the last contraption
I’ve been in an unmistakably good mood lately; I feel a kind of ambient contentment that I haven’t for a while now. Why? For one thing, in Des Moines we are finally, finally (I think, I hope) emerging into spring. The days are getting longer, the snow is melting, and it feels like the deepest part of winter is behind us.
For two, I got on my bike again.
I took my first proper ride of the season on Sunday, and it completely shook off my winter doldrums. It was warm, sunny, slightly breezy: perfect sweatshirt weather. The trails were muddy in places, but that just added to the fun. It was exhausting—and thrilling.
After a season off the bike I had to relearn how to move this way: to look farther ahead, anticipate, adjust to what comes. There’s a constant stream of changing context to handle. My rides start downtown on streets, sidewalks, bikelanes, maneuvering with cars. Then the local trail by the river, sharing with joggers, skaters, people fishing, kids being hooligans. Then the regional trail: a bicycle highway, straightaways, speed. Then more local trails, more streets, and all in reverse on the way back. Endless different views of the world and other people in the world.
My senses were utterly engaged the whole time. There’s a particular sharpness and clarity that snowmelt gives the air. I’d never noticed it before like I did dismounting at the end of the day, inhaling, my whole being full and giddy with it.
I taught myself how to ride without hands on the handlebars. I’d been jealous for ages of the nonchalant hands–free riders around town; now I’m cool like them. It’s not as hard as I expected, mostly a matter of gentle course corrections and momentum. The bike is designed to stay upright—I just had to keep it upright under me!
I love my bike as an object, a contraption. The tactility of braking and shifting, the click and whirr of chain, gears, wheels—the bike itself is as much a part of a ride’s sensory experience as the scenery. It’s unabashedly (elegatly, simply) a machine; even better, it’s a machine I power myself.
What else nourishes mind, body, and spirit so well?