New York Stories: The Cold Wait. Brooklyn, NYC 2005

20th Avenue Station, N Train, Brooklyn

So, Craigslist was the reason I was here. You know, that online classified ads website of sorts where you can scrounge, virtually, other people's unwanted belongings. It's a huge garage sale on the net.  Some dude just posted on CL (that's Craigslist to you!), selling his 135mm 3.5 Carl Zeiss Jena, a lens that I have always drooled about, for 50 bucks. Now that price is ridiculous - it's a steal I tell you! I do have a passion for old camera lenses - especially those European ones in M42 screw mount. What's not to like? These babies have excellent glass, wonderfully calculated optics, are built like tanks (and weigh like one too), can be bought for cheap if you are lucky (hey they are old lenses and I'm a cheapskate) and best of all, they can be used on modern Canon DSLR's if you have an appropriate lens-to-body adapter and are fond of focusing your lens manually. But I am going off tangent here immensely.

To cut a long story short, I didn't get the lens. That shyster sold it to another guy who probably ran down the middle of 20th Avenue in Brooklyn holding the prized lens up high like it were an Olympic torch. He sold it an hour before I arrived in Brooklyn, after I took a circuitous route from my place in Queens, switching trains twice in the process. What a schmuck, he had me wasting an hour of my time in the subway seated across a wino who kept staring back at me (this was New York after all). 

Dejected (read: pissed), I walked back to the station , gloved hands in my pockets to keep those digits warm, the hood of my parka encapsulating my head to hedge my head from the frigid February wind. On the way I passed a pizza joint, got a slice, folded it in half lengthwise, and wolfed it down my throat, washing it down with a can of Coke. Somewhat satiated, I went back to the Subway station, got out my MetroCard and swiped it to get past the turnstile, no mean feat with thick gloves on. 

I descended down to the platform, and that's when I saw this gem of a scene. Three backlit human figures each with a post of their own. They were sheltering themselves from the wind, that's why they had their backs to the post. It was if the photographic universe aligned for me - a Latino, an Eastern European, and an Oriental all in a row  in a subway no less - all donned in Gotham black - with the train coming in seconds - you just can't get more New York than that. They were stoic, immobile, like those gargoyles perched on a brownstone in Broadway, and the only sign that they were alive was the cold fog of breath ballooning from their mouths as they exhale.

I took out my camera, powered it up, peeled off my right glove to be more tactile at the controls and made this shot, with the right sleeve of my parka obscuring the upper right corner of the frame. I just managed one shot when the train arrived, the doors flung open and the gargoyles became alive, lithely entering the warm cabin where they became human again. In seconds the doors closed and the train made its way forward (leaving me as I bent to retrieve my right glove, which fell on the floor), its massive hulk pulling away until it disappeared into a dot. And I was alone, the immobility passed on to me as I stood on the cold platform.

And then it struck me. Wouldn't it be cool if one of the three was the one who purchased my Carl Zeiss Jena? 

Shot was taken with a Canon G6, at the hip using the swiveling screen for framing. Av mode set at -2/3 EV, lens set at hyperfocal focus. Brooklyn, New York, February 2005

New York Stories: The Kiss

Mid-Manhattan, New York City July 2008. Canon 1d Mk2/17-40L

On an afternoon when the heavens were brooding and threatening to drench everything in Manhattan, a yellow cab skidded to a halt outside a glistening sidewalk, just a bagel's throw away from Grand Central Station. The rear door flung open and an old lady piled out, straight to the rear compartment where she started to haul out a dog-eared wheeled duffel bag, clearly on its last days of travel. A man in his thirties got out as well and helped the lady who just shrugged and let him heave the bag down to the sidewalk. And finally an umbrella mushroomed over the cab as a young woman stepped out and closed the door, and the cab sped off in search of another fare. 

The old lady grabbed the bag from the guy and dragged it behind her like a belligerent puppy, its wheels squealing in oil-less protest, towards the entrance of the station. The young couple, free for a fleeting moment, turned towards each other and under the shadow of their umbrella they kissed, tentatively at first and after the first peck it turned into one that you know was the kind of kiss that belied the fact that they would not see each other for a while and turned into a massive longing hug that no doubt left them both feel that there were no other people in the universe but them two. Time stopped for what seemed an eternity.

And then they parted, the fellow left standing on the sidewalk while the two ladies entered the portal on the right which was a passage that leads to the subway that can take them anywhere in the city, or to Grand Central Station where trains can bring them to nearby New Jersey, Connecticut or Boston, or a ticket counter where one can purchase fare for shuttle that will take them to JFK airport. He stood still on the sidewalk, long after the ladies were gone,  as stiff as a bookmark that separates two chapters, and the rain began to pelt him until it masked the tears that were shed. It was goodbye.

I love New York City, where even mundane events in ordinary people's lives lead to open ended stories.

Photo taken with a Canon 1Dmk2 with a 17-40L lens, at 17mm, AV mode with -2/3 exposure

Bicycling: Riding In Rain: Some Tips.

Rain pummeling us. That's me on the far left! photo by Ethel Fortuno

There we were, heading home from a ride to the uphills of Antipolo and back. It was sunny and quite hot the whole morning, leaving us sweating buckets. It was the kind of heat that you know is a precursor to a downpour. And what a downpour it was that greeted us.

We were at UP Diliman campus, around three kilometers away from home when the sky turned, in a matter of minutes, from glaringly bright to melancholic grey.  We quickly drank up our fruit shakes (hey it was hot remember?) and pedaled furiously at first, in the foolish hope of reaching home dry. But to no avail - the deluge was upon us in minutes.

The heavens opened up, first enveloping us with darkness while sending a colloidal suspension of haze. Soon we were softly sprinkled with drizzle, which turned into sharp darts of raindrops, and finally an angry downpour was under way. Our two companions, Arnie and Miel donned raincoats; Ethel and I on the other hand just shirted it out.

I love riding in the rain. The raindrops make a racket as they carom off my helmet, collecting into rivulets which cascaded down my face, gliding down my tongue where I can taste it. My shirt, shorts and sandals were slowly getting drenched - soon my underwear was breached and every singe square inch of my skin was wet, seemingly immersed as I pedaled over the glistening road. Therein may lie the reason why I enjoy riding in a downpour - is it some primordial longing to be back in the safety of my mother's womb, where I was nursed, comforted, sustained and enveloped in protective amniotic fluid? Does being drenched this way remind me of a safe place where I came into being?

Perhaps, but truth be told I was simply having fun. Riding in the rain really inconveniences one during the first minute of a storm - after that you might as well enjoy it because you can't really do anything about it. Call it the Stockholm Syndrome of cyclists. Resistance is futile. And so there we were, pedaling that final couple of kilometers with our front tires making a wake through the sheet of water on the road, with pregnant raindrops bouncing off the hoods of cars and jeepneys and making fleeting crater holes in puddles. I felt no misery at all - in fact, the whole experience made me feel so very much alive. The passing storm soon ended and we were left standing at the end of our journey dripping wet, with smiles that belied the wish that the soaking ride never ended.

My non-biking friends (my version of muggles) think I am: crazy to bike in Manila, have something wrong in the head when I ride long distances, and downright demented when I bike in heavy downpours. Well maybe I am, but don't put me in a straightjacket as I won't be able to hold the handlebars!

RAIN RIDING TIPS:

1. Make Sure Your Gear is Protected. Put your electronic gear and clothes and whatnot in waterproof plastic bags and seal it well. I recommend using dry sacks, which are basically roll-up sealing waterproof stuff sacks, and they come in all sizes and colors, available in your favorite outdoor shops.  If you are fond of getting caught in the rain (and if you bike long distances, sooner or later you will), invest in waterproof gear - watch, phone, camera. They cost more but are worth it.
2. Go Slow. The road might be slippery, more so during the initial downpour as the rain lifts a film of oil on the surface of the roads. You might be careful and predictable, but other road users may not be as visibility plummets. Also, potholes and road cracks lurk under those puddles, and you will use your knees or nose as a brake if you hit one at speed. I know because it happened to me! Get into the habit of memorizing potholes and other road imperfections on your favorite routes. Thus will come in handy when water puddles and hides them.
3. Be Visible. Wear light colored clothing - neon colors in particular pierce the mist and announce themselves. If you have blinkers and lights, turn them on. This will alert motorists that you are out there. Wear a reflective vest if you have it.
4. Fender Up! When it rains, you can easily tell who a cyclist is by the stripe on his back. This stripe is composed of road grit and grime thrown up by the whirling wheels, coaxing the dirt from the wet road onto your back, and sometimes your front too. This frit will also mess up your bike. especially that bottom bracket cluster area that is so hard to clean.   Solve this by installing fenders on your bike, and go for the robust full-coverage ones like those made by SKS for maximum protection. The wimpy ones that cover a mere portion of the tire? Well let's just say it's an exercise in futility and you are better off spending your money on a cup of coffee.
5. Don Raingear or Not? This is a matter of choice. Here in the tropics, I prefer not to wear raingear, allowing myself to get drenched with my ordinary attire. Wearing a raincoat just traps the sweat you generate and you get soaked in it anyway. During rest stops, I wear a light windbreaker to keep my core temperature stable, and I take it off when I ride again. It is important to keep your core temperature high to ward off sickness. While biking, this is kept high through muscular activity, but this will plummet when you rest. So have a light jacket ready to wear during those stops.
         There are times though when wearing a raincoat is ideal, such as when the temperature is low and cold and if you are not exerting too much effort that your elevated body heat is not enough to dispel the cold. Those cheap light disposable raincoats are alright in an emergency but some are so flimsy that they tear easily, resulting in unnecessary landfill. This is not an environmentally sound practice. Most of these coats though do not have vents at all, and may result in getting you wet from your own sweat as it cannot evaporate away from your skin. What you need is a coat that is waterproof, and has some sort of venting feature such as a front zipper and a vent at the back or a somewhat loose tail. This will eject moisture laden air away from your body and keep you cool and dry. Consider using a poncho, as this allows air circulation and a big plus is that you can wear your bag under it and keep it dry.
6. Deflate Your Tires a Bit.  A softer tire has more contact with the road. The larger contact patch gives you a bit more traction. Deflating your tires by 5 to 10 psi from the normal pressure gives you a bit more control but less speed. Hey you shouldn't be going fast anyway.
7. Rinse Your Bike. Your bike will accumulate road grit for sure. It will cake and harden when it dries up, so rinse it out while it is easy to take off. Bounce your bike on its heels to shed off excess water.
8. Medication/Supplements.  To ward off sickness and increase resistance after a ride I take 2 Vitamin C capsules of 500 mgs each. This works for me as it wards off colds and other respiratory ailments. If you pass through dirty floodwaters and especially if you have an open wound, some doctors recommend taking a 200 mg tablet of Doxycycline, to help prevent the onset of leptospirosis, which is a nasty condition that you wouldn't want to get, trust me. It is a bacterial infection borne by floods as it contacts animal waste. Taking this single dose will protect you up to a week, even if taken post-exposure.
9. Change Thy Clothes. When you get to your destination, towel down quickly(a microfleece towel is handy here) or take a quick shower the  change to clean dry clothes. 
10. Things To Watch Out For:
Rainbows - not in the sky, but on the road surface. This indicates that there is a thin layer of oil there, and it might be slippery.
Your Brake Pads - Wet weather stirs up road grit, and they get everywhere, inside your shirt, at your back, on your bike frame, and where it does the most damage, your brake pads. When you brake the grit acts like sandpaper, wearing down your pads and rims. Water these from time to time to get rid of grit, and cleanse after the ride.
Painted Lines - Those road markings are slippery when wet. Try not to bike on them.
Metal and Brick Surfaces - Are likewise slippery. When you cross grates, manhole covers, train tracks, keep you handlebars straight.
Your Chain - Use a heavier chain lube, as the lighter ones get washed away quickly, making your chain easier to rust.
Your Braking - It takes a longer distance to brake, so anticipate, brake earlier.
11. The Rain Bike. If you ride regularly in the rain, consider getting a rain bike. This is a beater bike that you don't mind getting wet most of the time, and this will spare your fancier bikes from grit and rain.


Riding in the rain is a necessary skill for those who bike a lot. It is also an overwhelming experience, as one submits totally to the elements, pummeled by cold and dampness and misery. It is during these times that I oddly feel so alive and much more appreciative of sunny days. Besides, we are human beings, and are designed to get wet once in a while. Have fun and be safe everyone!

Photos by Ethel and Pio Fortuno Jr. Camera used was a waterproof Nikon AW100. It is highly menu-dependent so it takes a while to learn how to eke out creative control, but you can wear it on your neck while biking the whole day without worrying that it will get wet. Highly recommended.

Rain Warriors Miel, Arnie and Ethel, all members of Tiklop Society of the Philippines. photo by Pio Fortuno Jr.

New York Stories: Dog Drenched Afternoon

In what seems like another lifetime now, I used to walk the streets of Manhattan like a ghost, pretending to be invisible as I hunted for the perfect street shot. I'd like to imagine that I had some remnant DNA of Bresson and Winogrand coursing through my veins and this set me in the mood as I trudged the glistening sidewalks of New York City with a trusty camera in  hand.

This shot was taken on August 11, 2006, at York Avenue in Upper East Side Manhattan, NYC. It was a gloomy drizzling day when this dogwalker brushed past me towing a gaggle of drenched dogs, all decked in fashionable raingear which probably cost more than my pants (this was Upper East Side after all). They trudged grudgingly behind their erstwhile master with the enthusiasm of Tom Sawyer when told to whitewash a fence. I couldn't blame the poor dogs as it was chilly and damp and they had to step into murky oiled puddles and such. After I took the shot, they strode away into the gloom, looking like a reluctant urban Scylla (you know that multi-headed sea monster that shares top billing with Charybdis) struggling to find a place to poop and pee.

I was curious as to how much a dogwalker makes so I interviewed a Brazillian friend who has such a job in the same area. He said that it is $25 per half hour, per dog, and one has to take them for a walk, let them do their thing, keep them happy, etc. Now the dogwalker in the photo had 6 dogs in tow, and let's say she does that for an hour - that's $300 right there. She might have 2 or 3 such groups in a day, I leave you to do the math and whoah... that's serious money right there. I should have ditched my camera and purchased some dog leashes instead.

Photo taken with a Canon G6 compact camera, held at waist level made possible by the articulating screen. Shot at Av mode with -2/3 exposure compensation, RAW file played around somewhat in PhotoShop.