Commuting by bicycle exposes the rider to many sights and sounds. My little 2-mile ride to work didn't fail to deliver on this cloudy Friday, either.
After last night's prevailing thunderstorms, J and I anticipated a small breakfast on the bridge—our weekly tradition with Q and C. As we approached our friends, I noticed a few police cars on Riverfront Parkway by Ross' Landing. We sipped our coffee and also noticed two emergency vehicles parked blocking traffic on the Market Street bridge.
It must be a jumper, we concluded, describing past jumpers from the Walnut St. bridge and Olgiati.
Only hours later would I realize, after hearing a co-worker's witness of the woman who jumped from the bridge at about 8:10 this morning, that I witnessed a suicide.
I had spotted a piece of red material floating under Market and asked if dead bodies floated. A few policemen were watching the red as well.
"They do for a little while," my friend said.
The coast guard (river cops?) boat didn't arrive till about 8:30. That piece of red was a body.
I rode on to work, not thinking much of it at the time. There have been two other deaths in the past weeks that hit "closer" to home than anticipated. This one most certainly was the closest.
Showing posts with label Walnut St.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walnut St.. Show all posts
Friday, May 21, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Everything Grows With Love
I believe it's a good sign that so many of my past posts have documented exciting cycling news in Chattanooga. This post also boasts more excellent events.
While rumors had been circulating about the impending reopening of Walnut Street Bridge, our local contractors pulled through and opened the bridge this morning as J and I rolled to Breakfast on the Bridge.
Colleen not only captured our interesting visitors, but she also did a "play-by-play" (roll by roll?) of the actual opening. The new planks are quite pretty—someone mentioned they have a chemical-ly smell, but I was cruising too fast and talking too much to notice this morning.
A cyclo-tourist let me try out his sling chair at breakfast!
(Photo by Colleen)
My little blurb about the reopening is on Chattarati—and check the editorial commentary on their homepage. There I am! Twice! After a year of writing and practically no bylines, I'm ecstatic to be writing about one of my passions on the innarwebs.
After the eventful morning, I did a thorough cleaning of every room in my house but the kitchen. (It's easy, and I'm saving it for last—or for "someone special," if you catch my drift. He's good at that room). I was inspired to clean by my neighbors upstairs. They moved back in a few months ago and their apartment is totally transformed! My neighbor had just put a sign up on her porch that said "Everything grows with love." While I'm not typically one to take note of those cutesy signs, this one seemed so fitting.
My house doesn't look fantastic from the street—in fact, it's quite ugly. Big white abestos siding (really? no wonder I don't have a lease!) covers the whole thing, and it looks like someone closed off the upstairs front porch many years ago and installed tiny, disgusting windows. But in the eight and a half months I've lived here, this apartment has grown on me, and I have grown into my apartment, "giving it love, paint, bicyles and furnishings.
The neighbors (well, most of them) have been so caring and kind. We all maintain relatively quiet lives, and we go about our day with few crashes, bangs and yells. I consider the drama to be considerably lower than past apartments. Most impressive though is the inside of the apartments. While they're mostly identical, each one is different and tells a different story. My floors are not nearly as pretty as upstairs; next door, a rigged "stacked" washer and dryer gets the trick done; and upstairs, a porch backs up to the cool, dark hill, away from the noise of the street.
Yesterday on my way home I saw a Tea Party gathering in Coolidge Park. The new house next door to us had put his "Don't Tread On Me" flag out. I was quite upset and disgusted till a friend walked by. I told him about the Tea Party down the street. He replied, "So? What's that?" And his who-cares attitude brought me back down to earth. Political parties aren't good or bad. They just are. To add emotion to the fire, well, only fuels the fire, raises my blood pressues and accomplishes very little.
What matters to me is that my friends and I restarted our weekly morning commuter breakfasts. Regardless of political persuasion, my writing is finally hitting a regular local blog, and I'm writing about cycling and improving access to transportation. I live in a highly walkable neighborhood, and I live by kind neighbors with whom I have mutual respect, and who care about similar things I do.
Political rallies, as emotional as they are, can't access my front porch or ruin my commute, or even my mood. Because with love, my passions will grow. And that is all I could ever ask for.
While rumors had been circulating about the impending reopening of Walnut Street Bridge, our local contractors pulled through and opened the bridge this morning as J and I rolled to Breakfast on the Bridge.
Colleen not only captured our interesting visitors, but she also did a "play-by-play" (roll by roll?) of the actual opening. The new planks are quite pretty—someone mentioned they have a chemical-ly smell, but I was cruising too fast and talking too much to notice this morning.
(Photo by Colleen)
My little blurb about the reopening is on Chattarati—and check the editorial commentary on their homepage. There I am! Twice! After a year of writing and practically no bylines, I'm ecstatic to be writing about one of my passions on the innarwebs.
After the eventful morning, I did a thorough cleaning of every room in my house but the kitchen. (It's easy, and I'm saving it for last—or for "someone special," if you catch my drift. He's good at that room). I was inspired to clean by my neighbors upstairs. They moved back in a few months ago and their apartment is totally transformed! My neighbor had just put a sign up on her porch that said "Everything grows with love." While I'm not typically one to take note of those cutesy signs, this one seemed so fitting.
My house doesn't look fantastic from the street—in fact, it's quite ugly. Big white abestos siding (really? no wonder I don't have a lease!) covers the whole thing, and it looks like someone closed off the upstairs front porch many years ago and installed tiny, disgusting windows. But in the eight and a half months I've lived here, this apartment has grown on me, and I have grown into my apartment, "giving it love, paint, bicyles and furnishings.
The neighbors (well, most of them) have been so caring and kind. We all maintain relatively quiet lives, and we go about our day with few crashes, bangs and yells. I consider the drama to be considerably lower than past apartments. Most impressive though is the inside of the apartments. While they're mostly identical, each one is different and tells a different story. My floors are not nearly as pretty as upstairs; next door, a rigged "stacked" washer and dryer gets the trick done; and upstairs, a porch backs up to the cool, dark hill, away from the noise of the street.
Yesterday on my way home I saw a Tea Party gathering in Coolidge Park. The new house next door to us had put his "Don't Tread On Me" flag out. I was quite upset and disgusted till a friend walked by. I told him about the Tea Party down the street. He replied, "So? What's that?" And his who-cares attitude brought me back down to earth. Political parties aren't good or bad. They just are. To add emotion to the fire, well, only fuels the fire, raises my blood pressues and accomplishes very little.
What matters to me is that my friends and I restarted our weekly morning commuter breakfasts. Regardless of political persuasion, my writing is finally hitting a regular local blog, and I'm writing about cycling and improving access to transportation. I live in a highly walkable neighborhood, and I live by kind neighbors with whom I have mutual respect, and who care about similar things I do.
Political rallies, as emotional as they are, can't access my front porch or ruin my commute, or even my mood. Because with love, my passions will grow. And that is all I could ever ask for.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Fun Friday Facts
I've been buzzing with activity since I walked out the door this morning.
My friends who provide cyclists, commuters and walkers with breakfast on the bridge adjourned for the first breakfast of 2010. Four or five of us chatted at the south end of the Walnut St. Bridge over two thermoses of coffee, the highly celebrated cheese Danishes and Q's organic, free-range, super delicious apple cinnamon muffins. Meanwhile some construction-looking folks looked at us with a cocked head—especially me, in what C deemed my GPS-lookalike outfit—as we convened over our morning delicacies.
Outdoor Chattanooga also provides a Bike to Work breakfast the first Friday of every month. During warm months, we usually meet at the end of the walking bridge. With the closure of the bridge and the onset of cold weather, however, we were forced into the luxurious OC building in Coolidge Park.
At recent Bike to Work meetings, and now the every-Friday Breakfast on the Bridge, the hot topic has been the re-opening of the Walnut Street Bridge. Sadly, it's been closed for resurfacing and renovations since December and is scheduled to re-open in May. My fellow commuters and I have mourned the loss of this safe, efficient and FUN ride across the river. The bridge not only serves as a safe pedestrian route but is a nice place to take in the beauty of the river, mountains and city. All that—from one spot!
In other commuter news, Chattarati is going to post my response to Chattanooga's designation from Bicycling magazine! Will link with more information soon.
Tomorrow, come out to Outdoor Chattanooga and Coolidge Park for the outdoor expo, gear swap and Green Festival. Then at 4:30, hop on your trusty steeds and ride out to Moccasin Bend Brewing for the start of Tour de Brews, an event that combines my two favorite things—beer and bicycles!
I'm looking forward to a full, sunny spring weekend. Hello, Friday. Thank goodness you're here.
My friends who provide cyclists, commuters and walkers with breakfast on the bridge adjourned for the first breakfast of 2010. Four or five of us chatted at the south end of the Walnut St. Bridge over two thermoses of coffee, the highly celebrated cheese Danishes and Q's organic, free-range, super delicious apple cinnamon muffins. Meanwhile some construction-looking folks looked at us with a cocked head—especially me, in what C deemed my GPS-lookalike outfit—as we convened over our morning delicacies.
Outdoor Chattanooga also provides a Bike to Work breakfast the first Friday of every month. During warm months, we usually meet at the end of the walking bridge. With the closure of the bridge and the onset of cold weather, however, we were forced into the luxurious OC building in Coolidge Park.
At recent Bike to Work meetings, and now the every-Friday Breakfast on the Bridge, the hot topic has been the re-opening of the Walnut Street Bridge. Sadly, it's been closed for resurfacing and renovations since December and is scheduled to re-open in May. My fellow commuters and I have mourned the loss of this safe, efficient and FUN ride across the river. The bridge not only serves as a safe pedestrian route but is a nice place to take in the beauty of the river, mountains and city. All that—from one spot!
In other commuter news, Chattarati is going to post my response to Chattanooga's designation from Bicycling magazine! Will link with more information soon.
Tomorrow, come out to Outdoor Chattanooga and Coolidge Park for the outdoor expo, gear swap and Green Festival. Then at 4:30, hop on your trusty steeds and ride out to Moccasin Bend Brewing for the start of Tour de Brews, an event that combines my two favorite things—beer and bicycles!
I'm looking forward to a full, sunny spring weekend. Hello, Friday. Thank goodness you're here.
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