Hydrant valves attach directly to the water main, far below the frost line, which means the hydrant itself should be dry when it’s not in use; the ice reveals a nasty valve leak. The corroded paint suggests a longstanding leak, but I admit to not noticing anything before now.
I uploaded the picture so I could include the URL in an email to the local fire department. I’ll take a look the next time we walk by to see what’s happened.
If it’s not them, then it’s somebody following their example.
Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should … but, of course, the ordinary rules apply only to little people, not public servants.
Someone in the bike advocacy apparat once told me I’m the most cynical, bitter person they’d ever met, at least on the subject of getting along with public servants. As I see it, I came by my attitude honestly.
We’re riding home with groceries along Raymond Avenue, approaching the Vassar Main Gate roundabout, and, as is my custom, I’ve been pointing to the middle of the lane for maybe five seconds as I move leftward to take the lane:
The driver of HCX-1297 is having none of it:
The mirror passed maybe a foot away from my shoulder; I’d reeled my arm in as the front fender passed by.
All three traffic circles / roundabouts on Raymond neck the lane down and angle it rightward into the circle, which is supposed to “calm” traffic:
The design doesn’t allow much flinch room for cyclists and certainly isn’t calming for us.
The NYS engineer who designed the Raymond roundabouts said the whole thing was “standards compliant”, refused to go on a check ride with me to experience what it was like, and told me to detour through the Vassar campus if I felt endangered while sharing the road.
Obviously, NYS DOT personnel do not dogfood their “share the road” bicycle standards by riding bicycles.
Some recent brush-clearing along our usual bicycle routes:
The bushes with oval leaves are Blackthorn, of which Wikipedia says “The shrub, with its savage thorns, is traditionally used […] to make a cattle-proofhedge.” They’re commonly found along the untamed border of Rt 376, as well as the rail trail.
It’s more effective than expecting my tax dollars to wake up and get to work …
The driver gave us plenty of room, which is always nice:
But then the SUV turned into the Maloney Rd entrance to the Dutchess Rail Trail:
Which was specifically designed to exclude motor vehicles:
Later, I was told it’s an “allowable access” for Water Authority vehicles and, in any event, because their SUV didn’t leave the biggest ruts and tracks, they think it’s all good:
The ramp joins the trail at an acute angle, so the SUV required some backing & filling to get around:
Then it’s an easy drive to the water meter about 2500 feet down the trail:
There’s an Official Vehicle Access gate one mile south of the Maloney ramp that’s about 3800 feet from the water meter. I’m told they use the Maloney ramp to reduce the distance they drive on the rail trail; evidently, destroying the entrance Just Doesn’t Matter.
I’m trying to develop an attitude between Zen and apathy, with just enough indifference to not care when somebody tells me how wonderful things will be in the future.