Turning right on Ford Road, I encountered a steep hill. At the bottom of the hill was a vulture. There were three other vultures circling above. I had some trepidation about continuing, as there was another steep hill just beyond the vulture. After waiting for a while, a car passed by the vulture and it flew away. I considered my options. If I turned around, this trip was for nothing. So I continued.
The vulture flew away when I approached.
I turned on Hickory Lane. It was not a bad road, but there were some hills. There was a run-down house with about 30 cars in the yard. I did not feel too comfortable there. It felt like "Deliverance." I kept riding. I changed my mind about my planned route when I reached Illinois Ave. I had planned to turn left, but when I got there I saw that I would have to climb a hill over the railroad bridge. I could see a relatively flat path to SR 430 to my right, but I knew traffic would be heavier there. So I chose to go straight ahead, down Hickory. There was a pretty good downhill, followed by a gradual uphill past an auto-wrecking firm and the Madison soccer fields. Eventually I arrived at Park Avenue East. Since it was Sunday afternoon, traffic was light. I crossed over, and rode to the railway underpass and intersection with Route 42. Went through the underpass and up the hill. Dinner was waiting in the oven at home, and my riding had been slow. I was worried that the roast might become overdone, so I called Ed to come and pick me up.
While I was standing there, I reflected on Hemingway's words
“It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle.” Truer words were never spoken. I never noticed this street before, or the view of the old abandoned Westinghouse plant.
No comments:
Post a Comment