Since January I have been planning a great biking excursion. May is National Bike Month and in an effort to raise awareness around alternate modes of transit, I have decided to bike to work on May 14th. As I am preparing mentally for the 20+ mile trip from my house in Detroit to my office in Birmingham, I can’t help but think about and reread sections of one of my favorite books from graduate school entitled “Outside Lies Magic” by John R. Stilgoe. According to the author, “It is a book about awareness in ordinary surroundings,” and I encourage you all to read it.
The Book.
The very first paragraph of the book reads:
“Get out now. Not just outside, but beyond the trap of the programmed electronic age so gently closing around so many people at the end of our century. Go outside, move deliberately, then relax, slow down, look around. Do not jog. Do not run. Forget about blood pressure and arthritis, cardiovascular rejuvenation and weight reduction. Instead pay attention to everything that abuts the rural road, the city street, the suburban boulevard. Walk. Stroll. Saunter. Ride a bike and coast along a lot. Explore.”
As “the day” gets closer, I continue sharing my plan with those around me. Some are really excited, some are indifferent, and others simply scoff at such a “crazy” idea. “You’ve moved to the wrong city” is a common reply to my enthusiasm. But this doesn’t deter me. Biking is not only an alternate mode of transit, it is a way of seeing the world that isn’t possible in a car.
“Why not explore by car? Automobile exploring insulates the motorist from every sort of nuance. The car moves too fast for its driver to notice much, and when it slows, it obstructs then jams traffic. Rarely can it safely pull over to the side of the road, onto the shoulder legally intended to receive it but nowadays harboring weed-masked ditches, broken glass, nails, tangled barbed wire, smashed shopping carts. Always its engine drowns out whispers; always its windows, its air-conditioning shut out odors. Always it bulks too large to turn easily into eight-foot-wide roads left from wagon days. Even when it is equipped with four-wheel-drive, trees and gates and mud and great rocks herd it back onto pavement, onto rutted roads meandering between obstacles. But worst of all for the explorer, the car attracts notice. Exploring requires the cloak of invisibility bicyclists and walkers quickly take for granted.”
The Bike.
While I agree with the general sentiment expressed by Stilgoe above, a 20+ mile bike commute to work everyday is not the most feasible option (at least not for me), therefore, I will continue to rely on (and be grateful for) my car. And, yes, cars will continue to be a necessity in the near future. This is not a post about an automobile-free world, instead, it is about the conscious act of slowing down and exploring the world around us.
Stay tuned to see if I survive the Great Bike Ride to Birmingham!