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bicycle bicycle you are my bicycle.

I’m working on a larger two-part writing project about how bike punx will save the world.

The other night, I did a free-write on why I love riding my bike, just to prepare. Here it is.

Why do I love riding my bike? That’s a silly question: it’s just fun. That’s why you “ride” a bike while you “drive” a car. But there is much more than that. Being a cyclist is not just an activity, it’s a lifestyle, an ideology. Riding a bike is freedom. You might own your vehicle, but in my book, as long as you’re pumping gas into it, you’re still paying rent. I get by on my own steam; I know all the best short cuts, and I’m never “stuck in traffic.” I feel healthy and strong yet I never have to make a point to exercise.

I don’t have to rely on anyone, any system, or any roads to go where I want. I ride guilt free knowing that my transportation method is not contributing anything negative to my environment. Nor is the fuel necessary to operate my bike one that shapes foreign policy decisions or help to destroy indigenous and nonhuman communities the world over.

The movement of the bike is perfectly engineered to compliment the natural motion of my body. I hate the wind, but I like that I am affected by the weather. This makes me feel more human, more connected to myself and the world around me. I know every bump, curve, and hill from my daily commute as well as I know my bike, which I regard as an extension of my own body.

I don’t need a license to ride. I don’t pay taxes, nor is my bike registered (though technically, it needs to be registered). I don’t need insurance; I deal with my minor injuries and repairs and learn deeply from them.

In truth the world-view of a cyclist is much different than that of a motorist. We think locally. Our perception of time and space is grounded in physical reality. We’re more acutely and intimately affected by the world around us.

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The Author

You’ve stumbled upon the adventures of an English teacher and writer, peddling deeper connections to a physical and emotional reality in Northern Arizona.

kyle[at]undertheconcrete[dot]org