Cycling Away

 

When I was in school, I pestered my father to get me a cycle, but I could not close the argument with him. Beyond the plain metal frame and two wheels, my vision of a cycle was unshakably tied to the notion of ‘freedom’, a devil-may-care attitude and the capability to simply pedal away from life’s problems. Unfortunately for me, my father too must have arrived at the same calculations as I and forcefully shot down this puerile and feeble attempt at a rebellion. Added to my father’s reluctance, was the very real problem of terrible traffic and road conditions with so many vehicles jostling for space, absence of cyclist lanes, and a general insensitivity towards cyclists on the road. So ended my initial attempt at cycling.

Now, two decades later and with the wind ruffling through my hair, the sunlight on my face, the steady roll of the twin wheels under me accompanied by the satisfied sound of rubber on asphalt and gravel, I am living out my cycling fascinations of yore.

Working from home for the past many months, stuck to a seat and rivetted on the computer screen for hours at end with only a small window to look out of, I was starving for any real interaction with the outside world. Being in a new country was becoming a strange, exciting but ultimately, unfulfilling experience with the global pandemic raging outside and multiple lockdowns coming into effect. As winter descended into spring, I could start seeing the natural beauty of my newly adopted town but could not touch and feel it. I could not walk over the great distances in this vast, open landscape; neither could I drive anywhere since I have no car presently. It seemed I was consigned to the prospect of looking at the blossoming spring beauty through a window.

Then, I got me a cycle – a used one – with a crude silver paint job, iffy brakes, a hard-as-stone (it seems!) seat, a paralyzed side-stand and non-functioning shock absorbers which deliver a truly tactile experience.

So, after my daily shift ends, I cycle out into the unknown streets and lanes of my town, sometimes using my phone navigation but mostly, just venturing out with no destination in mind. In this way, I have acquainted myself with some pretty parks and trails nearby which offer the joy of being under great trees, passing over bubbling brooks or sitting on the newly-sprout green grass. Dandelions with their bright yellow faces are growing all over like weeds, birds noisily chirp from their nests among dense shrubs and thickets, squirrels and hares happily trot everywhere. It is like a symphony of nature and my cycle affords me a ringside view like nothing else. I stop wherever I feel like for however long I feel like; I rest my cycle alongside a tree or just lay it over the grass while I contemplate my place in these surroundings. I have started to take out my cycle for grocery trips too, though there is the constraint of riding back fully weighed down by my purchases which does not make for very smooth or enjoyable riding. Sometimes I also ride through quiet neighborhoods with kids playing or cycling outside while their parents engage in more mundane tasks of mowing the lawn, clearing out deadfall or planting new bulbs out in the garden. My cycle is helping me in slowly exploring the place I call home now.

My experience is also aided immensely by the conscientious and generous attitude of people here on the road. Pedestrians and cyclist have right of way on most crossings, there are designated cycle lanes, sidewalks and pavements are well-maintained – all these go a long way in making my ride easy and pleasurable. I can imagine how if I were growing up in this country and my younger self would have asked my father for a cycle, I hear my father happily saying ‘yes’.