Not long ago I was riding my bike along a path in the park near my house and I came upon a turned over shopping cart. It appears to have been someone's "home." It had some shirts, socks, pants and a couple of pairs of underwear as well as a sleeping bag. There were a couple of plastic tubs if different shapes and sizes. And a wash board. Where do you even get a wash board?

There was also some food, a very old, dried up banana and some other things that appeared to have been food at one time.

The best laid plans and a bagel

First of all, there's nothing, nothing like a straight-from-the-oven, never frozen, just made New York bagel. This morning it was an everything bagel - that's everything: salt, onion, poppyseed, sesame seed, and sometimes even a raisin or two. It was steaming hot. Crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. No butter or cream cheese needed--they would be redundant.

Then I decided to ride to Brooklyn to go to my friend Brad's church. I decided to ride through Central Park and do the loop a couple of times since I had time. It is a great loop, about 5 miles around and full of hills. Just at the end of my second loop, I heard a pop. I just though a rock hit the bike. But then something felt funny and my back tire was all wobbly. So, I had to find a bike shop, not an easy thing before 10:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning.

And thanks to the lovely Metropolitan Transit Authority, the trains were all messed up and I had to go the wrong way for about ten stops before I could cross over and go the right way, all the while carrying my bike. up and down the stairs and on and off the trains. And the whole time I'm sure people are looking at me thinking, "Why's he got his bike on the train on such a beautiful day."

I finally got to my bike shop just as they were opening and they put on two new spokes and trued up the wheel. And I stepped out of the store and just as if it were for me, a big clap of thunder, a bolt of lightning and it started to pour. And that's all I have to say about that.

The blind man stood on the road and . . .

Last night I rode my bike to work. I left at about 10:15 p.m. and it takes me about an hour when it is dark out.

I have a blinking, red light on the back of my helmet in addition to the very bright headlight on the handlebar.

As I came out the gate of my apartment, I saw to men standing at the corner with their big Labradors, a yellow and a chocolate, the two dogs sniffing each other, though not the men, as far as I could tell. I got on my bike and headed toward the corner and I realized that I didn’t remember if I had turned on the blinker on the back of my helmet. Not wanting to get off the bike and take off the helmet to check, I slowed and said to the man on the corner with the yellow Lab, “Excuse me, can you tell me if the light on the back of my helmet is blinking?”

“I’m blind,” he said, “this is my guide dog.”

But he was jolly about it, “I’d like to help you,” he said with a chuckle.

I said, “Of all people for me to ask, right?”

Just my bicycle and me

I've never been known for being daring and aggressive. When I was a toddler, my parents entered me with my new tricycle in the tricycle race at the company picnic of Paoli Chair Factory where my dad worked. I can't say that I remember it but evidently I was so proud of myself on my new vehicle that I thought the race was about being seen and not winning. I hear that I rode casually along with a big smile wanting everyone to see me. Some things never change.

We grew up on bikes. In the summertime it seemed like we lived on the road. I guess traffic wasn't what it is now or maybe we just didn't think about it much. No helmets. It was also in the days when we didn't wear seat belts in cars. So I suppose we've just become more safety conscious. Incidentally, I won't even go around the block without my helmet. I figure the day I do is the day I finally have the big accident.

So when I moved to New York City, first to Brooklyn, I found this great bike path that ran along the harbor out to Coney Island. I bought a cheap Huffy and loved riding. On Saturdays I would even ride all the way up to Central Park and ride the loop through it.

It didn't take long to learn the ins and outs of biking in NYC. First of all, you have to spend almost $100 on a lock that will actually prevent theft. I only learned that after three stolen bikes. Also, sometimes even a securely locked bicycle isn't safe. One day I came out of work to find that apparently an elephant had taken a seat on my bike. I later learned that the bike rack where I parked was next to a loading dock and sometimes the trucks backed up on the sidewalk.

I also learned a lot of lessons the hard way. Even if you're only going 5 mph and you're not paying attention and the cab in front of you stops, it still hurts when you hit it. A lot. The day you don't ride your bike to work is the day that there will be a blackout all over the Eastern Seaboard and you'll be walking the 12 miles home instead of riding. If it looks like it is going to rain and you decide to ride anyway, it will certainly rain. A lot. If it normally takes you 40 minutes to ride to work but the wind is blowing against you, you will be late. Cars do not pay attention and the will turn across the bike path in front of you. And you will have to make a sudden jerk to not hit them and it will hurt. A lot. And you will swear at them. A lot.

I typically don't ride much on the city streets. There is a 12 mile bike path along the Hudson River from the top of Manhattan, where I live, to the bottom of Manhattan, where I work. But on occasion, I've been known to ride down Broadway through Times Square just for the thrill. I've gone up First Avenue in rush hour traffic.

This is where being daring and aggressive comes in. I'd say daring is still not smart but I think it takes a bit of daring to ride in New York City. But it is aggressive that is important. I learned that you have to be aggressive. The cabbies can tell if you're timid. You have to take your share of the street and let them know that you know you have as much right to be there as they do.

You also have to obey the traffic laws. I learned that the hard way. One day I safely ran two red lights in a row. It took me several blocks to realize that that siren was for me. $200 and points on my driver's license later, I no longer run red lights. Most of the time.

Biking in New York City is almost always exhilarating. I love it.

One more thing I've learned. If you wear those tight biker shorts (which I do because you kind of have to when you ride as much as I do), people always look down there, men and women. It is like there eyes are drawn to see if they can see something. Did I just get vulgar? Sorry. Anyway, I try to carry an extra pair of "normal" shorts to throw on over my bike shorts but sometimes, there just isn't time.

Rats!

I'm told that rats outnumber people 8 to 1 in New York City. That would make approximately 64 million rats here. I see them all the time. In a way, you get used to them in the subway tunnels. I see a lot of them when I ride my bike to work at night along the Hudson River. I've actually run over some of them. But in another way, you never get used to them and they give everyone the creeps.

A few weeks ago as I was walking home one night, I passed a building about a block from where I live. It was a Sunday night and it looked like the tenants' garbage bins were full so they had just started putting it on the street. As I walked by I saw rats. Not one or two, but more like one or two dozen. I just went on my way with a shiver up my spine. A little too close for comfort and I live on a ground floor.

A few nights later I walked by there again and they were still there. So I decided it was time to do something. I called 311. 311 is the non-emergency version of 911. You can use it for everything from complaining about a noisy neighbor to asking what day to put out your recyclables. I called and explained to the nice lady that there were more than a dozen rats outside this building scurrying about and that there was garbage all over the sidewalk.

I did this every day for a week. I called and reported what I was seeing. About two weeks after my first report, I noticed that there were new bins outside that building and that the superintendent of the building was working like crazy cleaning up. I had never seen him outside before.

I haven't seen a rat since and I'm taking credit for getting rid of them.