Urban Cycling Adventure
Consider this a residual of the “Toronto Effect.” My cycling experiments on Toronto ’s streets taught me two things: urban
cycling is pretty interesting (even exciting/scary at times) and...I suck at
it.
My cycling skills have improved significantly over the past
two years. This is a good thing because,
frankly, when I started I was a menace to both myself and anyone/anything in
general proximity. I’m far less
dangerous today as I pedal along mostly deserted country roads. Me on city streets? A different story.
I know I sorely lack a few critical skills. The Chicago Lakefront Trail will either be my
salvation or demise. Time will tell.
A century ago, Chicago ’s
civic-minded embraced a plan developed by a certain Daniel Burnham. His plan for the city was revolutionary in
many respects, but the plan was never implemented in its entirety. Here’s where the elders were brilliant - they
adopted a central tenet of Burnham’s plan: “The Lakefront by right belongs to
the people," wrote Burnham. "Not a foot of its shores should be
appropriated to the exclusion of the people.”
And so, yesterday, I pedaled the entire length of the
Chicago Lakefront Trail. It’s roughly 36
miles roundtrip. A three-hour adventure.
I was delighted, impressed, amazed, tense, freaked-out and
utterly charmed. I hope to “do the
Trail” one day per week for the rest of this season. It’s quite an adventure.
The trail begins well south of the city center. There never was much development there and
the beaches, back in the segregated 60’s, were the province of the “coloreds.” The area remains undeveloped, sparsely
traversed. I found that stretch
soothing. Rolling farther north, there’s
been construction/reconstruction. Chicago once had an
airstrip along the lake called Meigs Field.
It was bulldozed several years ago and the land returned to natural
habitat for migratory birds. I rather
like municipalities that serve up such treats for the general populace. Birders wander about. It’s peaceful. A beautiful dune ecology on
display.
The Trail serves many.
There were quite a few cyclists and runners. They can easily be grouped according to
proficiency. I saw quite a few
impressive athletes and quite a few struggling aspirants. Nice to view hopes, aspirations and (every
now and then) delusions on grand display.
I was passed by an absolutely gorgeous young man who rolled
past on a “beach-cruiser.” Shirtless, deeply bronzed, flip-flopped, lean,
muscular and sporting an impressive ponytail, this honest-to-god Adonis had a
small boy riding in a child’s seat. I
watched as they sped away and, all the while, the young man was gesticulating
and pointing out features of interest to his rapt protégé. Watching them made me happy.
As one approaches the central city area, the Trail gets
crowded. Turns out a whole lotta folks
like to come to the lakefront: roller-bladers, skate-boarders, chaotic families,
oblivious lovers, daredevils, derelicts, people of every age, race and
disposition. Ah, yes, the urban experience! I had deprived myself too long.
I could go on...and on.
From the city center, the trail heads north through well-to-do ‘hoods
and upscale beach environments. The
denizens were well-manicured. The vistas
gorgeous.
The entire Trail is a gift, a joy, a blessing and, at times,
a nerve-wracking adventure. I’m hooked.
As I was nearing the end of my ride, I noticed a rather
comely lass pedaling towards me. I’d
guess she was in her forties. I smiled
and nodded as we drew closer. She, in
turn, blew me a kiss as she rolled by.
I was utterly, squishily charmed.
* * *
* * *
.
11 Comments:
"squishily charmed" Adorbale you! Go get her son!
"The entire Trail is a gift, a joy, a blessing and, at times, a nerve-wracking adventure. I’m hooked."
A metaphor for life...well, I wish it were for me. Maybe I will paint it in neon upon my chest. Who knows. Maybe it will glow.
"Go get her"!?! I wouldn't even know where to begin.
I'm not sure there can be a metaphor for life. I've been trying to wrap my mind around it my entire life. Yeah, life is "all that" (and more). Keep thinking on it long and hard. The glow will come.
that's quite an accomplishment! and sounds like nice scenery. I too have begun a regimen of trying to walk more, not cycle, so my ass doesn't grow roots to this chair! LOL
I agree with W&W. Go get her, boy. You'll know what to do. It's like riding a bicycle. :-)
Ah, how y'all make me smile!
You're singing to the choir, Bella! I've been far too sedentary for far too long. I'm hoping to change all that.
I appreciate the encouragement, Patti, but...it ain't all that simple any more. I've never been glib. Never been quick with "a line." It's even harder now when one considers that I have so much less to offer than what I did when I was younger, stronger, far more confident and wealthier than I am today.
On the other hand, all that I've come to experience and understand mean more to me than I can express...and there just may be someone, somewhere, somehow, who wishes to engage in fair trade.
I'd like that.
WOW. I would love to do that. Such a sense of liberation and achievement. You go, Jonas!!!
I was only in Chicago once and quite enjoyed myself. Sounds like it was a wonderful ride.
I love Chicago and envy you for being there.
Thank you, Selma! I've ridden the Trail three times now. Each time thrills and delights me even more (particularly since I've grown more comfortable cycling in a crowded environment). I've so many thoughts and impressions that I've not yet been able to organize them into coherent form. I'm trying.
Yes, Deb, these rides are wonderful for a great many reasons. This recluse is stretching his legs a bit.
Chicago certainly has its charms, Anna. That's why it's been home to me. Having said that, though, I'll note that a great many cities have their endearments and enticements. Montreal, for example, is a city I find utterly charming and intoxicating.
I have always had trouble with making sure that my feet were on the pedals and watching where I was going. Sigh.
Yes, indeed, Jerry - cycling poses a few challenges. Although I was a competent cyclist decades ago, a loooong hiatus from the sport (and decades of physical aging) left me unprepared for a return to the sport. It took me three years to re-build my skills. This year, after logging more than 2,000 miles in the saddle, I kinda know where my feet and eyes are most times. Sometimes my eyes are fixed squarely on my feet that remain clamped on the pedals as I lie scraped and embarrassed on the street. So it goes. It's all part of the adventure.
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