I’ve related some of this elsewhere and when. Like many young men, I once thought I was “all that,” or the “next big thing.” I’m referring to my abortive “career” in sanctioned road bicycle racing. I catted up fast. So (like so many young men before and since) I thought I was gonna be something. Before I learned otherwise, I committed to the whole Idea. I sold my car and bought a super-duper race bike. My plan was that I would use the old bike as my vehicle. This would give me more training time, and save me the necessity of paying for a car, and paying to put gas in it.
Books have been written covering what I did not know about utility cycling.
At that time, I was working a terrible job. It was in a factory. A very dirty, loud, dangerous factory. I wasn’t getting paid much either. I worked on the “graveyard shift.” That meant I started work at 11:00 P.M. and left the plant at 7:30 A.M. Shift workers fight a constant battle with sleep deprivation. I don’t do sleep deprivation well. That may have influenced some of my decisions.
The plant was about 20 miles from where I lived, most of it on rural roads. I reasoned that I could ride the bike to work. After all, I rode more than 20 miles on a routine basis. In fact, I considered that a very short ride.
Short or not, it still took time. I allowed my self a generous two hours for that first ride in to the plant. That meant getting up at 7:00 P.M., eating, and getting ready to leave for work at 9:00. I hadn’t considered the darkness factor.
I had absolutely nothing in the way of lights. Sure, I had reflectors on the bike, but…
For the first couple of miles things went well. I was in town. It was late enough so that there wasn’t much in the way of traffic. There were streetlights. I really didn’t begin to have misgivings until I reached the edge of the town.
Suddenly it was dark. Very dark. More, I was at the top of a very long steep grade. In moments the bike felt like it was going faster than I had ever gone, and I couldn’t see a stinkin’ thing!
At that time in my life I was young, immortal, invincible, and indestructible. Even so, the idea of a crash did penetrate my forebrain. I hit the brakes. I continued to ride. Actually, I continued to grope my way forward, at a pace only slightly greater than a walk. In those days we didn’t have cyclocomputers. I didn’t need one. I knew this route well. After an hour on the bike, I realized I was going to be late for work. I’d only covered about six or seven miles. No help for it. Press on!
I was rescued. A friend, who lived near me, and drove the same route to the same job, saw me. He drove a battered VW van. He stopped and picked me and my bike up. Saved!
I entered into an arrangement with my friend. I split the gas money for the inward commute. Each night he picked me and the bike up. I would then work my shift, and ride home in the morning. This was not a perfect arrangement, but it worked. For a while anyway.
I remember my first commute in to work on a bike very well. I lived just under 20 miles the back way(county rd vs US) from my job at a lumber plant. I worked first shift, 7AM-3:30PM so I needed lights for the ride in too. I had only what could be described as a candle compared to today's lights, but it was good enough, and a rear blinkie. I'll always remember that day, the 6th of March 2006. It was cool, in the fifties, but there was the threat of rain. I started out without rain gear but it began to rain and I put it all on. I got hot and the rain stopped after a few miles so I took it off. I had no idea what time it was and only a vague idea of how far away I was(I rarely went the back way driving). It felt like I would never get there, but I did and was glad I rode in. I sprained my ankle pretty good that day soon after starting my shift. I still rode home(with an awesome 20+mph tailwind) but I took the next couple of mornings in with my Dad who drove the same way at basically the same schedule. The next week, I started riding both ways on the bike, and never looked back. I commuted 3 years to that job, always on the bike. Rode through some really bad weather and had some battles with dogs. Had a pretty spectacular crash one time due to hitting an unseen exhaust pipe in the road because of my super dim light. It felt like an adventure every day and I don't regret doing it. Now my commute is only 5.5 miles round trip and I barely get warmed up before arriving. :)
ReplyDeleteWow! Yes! I'm with you all the way. Each trip to, or from, work is an adventure. The days I ride in are the best days I have. Thanks for sticking with it, and thanks for sharing this story.
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