Posts Tagged ‘bicycling’
Rush Hour Bike Commuting
It is hard to describe the insight that comes from riding a bike to work during the hours when most people are driving to their workplace. I fear it is one of the things that needs to be experienced first-hand in order to truly comprehend. I also think it is key to already have been driving to your workplace for some time and to then bike that distance, preferably, multiple times.
First of all, there is the time difference in the duration of the trip. On a bike, you have time to notice a lot more things about the world between where you live and where you work. There is something about that fact which can really improve your perception the next time you climb back in that car to drive to work. It is hard to explain, but it broadens your perspective.
One less mysterious aspect of biking a route that you also drive is the new respect it provides for the terrain. Little changes in elevation that used to go entirely unnoticed will subsequently be intimately understood as you are gliding up inclines at the touch of the gas pedal.
When you are on a bike and moving at the slower pace of cycling, the manic pace of automobiles being driven by people rushing to get to work becomes dramatically apparent. There is an overt selfishness in every obsessive gesture to get around any car that is in front of a rushing driver. Their impatience emanates an incredibly annoying aura. They can also prove to be extremely dangerous to cyclists.
I am again reminded of the classic quote of comedian George Carlin: Have you ever noticed that anybody driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?
Have you ever noticed that drivers who label others as idiots and maniacs, demonstrate selfish behaviors in their rush to and from work? Relax. You’ll get there.
Adventures in Bike Commuting
Driving to work during rush hour can be fraught with hassles like squirrelish decision makers in front of you, the little red number that darts across your lane, and any number of turkeys that impede your progress.
Well, it’s no easier on a bike, I tell ya. It was a beautiful, though chilly, morning yesterday when I set off on my inaugural bike commute to work this year. I’d hardly left the driveway when my first hazard appeared in the road. A squirrel darted out and then began the classic moves of indecision right in front of my path. Back, then forth, oops, no, back again –wait! Go! No, back! I flashed to the embarrassing story I would have to admit if I crashed by running over a squirrel that couldn’t decide whether to complete his crossing or not.
A little while later I enjoyed a close encounter with a bright red Cardinal that darted across the bike path, right in front of me. I always wonder if they already sense the rate of my approach and are calculating the room they have to get across, or whether they get surprised by the speed I am moving and find me to be much closer to them than they expect as they zoom across. A new image flashes across my mind of having to explain getting broadsided by a bird like a Cardinal.
Finally, I notice a bird that looks like the tallest pheasant I have ever seen. I already have a sense of what it is when I come around some trees to find a flock of turkeys congregating right in the middle of the paved trail. The bird appearing to be the dominant gobbler has his tail spread wide and all the others seem to be gathered around him. He lets out the classic turkey gobble, but none of them seem inclined to yield their position to my approach. I’ve heard stories of the potential aggressiveness of both geese and turkeys, so at this point, I’m more interested in maintaining my momentum than stopping to visit with them. A brief whistle from me helps to encourage enough movement from them to allow me to pass unharmed.
In the end, I survived all the hassles of commuting and arrived at work, on time, and pre-energized to face the tasks ahead of me. The work all seemed a bit less daunting with the knowledge that when quitting time arrived, I would be able to unwind with a pleasant glide home in the sunshine on my bicycle.
It never entered my mind that in the span of one day, the very trail I rode to work on in the morning would be posted as closed for repairs by the afternoon. The thing about it though, was that the barrier with the sign was not across the trail, but on the side. And from what was visible, the new asphalt had already been laid. I was utterly surprised, but maybe they did this all in the span of one day!? I went for it.
New pavement is so fun to ride. And this direction, the trail is mostly a downgrade. I was feeling pretty smug. Then the new stuff ended. No big deal, it was still rideable. When I came upon a woman walking her dog, I received a stern warning that it was all messed up ahead. Sure enough, they still had a lot of paving left to do, and their preparations included breaking up some of the old stuff.
No wildlife to speak of on the way home, but a fair challenge navigating the construction that just so happened to start on the first day I chose to ride my bike to work. Maybe they will finish it all today. I will be driving because I’m playing soccer in the morning. Hopefully, I packed the proper things for two days worth of work clothes last night.
Cycling Psychodrama Dream
Yesterday I enjoyed a lunch date with friends whom I most often see at our annual week-long bike trips, and for some strange reason this morning, I woke from a classic themed dream about being ill-prepared at the start of one of those trips. In a way, the details don’t matter, because the general impression of anxiety, over things not being in order, form the bulk of the focus, but the details do tend to have a certain entertainment value.
It began with the normal brief bike ride from the first overnight camp where we park our cars to the place where we will have breakfast. I found myself riding off of pavement, intending to cut a short distance across grass, but suddenly the area was too soft and wet to ride easily and even though others made it just fine, I ended up doing a loop in a struggle to navigate the situation and remain upright. I was not in the best gear to achieve this and wasn’t prepared to shift. How entirely dream like.
Then the dream kept going toward that ever more extreme pattern of bizarre. I was leaning my bike to park it in order to join everyone for breakfast when I noticed the back wheel was way too far forward and closer inspection revealed the crank and pedal were no longer attached to the chain ring (I’m sure this was a subconscious homage to my good friend, Gary Larson, who actually suffered such a fate while riding on the trip last year), and then as if that wasn’t enough, the right half of my handlebar was no longer attached; as if it was a two-piece part to begin with.
From there the dream became a challenge of trying to locate the Penn Cycle repair van, which was outside some doors for a moment and then gone as if he had left to get some breakfast of his own. It continued with my walking in to try and tell someone my situation and that I wouldn’t be riding the first leg. Then I was trying to navigate the breakfast with more classic dream characteristics of not being able to find what I’m looking for, and instead, being continually presented with additional challenges like suddenly being outside in my socks and then perched on a flimsy staircase where the first step appears to be straight down and too far for my reach…
All in all, pretty entertaining little dramas, from the perspective of now being awake and able to recognize they aren’t real. I don’t have any planned trips currently on my mind, so who knows what it is that transposed my wonderful lunch with cycling friends into the cycling dream of anxieties. I think it is a good thing that the weather has turned a bit too chilly to interest me in going for a ride for a little while now.
The Middle of June
I may be jumping the gun just a bit, because the picture party for Jim Klobuchar’s Adventures’ “Jaunt with Jim” bike ride, won’t occur until this evening, and that is where I will be premiering my video to a ‘live’ audience, but loyal readers here at Relative Something deserve some special privileges…
Here is a sneak peek at my version of Jim’s annual week-long bike trips around the state of Minnesota and surrounding region:
Plannin’ to Pack
It is sort of a deja vu for me to be packing for a trip so soon after returning from the big trek in Nepal, but it is time to do it again. This Friday, I depart for a week-long bike trip “through the land and among the waters where those rollicking Frenchmen roamed,” referring to the fur trading voyageurs of days gone by. I will be joining friends and fellow bicyclists for the 35th annual Jaunt with Jim bicycle trip in the middle of June. This year we explore the upper reaches of the Minnesota portion of the north shore of Lake Superior, all the way to Grand Portage, and make a foray up the Gunflint Trail for a bit. I haven’t done any packing yet, but I’ve started my planning to pack.
The first time I rode “the Klobuchar” –one of several nicknames for this annual week of biking and camping that has visited just about every nook and cranny of the state of Minnesota, as well as several jaunts to neighboring territories– was back in 1994 on the occasion of the 20th ride. I have missed 3 or possibly 4 of these trips in the years since, but it is something almost automatic for me to decide I will ride the Jaunt with Jim every June. When I got home after the ride in 2000, I composed a song about the experience. It ended up being so wordy that I had a hard time establishing phrasing that worked well with my melody and made it almost impossible for me to memorize. I decided to share it with the group a couple of years later, as a poem; reading from the page instead of reciting from memory.
Occasionally, I bring a guitar along on the trip. I don’t do it every year, because it does add one more thing to be concerned about and sometimes I enjoy having a break. But I do miss it when I don’t bring it along and I receive a fair amount of requests from others to make sure to bring it the next time. Last summer was one of those years I didn’t bring it, so when I got home, I mentioned how nice it would be to have a small travel guitar for just such occasions. My wish was granted on my birthday when Cyndie and Julian took me guitar shopping and I picked out a Baby Taylor guitar.
So in honor of the new guitar, this year I worked on memorizing that poem as a song again, the way it was originally intended. It really is targeted to a specific audience, so I’m not sure how well it comes across to others, but I will share the lyrics here because they really do paint a picture of what a week of riding the Jaunt with Jim is like. Don’t worry about getting the itch to sign up to join us this year, after reading it, we’re beyond his maximum already and he’d have to turn you away. But, there’s always next year… we hope.
The Middle of June
What if it fit in the form of a perfect song?
The trial of surviving a ride through a daylong storm?
Some things come ‘round only one time a year
you need to grab and hold tight or chance missing the magic parts
that live in the stories and sweet spots of our minds
You know so many friends who can’t fathom that you do this
And fashioned a bond with the rest of us
who’ve joined you once again
Chorus:
It’s the middle of June
And here I go again
I’m getting back on my bike
To go Jaunting with Jim
You might call it neurotic, that pallid look that arises
when all too quickly I discover my time for packing has expired
and I’m suddenly in some form of campground of some outstate small town
The faces are familiar, though sometimes names come too slow
A ritual of pack and lock the auto, a parting glimpse to ways of yore
You can watch it as it blossoms and the trip so deftly is born
It’s so great to see you, tell me how have you been?
I want to share within your laughter and bow my head to hear your tears
Who is it brought a new bike there, who hasn’t changed theirs in twenty years?
If you put a piece of tape there, it might work fine, just look at his
Can I be your tent neighbor, will you snore more than me?
Once I’m packed in the morning, I’ll have much more than I meant to bring
How can that be Jim’s whistle? Good Morning right back at you
Do I wear my new tights yet or will it be 95 degrees?
I can’t see yet if it’s cloudy, nor discern if there’s any wind
Where’d I put my water bottles and oh my god do I have to pee
We thank you oh Conductor for this special opportunity
Please forgive me if I waiver and consider a jaunt to a B & B
We eat like we think we have to, then have some more when it tastes so good
wait in line to use a restroom and see our bottles all start out full
Then just repeat Jim’s instructions, did he say 59 not 23?
We’ll snack in eighteen hill-free miles, can it be this easy?
The road just rolls past our tires, “On your left” so you say
Who’s that singing while they’re riding? Haven’t you passed me twice today?
We fan out across the horizon, dodging roadkill and debris
Shouting Gravel! Hole! & Bump! while speaking with whomever we happen to be
We notice wild flowers ‘tween the farm fields, gaze on lakes as well as woods
Wave at gawking rural town folk and race with dogs past the point they should
It isn’t always smooth sunny tailwinds, yet it always ends up manageable
And we shout out the joys of elation the sight a water tower can tend to bring
Soon one day gets confused with others, it’s hard to say where we’ve been when
I remember bits of one funny incident, though which town I can’t quite claim
The shared meals more than nourish us, the joint accomplishments give common bond
Communal showering to humble us, and ties like family are coming on
Mere words can’t describe it, when you ride with us then you know
After years of having done this, it gets more important for me to go
All too soon the trip is over, the time just comes, the dancing’s done
Bittersweet to reach the start again, don’t want to stop, can’t wait to get home
What will it feel like back in my bed again, how’ll I do riding on my own
I’ll pretend I hear a morning whistle, the sound of tent poles breaking down
But I’ll rarely find convenience, such as the freedom from planning out
All the details of my day’s plan, as on Jim’s annual ride around
It’s the middle of June
And here I go again
I’m getting back on my bike
To go Jaunting with Jim
© 2000 JWHays
Relative Something 