Commentary by Wayne Lee
Well, Da Beast and I have now logged more than 3,600 miles together over the past 14 plus months and with the weather improving almost daily, it may be time for a tune-up and plans for another long-distance adventure. I have yet to determine a destination, but opportunities abound. After all, I have yet to visit the city of Rogue River, but I believe it’s doable.
Together we’ve been through a lot over the past year-plus as has been documented here in this esteemed publication. I’ve had my share of mishaps from flat tires to Da Beast just sliding out from under me if I hit loose gravel. Thankfully, nothing worse than a little “road rash” occurred which is what every cyclist of every age has experienced. If you don’t have a scrapped knee, elbow or other body part, you’re not considered a “dedicated cyclist.”
My life, for the most part, has been dedicated to bicycling as an alternative form of transportation. Even when I owned a car, my wife used it to take the kids to and from school and do the shopping and other errands. My job with the City of Sacramento provided me with a discount bus pass and bikes were transportable on both buses and light rail. I literally could go anywhere in the county and beyond.
I’ve become so involved in two-wheel transportation it has almost become an obsession. It began just after high school when, while working a summer job, I was riding a 90cc motorcycle home when a car illegally turned left in front of me. I went over the hood, except for my left knee which hit the grill.
Moving forward, I lost a tendon over that left knee and required a metal bar to stabilize my left femur (hip to the knee) and could no longer jog for exercise. Before the crash I was a long-distance runner who once ran a 20-mile race but that’s another story for another time.
That’s when I discovered cycling. I was unable to bring my left leg forward while jogging, due to the missing tendon, eventually the leg gave out and I fell. On a bicycle, all I had to do was push down with my right leg and the damaged left leg came up all by itself. I had just become a bicyclist.
My new-found way of transportation had at that point developed into a philosophy. I was now dedicated to reducing my fossil fuel footprint as much as possible. I’m not claiming any righteous superiority. The first two vehicles I owned saw me drive many, many miles as I traveled all over California from San Diego to Nevada and points west (including many trips to San Francisco).
However, as I began a family, I sold my van for a family car for the family to use, and I used my trusty bike and mass transit to do whatever I needed to do. The wife had the keys, and I, thanks to my fire department job (administrative), received a half-priced transit pass that accommodated bikes on buses and light rail trains. I had the freedom to travel the entire county and then some.
My bicycle obsession extended way beyond my chosen mode of transportation. As my kids began to grow, I provided them with bikes and gear, and Saturdays were our “adventure days.” We would ride bike trails to various parks and museums as well as the big candy store in Old Sacramento where each child got a small bag to fill with whatever caught their fancy.
Occasionally, one or more of their friends came along on a ride to a large playground or other destination. Note: We all resided in a low-income neighborhood where the parks lacked any kind of maintenance. But the kids had fun, everyone got some fresh air, exercise, and bonded with one another.
But I digress. Once a year the City of Sacramento would designate a certain day in your neighborhood where you could put anything on the curb (within environmental restrictions) and it would be collected and taken to the dump at no charge. That was the night I would cruise the neighborhood for cast-off bikes, especially kid’s bikes.
I would sort out the castoffs as to what could be saved and what were just available for parts and then proceeded to assemble bicycles from what was salvaged, and I gave them away to neighborhood kids in need. It got to the point that every bike within a three-block radius was brought to me because I became the local bike repair shop.
Fast forward to today and all things transportation are moving toward electric. I’m seeing more and more scooters of varying speed and power cruising local streets, and a young neighbor of mine just recently acquired her first electric bike. She needed some advice on assembly. Having no tools and only YouTube videos, she reached the point of asking me for assistance.
I was able to help her put the final touches to the e-bike but the front disc brake rotor was rubbing and that adjustment was above my pay grade. I don’t have the tools or the expertise to adjust a disc brake or straighten a slightly out-of-line rotor.
So, here I am, decades later, still attempting to assist bike riders any way I can to keep them up and running (and not burning fossil fuel) as I look to plan my next adventure. I can’t wait.
