See the World: Ride a Bike

Much can be said for cycling as a “slow” means of transportation. Cruising around town by bicycle affords the bicycle rider a more intimate connection with his or her surroundings and community. One can tour a new neighborhood, take in natural splendor or interact with people more intimately by bicycle then by car. Sealed in your bubble, latte steaming in the cup holder, radio blasting white noise in the background, stress level rising due to traffic, cruising at what you think is a safe 8 mph above the speed limit, you in fact miss quite a bit. On the other hand, when riding a bike you form connections, if only briefly, with everything around you; you practically see life as it happens. You catch people remodeling their homes, working on their lawns or cursing their mower. You see businesses come and go. You come across the occasional domestic violence dispute. You catch birds, deer, squirrels doing their wildlife thing as opposed to catching them in the grill of your vehicle. You exchange hellos and nods with fellow riders and pedestrians, or have that fellow rider or pedestrian snub you thus learning that they are either preoccupied--or a self-absorbed prick. You’re afforded time to shout or appropriately gesture at passing motorists, contemplate whether those kids are going to throw something at you, or spy that unfettered dog lurking in the bushes waiting to jump on your leg. These visceral, direct connections make cycling the thoroughly engaging experience that it is, and today my ride to work was a ride of such interactions.

Heading out of the neighborhood I came upon a mom and son walking to school or the bus stop. Heading up the sidewalk the kid, as if suddenly possessed, took off running only to jump from the sidewalk into the gutter on a huge chunk of ice. The ice gave way and emitted a huge cracking sound in defeat. The boy roared with laughter in triumph. At that moment the mom glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back in return: I would have done the same thing. Heading along 20th passing bus stops I saw a man waiting for the 20 who honestly looked like a Unibomber in training. I instantly felt glad to not be on that bus. At the light at Pierce and 14th I waited to turn left. I heard a voice to my left and looking over saw an elderly woman with purplish hair, bright yellow jacket and walker (complete with cut tennis balls on the feet, no joke.) She cackled in  her stereotypical old lady way, “Where is the Wal-Mart? I’m trying to find the Wal-Mart.” The lady was easily more than a mile from the Wal-Mart at Wadsworth and Colfax moving at a speed of .0067 mph. With no traffic behind me waiting to turn left, I sat through an entire cycle of the light trying to explain how she could best get to Wal-Mart. As I pulled away I thought, its 20 degrees and that old bird is hoofing it to Wal-Mart to get god knows what, walker and all: that’s some sass.

Yesterday heading home I came across a guy also riding, dressed in a reflective yellow jacket and bike shorts. The temp had to be in the mid 30’s and after exchanging hello’s I had to ask if he wasn’t a bit ambitious in his choice of attire. He smiled and replied that he was at his limit and rode up a different street. That’s a hell of a limit in my book, I was wearing my typical khakis and thought it cool. But now I know that guy either has no nerve endings in his legs or a pretty high threshold for pain. It is this type of intimate understanding of one’s community and the people in it, which can only be gleaned from riding. And speaking of intimacy and understanding, a two-tone 90’s era minivan passed me today complete with beefy, overweight, middle age guy at the helm rocking out to the Scorpions' “Rock Me Like a Hurricane.” From that experience I came to an understanding that, this dude wants to be rocked like a hurricane …and I wanted to be far, far away from him as a result. See, cycling made that connection happen and I in the long run might be better for it.