Happy 4th of July!
I love cycling. Part of the desire to write this blog is to journal and share my enthusiasm for doing stuff outdoors. I had a bike as a kid and our suburban Miami subdivision actually was a fantastic area to ride. But as an adult, I have to credit my husband for turning me back on to the bike. A notorious Goodwill shopper, he bought our kids, and then us, bikes. Then he bought more because he liked to rehab them and because it was good to have extras for the kids’ friends or when some of bikes didn’t make it back home. At one point, we had close to a 12 bike fleet in our back shed.
I have an old white Schwinn that Taylor paid about $20 for at Goodwill, then he put about $100 into spiffing it up for me. At first, we would go out to the Silver Comet Trail* and ride on neighborhood paths. Eventually I began to build up some stamina and confidence. I have friends who also like to ride, and I don't mind riding alone. Taylor and I try to make cycling part of our vacations whenever possible. We’ll be going to Portland, Oregon soon - a very bike friendly city I hear - and definitely plan to get bikes there.
[The Silver Comet Trail is 61 miles of old unused railroad turned into a recreational trail that runs from Smyrna to the Alabama line. The Chief Ladiga Trail picks up there and extends 33 miles beyond to Piedmont, Alabama. The trail is well maintained and offers excellents rides or walks with options to “put in” at many different trailheads. The Rail to Trail movement has helped to transform recreational areas in the U.S.]
For me, cycling is empowering and invigorating. Not only is it great exercise, but (even though I’m not super fast by any means), I love how you can cover a lot of distance and see so much. Such a great feeling to be on the bike.
Over time I’ve discovered that every ride is different even if it’s a familiar route. Yesterday morning I took my usual route through Morningside and Virginia-Highland to Piedmont Park where set up for the Peachtree Roadrace was in full swing. I rode around the park several times dodging a few trucks and carts, but mostly the paths were clear. Taylor runs the race, so I sent him a picture of the activity. What a huge effort. Once, some time ago when the race was smaller, I volunteered to give out shirts at the park. Now I cheer my husband on from the comfort of my bed.
I finally left the park and took the Beltline Eastside Trail to the end at Irwin Street and turned around. Another thing I love about just being out and about in public spaces like the park and on the Beltline -- whether I am cycling or walking -- is the people watching. There’s so much diversity: young and older, black & white, gay and straight, people with babies, dogs, whole families, groups of friends. On foot, on bikes of every type, skateboards, rollerblades. At the park, people are having cookouts, flying kites, doing photo shoots. On the Beltline, there’s street musicians jamming for tips, funky art, people headed for actual destinations, others just to be out. It’s a visual feast, and I love it.
On the Freedom Path just past the Carter Center, I had the pleasure of meeting a fellow cycling enthusiast -- maybe late 20s, who was new to the trails. He seemed to like the company so I rode with him a little while and explained the path’s tricky on-street routes to Stone Mountain. He had a new bike, but was wearing neither a helmet nor a shirt (in 95 degree heat). He was truly appreciative of my help, which made me feel like such a trail veteran. I took him through Candler Park where the path ends and talked him through the next on-street section to him. He worried he would get lost, and it’s likely he did, although I’d like to think that maybe others like myself were kind enough to help him.
I reversed and made my way home exiting the path at Oakdale. While waiting at the light at Fairview, a loud firecracker went off seriously startling me. I wondered who was testing July 4 fireworks, when I looked down and realized it was my front tire. Completely blown. Damn. Had the shop overfilled my tire when I took it in to repair a back tire flat the week before? Still not sure. I was about a mile and a half from home and soon rejected the idea of walking the bike back in the heat, so I called “Roadside Assistance’ - my son Jordan, who as luck would have it, had just arrived home and was able to come for me with the car with the bike rack.
Sad that I didn’t get to finish my ride, but feeling fortunate that the tire didn’t blow while I was riding and that help came quickly, I treated us both to strawberry-banana smoothies. Ahhh….
