Think outside the car: Bike to work week bloggers
A vintage commute
I am by no means an accomplished cyclist. Last summer was my first time on a bicycle in several years as an unrelated back injury had left me with a prognosis of assisted walking. I was lucky, though, and with an aunt’s bike pulled from 20-some years of storage I hit the road.
Hit the road in the sense that I walk up hills and occasionally take breaks by leaning against a convenient post or rail, but it is well worth the feeling of freedom cruising through a softly whipping wind. …usually.
Tuesday morning, a wicked headwind gave me quite a workout, but even with legs shaky from exhaustion (and a sore backside!) I arrived with a happy smile that I never have when driving to work.
I am still using that borrowed bike. The three gears slip occasionally and the brakes are not reliable, but it is lightweight and easy to handle and gets me where I want to go — and I love the basket!
-- Ellen Madden, Davenport
Turkey day
Tuesday was a little warmer. I knew how long it would take me so I slowed down my pace a bit. I saw much more of my neighbor’s landscaping and even saw mallards sitting on front lawns! I would have missed that in the car.
Then I saw him: a turkey at the edge of the road ahead. I slowed down to get a good look at him. This has got to be one of the turkeys that folks in Rock Island are always mentioning.
I approached warily and he didn’t charge me and for that I was grateful. I have heard that he will approach cars and people in full on-charge mode in parking lots. I was not the recipient of any latent turkey aggression. Whew!
I also made it to work with two raw eggs intact, but without my wallet. It’s harder to go back for something you forget. :) Great ride! I think I prefer the morning commute.
-- Heidi Woeber, Rock Island
Ride & prejudice
Tuesday’s commuting included a bike and bus run to Bettendorf for an afternoon meeting. It’s a great way to avoid climbing hills in the middle of the day and I can actually get some work done while riding.
When I first started riding the bus a couple years ago I had the distinct feeling I was being watched. It seemed the other commuters were a little weary of a guy in a suit and tie on the bus.
Come to think about it I doubt the others really even noticed me at all those first weeks. My own anxieties and stereotypes probably just made me think I was being watched.
The more I ride the more I realize I’m no different than anyone else. We all have important places to go.
-- Jeff Cornelius, Davenport