Biker Dave Redux

I have written in the past about my days as “Biker Dave” riding my Yamaha YDS2 motorcycle while in college; see, in the order published, Word-press project initial status report, Thomas L Friedman – The Green Leap Forward, Bob Knoll: Coast to Coast In The Pursuit of Economy, The Mobil Economy Run, Dave Shields’s — Bikers, Bloggers, Writers.

With this post I announce that “Biker Dave,” aka the “Jikes Dave,” has recently joined the “Biker Dave” who writes about racing, as described in the last post listed above, as a biker, although as the rider of a bicycle, not a motorycle. [1]

So YDS2 “Biker Dave” is now “Biker Dave Redux.” [2]

I purchased bikes for our family twenty years ago when we moved to Chappaqua. The two remaining had lain idle for many years until I had them refurbished a few weeks ago. Since then my wife Karin and I have spent several weekend mornings taking our bikes to the road.

Our favorite spot at the moment is Route 100, going north from Route 188 to Route 35. This stretch of Route 100 abuts part of the Croton Reservoir and is exceptionally beautiful. It was the road taken by my wife on her daily commute for several years when she taught at the Somers Middle School, and also part of my daily commute for three years until I started working from home just over a year ago.

Here are some photos from our latest outing this past Saturday:

Bike Shadows on Route 100Bike Shadows on Route 100

Karin leading the way north on Route 100Karin leading the way north on Route 100

Blogger Dave; Biker Dave, ReduxBlogger Dave; Biker Dave, Redux

Views of Croton ReservoirView of Croton Reservoir looking towards Route 35

Boat of Route 100 near Croton ReservoirBoat off Route 100 near Croton Reservoir

Fall View on Route 100Fall View on Route 100

Muscoot FarmMuscoot Farm

Karin, Farmer Joe, and the Painted Mailbox ManKarin, Farmer Joe, and the Painted Mailbox Man

While this stretch of Route 100 is quite flat, and thus a favorite of local riders, the stretch from Route 118 south to Route 134 is quite dangerous, with much narrower, and in some cases none, shoulders.

Just over a mile west of the intersection of Route 100 and 188, or just west of the intersection of Route 100 and Route 134 about two miles soutch can be found entrances to the Westchester County Trailway. Much of it, including the part nearest our house, is built on the railbed of the old Westchester-Putnam country railroad, “The Put.” An outstanding example of the railroad bridges of the early 1900’s can be found just south of the entrance on Route 118. It has been restored, and has a fine wooden walkway that crosses the Croton Reservoir. The Croton Dam, built in the 1840’s, created the reservoir. Along with the elevator invented by James Otis, it was one of the key engineering marvels that made modern New York City possible.

Karin walked our dog Scout after the bike ride, before we headed off for a fun day in New York City:

Walking our poodle scout after the bike rideWalking our poodle scout after the bike ride


1. I recently read with interest an article about a Gliding Club in nearby Rockland County in the “Escapes” section of Friday’s New York Times. When I mentioned my possible interest in gliding to Karin she was aghast, so I have decided to limit my outdoor adventures to walking the dog, golf and biking.

David Kumhyr, one of my colleagues in IBM’s LTC, has built one airplane on his own, and is at work now on two more. He also has over a hundred patents, and is thus one of IBM’s Master Inventors.

2. With apologies to John Updike, author of “Rabbit Runs” and “Rabbit Redux.” While a staff writer for the New Yorker in the late 1950’s he wrote a “Talk of the Town” piece about the Spry sign that I first read in Albuquerque. The neon sign, “Spry For Baking,” then stood across the Hudson from the West Side of Manhattan, in a feeble attempt to lure New Yorkers to venture across the Hudson River to New Jersey. Having failed at that mission it was demolished decades ago. I could see it from the apartment at 92nd and Riverside where I stayed during my first visit to New York City, in March, 1963. It was during that visit that I vowed to live in New York City for at least five years before I turned thirty.

It was in that apartment that I first tasted an English Muffin, cooked under the broiler in an oven to make a morning’s breakfast.

It was also there that I saw one of my friend’s roommates toast an English Muffin after a night spent in the company of a stunning beauty of a Columbia undergraduate whom he had picked up the night before, perhaps in a store while he was buying the muffins.

Looking back, I realize that it was the coed, not the muffin, that led to my vow. Though both were quite tasty, I realized that, while New Jersey might be ok for baking, New York was a much more promising destination for a young man throbbing with hormones.

Once I became a resident of NYC, I found, unsurprisingly, that I was much more skilled in picking up English Muffins than coeds. Maybe I should have joined the Spry sign in New Jersey, though I’m glad I didn’t.

One Comment

  1. Posted October 1, 2007 at 16:01 | Permalink | Reply

    Now that’s living! If there ever comes a day you need some inspiration to ride I know of some good books. 😉

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