Commentary by Wayne Lee
The beginning of the new year appears to be going well. No flat tires thus far which has allowed Da Beast and I to hit the 3,000 mile mark to commemorate our first anniversary. Yes, it was just one year ago my main mode of transportation arrived at my front door. Of course, some assembly was required which led to a phone call to customer service for technical assistance, but it wasn’t long until we were both ready to rock and roll.
At least Da Beast was ready. I, however, was at the bottom of the learning curve as evidenced by my initial ride. I climbed aboard my mechanical steed, turned it on at the lowest speed and began to pedal. What I didn’t realize was pushing down on the pedal automatically engaged the motor, and I went speeding into a chain link fence before I could hit the brakes. An inauspicious start at best.
Which brought me back to my bicycle beginnings. My very first bike, of course, had training wheels. I was only three or four years old at the time. Once I felt ready, I asked my father to take off the training wheels and let me ride but he was a firm no. That summer I begged and pleaded with him to set me free but to no avail.
As any kid would do, if dad says no, ask mom. Eventually my father caved in and took off the wheels. However, he left the metal brackets figuring that putting the little wheels back on would be easier than the entire assembly after my anticipated failure. So off I rode down the block, the wind in my hair and a smile on my face.
I traveled down the street and around the corner enjoying my newfound freedom. As I leaned in to turn around and head back, the bracket caught on the pavement and dumped me into the street. I got back up and rode home, but once dad saw my bloodied knee, the wheels went back on and so did my perceived chains.
Since that day I have owned many bicycles from the banana yellow Schwin Stingray I used to deliver papers as a kid to a classic Trek 2000 12-speed aluminum bike I still have today. Unfortunately, most of the bikes I have owned were eventually stolen, even when locked. There is nothing more heartbreaking than finding your ride gone, and nothing but a cut lock left behind.
My love of bicycles continues to this day. However, winter riding has its own challenges. The number of layers of clothing and other gear to protect from the wind chill can be cumbersome, and I have yet to find a bike helmet with earmuffs. My nose has its own complaints, but it will just have to face it.
The freedom to ride wherever, whenever the muse strikes, is both physically and emotionally invigorating. It’s great stress relief and the benefits go beyond just the rider who drivers don’t want on the road and pedestrians don’t want on the sidewalk. A bike means one less car resulting in less traffic, less pollution and more available parking. So next time you’re driving down the road, give a bicyclist a break (and a brake). It benefits everyone.
