but still stand. Their beauty isn't in their perfection, but in their simply being there.

By the way, my most direct route contains twenty-four stop signs and twenty-three stoplights, but seldom do I take the most direct route. Most days there are more. My chosen route is not a hurry up and get there sort of affair.

Nearly everyday I notice something I've not seen before. Each and every day I ride I am grateful to be able to simply be there...here and now.

Early Dismissal

Sometimes before a three day weekend the Court declares an early dismissal. Today was such a day. It allowed me to take the long way home.

It was a typical here and there urban ride.

Lots of side streets and parks.

It was an easy ride. Traffic was light. Everyone behaved. It was simply delicious.

The morning ride? It, too, was good, but it definitely had a different flavor. I wrote about it over in my other blog: Did He Ride Today?.

Whether you are facing a three day weekend or a regular same old, same old weekend, I hope it turns out to be a special one for you.

I'll Be Keeping Watch

The "For Sale" signs are up.

The transformation nearly complete . . .

It has changed quite a bit since I first started watching it . . .

 To take a ride down memory lane click here

While the property at the corner of Lafayette and Compton is getting a new chance, this property still looks much the same . . .

I did meet the guy who rents the property next door . . .

I asked him about the property. I found out the person he rents from doesn't own the building that is falling down. It seems the City had taken over the property and was going to tear the building down when the new budget year began. If so, then I suspect there will be some action soon. Then I asked him why he continued to live there. Was it because he had a lease? Nope. The reason turned out to be very simple. He just really likes his landlord. And, since the City inspectors have told him that the townhouse he lives in is still sound, he and his family are staying put.

And, I'll be keeping watch as I ride to and from work each day

It Was A Delight To Meet Both Her And Her Work At the Same Time

It has been hot and humid in St. Louis for what seems forever. But once upon a time it was cold here. Now people complain about the heat. Then they complained about the cold and the lingering ice. In that time of cold and ice on my dark winter night commutes home I would often see lights in a building at the corner of Shenandoah and Compton. It was both comforting and heart warming to know an artist was at work as I worked my way home. Each time I passed I would wonder about who this artist was and about her work. I knew her name was Carol Carter, the building had given me that much. I realized only after I met her that I could have "googled" her name, but I didn't think of it at the time.

Recently, as I rode Billie, me wee chariot, toward home in the long light and heat of a July day I noticed a poster in the window of the studio where I had seen those lights last winter. It announced an Open House on Saturday July 30th from10am to 4pm. I made a commitment to myself to be there.

It was raining as Heather and I made our way to the Open House. The rain was nice enough to let up as we arrived.

I like this building. I think the balloons wilted in the humidity.

We opened the door and walked into a studio both sparse and filled with color. The woman we would soon learn was Carol welcomed us even as she spoke with others already there. We wandered around, and on what I suspect was an inspiration wall I found a very good omen.

Yep, a flamingo.

When we did get to talk with Carol I told her I rode by her studio on my daily commute to work. I told her of seeing her in the studio during the winter as I rode home. I, also, mentioned to her I had a blog and was interested in learning more about her. She went over to a box and looked for something to give me. She handed me a magazine. It was the December 2009 issue of American Artist. She had it open to an article written by Stephen Doherty about a series of portraits she had done of her son as he grew from two weeks after his birth to young adulthood.

People were coming and going. The Studio had a wonderful feel to it. 

Heather took this picture of Carol.

On Carol's blog under the heading Things You Need To Know is this statement: "Painting my whole life--watercolor especially...." From being in her space I sense this is certainly true.

As I watched Carol being a gracious host to strangers and welcoming dear friends, I knew I was having an experience that I'm doubtful would have happened if not for my commuting to work by small motorcycle rather than car. Billie by her nature keeps me off the expressways, places me in neighborhoods, and demands my attentiveness. I by my nature find myself increasingly caring about these neighborhoods and meeting more and more of the folk that give these places life.

I loved Carol's use of color to open up the familiar and make it fresh. I'm very glad she has a  website, but I'm glad I didn't think to search it out before. It was a delight to meet both her and her work at the same time. That said, I hope you take a look. It's really good stuff.

His Garden

There are two intersections on my evening commute that are just too exciting for my taste. In the morning they are fine, but after work the traffic is heavier and this can create situations I'd rather avoid. So, now I have a new route home.

My new route led to the discovery of a house with a yard that is nearly all vegetable garden. It was obvious this was the home of a serious gardener. I had an uncle who was such a gardener. He was always out in his garden doing something. On Grant's trail I inline skate by a couple of gardens that remind me of his, but the garden I now pass on my commute home has a different feel to it. I think it has to do with it literally saturating the lot the house is on. It is a marvelously intense garden.

I kept hoping to get some photos of the garden before it had grown to the point where it would be difficult to get anything other than the vines growing up the fence, but either the weather kept promising rain and my camera isn't waterproof or I'd just forget to take the camera with me. I, also, really felt I wanted to ask the owner's permission before I took any photos.

Finally, one day I noticed a man weeding the garden. I stopped. He was delighted that I was delighted in his garden. Somehow it came up that I worked at the Courthouse Downtown. He asked me if that was where he would come to take the oath. It took me a moment to figure out that he was talking about becoming a citizen. He is originally from the Philippines, but was going to become an American citizen in just a couple of days. I told him that would be the Federal Courthouse, the one with the green dome. I work in the State Courthouse. We chatted for a while and as I prepared to leave he told me to feel free to stop and take as many pictures as I wished anytime I wished.

Last Wednesday I was able to stop by and not only take some pictures but congratulate my new gardening friend on becoming a new citizen. I was going to take some pictures from the outside, but he would have none of that. No, I had to come in a take lots of pictures of his garden. So, I did. He made me promise to come back when he was harvesting the fruits of his labors. I told him that I would. I suspect I will from time to time post photos of his garden. I'm looking forward to paying attention to how his garden grows.

Billie, my SYM Symba, waiting patiently as my new gardener friend shows me his garden.

Trying to keep the varmints out.

Maybe a fake snake will deter some critters.

And, as I took pictures he went back to work.

Once again, I'm grateful for another gift my commuting to work on the Symba has given me.

The Return Of The King

I've taken to calling him "The King". I've wrote about him before. I wrote about his going missing last Fall when the mornings turned colder. I Wonder After Him 

But, now it is Spring and the King has returned. 

Recently, the King made a rare afternoon appearance. I spotted him on my way home from work and saw it as an opportunity to meet the King.

His throne is  the top of the stairs  leading to a townhouse much like this one.

I was nervous. He is a imposing figure. There seems to be a permanent scowl on his face. And, although I have passed by him many times, and, even though I have begun to nod my head toward him every time I pass, still I have never seen the expression on his face change. It is always the same.

I made a U-turn and pulled up in front of his house. For a moment I wondered to myself, "What the hell are you doing," but I ignored that voice, chalking it up to excessive caution. My deep sense told me I was in no real danger. 

I parked the bike and dismounted. I took off my helmet before I began to walk toward him. As I approached he watched me. There was no change in his expression, but his eyes were alive with what seemed to me to be curiosity. Neither of us spoke until I got to the base of the stairs. 

I broke the silence. I explained how he might have noticed me nodding to him as I rode by him in the morning. He didn't speak. Next, I began my normal spiel about how commuting to work on my bike had made me  more aware of the people and places I pass everyday. I was somewhere in the middle of what was becoming for me a very uncomfortable monolog when finally the King spoke. "Is that your bike?" I said it was. Then he said, "I like your bike." I thanked him. Then he said, "You know there is a church down the street. They are really nice people. They have a store there and maybe you could find something nice for your bike there." And, even though his expression never changed there was excitement in his voice. 

Suddenly, insight dawned. I realized I was talking to child in a man's body. I changed how I was talking to him and from then on we had a very nice chat. I gave him my name and he gave me his. I learned he had lived in the neighborhood for only three years. Also, I learned when I see him in the morning he is waiting for his ride to pick him up and take him to one of the area hospitals. He didn't tell me if he went there to work or if he was a patient and I didn't ask. Our conversation didn't last long and his expression never changed. I came to wonder if he was even capable of smiling.

I didn't ask if I could take his picture. I'm confident he would have said, "Yes," but, it just didn't seem the right thing to do. Just like taking a picture of a similar building's entry way rather than his seemed to be a very right thing to do.

After my encounter with the King, the weather turned cold again. It was a few days before I rode by him seated on his throne. When I did, I didn't just nod my head but I waved to him. When he noticed me, he stood up and waved back. He waved to me in the way a child waves, not just with his arm but with his whole body. And, the expression on his face never changed, but mine did.

One Still Falling Down And Another Showing Progress And . . .

Awhile back I posted about a building that had been slowly falling down. I'd been watching its demise on my daily commute.

First it looked like this.

Then more of it fell on its own.

And, finally the unit was torn down, but what was left looked none too sturdy.

This Spring has brought some very strong winds and now I am watching the further demise of the remaining portion of the building.

Look familiar?

There is still a family living in the building next to this one. I'm curious what will happen next.

On a happier building note, there is a row of buildings that have been being rehabbed. When last I posted about them they looked like this:

The dumpster had disappeared but it came back

There have been workers on the site all winter, but all the work has been inside. Just in the last two weeks has the progress began to be show on the outside.

Windows . . .

And doors.

The workers are gone by the time I get out in the evening. On a morning when I am either off during the week or can arrange to go into work late, I'm hoping to stop by and see if I can get some information on what the plans are for these buildings. And, if I'm really lucky maybe I will find out some of the history of these buildings.

Now there is another building on my daily commute that is being worked on. I can't tell if it is still being used or not. I had noticed the building before mostly because it had no windows.

The signage said, "Cavalier Products" and you can see the detail of a cavalier above the doors. I hadn't even thought about the building having a false front until it started to come off.

Now, I could see the details of the building from once upon a time.

I wonder what is going to happen to this building next? Is it getting a new facelift or what?


There is so much going on in my little eight and a half mile commute, and that doesn't even include the traffic. Speaking of traffic, it has actually lightened up on some of my route. There has been a speed reduction on Arsenal Street next to Tower Grove Park.

Since the reduction has gone into effect there has been a reduction in traffic. I'd not expected the speed reduction to make much of a difference, but St. Louis' Finest are actually enforcing this change. When the speed limit was ten mph higher people were adding another ten. With all the three-way stops on this route, it was hurry up and wait. Now, traffic is flowing nicely at about 30mph, which seems a good speed for this section of street. And, with less traffic it has cut time off my commute. Plus the incidents of folks passing illegally on my right, apparently in a hurry to get to the next stop sign to wait their turn behind five or six cars, has dropped as well. Don't you just  love it when a plan comes together. 

Catch Up and Flamingos

First the catch up.

Last weekend I went on my longest ride ever: 223 miles. I didn't take many photos. What interested me the most was how I felt after the ride.

The De Soto, Missouri Railroad Employees Memorial

It is the way I feel after nearly every ride, but it was more pronounced after being on the bike most of the day.

It's a mixture of feelings. It is part accomplishment, part astonishment, part satisfaction, and part tranquility, yet it is more. It is a profound sense of well-being. After the ride, I was tired, 223 miles on a 101cc bike is a long way, but couldn't stop smiling.

By the way, when I stopped for lunch, I happened to look at the odometer.

There is a young man named Binh Cheung who rode a Symba just like mine from San Jose, California to the Arctic Circle and back. He went a total of 7747 miles. It took him a little over a month to go that far. It took me a little over a year to go that far. I accomplished this milestone in Sullivan, Missouri. Here's a link to a blog with Binh's story: http://symplifylife.com/2010/06/symba-ride-to-alaska/

Now for the flamingos.

Today I spent the morning giving Billie her post winter bath. It was quite a job. Not long after I finished my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter surprised me with a visit. So, I took them out for a late lunch. This didn't leave much time for riding, so I decided to work on my slow speed driving skills, or as I prefer to say: I went Flamingo hunting. And, while putzing through a new neighborhood, boy did I hit the mother-lode !

I happened upon a house with a flock of flamingos in front of it.

I pulled over and took a picture. After I took the photo, I noticed a man walking his dog and as is my custom I went over and let him know I was taking pictures of the flamingo and not casing the neighborhood. He told me if I liked flamingos I really had to meet the woman who lived in the house. And, he lead me up the driveway to meet Linda. Linda had pulled into her driveway while I was talking to the man.

This is Linda. She didn't put this hat on for me. This is what she was wearing.

Linda was excited to show me her collection. We started in her backyard. She apologized for them not being in there usual places, but rather sort of clumped together for the winter.

Then we moved to her basement.

She was quite proud of this treasure.

Next came the kitchen.

And, then the front rooms.

This one danced and sang, "You Are My Sunshine."

Thank you, Linda.

Since I've been riding my Symba I have met people I would never have met. It is true that I have met the nicest and most interesting people on my Symba.

And, whether it is a long ride, a short ride, or a full blown flamingo safari when I get home there is a smile on my face and contentment in my soul.