Two years ago i was commuting from my home in Fremont to the University of Washington where i was both going to school and working. I was living an urban dream, a short walk down the hill took me to a bus stop where i had my pick of busses that would get me where i wanted to go.
But then i got tired of waiting. I didn’t like planning my morning around that 8:06 bus which i would frequently miss by just a few seconds, throwing the rest of my day back by 10 or 15 minutes. I got tired of long walks home if i was out after the busses stopped running. And if i ever wanted to stray from my normal haunts, i’d have to find other bus routes.
The bus was dictating where i went and when i’d go there. Sure, i could drive … but parking is a nightmare, traffic is worse and those late night outings? Well let’s just say they wouldn’t have been as fun if i had to drive home.
So one weekend when i was taking care of the parents dogs i went out to the garage and grabbed dad’s old bike. I tried to take it for a spin but the gears just grinded and clicked and through off the chain. Not to be defeated i took the bike in to Recycled Cycles and had them fix it up.
I remember quite vividly walking down to the bike shop after work on the day my bike was to be finished. I’d ridden the bus in but was prepared to ride a bike home, a frightening 2 mile journey. I was honestly nervous, would i make it home? Would i have to stop and push the damn thing up the hill coming home?
Well i got on the bike and started what was, in retrospect, a slow and sweaty journey home. But it was glorious. I’d never travelled through the city with the wind in my hair like that. I could hear people conversations, i could see the urban wildlife and more than anything else i could do it on my own schedule.
I plodded back and fourth on that heavy old mountain bike for a few months (Route from Bikely. I learned some alternate routes and got comfortable moving around between fremont and the university, back and forth.
By summer i had gained the strength and confidence to wander off this path. I started riding father, for fun exercise and exercise.
One day my brother called and told me he was doing the STP and thought i should come along. While sure… i’d learned to move between my neighborhoods of choice, i wasn’t to sure i could move between the cities of the pacific northwest. But i rode and i rode and i trained and trained and when the time came i piloted that big heavy beast the 204 miles between here and Portland. And when i got off that bike it was glorious.
The next fall i sold my car. I rode my bike in the wind, rain and even the snow this winter. I found a group of nutjobs to ride with that took me all over the city.
Next time: Tips for you to Move by Bicycle.
