Could this be the last ride?

City on the horizon
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

As unbelievable as our weather has been it still came as a pleasant surprise to be out there riding on the twenty-fourth of November. When will the 2009 season be over? I have no idea. All things considered I wouldn't rule out a December ride just yet. I can always dress for the cold just so long as there's no wind. Let's hear it for global warming! If it results in milder and shorter winters, then let's get out there and burn that fossil fuel.

Of things hyped all out of proportion the so-called climate crisis is right up there with H1N1. Are you afraid yet? Watch any of the twenty-four hour news channels. You'd think people were dropping dead of the flu right and left and the bodies were stacking up in the streets the way they go on. Frankly I think you have a better chance of dying from old age while waiting in line for your shot. I seem to remember some other acronym everyone was in a panic over a few years ago--Y2K--talk about a complete nonevent. So far the drunk drivers of the world are still way out front in terms of killing people and we're just coming into their favorite season.

As for the climate change, get used to it. Adapt or die. Yes, the climate has already changed and continues to do so. Yes, it is without a doubt the direct result of manmade emissions. Is there anything we can do about it? Uh, no. Plain and simple answer is that we cannot and will not shut down all carbon dioxide emitters. Nor can carbon capture do more than scratch the surface of what's already there. The climate crisis is a crisis of talk only for no one seems willing to admit there's nothing that can be done. So they talk and as they do the carbon diozide content continues to climb, some of it no doubt due to their lengthly and pointless speeches.

It's all academic anyway since the world's going to end in 2012 according to Hollywood. Being a lover of disaster movies I have no doubt this one will wind up in our collection. As to the prediction itself, at least we won't have to wait very long to find out. Of course this means I only have two more seasons left riding. Darn! I shall miss my bridge and the adjacent pathway once the world is gone. I shall miss all the pretty girls and butterflies.

Everything alive has already either gone into hibernation or flown south except for the geese. The lake and all the little ponds are frozen. The temperature out there was a brisk +3 when I started out at 9 AM. It warmed up to maybe +6 by the time I got back to the car at noon. Still, not bad for the end of November.

Winds Of Change

Arrival
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

I ventured out for yet one more ride yesterday and was struck by how much the scenery has changed from the lush green fields I rode through back in April to the barren, silent landscape of November. It was a wonderful summer and has been an incredible fall. I never dreamed I’d still be riding in November yet there I was, down at the bridge one more time. The railway bridge at the end of the pathway has become the symbol of my rides for it represents the turnaround point. I have arrived at my destination—now all I have to do is make it back.

The ride out was easy with the Chinook winds pushing me along. Coming back was another matter entirely. Even on dead level ground it’s tough to push against a forty or fifty kilometer an hour headwind. This is the price we pay for the warmer temperatures—a gusty, wicked wind from the west. According to the weather channel the gusts were in the fifty to sixty kilometer per hour range, almost but not quite enough to push me back to the lake. Needless to say the car was a very welcome sight.

Even with most of the wildlife gone and most of the crops already in, there was still a few things out there to take pictures of. The low angle of the sun this time of year makes for some great reflection shots off the lake or canal. Then there were the geese--just about the only birds left other than the odd seagul and a small flock of swans. The honking is a constant background noise--the only sound in an otherwise silent landscape. Soon they too will be on their way.

All Hallows Ride

Wetlands Conservatory
Originally uploaded by Unknown species

So there it was the day before Halloween and I managed to get in one more ride. Back in August I thought the season was over yet September proved me wrong. I’m not about to declare this the final ride just yet. The forecast for my next day off is looking good so far. As long as there isn’t any snow and the temps are above zero I intend to try. What really struck me this week was how quiet it was by the wetlands conservatory. All the songbirds have long since flown south. Even the insects are gone. There was a skim of ice on what little water remained in the canal. The geese on the other hand numbered in the thousands. The field just off the bike path was a seething mass of black and gray. As always I managed to find things to take pictures of. The sky was all pastels and weird cloud formations in the background made for some interesting photos.

It has been almost exactly a year since I began this blog. Okay, so my motivations for starting it up were a bit flawed, it has still been a worthwhile venture if only for the practice it gives me at writing. As well, it’s a place to show off my best shots from my cycling adventures. Every now and then I take up the soapbox and use this space to rant. All in all it's been one hell of a year yet here I am, still kicking.

There was a definite sparcity of wildlife to be found out there this week. Where late the sweet birds sang there was onlu silence. There were geese by the thousands and even a sizable flock of swans but little else. The only patch of green left is the golf course and even they have taken to covering up the greens with plastic tarps.

A magnificent desolation was how Buzz Aldrin described the lunar surface. It wasn't quite desolation out there but it certainly had a different feel than it did back in August or even September. The temperature barely crept up to ten Celsius and the sky was overcast.

Still, for this late in October I wasn't complaining--the very fact that I could and did get out there was enough. I have fallen in love with cycling all over again this year as well as photography. Thankfully the two seem to have worked rather well together for me.

The so-called Vanishing Point is where parallel lines meet at the horizon. It is also the place where I reside, on the edge of the known in a state of confusion. The world confuses, amazes and most of all astounds me with its beauty yet is only a tiny speck awash in an infinite sea of stars and planets.