There’s considerable discussion these days about whether global warming is a reality, even though 9 of 10 scientists agree that it is. (Does it ever bother you that scientists all get lumped together in questions of science? I mean, does a researcher of mosquito-borne diseases know any more about global warming than, say, a fork lift operator?) Sometimes the whole debate feels like socialists vs. capitalists (we must legislate a collective response vs. these unnecessary fixes shackle freedom and prosperity). The verbal sparring takes center stage for the sake of “hits” and “followers”. Lost in the noise is the actual need to care for the planet.
Human activity is polluting our waterways and oceans, clogging highways, decreasing the number of animal and plant species, compromising air quality, and multiplying who knows what carcinogens, as well as radioactive waste. We read of the exponentially increasing use of air conditioners; of Uber harming mass transit systems, while adding to traffic congestion; of plastics filling the oceans, strangling aquatic life, and increasingly becoming part of what we eat; and that the President wants to put the brakes on auto fuel efficiency improvement. Perhaps global warming is too remote of an idea for people to grasp. Maybe we can all agree that sitting in traffic an hour each day is a problem. Maybe we can agree that paying $200 per month for electricity is a problem. Maybe we can agree that high levels of mercury in fish is not healthy. Maybe we can agree that leaf blowers, aside from making a lot of noise and spewing combustion by-products, are pretty useless.
Recently I rode a train from Montreal to New York City. I didn’t have a thermometer in my pocket but the cars had to be 65ºF or cooler. Riders, one by one riffled through their luggage to find jackets and sweat pants. It was a hot day; not everyone came prepared for sitting in a refrigerator. I walked to the dining car and encountered one woman standing between cars. She didn’t seem happy. “Are you okay?” “I’m trying to thaw,” she answered. Does this make sense? Why should we have to carry sweaters in August in order to go to the grocery store, or to a movie, or to a restaurant, or to ride on mass transit? It’s one thing to use energy to pamper ourselves; it is ridiculous when we waste energy and make ourselves miserable.
Lights drive me crazy. Light the room as much as you need, but why leave the lights on (as well as other devices) when you leave a room? People act as though they have to douse a fire and then restart it with a flint stone when they return. No, it’s a light switch.
I’m not suggesting we return to the days of the cavemen. Asceticism does not equal holiness, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be conscientious. If you need to go to the store that’s a block away, walk; don’t drive. Unless you have 6 kids, don’t drive a vehicle that’s named for the Yukon because it’s the size of the Yukon. I’m trying to train waiters and waitresses not to bring me plastic straws. I can tip the glass and the fluids just pour out. Imagine that.
Whomever you may be, you should be concerned about the environment, if not out of respect for your neighbors, out of concern for your own physical and mental health, as well as for your children and grandchildren. From the Christian perspective, humans are stewards. This is God’s planet. He made it for us, I think I can say, but he certainly wants us to care for it. How we care for the planet tends to be similar to how we care for animals, which tends to be similar to how we care for other people…and all this is linked to our respect for God himself. Anyway, it is not my intention for this to be an essay on energy conservation or care for the environment. I just want to talk about commuter biking.
I learned to ride a bike when I was six or seven. I learned on my older sisters’ bike. I recommend learning on such a bike for a couple reasons. One, such bikes have fat tires, which makes for easier balancing; and, two, being a “girl’s” bike means it has a low center bar. The low bar allows for an easy step-down—a nice advantage for someone learning how to balance.
I worked at it for awhile with my sisters’ help. It was a case of too many cooks in the kitchen; I had to send them away. Learning to balance is something you have to experience. How do you explain the sensation of balance? I’ve read that balancing a bike is a matter of steering micro-adjustments as the rider strives to keep himself vertical to earth and in line with the wheels of the bike. Whatever. Sometimes understanding something propositionally is not as useful as understanding it experientially. Our body, too, has learning capacity.
Learning to ride a bike is one of the great rites of passage, like learning to walk (which we don’t tend to remember but we can observe in the young), or learning to swim, or learning to tie your shoes…or tie a tie. The balance thing is frustrating because for a time you just don’t get it, and yet you know that most people do learn to ride a bike. (Is there something wrong with me that I can’t get this?) While it seemed like ages, once I sent my sisters away it took me about 10 minutes to learn to ride. First you experience that with a little propulsion and a vertical position, you can coast a bit. Then you brave a pedal revolution and, before you know it, you’ve managed to balance for 20’. Once you can balance 20’ you can balance for 20 miles. It was one of the happiest experiences of my life. I didn’t know how I was doing it. All I knew was that I couldn’t do it and then I could. I still experience amazement when I get on a bike, even though I’ve climbed on a bike at least 10,000 times.
Bicycling has always been a joy to me, for many reasons. It’s good cardiovascular exercise. It’s easy on the knees. It’s fun just tooling along, feeling the breeze, taking in the sights, breathing the clean air (which you can do if you pick your spots). It’s fun to be out with other bikers, hikers, or runners, who are enjoying the same experience.
It’s an emotional release. Most of my riding has been commuter miles. Instead of arriving at work frustrated with slow-moving traffic, or frustrated by the hair-raising exploits of Mario Andretti wanna-be’s, I arrive at work relaxed. Biking has its hair-raising moments but the effort of biking tends to burn off tension related to scary traffic issues—a benefit you can never get while driving a car. Similarly, while my work was often infuriating, the ride home would always provide a release of tension. And, finally, there is the benefit of knowing that commuter biking reduces transportation pollution. Biking has been a real God-send to me, and I commend it to anyone who can work out the logistics.
Recent Comments