Ahoy the Geezer!
As I looked ahead to my 48th year on this earth as of May, 2006, I took to the road on my Fisher Nirvana 21-speed bike, my pride and joy. It was the first truly NICE day we've had in Worcester since May Street was cleaned (I always mark the beginning of the bike riding season by the cleanliness of Worcester's streets). I'm always glad to see the DEADLY OF SAND OF DOOM removed so that I can appear intrepid on my two-wheeler.
I am not intrepid anymore, really. In December of 1997 (my first year of teaching) I slipped on a sidewalk going past Hahnemann Hospital on Lincoln St. in Worcester, broke my hip and pelvis, and spent 5 weeks in traction. On my return to school, I found my "students" had been magically transformed into actual slugs, lolling about in pools of adolescent mucus. I also found that my wife had found us a house to buy (a necessity, as we were being evicted from our lovely apartment near the old Coffee Kingdom, now across from the Corner Grille). Oh, and did I mention that this was in the first year of my new (second, and last) marriage to the lovely Aldona Pauliukonis?
These days, I am stressed out in a different way. And I like the biking. Worcester is actually not a bad place to bike, even during rush hour. I've biked in Boston, Somerville and Cambridge in Massachusetts, and Worcester is a far better town. The drivers are less angry, and therefore generally more courteous than in the aforementioned cities. And in Worcester, things are near enough to to one another to make biking a real option as long as the weather's good and you're up for it.
I'm now more of a recreational cyclist, but when I first worked at the ALL School up on Gorham Street off of Burncoat (now the Joy of Music Program) I rode my bike almost daily to work. If it rained or snowed, I had arrangements to get a ride with the generous science teacher and fellow neophyte teacher, Carol Chandley. But if it was simply damp or cold, I dressed accordingly and pedaled boldly up the hill to work each day. One day I rode/walked home in a blizzard. In fact, the Fisher was bought expressly for the purpose of getting me to work so that I wouldn't need a car (thanks Aldona!) and as a more gentle replacement for my road bike, the venerable Trek 10-speed touring bike left over from my days in the less-enjoyably-cycled towns mentioned above.
I have, on occasion, slipped into the smug self-righteousness that only urban bicycle commuters can possess ("I'm saving the planet, WTF do YOU do?) but as my knees have weakened, so has my resolve, and my self-righteousness has decreased. I ride more calmly, with care, and without my previous boldness. I was in my 30's when I nearly knocked one of my students over and instead broke my hip. In my 20's I was as aggressive and reckless as any Boston cabbie; I'm positively sedate now.
So since spring is here, give a thought for your beloved bike, as I have. My relationship with it may have changed, but I can still savor the sweet wine of youth most when I'm perched aboard it.
I am not intrepid anymore, really. In December of 1997 (my first year of teaching) I slipped on a sidewalk going past Hahnemann Hospital on Lincoln St. in Worcester, broke my hip and pelvis, and spent 5 weeks in traction. On my return to school, I found my "students" had been magically transformed into actual slugs, lolling about in pools of adolescent mucus. I also found that my wife had found us a house to buy (a necessity, as we were being evicted from our lovely apartment near the old Coffee Kingdom, now across from the Corner Grille). Oh, and did I mention that this was in the first year of my new (second, and last) marriage to the lovely Aldona Pauliukonis?
These days, I am stressed out in a different way. And I like the biking. Worcester is actually not a bad place to bike, even during rush hour. I've biked in Boston, Somerville and Cambridge in Massachusetts, and Worcester is a far better town. The drivers are less angry, and therefore generally more courteous than in the aforementioned cities. And in Worcester, things are near enough to to one another to make biking a real option as long as the weather's good and you're up for it.
I'm now more of a recreational cyclist, but when I first worked at the ALL School up on Gorham Street off of Burncoat (now the Joy of Music Program) I rode my bike almost daily to work. If it rained or snowed, I had arrangements to get a ride with the generous science teacher and fellow neophyte teacher, Carol Chandley. But if it was simply damp or cold, I dressed accordingly and pedaled boldly up the hill to work each day. One day I rode/walked home in a blizzard. In fact, the Fisher was bought expressly for the purpose of getting me to work so that I wouldn't need a car (thanks Aldona!) and as a more gentle replacement for my road bike, the venerable Trek 10-speed touring bike left over from my days in the less-enjoyably-cycled towns mentioned above.
I have, on occasion, slipped into the smug self-righteousness that only urban bicycle commuters can possess ("I'm saving the planet, WTF do YOU do?) but as my knees have weakened, so has my resolve, and my self-righteousness has decreased. I ride more calmly, with care, and without my previous boldness. I was in my 30's when I nearly knocked one of my students over and instead broke my hip. In my 20's I was as aggressive and reckless as any Boston cabbie; I'm positively sedate now.
So since spring is here, give a thought for your beloved bike, as I have. My relationship with it may have changed, but I can still savor the sweet wine of youth most when I'm perched aboard it.