wah-mei birds

Starting a list of things I love about my commute, in no particular order. Today's is the Wah-Mei Bird Garden, on the north edge of Sara Roosevelt Park at Chrystie and Delancey.

Many mornings, when passing this corner, I hear a burst of loud, clear, beautiful bird song. Apparently the Chinese men who keep these songbirds bring them to the park every morning to allow their pets some fresh air. Once or twice, I've turned into the park and walked my bike up the steps to take a look and say good morning. The birds are pretty, but not the rococo beauties that the songs would have you expect. Their collective song is a note as clear as a tuning fork above the diesel/horn/subsonic subway rumble that comprises the usual Chrystie Street soundtrack.

This morning, cold and clear and, inasmuch as my commute doubles as meditation, the bird song banished a bit of darkness from my thoughts as surely and completely as a gong in a Himalayan temple, driving out the demons of disorder.

david byrne is a fellow commuter

Some years ago I found that if there were a few music or art events happening one evening in downtown Manhattan the fastest and easiest way to hit them all was by bike. While other club, film, restaurant or gallery-hoppers were searching for cabs or pacing subway platforms I would be zooming through the cool night air. I felt a little superior, but also a little lonely — it’s hard to have conversations or meet people on a bike. But you sure can turn an evening into a mini-festival.

-- David Byrne

real freakin' cold

It was the coldest day of the year (so far) today, and it was 13 degrees when I left the house. Thirteen is around where I get into "What the hell am I doing on a bike?" territory, but I was happy I rode. I don't generally have any specific cycling clothing other than gloves (by Specialized), which are an all-weather must-have. My gear today was four top layers: a t-shirt, a thin sweater, a fleece jacket for warmth and a German Navy surplus outer nylon shell for windproofing. Bottoms: jeans, insulated sox, and Merrell hiking boots. $5 knit cap and $5 scarf from the Ghanaian street vendor in front of my workplace. I could have used an extra layer on my legs (either thermal undies, cycling tights, or my gore-tex rain gear for windproofing), and my thighs got a bit numb towards the end of my 35-minute ride. The gloves were about at their limit, too... once safely on the Manhattan Bridge where one needn't brake, I pulled my fingers out and balled my fists for a couple of minutes.

If you adhere to my philosophy that you should bike in street clothes, dressing for a ride in 13 degree weather is much like dressing for a walk in 13 degree weather. Layers, layers, layers. I do, however, highly recommend a neoprene headband that covers the ears. Toastier than any hat. And headband plus hat = happy head.

Of course, riding should never be punishing. I happen to like the cold much better than the hot. Ideal commuting weather for me is clear and 40 degrees (with a tailwind, natch). Cold by itself is not enough to keep me off the bike. I'll ride through the winter, unless there's ice or snow on the streets. Chunky ice curbs do not play well with skinny tires.