Zen and the Art of Bike Commuting

I got out of work about 45 min later than I planned. A flat front tire greeted me when I walked in to the bike room after work. Did the pump and ride up the Platte bike path up to REI, navigating the remaining icy, slushy spots of the trail which helped break up the monotony of what was otherwise a continuous puddle of water. Rode up 23rd and almost met the grill of an oblivious motorist attempting to make a right turn through me. Yet despite what would otherwise be a bullshit ride home, l I found myself in unflappably high spirit’s the entire ride home. It was 45 degrees when I passed the big digital thermometer by Crown Hill…in January…at night! Can you beat that? I cruised the loop past Sloan’s lake. Meandered my way up through Edgewater and coasted down 26th towards the light at Kipling. As crappy as commuting by bike can sometimes be, what with the flats, the cold, the wet ass, perpetual snot flow, narrow misses with cars and the rest, sometimes the bike just balances all that stuff. There are times where you need the bike and you get a frozen brake and yelled at by some chick using the bike lane as her personal passing lane…but there are other times when you need the bike and it delivers. The stress just fades as the miles roll by. The mind zones out and escapes the jungle of the day to day. A smile appears once more and its almost like being a kid again. The road is yours and yours alone, and with that kind of clarity and control of one’s destiny, all is again right with the world. You just pick where you want to go and you‘re off. If only all days could end this way.