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It's National Bike Month, and I'm thinking about my dad. He's 82 and still riding. In fact, he's still riding the same 3-speed Schwinn bicycle that he purchased, used, from a student soon after he began his teaching career at a small college in Wisconsin about 50 years ago. We lived just 6 blocks from his office on campus, so he walked to work if there was snow or rain, but otherwise, he preferred to bike because it was faster and easier to carry his satchel of books and files in his big wire baskets. In the years since he retired, he's continued to bike all around town to do his local business, becoming a loved and familiar figure on that classic Schwinn.
I realized with some surprise that my dad has never locked his bike. Parked almost daily along a busy road near his office for 35 years, his faithful steed remained untethered and unstolen. The frame is rusty, perhaps acting as a theft deterrent, but he's kept the gears oiled and the tires filled. Over the years, he's replaced the tires a few times, the brake pads and the pedals, but most other parts are original. When it comes to carbon footprint, I figure that the resources used to manufacture, maintain and operate his bike have been amortized over 50 years to zero. Meanwhile, the benefits to the planet have accumulated to produce a rather elegant history of one man taking seriously the promise of a sturdy, green machine to last a lifetime.
My dad hasn't thought of himself as a bicycle activist. He owns and drives a car and is not keen on the idea of giving that up someday. He has considered his bike use mainly a practical measure to save money, move relatively quickly around a compact downtown and work out the kinks from grading papers. But, as the years have gone by and the earth has suffered its oil wounds, I've come to see my dad's example as a green beacon of possibility.
When we are urged by local and national governments to take whatever steps we can in our daily lives to reduce our use of fossil fuels, I picture my dad cruising down the driveway on his 3-speed, headed to a Kiwanis meeting. If he can do this at age 82, the possibilities for most people to make at least some of their local trips by bicycle are endless. Bike to Work Day could be, as it was for my father, an ordinary day.
While my dad has ridden a single bike through five decades of bicycle design transformation, the evolution from cruiser to racer to mountain to hybrid to cruiser turned a perfect revolution as his 1950s-style model came back into fashion. Without meaning to, my dad became cool.
Actually, he was cool all along. Teaching is best done by example, and his quiet daily practice was an environmental lesson on the leading edge of green living. Chugging up and down hills helped preserve his health and the health of those hills. I'm proud of my cool dad. Happy Bike Half-Century to everyone who has rolled along with him!
Dear Common Dreams reader, The U.S. is on a fast track to authoritarianism like nothing I've ever seen. Meanwhile, corporate news outlets are utterly capitulating to Trump, twisting their coverage to avoid drawing his ire while lining up to stuff cash in his pockets. That's why I believe that Common Dreams is doing the best and most consequential reporting that we've ever done. Our small but mighty team is a progressive reporting powerhouse, covering the news every day that the corporate media never will. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. And to ignite change for the common good. Now here's the key piece that I want all our readers to understand: None of this would be possible without your financial support. That's not just some fundraising cliche. It's the absolute and literal truth. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. Will you donate now to help power the nonprofit, independent reporting of Common Dreams? Thank you for being a vital member of our community. Together, we can keep independent journalism alive when it’s needed most. - Craig Brown, Co-founder |
It's National Bike Month, and I'm thinking about my dad. He's 82 and still riding. In fact, he's still riding the same 3-speed Schwinn bicycle that he purchased, used, from a student soon after he began his teaching career at a small college in Wisconsin about 50 years ago. We lived just 6 blocks from his office on campus, so he walked to work if there was snow or rain, but otherwise, he preferred to bike because it was faster and easier to carry his satchel of books and files in his big wire baskets. In the years since he retired, he's continued to bike all around town to do his local business, becoming a loved and familiar figure on that classic Schwinn.
I realized with some surprise that my dad has never locked his bike. Parked almost daily along a busy road near his office for 35 years, his faithful steed remained untethered and unstolen. The frame is rusty, perhaps acting as a theft deterrent, but he's kept the gears oiled and the tires filled. Over the years, he's replaced the tires a few times, the brake pads and the pedals, but most other parts are original. When it comes to carbon footprint, I figure that the resources used to manufacture, maintain and operate his bike have been amortized over 50 years to zero. Meanwhile, the benefits to the planet have accumulated to produce a rather elegant history of one man taking seriously the promise of a sturdy, green machine to last a lifetime.
My dad hasn't thought of himself as a bicycle activist. He owns and drives a car and is not keen on the idea of giving that up someday. He has considered his bike use mainly a practical measure to save money, move relatively quickly around a compact downtown and work out the kinks from grading papers. But, as the years have gone by and the earth has suffered its oil wounds, I've come to see my dad's example as a green beacon of possibility.
When we are urged by local and national governments to take whatever steps we can in our daily lives to reduce our use of fossil fuels, I picture my dad cruising down the driveway on his 3-speed, headed to a Kiwanis meeting. If he can do this at age 82, the possibilities for most people to make at least some of their local trips by bicycle are endless. Bike to Work Day could be, as it was for my father, an ordinary day.
While my dad has ridden a single bike through five decades of bicycle design transformation, the evolution from cruiser to racer to mountain to hybrid to cruiser turned a perfect revolution as his 1950s-style model came back into fashion. Without meaning to, my dad became cool.
Actually, he was cool all along. Teaching is best done by example, and his quiet daily practice was an environmental lesson on the leading edge of green living. Chugging up and down hills helped preserve his health and the health of those hills. I'm proud of my cool dad. Happy Bike Half-Century to everyone who has rolled along with him!
It's National Bike Month, and I'm thinking about my dad. He's 82 and still riding. In fact, he's still riding the same 3-speed Schwinn bicycle that he purchased, used, from a student soon after he began his teaching career at a small college in Wisconsin about 50 years ago. We lived just 6 blocks from his office on campus, so he walked to work if there was snow or rain, but otherwise, he preferred to bike because it was faster and easier to carry his satchel of books and files in his big wire baskets. In the years since he retired, he's continued to bike all around town to do his local business, becoming a loved and familiar figure on that classic Schwinn.
I realized with some surprise that my dad has never locked his bike. Parked almost daily along a busy road near his office for 35 years, his faithful steed remained untethered and unstolen. The frame is rusty, perhaps acting as a theft deterrent, but he's kept the gears oiled and the tires filled. Over the years, he's replaced the tires a few times, the brake pads and the pedals, but most other parts are original. When it comes to carbon footprint, I figure that the resources used to manufacture, maintain and operate his bike have been amortized over 50 years to zero. Meanwhile, the benefits to the planet have accumulated to produce a rather elegant history of one man taking seriously the promise of a sturdy, green machine to last a lifetime.
My dad hasn't thought of himself as a bicycle activist. He owns and drives a car and is not keen on the idea of giving that up someday. He has considered his bike use mainly a practical measure to save money, move relatively quickly around a compact downtown and work out the kinks from grading papers. But, as the years have gone by and the earth has suffered its oil wounds, I've come to see my dad's example as a green beacon of possibility.
When we are urged by local and national governments to take whatever steps we can in our daily lives to reduce our use of fossil fuels, I picture my dad cruising down the driveway on his 3-speed, headed to a Kiwanis meeting. If he can do this at age 82, the possibilities for most people to make at least some of their local trips by bicycle are endless. Bike to Work Day could be, as it was for my father, an ordinary day.
While my dad has ridden a single bike through five decades of bicycle design transformation, the evolution from cruiser to racer to mountain to hybrid to cruiser turned a perfect revolution as his 1950s-style model came back into fashion. Without meaning to, my dad became cool.
Actually, he was cool all along. Teaching is best done by example, and his quiet daily practice was an environmental lesson on the leading edge of green living. Chugging up and down hills helped preserve his health and the health of those hills. I'm proud of my cool dad. Happy Bike Half-Century to everyone who has rolled along with him!