Rediscovery

Being semi-retired (unemployed) at 27 results in boredom... a LOT of boredom. I really had no idea there were so many hours in a single day until I had no job to occupy a good third of it. So, to prevent my own mental and spiritual decay, I adopted the use of a daily planner.

Then I immediately abandoned it. I mean, I fill it in, but I never look at it (I know what I'm supposed to do every day). So, I'm still frequently fighting boredom. Did I mention that I have no TV, internet, dvds, or videogames? That doesn't help! I digress... I'll rant about videogames on some other post later. Right now, it's about my experience yesterday riding around my home town on my bike.

I'm not sure to what special niche of cycling I belong, but I have had a special spot for touring. The idea of exploring unknown territories from the vantage point of a bicycle has an allure to me. It's the whole “venturing into the unknown” thing, I think. I mean, I know the route I'm taking, I know my ride, and I know my body. What I do not know is the texture of the roads, their makeup, what their particular signature of gravel feels like beneath me! You learn what hills deserve your curses, which yards and parking lots you can cut through, and where those rare spots of shade always happen to be. And who knows, you might just end up passing by a winery you didn't expect (totally happened to me!).

Sure, I could drive through many of those routes, but that is nowhere near the same (and you know it!). Consider the following: I grew up in Green Bay, and have been driving its streets for the better half of a decade. But yesterday was the first time that I rode down them at any length. It's what I would call an Urban Tour, in which I pretty much just rode along the city streets, more or less aimlessly. I took routes I've driven for years and years, but they were entirely new to me from the perspective of my bike. Because I rode, I got to experience their subtleties in a new and very intimate way (If there's a bump, I feel it. If there's a patch of gravel, I swerve). Example: I rode almost the entire stretch of Broadway, a route I've driven plenty, but I never noticed until yesterday that it was at a slight slope. It's what's called a “false flat” that appears flat, but in fact is not. These things are amazing, or grueling, depending on which direction you're facing.

Fortunately for me, I was facing downhill and I had the wind at my back. So I was pretty much flying down that sucker! And it went through downtown and an industrial district, so I was flying while weaving around gravel and broken glass (more fun!).

But yeah, I learned that there's always more to discover out there, wherever you are.

In a final note, I would like to say that I actually enjoy riding around cars in cities. Cars out in the country are sneaky and fast, so they're like bad Strong Safeties (they never actually hit you, but they are loud and fast enough to scare you into screwing up). Whereas, in the city, cars are predictable and slow; you know where they're going and you know that you are far more agile than they are, and can fit wherever you put yourself. So they're slow, predictable, and way more afraid of you than you are of them. They're like (seriously, it took me a half an hour to think of a good analogy) student loans: as long as you're careful and keep your head on a swivel, they're harmless.

The tipping point for me, that moment I realized that it was no big deal riding around cars, was when I was riding singletrack. It occurred to me that I only needed about two feet to ride safely, and there's WAY more than that on roads!

It puts the lotion on its skin and clicks the ads again!