Chapter IV

It's nearing the end of the year and I think it's going to be one of the first times I feel "complete" by this time. I don't have any resolutions set for next year or anything, but I know that I both grew as a person and a rider this year and am capable of more growth next year. The main difference between this year and next, however, is that I will be doing more exploring. I tried such a thing this morning and kind of pussed out about halfway through, mainly because I was going to work and didn't want to risk being late. My boss probably wouldn't accept "I was explorin new routes" as an explination. On my way home though I went the whole way and it was certainly special.

I'm somewhat ambivolent about creating an actual list of goals for the year. I know myself and writing them down will do more than intice me to procrastinate which means I'll ride 1000 miles from Jan. 1 to Halloween and then have two months to do the remaining 4000. Since that is unlikely, I'll fail that goal. As such, I'm gonna do what everyone should be doing anyway, and that is just riding.

Can riding be compared to religious practice? That is a question that has recently entered my mind. I've been reaquainting myself with the history and lore of my people. The devotion I show to riding does kind of seem similar to that one might show to their gods. As the year progresses I might make more of an effort in both and hopefully come across a revelation.

Chapter V

Living in the desert as I do, it's not often that I get to ride in the rain. Some folks may take such an opportunity for granted, but I try to relish it whenever I can. About a week ago I even got to ride in the rain during both my morning and evening commute. While at work so many people kept bringing it up. "Did you get wet? Did you ride in the rain this morning?" as if I had--or wanted-- a choice in the matter. It made me realize that we as a species have grown weak. We're afraid of our own planet. So what if it's raining? It's not like it's acid rain or anything. When I get home I feel like I just returned from some epic adventure, covered in mud and wet and usually cold.

The sound of the rain on my helmet is also quite meditative.

In other news, I rode in a cab today and while I was sitting there staring out the window my legs actually grew restless, and I realized that was the longest I had ridden in a car in at least several months. Why does this surprise me? Well I wouldn't call it surprise, more like a slight smug satisfaction that if I told that to 99% of people that I know they would look at me like I'm fucking insane. Actually it's probably similar to the looks I get when they see me riding in the rain or 115 degree heat.

Despite all that, I don't do it for the smug satisfaction. I do it for the fun. I think it is genuinly fun to ride in the rain and the heat. I feel human.

Chapter IV

This past year I have hit many milestones. Not just riding related, of course, but it has been a productive for sure. To be honest I find it amazing that the only milestones I really remember are those I accomplished on the bike. I'm not the self indulgent type that will list all of the things I've done here, though I dont expect many people are actually reading. As the year is now nearly over I have been thinking about the things I want to get done next year. This is another cool thing about cycling (or walking or running or swimming or any sort of true physical activity for that matter) compared to driving. When a motorist passes 1000 miles in their new car, so what? Sure there may be a few that see it as a "milestone" but what have they really accomplished. I remember passing 1000 miles on my new bike, and just today i passed 2000. I can see the results in my legs and feel it in my lungs. It is a special feeling.

I love my bike, but I can't wait until I get a new one. I think I might be addicted :)

Chapter III

It has been two months and 13 days since I have written last. Although it may seem like an abandonment, it is nothing more than a testimony to where my loyalties lie. I have continued riding just as I was then. Something significant has happened though. The weather has begun to change. I know, it's autumn, the weather is supposed to change. What is amazing though, is that I have felt it on a much deeper level while riding. In the searing desert heat, the longer I rode, the weaker I became. Not just on a single ride, but throughout the week. My energy would be sucked out of my soul and each afternoon became harder than the previous.

When temperatures began to drop, an amazing thing happened. I became stronger. As much as I would like to attribute that to my own body, I know it is because of the weather. When one is trapped in an apartment, office, and car, one does not have any sort of relationship to the weather other than a minor, brief, discomfort. But when I'm forced to submit to the mercy of Mother Nature, the whole world changes.

As I ride, I can't help but feel shame and pity towards all those other folks I see hiding from the world in their cars. I wonder how they would fair if all kind of motor transportation were to disappear. They are weak. That feeling of superiority and importance that they get everytime they throw their lives at the pump is nothing more than illusion. We are the strong. We know ourselves and the planet. We will survive. When it rains, gather water. I don't hate cars. I kind of hate drivers. But mostly I hate how weak it has made the top species on earth. Where have we gone?

Finally realizing your place in the world like this provides an erie sense of freedom.

Chapter II

Every ride home the past few months has been miserable. It's hotter than most folks can even imagine here. There have been dust storms that have turned day to night and thunderstorms that soak you to the bone then disappear within a matter of seconds almost. Yet every day I think about riding. Is this what addiction is? I always thought of myself as immune from addiction. I've tried smoking but get bored with it after a few weeks. People have mistaken me for an alcoholic but I've gone without drinking plenty of times and only missed it a little. So why can't I stop myself from riding?

In August/September of 2008 I bought my first bike. It was the first time I'd even ridden a bike since I was probably 10 or 11 years old and I didn't think much of it at the time. Honestly I bought it because I was tired of walking to school in the heat. Soon it became part of my commute to my previous job. It was stolen in the summer of 09 and a few months later I bought my second one. When it was stolen I didn't even care that much as I was planning on getting a car anyway. Time went on and I grew more and more weary of riding. It got to the point during the holiday season of 2010 that I pretty much quit riding all together.

Then something happened. I started to get fat. I've never been a very vain person but I certainly didn't want to be fat. My diamondback that I had bought a year and a half earlier had lost a pedal and I was left with a spindle (the pedals were those cheap plastic rubber ones that I never bothered to replace). I took it to the shop the last week of January. By this time I had quit my previous job and was left with the one I'm currently at. Once I took it to the shop for a little tune up and pedal fix (the spindle was stripped from previous removal attempts) I began to get a little excited at the prospect of riding again.

The very next week I began doing the full commute that I still do today. I realized that my attitude toward riding had made a complete turn around and now I can't seem to think about much else. Well, much else accept maybe getting a motorcycle ;)

Chapter 1

As soon as I finished putting together my fixie I took it out for a spin in the parking lot of my apartment complex to get a feel for the new riding style. It was a strange feeling, almost nostalgic. Isn't that what a six year old will do when he or she gets a new bike for christmas or birthday? I'm not saying that I felt like a kid again, it's more like I felt different. I've never ridden any of my other bikes around a parking lot. When I bought them I rode them as briefly as possible because I don't like people watching me ride (ironically) and didn't even try to get it properly adjusted. So why did I enjoy myself so much in my own parking lot? Is it a territorial thing? I could accept that if I didn't end up riding through the neighboring lot as well. Fewer eyes on me that know exactly what to look for? That makes sense as well but the residents that were out coupled with the fact that I know exactly what to look for cancles it out. So what is it?

I pondered this thought briefly before I accepted the explination that the feeling came from riding something I made myself. I wanted to ride it. In fact the next day I even changed out of my pajamas just to go out and ride it around some more. I haven't left the lot yet, but I haven't really felt any sort of need to. Sure I could be scared of traffic and pedestrians and not being able to stop or dismount in any sort of attractive way yet. But that didn't stop me when I got my first real road bike and clipless pedals, I still wasn't accustomed to the integrated shifting yet.

This is an extraordinary phenominon that isn't explained because so few people even find themselves in a similar situation anymore.

Prologue

I haven't been a "cyclist" for that long. I've only been riding a fixie for a short while. What this has taught me is that one doesn't have to necessarily dedicate their life to finding themselves in order to, you know, find themself. I've been riding my entire life, but it was only recently that I was able to stop blaming my bike for all my woes. Since then I have spent many hours pondering the humble bike and all that it can tell someone who is willing to listen.

I don't expect someone to read this, hell I would prefer if no one did. I just like to write and in this digital age we're in, I find my wrist gets more sore each time I try to hand write something. It's an unfortunate inconvenience since notebooks are much cheaper than computers, but I wont deny that something good could come out of this.

This manuscript is nothing more than a compilation of the thoughts that run through my head as I ride. Sometimes I'll be experiencing the so-called "zen thing" that those hipsters are always talking about while I ride my own fixie, sometimes I'll be enjoying the smooth ride on one of my other bikes, but I will always be on a two wheeled mechanical wonder machine.

Do not expect regular updates.