Cycling Claremont, Safer at Home Edition: 42nd Street Bagel

I can remember a time when they were daily. Now (now being most of the year thus far), rides have become weekly things, and that ain't good, my friends. Heck, just riding back up Mills is becoming more difficult. Some of that (today at least) may have been due to the Buff over my nose and mouth - I didn't want to breathe heavily while passing the numerous pedestrians in the street, so I kept it on - but a considerable portion of that "difficulty" can, I am convinced, be attributed to my diminishing level of riding fitness.

Ah, well...

The gravel bike turned into a simple errand bike this morning. I felt like having something a little different for breakfast and saw an opportunity to support another local business - 42nd Street Bagel; their bagel conEGGtions have long been a favored part of a trip to the Village during the A.M. hours. In gloves and masks and pleas to please wait outside after ordering, they were very appreciative of the support during this time.

Like pretty much everywhere, I imagine, it is so eerily quiet around town these days, a necessary reality. People pass one another with wide berths, but still manage to say hello, good morning, have a good day. I see a few people maintaining their yards with trimmers and mowers; others must do the same when I am not around to notice. Streets really do look like they belong to people, not cars. Handfuls of businesses serve their loyal customers who shuffle back to their homes. Other than a lone homeless woman in front of the doors of Rhino Records, no one lingers in one spot for long. Yellow tape wrapping playground equipment at schools and parks flutter in the breeze. Birds find a new boldness, perching where they couldn't before, wondering where everyone has gone.

only a couple other riders out and about

leaving the Village - so quiet back there

even Foothill feels abandoned

settling in back home to watch the French Divide #4, thanks to Bikepacker.com