Publisher's Statement
Lately, I can’t seem to shake certain negative thoughts from my head. Although I’ve been riding through “the hood” for 10 years or so, the stories of cyclists getting jumped—and even shot—just a few blocks from my house is a little unsettling.
And while I managed to walk away unscathed the time I got hit by a car, I know that chances are I might not be so lucky next time. I’m constantly reminded of my own mortality as I scan the internet for cycling news. Rarely does a week go by without news of a fatal cycling accident.
The news of 16-year-old Aileen Chen’s death in Brooklyn hit me especially hard. As some of you know, I teach art at an after-school program for teens. If one of my students died, on a bike or otherwise, I would be devastated.
And it’s not any easier to accept the death of all the bicycle messengers who have died over the years. As Kurt Boone, The Messenger Poet, wrote in The Last Ride, “Life is precious for goodness sake.”
I was riding home from work the other day with these thoughts in my head when the combination of warm sunshine and a cool breeze managed to remind me that riding a bicycle really is a joyous activity. One that should be savored, and remembered if possible.
And so I started thinking about all the joy that cycling has brought me. From the exhilaration of riding the city streets in London, New York or Chicago to the peaceful bike paths of Santa Cruz. Of the massive descents in Morzine. Of riding above 11,000 feet in Colorado, or along a 1500 foot sheer cliff in Utah. Of bike polo in Kentucky, ridge running in North Carolina and stump jumping in central Florida. Of pulling cactus needles out of my bike shorts in Arizona with a grin. Of dirt roads to the coast in Jamaica. Of surviving 24 hours in the woods in West Virginia. Of riding 40 miles despite a 95° heat wave in Boston, and the sweet reward of a cold beer afterward.
Yeah, bikes have been good to me so far.
Urban Velo issue #26, July 2011. Dead tree print run: 5000 copies. Issue #25 online readership: 55,000+