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It’s not about the bike. And maybe it is.

Last updated on 2 May 2020

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Riding a bicycle is the summit of human endeavour – an almost neutral environmental effect coupled with the ability to travel substantial distances without disturbing anybody. The bike is the perfect marriage of technology and human energy.
Jeremy Corbyn (British politician)

I must be insane. 

I just sold my road bike for a few hundred dollars cash. A bike I loved though I barely rode it in the 23 years I owned it. Then, almost as quickly as it left in another cyclist’s car, I bought another. 

In my impulsiveness, I ignored the fact that we’re pretty far into Autumn. Soon the cold and the snow will descend on Ann Arbor’s streets and decent weather for riding is six or more months away. Though I didn’t spend thousands replacing the bike I supposedly loved so much–at least I was somewhat mature–I might do more time admiring my new ride from the confines of my garage than pushing the pedals. 

“Maybe I love the idea of cycling more than the reality of cycling.”

In the get-rid-ofthe-loved-road-bike-but-immediately-buy-another, there is so much wrapped up in my sense of what this bike means. From letting go of an image as a super fit human to clearing space for unused things to trying be a bike commuter to do my part for the environment, it’s hard to unpack all the dialogue inside my head. 

Maybe I love the idea of cycling more than the reality of cycling. Looking honestly at how many times I rode in the past 20 years it would be easy to say that I don’t actually like cycling much at all. Twenty times? Thirty times? Gluing myself in front of the TV every July for three weeks watching the Tour de France doesn’t make me an avid cyclist. It’s like a writing instructor once said to a class: Writers write. Everything else is everything else. 

Cyclists ride. Period.

 Here is what I think it means: 

Reason 1: avoiding death

Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

Though I loved my road bike, I didn’t ride it very much because it was uncomfortable. The top tube was a little long and the bike never quite fit me. Any road cyclist will tell you how important fit is. What’s more, the area around Ann Arbor is fairly dangerous for cyclists. Despite cycling being one

“Every time I see a ghost bike, I shudder.”

of the healthiest fitness activities one can do, in the past couple of years cyclists have been killed by inattentive and impatient drivers on city and country roads. Every time I see a ghost bike, I shudder. I promised Elin I would not ride out of her fear that I would wind up dead. As much as I dream it was different, our society isn’t set up to admire cycling. One of the things I loved about our spring break trip to Amsterdam was how cyclists who had the right of way over cars. I don’t have faith anything like that could happen here. Call me a wimp if you want but I don’t see the risks as worth it. 

Instead of long rides out on country roads, I’m going to skitter through safer neighborhood streets and take bike paths wherever possible. Instead of being “that asshole on a bike” defiantly fighting two-ton cars and SUV’s, I’m going to try to avoid them.

Reason 2: de-cluttering

Photo by Ruslan Bardash on Unsplash

It is because I didn’t ride much that my second reason comes into play. While not extreme in my attempts at minimalism, I don’t keep things I don’t use. In the past 10 years, Elin and I have donated, sold and disposed of clothing, shoes, tools, old business papers, even a treadmill as a way to declutter our lives. Even precious things I deemed very important were let go of. Every time I went into the garage and saw my Cannondale hanging there, I said, “I should get out for a ride.” But I didn’t. 

Don’t use it? Get rid of it. 

Reason 3: being kinder to the environment

Photo by Robert Iana on Unsplash

The new bike. It’s made for the kind of riding I will most likely do: from home to a downtown coffee shop. And it’s set up for me to commute to the office which I intend occasionally. So, the third reason: As a Realtor I spend a lot of time in the car, driving to showings and appointments and previewing properties. That’s a lot of gas in my not-so-fuel-efficient SUV. I read recently (http://bit.ly/Driveless) that if Americans cut back their mileage even 10% the impact on the environment could be a monumental reduction in carbon emissions.

According to the New York Times article: “A 10 percent cut, therefore, would be roughly 110 million metric tons of carbon dioxide, or the same as taking about 28 coal-fired power plants offline for a year.”

Riding is my effort at 10%.

Reason 4: authenticity

“I love the image of the hard-core Urban cyclist, navigating city streets, incoherent drivers and crappy weather….”

I’ll admit that I have romance around the image of the hard-core Urban cyclist, navigating city streets, oblivious drivers and crappy weather to get to work because of a deep commitment to health, the environment and authenticity. I do love the idea and I know a few people here who live that way. Though I don’t I live that image, each of these three reasons comes into play for a fourth: living as authentically for a good life. Whether it’s being on the spectrum as a minimalist, an environmentalist or simply to feel alive, I want to reside as close to my values as possible. Psychologists tell us living this way almost ensures our contentedness with life. 

You are what you do.

Gordon Livingston, Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart

If I want to see myself as environmentally conscious, I need to act that way. If I want to live as a minimalist, not only do I need to get rid of unwanted things, I need to use the things I covet. As Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, the authors of Everything That Remains and famous as The Minimalists say, “Love people. Use things.”

My swapping my road bike for this new commuter bike symbolizes my commitment to being deliberate, to living my values. I might be overthinking and trying to justify the $500 I spent on this bike. So it is. But then again, I’m human and therefore full of contradictions. Feelings don’t always make sense. 

It’s not about the bike. And maybe it is.