The longer I stay at home, the more I look as if I'm homeless.

Lately, I'm out riding as usual around Miami, but I've left my road bike at home. I'm becoming addicted to my little folding Brompton. It's cute. I can fold it and take it inside places with me. And, did I mention it's really cute?

Sometimes I wear a standard bike kit (padded lycra shorts and a cycling jersey). But I can take long rides on the Brompton without the traditional kit. More and more I'm wearing padded cycling liners under casual comfy clothes. (Which is my preferred outfit when I'm on a Running Away From Home on a Bicycle trip.) 

I try to pack very, very light for touring. My travel clothes are all mix and match, stuff that layers well with a little style. Easy to hand wash and fast drying. And padded bike underwear dries a lot faster than padded lycra bike shorts. Not to mention being much easier to hand wash.

I used to have a separate stash of clothes just for travel. No more. I'm not traveling what with COVID, but the COVID lifestyle has changed my closet. (Be honest. Raise your hand if your wardrobe is different these days, too.) Gone are the high maintenance tops, skinny jeans, and fancy dress shoes. Everything now is comfy. Stylish but practical.

Yep. The longer I'm stuck at home in Miami, the more I look like I'm on a permanent bike tour. (How great is that?)

The only thing that separates us from the animals is our ability to accessorize. (Clairee, Steel Magnolias)

Screen shopping. Mostly it's recreational, online browsing as it were, looking at things I want but don't need. But with a CLICK, fantasy can become reality. (It's practically magic.)

I enjoy looking at accessories for my bikes. Since I have pretty much everything I need, it's generally a safe way to spend some idle time. (Generally.)

One afternoon I found myself looking at the little wheels for my Brompton's rear rack. They come in different colors, styles, and slightly different sizes. 

I looked over at my Brompton. Its little wheels were OK. Functional and sturdy. (How boring.)

Then I saw some wheels with a little flair. Simple design, functional, but with enough detail to be a bit more visually interesting. They echoed the design of the bigger wheels and the chainring. They were a bit larger, too, so they'd roll a bit better. In my mind's eye, I could see those wheels on my little bike, an improvement I'd like. OK, I didn't need them, but they weren't that expensive...

CLICK. 

(If you have bicycles you love, you understand.)

I’m at a place in my life when errands are starting to count as going out. (Anonymous)

A Brompton can be used as a shopping cart. I decided to add a shopping stop to my regular Saturday ride. I wanted to stop at a specialty grocery store about 5 miles from my home.

When I arrived at the store, I half-folded the Brompton. Those four little wheels on the rear carrier rack (called Eazy Wheels) allow the Brompton to roll along as my shopping cart. I can use either the handlebars or the seat to push, pull, and steer my "shopping cart." I like using the seat.

This is fun! At the store, employees and shoppers acted like seeing the Brompton rolling down the aisles in shopping cart mode was totally commonplace. People made comments about my helmet and helmet mirror, but not one comment about the bike! 

  

The Joy of a Bicycle Basket

I ordered my Brompton back before COVID appeared. Which is why I ordered a big Brompton bag for touring. I didn't bother with getting a smaller bag. My plans were all about travel. 

One of the great points about a Brompton is the luggage system. There's a luggage carrier block on the frame. Brompton has a large range of bags of all sizes and uses. Each bag has a sturdy piece that clips onto the carrier block. It doesn't move with the handlebars. That means the weight of the bag and its contents doesn't interfere with steering.

My big touring bag (a large Borough roll top bag) is a bit of overkill for errands and short local rides. The smaller basket bag (the Borough basket bag) is a better choice. So I ordered one in July. Times being what they are, I had to order it from London. I definitely like it. Perfect size. It folds. There's outside webbing for hanging stuff. (Like my little hand sanitizer bottle.) There's an inside organizing pocket for wallet, phone, and keys. It has strap handles that make it easy to carry as a should bag off the bike. Definitely better than my little backpack or a string bag, especially in the humid heat of summer in Miami. 

When the basket bag arrived, I clipped it onto the bike for a ride. I couldn't believe I'd gotten along without it. Perfect for quick shopping stops. Perfect for carrying a snack and my little thermos of espresso. 

Proof that happiness can be found in the little things in life.

Fenders

My Brompton has fenders. Getting the fenders was the easiest way to get the rack with wheels. (The wheeled rack with fenders is an option when you order the bike. And I'm all for easy.) The wheeled rack lets you move the bike easily when it's folded. It also becomes a stable bike stand for the partially folded bike. 

It turns out, fenders can be handy. This week I got caught in not one, not two, but three downpours on a single ride. The neighborhood roads I was on quickly turned into shallow lakes. I picked my way around the worst spots, but I had to ride through a lot of water. 

On my other (fenderless) bikes, my kit would have been splattered with road filth. But all the water that got to me was rain coming from above. I was soaking wet when I got home. But that was it. Wet. No filthy stuff all over my legs or back. 

Fenders do look quaint. But maybe, just maybe, I'm going to learn to love them.

Time is the longest distance between two places. (Tennessee Williams)

It's been 5 months since I traveled anywhere. I'm still trying to get used to the idea of being in the same place day after day, week after week.

My original plans for this summer and fall had included some trips with my new Brompton folding bicycle. I had planned to spend a few nights with friends in states up north. Like these friends, I'm in my 70s. The travel plans and the visits have all been moved to next year. The short and simple story is the Brompton and I won't be traveling together for almost a year. 

Even getting the new bike felt different this year. New bike! What's not to love? But I got anxious, irritable, and depressed every time I tinkered with it. The problem wasn't the differences between the Brompton folding bike and my other bikes. After all this isn't my first folding bike. (It's my third.) 

The Brompton is going to be my utility bike for errands and such in Miami and a travel bike. I just needed a little adjustment time to tamp down my excitement about the travel part and ramp up the fun of the Miami utility bike part.

I made a list of little jobs the Brompton needed. Seemed like a good place to start. The jobs were easy. I cobbled together a seatpost light mount that I liked better than the original. I needed a way to mount my Garmin. I located a spare quarter-turn Garmin mount, and, with a lot of effort and a good deal of colorful language, fitted it on the M handlebar. I made some minor adjustments to the position of the handlebar. Working on the bike got me excited about riding it. So that's what I did.

So, a month after its arrival, I'm giving myself a do-over: I've got a new bike! It folds. I can take it into stores and offices. (No more searching for a safe place to lock my bike. No more worrying whether it will still be there when I come out.) And it's cute. It's been a while since I've had a decidedly cute bike.

What's not to love?

The new Brompton. My third folder. So far, I love everything about it!

Our first folding travel bikes, Bike Fridays.

Our second folding bikes, inexpensive folders, were easy to carry inside the car on trips to the city back when we lived in the boonies.

Satan called. He wants his weather back. (Anonymous)

It's 7:30 AM. Al and I are pedaling down the road. And it's freaking hot.

How hot? To use my favorite Southernism, it's so hot chickens are laying hard-boiled eggs. The ride has barely begun, and I am soaked with sweat.

Half the fun of biking during a heat advisory in South Florida is cataloging the comments from friends. There's the usual squad that expresses fears that you've lost your mind. There's another crew that itemizes the exercise opportunities that can be done indoors or in a pool. Then there's my favorite bunch. They just think it's hysterically funny.

Why are we out there? Well, Al and I keep our lives moving along by trusting in rituals and routines. Rituals are little actions performed almost automatically before an activity. Like checking the tires on your bike before heading out on your ride. Or going through a little gear list (phone, wallet, keys, water, snack). Rituals calm you. Routines are the bigger picture. Like how we ride 4 days a week. Always the same 4 days of the week.

Routines are powerful things, the things that drive both your good and your bad habits. Because of Covid-19, Al and I have lost our group rides with friends and our travel. Those are on hold. There's a very real heartache for that loss. Still, we follow our routines to whatever extent we can because it gets us out on our bikes riding the miles we want to ride.

After our hot, sweaty ride, I'm chatting online with a friend. She's telling me about taking her dog bikepacking with her. I tell her about our ride and how hot it was. "Idiot," she says. "So you had fun, huh?"

"Couldn't be happier if I had good sense," I replied.

You can’t have everything. Where would you put it? (Steven Wright)

Al and I live in a studio condo. And into it, we've fit four bicycles. I wanted to add a folding bicycle for me. 

My two bicycles were stacked behind the sofa in our main living area. A Brompton bicycle would fit, folded, neatly between the back wheel of my rebuilt titanium mountain bike (now a travel bike) and our IKEA desk. The accessories would all fit in our big bike cabinet and my little travel gear cabinet. 

So with great excitement on my part, I ordered the Brompton in January. Delivery was scheduled for March. Then came Covid19 and chaos to businesses around the world. I'd ordered a customized bike and accessories. They were coming from London via New York City, both hard hit early in the pandemic. Six months after ordering the bike, it was delivered to Miami. Two minor accessories were not in, but was I willing to accept delivery and get them later? I most certainly was!

So now I have my new bike. And, more importantly, I have a place to put it in our very tiny home.

A Tale of Two Saddles

I'd had the same saddle on my road bike for years. It was a sleek carbon fiber featherweight that fit my sit bones perfectly. I used to joke that I wanted to be buried with that saddle.

But when I started clipping in again this summer, I had a bit of a problem with it. I needed to make this little weight shift with regularity as I pedaled. A little adaptation that made my surgically remodeled feet work with the clips. When I did it, I kept slipping a tiny bit on the slick saddle and hitting a hard edge. Ouch! I practiced the move for almost 150 miles of riding. I just could not make that little weight shift without getting bit by that hard edge.

The covid19 pandemic makes this a particularly bad time to try out a bunch of saddles at a bike shop. As luck would have it though, I just put a new saddle on the bike I use for my Running Away From Home on a Bicycle trips. It's a great saddle, but it sure doesn't have the style of the elegant little carbon fiber saddle. It took me a week to decide to screw style and just put a Selle Anatomica R2 on my road bike. 

The Selle Anatomica is a clone of the Brooks saddle which is famously comfortable. The Brooks is an adjustable leather saddle made in the UK. The Selle Anatomica is made in San Diego. A friend of mine in California loves hers and wanted me to get one. I'm not a fan of high maintenance leather saddles. But then the company came out with the R2, the same saddle but made with vulcanized rubber instead of leather. Just what you need in Miami where rainy rides are pretty common June-November.

It didn't take much time to order and get the saddle. I popped it on the road bike as soon as it was delivered. It is amazingly comfortable on the road bike. And I could do that little weight shift without an ouch! 

There was another surprise, too. The saddle acts a bit like a suspension saddle, providing protection from bumps and road chatter. 

Function and comfort beat out style. (Cheers to that!)

It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage. (Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark)

One of our favorite weekend bike rides is from home north to Hollywood along the barrier islands that make up Miami Beach and a couple other beach communities. Sometimes we stop at the Broadwalk in Hollywood. Sometimes we head to the state park north of Hollywood. It's true we're slowing down. What used to be a "recovery" ride is now a perfectly pleasant weekend pace.

 

This week we decided we wanted to head up to Hollywood for our Saturday ride. The Broadwalk wouldn't be open until next week, but Al and I aren't ready to visit any restaurants or coffee spots anyway. (It's going to be a while.) We just wanted to ride a bit on the frontage along the beach in Hollywood. The whole area is opening up for business again, and traffic is pretty much back to a light normal. It was a beautiful ride.

When we got home, I checked our mileage for the year. Al's mileage is decent, but mine is a bit under 3200 miles. I wasn't expecting a high mileage year, but that still surprised me. No travel, covid19 closings of parks, and bad weather have taken more of a toll than I guessed. It makes me wonder what I've been doing with my time. But the year is only half over. Lots of rides still ahead.

Pedal, pedal, pedal.

Luck's always to blame. (Jean de La Fontaine)

I'm clipping in again on my road bike. If I want to keep up with Al, I need to ride without flat pedals.

The bike shop put on my Shimano Click'R pedals. These are by far the easiest pedals on the planet to clip in and out of. Then I put multi-directional SPD cleats on my bike shoes. Easy peasy. You unscrew two little screws on the soles of the shoes. A piece of sole pops off. You attach the cleats with the two screws.

Years ago I had this done as part of a bike fitting. Unfortunately, I can't see a fit guy right now because of this virus thing. So I basically trusted in luck.

There are a row of joints, the MTP (metatarsophalangeal) joints, that form the ball of the foot. I needed to know the line these joints make on my foot. Everybody's foot is different, but for most people, the MTP line won't go straight across the foot. It will angle a bit or a lot. Once I knew the points on each side of my foot, I put my foot in my bike shoe and marked those two points on the sides of the soles. 

The point nearest the crank should be slightly in front of the pedal's axle. The outside point should be slightly behind the pedal's axle. 

I was going to do the first short ride with Al. I thought I'd just trust luck. I was a bit short of time, so put the cleats in the middle position on my shoes. (You know, the Goldilocks setting, not all the way forward, not all the way back.) I knew they would need adjustment, but the thing can only move a part of an inch. How big a deal can it be? I was just going to practice clipping in and out and stuff like that on my first ride. I hadn't done this stuff in a couple years, and I was a bit anxious.

It turns out, it can be a big deal. In 35 short miles, my left knee hurt, my right ankle hurt (a lot), and my right hip hurt. I limped when I finally got off the bike.

I adjusted the cleat positions to make the MTP joint lines align properly with the pedal axles. The next day Al and I took another short 35-mile ride. Success! No pain in the knee, hip, or ankle. 

Lucky me.

Coffee at Cartier

I was out on my Sunday ride. I had my little thermos of espresso. I had my scone from Madruga Bakery.

I was planning on stopping at a state park north of Miami for my treats. I was almost there when I decided I wanted a more nostalgic setting. Now I love old movies. What came to mind was that classic, Breakfast at Tiffany's. But I've always been more partial to Cartier than Tiffany's. No problem at any rate. All I had to do was route myself to the Miami Design District.

Which I did. I commandeered the seating area nearest the store. I used the rack on my bike as a makeshift table. Perfect.

Not that I conjured up Holly Golightly in the minds of the few dog walkers who strolled by. A woman in her 70s wearing a bike helmet and lycra hardly mimics the glamor of stick skinny Audrey Hepburn with her piled high dark hair, rhinestone evening jewelry, and little black dress. 

But I was humming Moon River nonetheless.

Simple goes a long way. (Bad Bunny)

I'm riding my usual days, but playmates are limited. I'm lucky to have my husband, Al, on a lot of my rides. But not all. The challenge this year: how to ride the miles I like to ride without sliding into a boredom funk. (I just can't ride the same routes over and over. It makes me feel like an idiotic gerbil on an exercise wheel.) 

So, in the last few weeks, I've been working on getting lost.

I'm riding Miami's neighborhoods with an eye for gardening, landscaping, and generally lovely tropical settings. All my rides start and end at home. I head out in the direction of the day's wind (with hopes of a tailwind when I head back home). I wander unconcerned about where I am until I reach over half of the miles I want to ride for the day. 

I am totally lost at this point. 

I go to my Garmin and tell it to take me home. Sometimes the fastest route gives me enough miles. If not, I go back on the route I came.

Simple. Get lost. Get miles.

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple. (Dr. Seuss)

 A third of the year has slipped by. I enjoy riding by myself, but this is ridiculous. On the positive side, it has given me a lot of time to play around with bike stuff. Like clipping in. The doctors said they didn't think it will work for me anymore. I'm thinking I want to test that a bit before giving up on clipping in.

I've started making changes in how I pedal. Trying to see if I can tolerate the foot position I would need to use to clip in again. It looks hopeful. I'm trying different techniques for taping my right ankle for extra support.

I've got a pair of double-sided Shimano SPD Click'r pedals, the easiest pedals on the planet for clipping in and out. I'll give them a shot first. I found a friend in Connecticut who worked through a similar problem, and she has offered a bunch of other modifications to try.

Lots of questions about what will help and what may work. The answer is really, really simple: I won't know until I try. (Fingers crossed.)

Silly Stuff

Silliest thing: me in the only mask I own that can be worn while cycling. I have others that are OK for walks and such. This one, however, doesn't smoother you when you are breathing hard and can be washed after every wearing.

Since the start of this covid thing, we're all constantly doing risk analysis. And, not surprisingly, it is changing social rules in many neighborhoods. This is really true in one neighborhood I ride in a lot. Riding without a mask there is a big social no-no. Without a mask I get icy stares and scowls. With a mask people wave and say "good morning" and will even chat if I stop a respectful and safe distance from them. Another thing I love is their habit of saying "Thank you; enjoy your ride" when I make a wide arc around them when they are on the road walking, jogging, or biking with their family.

Here's some of the silly stuff I saw recently in this interesting area.

1. Three men had blocked off a cul de sac. In every driveway one or two kids sat. One of the men had a big chalkboard with kid's names. Another man was nearby with a stopwatch. The third man was managing the kids. I stopped a respectful distance away and asked what was going on. "PE. We're having them do sprints today. They love it. Their moms love it. Tires them out beautifully." Clever. Since they have "PE" at around the same time every day, I'm going to try to keep tabs on this merry crew.
2. Four young kids were playing outside in a yard behind a big fence and gate. A car was at the curb honking. The driver was standing by her open car door yelling at the house, "Look at the kids! Look at the kids!" Three of the kids were looking warily between the car and the house. The fourth kid was on the ground, tied up with enough rope to hold a small rodeo steer. He was crying and yelling. I decided against seeing the three little rope artists get ripped into by their mom when the noise finally caught her attention. I pedaled away.
3. I got to ask about a few interesting dogs, the type a friend calls "accidental designer dogs." Rescues mostly, but clearly adored by their owners. A delightful cocker spaniel dachshund mix. A cute collie pit bull mix. And a weird poodle husky mix (think poodle with those piercing husky eyes...)

Who knew solo bike rides could be so much fun.

What's Old Is New Again

You have to have a routine, particularly during the current lockdown. Bike rides fill mornings. After lunch, I started doing a spring cleaning of sorts.

I started with the big IKEA wardrobe we use to store bike gear. Organizing spare tires, spare tubes, tools, and spare parts. (I found 7 mounts for Garmins!) Getting an assortment of bags and gadgets sorted. Fixing gear that could be fixed. Throwing out the junk and trash. Mending a jersey or two. Throwing away some downright ratty jerseys and sun sleeves.

That went so well I continued with some online bike things. I have GPS routes from trips and events all over Florida, Georgia, and North and South Carolina. And there are the routes from friends in places I want to visit. Not to mention the gamut of rides in and around Miami. My online routes library was a chaotic jumble.

So I began by deleting routes with annoying glitches. Then I moved on to deleting routes I thought were unlikely to be used. Routes were renamed to make them easier to remember and locate. Soon a semblance of order emerged.

Of course we couldn't help but ride some of the Miami routes. Al and I had particularly nice rides to two sections of the city we hadn't ridden around in quite some time. The routes were old but felt new again. There was a warm overlay of memories of riding the routes with friends, of easy conversation and laughter.

This week we rode alone, but, nevertheless, they were there.

You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club. (Jack London)

I spent a couple decades of my adult life living in rural areas. I'm talking places where cattle outnumber people. It gave me a handy skill set for cycling in urban Miami during the covid-19 lockdown.

Rural living is quiet because there is flat out nothing to do but things you think up on your own. As a cyclist, I joked that we had an abundance of scenic roads and double track to ride. Our problem was there were just no destinations. 

But the skill set rural life taught was more than just how to be self sufficient on long bicycle rides in the middle of nowhere. It's a mindset. Figuring out what you want. Figuring out how to get what you want. Figuring out how to amuse yourself.

So while I may have a lot of issues to deal with these days, cycling isn't one of them. Here in Miami I've got places to go and nifty things to see. And no cell phone dead zones. And physical distancing? Heck. People you can tell to back off. Cattle, snakes, and weird wild critters? Not so much.

Life is good. 

There are four kinds of Homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy. (Ambrose Bierce)

Everyone is getting a bit (ahem) irritable.

The covid-19 lockdown has left me without my running away from home on a bicycle trips. For my mental health, I need to give my solo rides a touch of novelty and adventure. (Nothing big, just a little touch will do.)

I ride 4 days a week. I ride with my husband Al as much as possible. He's a lot faster than me, and, while I really love that he willingly rides slow with me, it would be ridiculously selfish of me to expect him to do it all the time.

On solo rides I use GPS on my Garmin and/or phone to create novel routes. Where to ride? Well, remember I'm trying to have a little replacement therapy for my running away from home on my bicycle trips. I'm happiest when I'm chasing down a series of destinations. I started a list for Miami.

• Miami has 148 parks, gardens, recreation areas, and playgrounds. Sure they are closed right now, but they work as targets. I pick a few and create a route that strings them together. (And not all parks are surrounded by walls and gates. Just saying.)
• Miami has a lot of communities. So I create a route that goes through a bunch of them. Extra points for getting a photo of a sign marking the community. An alternative is picking a community or two to explore.
• I pick a historic site or two. The farther from home, the better.
• Architecture makes a great theme for a route. MiMo, for example, in the Upper East Side neighborhood (the area south of Miami Shores and east of Little Haiti.) I'm a big fan of brutalist architecture, and rides that highlight examples are particular fun for me.
• As you can see, I doubt I'll soon run short of themes for  future rides.

It's simple and easy. It keeps me distracted from the things I can't do until this virus thing is in our collective rear view mirror.

Bike rides aren't just exercise time. Bike rides are mental health adjustment time.

Midtown

Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, 'It will be happier.' (Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Al and I go for bike rides four days a week. It used to be a convenient routine that kept us in shape. These days it's a mental health necessity. We're out of the condo. (Yeah!) We're soaking up some sunshine. (Yeah!) We're stretching our muscles. (Yeah!) We're seeing in the real world people. (Yeah!)

I headed out on our Easter Sunday ride feeling irritable, disjointed, and down-in-the-dumps. I was missing my friends. I was missing the stops for coffee on bike rides. I was missing seeing people without masks.

Then I chanced upon a family out on their bikes. Mom. Dad. A boy about 10 years old. And a little girl about 5 years old on a pink princess bike. The little girl had decorated her bike. And I mean decorated it. Flowers. Lots of ribbons and bows. Pinwheels. Her little bike basket was filled with Easter basket cellophane grass and big candy eggs. Something that might have been a pink stuffed bunny was tied to the back of her bike seat. I mean, the little princess bike absolutely twinkled. It was magical.

Seeing that little girl made me smile. My mood picked up. Things weren't so bad after all.

Happier times wait ahead.

Until you walk a mile in another man's moccasins you can't imagine the smell. (Robert Byrne)

Technology has been the silver lining in the pandemic's stay-at-home thing. It's let me spend my time with people who live far from my home in Miami.

I have two friends that I've known since the 80s when we worked together. About a dozen years ago we discovered our mutual interest in bicycles, and we began chatting online regularly. We are three women in our 70s. I live in a highrise in Miami. One friend lives on a farm in south Georgia, and the other lives in a town in rural north Florida. We all love solo rides. We all love to travel on our bikes.

Because they live in rural areas, it's a lot easier for them to physically distance themselves on their bike rides. Still, they have had to negotiate some compromises with their families.

• Pavement riding only so someone can drive out for them and their bike if there is a serious problem.
• They have to leave a route and expected return time at home (because there are areas where cell phones are iffy should there be a problem.)
• And no overnight trips. (No particular reason, it seems. Apparently it just drives family crazy to have grandma wild camping somewhere during the pandemic. My friends think it is annoying and silly but quaint and sweet, nonetheless.)

They think my rides are pretty unhampered by the pandemic. I try to explain the problems with urban riding, but they think my issues with scooters and finding toilet facilities are highly amusing.

We share photos of stuff from our rides. They have scenic landscapes and wonderful old homes. I  share photos of Miami stuff. Skyline city views. Peacocks. Public art. Biscayne Bay. The reaction of these friends to things I usually dismiss as mundane and commonplace affected me in a way I hadn't expected.

To my surprise, I discovered my world was littered with little treasures. I realized I could be a bicycle tourist right here at home. No travel required. Just a change in viewpoint.

One of the many peacocks I pass on rides around Miami.

A bit of public art in a tiny park between a traffic circle and a parking lot.

The secret to a long marriage is to stay gone. (Dolly Parton)

Al and I have been together for over a half a century. Despite that, the covid-19 stay-home situation has been a bit of a challenge. Everybody needs more space than current conditions allow if they hope to emerge with sanity intact.

There is a lot to be said for a regular bicycle ride. Exercise is a stress reliever. But a bike ride that takes you out of a tiny living space and into the fresh air and sunshine for a few hours, that is a precious stress reliever.

Physical distancing is something that the people in my neighborhood are fairly conscientious about. Actually, it can be a bit spooky. We tend to avoid eye contact. We walk at the edges of the sidewalks and paths. Even when walking dogs, people take great pains to follow physical distancing rules. Runners keep their distance as they pass you, avoiding the "cough zone." It is easy to see that these things are being done automatically and unconsciously. Makes you feel like an extra in a science fiction movie.

Since traffic has virtually evaporated in many areas of the city, I am enjoying my solo bicycle rides. My favorite area this week was Wynwood. Wynwood is north of where I live, on the other side of the Miami River and Downtown Miami. Murals cover every paintable surface of the district. I wandered up and down the streets. I took a lot of photographs. Stores, galleries, bars, and clubs were closed. (Some coffee shops/cafes had window service open.) I pedaled around the surrounding neighborhoods. I literally had the place to myself. There's a lot of new construction going on in area, and there were construction guys and trucks about. There were a fair amount of homeless people camped out in quiet corners. Cars were minimal away from major streets.

Pedaling home I wandered around Downtown Miami, crossed the river back to Brickell, and then did some loops locally to finish the miles for my ride. By the time I was home my legs were happy, and I was ready to accept confinement once more.

What a difference a ride makes.

Lots of physical distancing here...

A colorful artwork on a temporary wall around a construction site.

A piece I like near Wynwood Walls.

Miami Urban Cycling During the Corona Virus Crisis

Like everyone that rides a bicycle in a city, I used to bitch about traffic. Before moving to Miami, I lived in rural areas for a lot of years. It took a while for me to get used to Miami traffic. But with the corona virus crisis, traffic volume has dropped. A lot.

While people need to stay at home, we can get out to go to the grocery or pharmacy, to walk the dog, or to go for a run or a bike ride. I'm continuing to ride my bike. Mostly by myself. Since I can get lost a half mile from home, I rely on my GPS gadgets and routes programmed into them.

At first it was great. Fewer cars really changed the mood of urban riding. But it didn't take long to realize there were some real challenges, too. No problem if you were just taking a short pedal around the neighborhood. But for a longer ride in an urban area you need places for water and bathroom breaks. (Like there aren't groves and isolated roads in Miami like in rural areas of Florida.) My breaks along my old routes were mainly at parks, marinas, and recreational facilities. Now those are posted and padlocked.

So I'm developing new routes. Ones that rely mainly on the ubiquitous Publix grocery stores for breaks. Now I could create the routes on a site like Ride with GPS, but I'm just too lazy for that method. I use Google maps on my phone to create a Publix to Publix route. Then I use the phone for GPS guidance as I ride. I wander about rather than strictly following the Google route which of course, adjusts for my detours. Then at the end of the ride if I liked the route, I save my Garmin ride data on my Garmin as a course and give it a name. Easy peasy.

I'm going to have a chance to explore parts of Miami I used to avoid because of traffic. One new thing for me, though, is that I have to remember to carry a lock or two for stops. (While I saw one cyclist pushing his bike into a Publix, I'm not planning to try that myself.)

I'm looking forward to finding out what I can see on these rides. Yesterday I wanted a not too long ride, so I started out along the Miami River with plans to head up to Wynwood to look at the murals. Instead I found myself meandering around West Flagler, then Little Havana, and then the Gables, before finally turning toward home.

There are a lot of really cool neighborhoods in Miami. I think I'll spend the next few weeks being a bicycle tourist in my own city. Should be fun. 

You can only be young once. But you can always be immature. (Dave Barry)

They say the best things come in small packages. I sure hope so. Because my big new thing for the year ahead is a little folding bike, a Brompton.

I've been thinking about this since last summer. I decided I wanted an all around errand bike for use in Miami. I use Metrorail a lot. When I take a bike, I can never find suitable bike racks at stores and offices. A Brompton handles these situations. (It even has a "shopping cart" mode!) I also wanted a travel/touring bike that would let me easily hop on trains and buses. A Brompton travels like a pro. A Brompton opens up a lot of territory for my little "running away from home on a bicycle" adventures.

I decided on a Brompton for two reasons. First, a Brompton folds faster, easier, and more compactly than other folders. Second, and a big plus for me, Brompton has a line of bike bags designed just for their bikes. Something for every purpose from commuting to touring.

Since my husband no longer shares my enthusiasm for bicycle touring, I just go solo. Some people think solo touring would be lonely or boring, but it's not.  Bicycle touring's allure is its freedom. You keep your own schedule. It's liberating. When you tour solo, there is no negotiating with your traveling companion! You make stops when you feel like it, eating or having coffee when you want. You can chat with people or enjoy solitude. And you never have to apologize for spending too much time taking photos, wandering down a back road, or changing your plans on a whim. And when you are riding a little folding bicycle like a Brompton, people go out of their way to make your aquaintaince and chat with you!

The covid-19 pandemic has complicated things, to say the least. The bike and accessories have been ordered, but they will get here when they get here. And, like everybody else, I'm doing the social distancing thing. In other words, taking it one day at a time. Which means I have time on my hands to daydream about trips I want to take on my Brompton when it finally gets here and the pandemic thing cools down.

Watch this space.

Running Away from Home on a Bicycle: A Comical Trip to the Keys

I'd planned a simple camping trip to the Keys, which was what I was expecting as I pedaled away from home. I love the quirky kitsch in the Florida Keys and finding some tacky wonders is the best part of any trip.

I knew I was going to have wind problems. I had a stiff headwind all the way from home to my first destination, a state park. And it was hot. So I was feeling great joy when I rolled up to the check in kiosk.

I parked my bike and went inside. The little check in area was exceptionally busy. I finally got to the front of the line. The ranger gave me a big smile. "OK. Got you in the area you wanted." Behind me I heard even more people filling the little room. A couple of little kids were not happy campers. "Listen, I can go drop my stuff at the site and come back in a bit to finish checking in," I said, trying to be helpful. She said that would be great, and I left her to deal with the crowd.

I headed into the park and down some footpaths to the hidden area that held some group and primitive campsites. Only it wasn't quiet like usual. I headed to the smallest group site, the one I was supposed to use. At a nearby large group site I saw a swarm of rowdy boys and a couple of adults attempting to organize the rambunctious group. I parked my bike. The adults pivoted toward me. Big smiles. They strode over and introduced themselves. The boys, it seemed, were 5th graders having an exciting adventure. The adults professed their delight in having me there. I was quickly invited to join their little group. "The boys would love to see your bike and learn all about what you're doing," they said with great enthusiasm.

I felt my eyes narrow somewhat as I scanned the milling young campers. "Sure," I replied with as neutral but polite a tone as I could muster. (Wasn't gonna happen.) "Well, got some things to do before I settle in," I said as I remounted my bike and gave them my best smile and a little wave. And I pedaled back to the check in kiosk.

I took the horde of 5th graders to be a divine sign that I should find a motel for the night. The ranger cancelled out my camping paperwork, nodding and saying she understood. I pedaled away.

Now I'm a huge fan of the older tourist motels that line the Overseas Highway. I have favorites. Pedal, pedal, pedal. I stopped at a couple, trying to negotiate rates. (It is still the season, after all, and prices are sky high.) Finally I rolled into a place I really love. They had several vacancies, all cottages designed for families. But they had one small unit, and we were able to negotiate a price that was quite reasonable. It was a vintage RV, set on a kitschy foundation. The interior had been attractively remodeled to make it a cute little cottage.

I settled in, went to the office for a kayak paddle, and headed to the beach. I didn't bother with a swimsuit, my bike kit would do just fine. I spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out with a bunch of Canadian tourists who were using the kayaks and paddle boards. As I walked back to the office with one of the Canadians, both of us carrying our paddles, a woman passed us. "How was the water?" she asked. "Wet," we replied in unison and laughed.

I loved my little RV. It was spacious and comfortable, a nice base for biking the area. But it was time to move on to my next destination. I fired up the weather app on my phone. Bad news. A front was rolling through. There was a line of serious rain. Followed by a wind shift, a big increase in wind, and a big drop in temperature. I made two plans, then went to bed. I'd go with the plan that seemed the most sensible in the morning.

In the morning I packed the bike and moved it to the big tiki hut that serves as the coffee/breakfast/TV area for the motel. There I met two couples who had their boats moored nearby. We huddled over the weather. There was a bit over an hour before a fast moving line of heavy rain rolled through. Then there was about a 1 1/2 to 2 hour window where I could have a big tailwind if I headed back toward Miami. (After that the wind shifted and became a headwind.) Then the wind really kicked up in the Keys. The boaters gathered their things and headed to their boats. I settled in with coffee and TV and waited for the rain to come and go. (It poured.) I had decided to head back to Miami.

When the rain stopped, I pointed the bike toward home, really enjoying the tailwind. Right on schedule, the wind shifted from a tailwind to a headwind. Bummer.

When I finally got home, I realized I had not taken a real stop on the whole trip home. I straddled the bike for snack breaks. I was wearing my 3 liter camelback so I never stopped for water. I even had an espresso, thanks to a Starbucks canned espresso from my handlebar bag, sipped while straddling the bike on a snack break. Final fun fact: (drumroll, please) it was my longest ride of the year on my slow fat tire bike.

Not the trip I had planned. Not what I was expecting. But I had a wonderful time.

And I can't wait to do it again.

Titusville

We wanted a few days of biking in an area that was new to us. We decided to give Titusville a try. Why?

• It's an easy 3 1/4 hour drive north of Miami via I-95.
• Trails. We've been reading about the trails in the area, but we hadn't given them a try yet.
• Merritt Island. It is right across a fun bridge over the intercoastal from downtown Titusville.
• Lots of cycling routes are available on Ride with GPS. (Inland routes though the refuges, wildlife sanctuaries, and forests; coastal routes; and loops through Merritt Island.)

We picked an inland route through the refuges and wildlife sanctuaries for the first day's ride. The GPS route let us navigate through the quiet streets of residential neighborhoods as it linked the highways that wandered through the conservation areas west of Titusville. A very satisfying 60 mile ride.

The second day we picked a loop that used both the SJR2C (St. Johns River to Sea) and ECRRT (East Central Regional Rail Trail) cycle paths before swinging over to Merritt Island and a return to Titusville. Fabulous trails, much lovelier in my estimation than the busy urban trails in Orlando, Tampa, and Inverness that we've ridden so often over the years.

We will be back!

Inland ride

Trail

Trail

We liked this restaurant so much we ate breakfast there three days running!