Calgary is an awesome place to ride a bike through. Once upon a time the powers that be decided to crosshatch the city with paved bike paths facilitating commuting and riding throughout the city without ever crossing a city street. This morning I left my parent’s house in the far northwest of the city and headed downtown. Within 5 minutes of leaving the house I was on the pathway system and headed south. Mid-week, mid-morning the path was all mine. Gone was the rack loaded with gear. Gone was the handlebar bag, the flag, the florescent vest, the GPS, the expectation of miles, the wonder of where I might sleep tonight. The bike felt light as a feather, like an overpowered muscle car just begging to go faster.
The perfect pavement urged me faster and faster. Like an un-caged animal I let loose, standing up on the peddles, giving it all I got. Paralleling the freeway I felt like I was gaining on the semi-trucks. Where once they used to clip at my heels, today I was making my own way, on my own road. Soon enough I was downtown. I played and danced among the traffic, trackstanding at the red lights and running the yellows when the coast was clear. Hopscotching uptown I weaved up the one-ways and down the side streets. Bump onto the sidewalk, skip to the front of the traffic line and beat them across the intersection. mashing on the pedals, music raging in my earphones. Sunkist pavement, lunchtime pedestrians fill the street, I weave through them like a game of mouse and cat.
After a day of play it was time to head home. Back onto the bike path and hammer the pedals all the way home. 55km for the day and it feels like child’s play. Seems appropriate – the freedom to play.
While I was in town I picked up this t-shirt – never more an appropriate find.
shirt detail
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