Tuesday, November 12, 2019

Proposing an Idea [psss, it's 100+ years old]


Our bike group enjoying coffee in May
The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.                             Ralph Waldo Emerson
Snowflakes are one of natures' most fragile things, but just look what they can do when they stick together.                                                         Vesta M. Kelly



"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm."
Collette
With some gal pals

Biking has been part of my life since I was five years old. Always a dare devil child I rode early and to my Mother's consternation I rode with daring. To her horror she watched as I rode down our small hill one foot balanced on the seat, hands holding on to the handle bars, while I did an arabesque---leg extended behind me. Pay back time came when I raised two sons like myself, Josh  at 2 years old rode his trike down a flight of stairs and then at seven rode his bike off a deck. Zach at eleven was performing tricks and feats down a rocky slope, crashed and then though scraped and bleeding rode himself to the medical center. I shake my head now when I think about our adventures and thank God that we all had the good fortune to survive and never even lose consciousness.

The exhilaration and the freedom I felt when I learned to ride at five continues to this day, and is without parallel. What a clever device a bicycle is: a self propelled unit that can take you almost anywhere you want to go. A woman I know rode mostly around the world on her bike. Amazing. Then the additional benefits: no gas guzzling; no emissions; splendid exercise; and additionally an excellent chance to think with no machines interrupting you. I realize this is not for everyone, but I pity those who cannot join in the fun of bicycling.

Biking gave me my first taste of independence, and I have never looked back. In the 50's in Evanston, 'under parenting' ruled the day and I was one of six kids so we were mostly left to our own devises during the day. We went everywhere on bikes, to school, to the beaches, the stores. I am grateful for those days of 'no helmet' abandon. Then biking saved my bacon in graduate school. I used those wheels as a metaphor for life, cranking away at my studies. I did some of my best thinking while pedaling furiously. Tension, worry, and the aggravation of being an "at a distant student" [when that was a new concept], fell away as I tore down the roads of our town. It centered me, focused my thoughts.

However, this was not always the case. Once time after grad school I was preparing for a talk that I was giving in Victoria, B.C. As usual I hopped on my bike to go over all the important points in my head. Well, I started fooling around, not paying close enough attention to the road and I wasn't wearing a helmet. Next thing I knew, my wheel went into the soft gravel and when I fell I smacked my chin on the pavement.  Naturally, my chin split open and like Zachary before me, despite the gushing blood, I rode myself to the medical center. No stitches, they glued me, but the lesson was learned. I looked a sight and to my embarrassment I confessed that story to 250 people at the conference. Paying attention while biking is as important as the attention needed for driving a car.

Today I am more safety oriented and much more attentive. I always wear a helmet, I dress to be noticed. When my sainted mother voiced her concern at my safety I reassured her, "Mother, I look like a carnival when I ride." Not only the bright clothes, I have a bell, a mirror, padded pants [that really do feel like wearing diapers], padded gloves, a light on the back and I carry a spare tire. But the best news is I haven't done a biking arabesque in years. Mother would be so relieved.

Recently I went to the Strike for the Climate [and the earth] to be supportive of the kids all across America. These very intelligent young adults and children are justifiably appalled that we adults have done relatively nothing to stop  Climate Change that they will have to live with.  For this occasion I rode my bike to the Strike. I rode along side the many high school kids who participated in the march.
I was surprised and then amused when a friends came up to me and said, "Susan, why aren't you marching?"  I looked at her, smiled saying, 'it's because this is a protest, strike about climate change!  One of the ways that I support this effort to raise awareness is to ride my bike.' I thought everyone knew that we need to be doing our little parts to end our addiction to fossil fuels.  Let me recommend the excellence of riding a bike if you can here in this little snippet I wrote about biking in a lovely May morning years ago. 

On my bike in May
 Sunbathing cats languidly glance up, birds fly away as I hop on my bike and pedal past barking dogs, past cavorting lambs, past lush fields of daffodils. I shamelessly tease a clump of cows with a startling aria, laughing when two raise their liquid eyes my way. These sturdy wheels and legs carry me to work.

I wonder why the road is not clogged with bicyclists. I remember when in Holland, we saw well dressed business people biking to their jobs: women in high heels, men in suits.
In pictures from a traveling friend I see that in Africa they carry truck tires, entire families on their bikes.
I just enjoy the ride thinking as I pedal about this circle of life.  

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.
                                                                        

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