Sore To Soar

I moved out of my brother's in August 2005. Inspired by the bike lanes in my new neighborhood, i swore i'd get a bike. On several occassions i'd stop by the beautiful park just 9 minutes away with a brisk walk, and admire dog walkers and runners by.

Summer ended before i was ready. Not unlike any other year. "Next summer i'm getting a bike," i declared.

Summer of 2006 came and went while i looked for a job. And thus, still no bike.

Last Thursday, i got a bike. I was having Friday off for Easter, and in my mind that was my deadline. Damn it, i'm gonna ride my bike on my day off.

It's only been 17 years and 4 months since i last rode. I lived up in Chico then and my bike was my only means of transportation besides the bus. With the bike, i had a lot more autonomy. I had such a sense of adventure back then. I'd ride all over town, exploring, combing every inch.

Sometimes i rode with my brother W, whom i lived with at the time. We'd go hours on end, covering miles like it was nothing. Today i go 8 minutes on slightly uneven terrain with an uphill grade of a pathetic 0.5%, and my legs are as wobbly at the end as the ride has been. How we take things for granted when we're young and capable!

I will always have the fond memory of coming home with W one night after a party, where there were always willing seniors to serve beer to minors. And there was always enough beer to go 'round. I mean, this is Chico we're talking about! I remember looking up in awe at the big sky full of sparkling stars, not really feeling my body. As if it wasn't me doing the steering or balancing. I was... gliding, mid-air, careless and free.

Today i ride again. There is just something very transcendent about keeping at the motion while the world passes you by. Wind whipped through my hair relentlessly, totally mussing it up. Clouds were hanging low, as if a storm was imminent. I didn't give a shit. What liberation! I know this is the closest i'll get to flying. Sure, 17 years later, i am rusty as hell. Yet it's as exhilirating as i remember it. Perhaps more.

On the first day i kept looking for a rear-view mirror. Today i realize: This is what's great about biking. It's not about looking back.