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"F$%#@ing bikers, beautiful day for a bike ride!" 11 September 2010 |
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email me at dieffenbach @ alum.mit.edu I rode a new loop with a friend on this beautiful memorial morning: Hingham, Scituate, Hull, and back. We clicked in around 8am from Hingham High School for a short stint down Union street into Wompatuck State Park. By the third mile, the only climb of any note graced our figurative rear view mirrors. Perhaps distracted by the gorgeous leafy views, we missed the left onto Clapp Road and instead found ourselves on Mt. Blue Street and eventually Route 123. The penalty was slight--only a stretch of busier streets than we would otherwise have ridden, although at that relatively early hour they weren't all that bad. Recognizing 123, I knew that we'd cross 3A at the rotary and make the swing into Scituate from the south. This first bit of the ride echoed the drive into Hingham from Boston sprinkled with a wrong turn or two--my normal map and direction savvy was for whatever reason not on display. Scituate Harbor saw us back on track, though, and we made our way north along the coast into a moderate headwind. If you haven't experienced this part of the South Shore, or if you've only done so by car, grab your bike and a sunny day and go--highly recommended. With a time constraint on the back end (error on my part setting my Blackberry alarm--apparently I was having a bad time AND space day), we skipped the North Scituate Beach mini-loop and continued on up spectacular Atlantic Avenue. Towns such as Chatham, Edgartown, and Marblehead may get the ink, but this region holds its own with any of the those elites. We headed past Nantasket Beach on the peninsula out to the tip of Hull and its iconic windmill, but time in mind, saved the latter for another day and u-turned back towards Hingham. Having just crossed 3A on Kilby Street, we came to the intersection with Summer Street. As we neared with the right of way in our possession, a car on the cross street came to a halt at the stop sign on our right. Since we didn't pose any different obstacle than had we been in a car, we were a bit surprised to hear the man behind the wheel yell out, "F$%#@ing bikers!" plus some other muttered utterance as we cycled past and quickly cleared the intersection. The day was far too pretty to let this blip intrude, but we were nonetheless lifted as we just minutes later passed a group of three clean-cut tween-aged boys skateboarding towards us on the sidewalk to our right. "Beautiful day for a bike ride!" one yelled, and we had all the fuel we needed to cruise the last mile or so back to the start. I may have been a bit lost this morning, but those boys certainly weren't--thanks, boys, for setting me back on my way. |