Here's a rather lengthy "ride report" from my ride with co-workers for National Bike to Work Day. It's really more a reflection on how my reasons for biking have changed over the years. Please feel free to respond with similar reflections of your own.
- - - - - - - - - - I lived in Baltimore City for about a decade, and for several of those years, I was a bike commuter. My steed, a rattle-can-brown early 80s Trek single-speed conversion, was light and fast. I ran 23mm Gatorskins pumped to 100 psi. I darted between cars and blew through lights. I rode without a helmet. I did everything that I wouldn't dream of doing now and I didn’t think twice about it. I just needed to get to work, and I was often late, so I needed to get there as quickly as possible. A few years into my decade in the City, I bought a car, a faded gold '97 Corolla that had been through the ringer. I handed my friend Amy a crisp $1 bill and she handed me the title. (That was the second $1 car I'd bought in my life, the first being an '83 Civic, "Norm," that I bought off a college roommate. A couple years later, the Glendora CA Police Department towed it while I was out of the country and I never saw it again. But that's another story.) Once I had the car, my bike commuting days slowly came to an end. I gave every excuse in the world as to why I stopped riding to work, but they didn’t really add up to much beyond indifference. And that indifference, I've realized, stemmed from the fact that biking had become a strictly point-a-to-point-b venture. It was all utility and no joy--which is particularly sad because of how joyfully my biking life began: destinationless, meandering rides through the South Dakota countryside, all gravel roads, one hand on the handlebar and the other clutching a fishing rod or BB gun. So I guess the point of all this is that I went on a bike ride this morning, and it was fun. I met my co-workers at a quarter past six. We rode five winding miles through suburban neighborhoods, down roads I'd never traveled, walked our bikes through holes in fences at the end of dead end streets, avoided traffic at all costs. Our destination was the Towson pit stop for National Bike to Work Day. During my bike commuting days, self-righteousness stirred from deep within anytime I caught wind of this annual tradition. Co-workers would go out of their way to tell me, the only biker guy they knew, that they were planning to ride. They'd brush the dust off of their hybrids and mountain bikes and squirt some WD-40 on the chains. On the day of, they'd text pictures of the commute, and they'd stop by my classroom to see if I'd gotten their messages. Some years, I'd even go out of my way to take the bus on that day, imagining that it was some sort of a statement. In my youth, everything had to be exclusively mine. But today, I didn’t think about any of that. My Sam felt better than ever. My co-workers and I smiled and laughed and talked, mostly about past bike rides, and we made plans for future rides, too--adventures we’ll go on together. And while I’ve been joyfully riding my bike again now for years, today I bid official farewell to the jaded rider of my early 20s, the one who didn’t remember how much joy could come from hopping on a bicycle with one goal, to just ride. -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To post to this group, send email to [email protected]. Visit this group at https://groups.google.com/group/rbw-owners-bunch. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
