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Biker's Diary: The Best of Ten Years

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Chapter One

Forward

It wasn't easy to select published columns to include in this "Best of" book. I would have liked to include almost all of the columns. But since that wasn't very practical for many reasons, I did not find an ideal method of selection. Should I do an average of one a month for each of the ten years? Or one for each season? What I ended up with was a very random collection, and hopefully I found at least my own favorites.

I decided that the best way to start was not with the first column, but with the tenth anniversary one, which provides a better introduction than anything I could add.

And I would be remiss if I did not mention a couple of people who have been important in this process: first, Spouse Roger who never wanted his name in the newspaper but continues to put up with it. And Melissa Vander Plas, who has been editor for most of these ten years and always infinitely patient and supportive. Also, our owner/publisher, Dave Phillips, who generously allowed me to use this material that had been written for his newspaper. Thanks to Marv Eggert who shot the beautiful cover photo. Last, but not least, thanks to readers, without whom we wouldn't have a newspaper to publish!

21 October 2009

Ten years goes by very quickly

When someone asks why I write this column, I have had no ready answer. Thinking about that seems timely right now, because this week marks an important anniversary: the first "Biker's Diary" column appeared in what was then the River Valley Reader on October 25, 1999. It has already been ten years of weekly columns!

At one time when I was on a panel of community columnists for a different newspaper, one of the other writers responded very quickly to the "Why write" question: "I write to make sense of the world around me." I tried that on, but it didn't fit me. I finally concluded that I write for many reasons, and in looking over ten years' worth of columns, that still holds true: I write to learn, laugh, and feel. And if anyone reads it, hopefully they will do the same.

At first, I wrote a lot about the joy of being out on a bike, and the marvels of the available trails both here when our place was still a weekend spot, and in Lincoln NE where we were living at the time. Often things that happened on the bike or on the trails would remind me of other stuff that would then become fodder for my next column.

Sometimes I write to remember people and how they were important to others, as I did when I wrote about Charlie Pick-up, whom I believe was Minnesota's first environmentalist. In the 1940's and early `50's he wandered along the roads near my hometown picking up trash, sorting it as useable and not, into various gunnysacks he carried along. Another time I wrote about one of my earliest Lanesboro friends, Kathy Brewster, and how I missed her presence in town after her untimely death.

I have written to commemorate important events. After 9/11/01, when I was stuck in Denver for five days enroute to Bangkok, Thailand, I wrote about that experience, and in fact, wrote about it for three weeks in a row! And I've been able to sometimes give some needed publicity to deserving organizations seeking help from the public, my favorite being the recent Honor Flights.

A lot of lesser events have also been topics for my column over the years, such as when the raccoons got into the food I had left out of doors in what I called my 'refrigerator annex.' I've written about birthdays and anniversaries, about the dog, Mugs, at the then-local gas station, and about the neighbor's dog and the other neighbor's cattle. Travel has been a frequent topic, both domestic and international trips. I've written about cultural differences, and going to weddings and funerals in Southeast Asia.

Sometimes writing has been a way to cope with stress. Never was that more true than after I had been diagnosed with a particularly virulent form of blood cancer, Acute Myeloid Leukemia. From the day of the diagnosis, my Biker's Diary was my constant companion. I became the "queen of sheen" with my bald head, and writing about those experiences was for me an excellent way of dealing with them.

It's been a great ride over the past ten years. Now, because of looking over my notebooks filled with the columns, I have made two decisions. Some readers have asked if I was ever going to put these in a book. I am, and will be finishing up the details of getting Biker's Diary: The Best of Ten Years published, maybe soon. Interested readers can watch this column for information on how to get a copy.

Second, I decided I like a lot of what I wrote, right from the start, and a good place to end this week's page is at the beginning. (So, on this date in the newspaper version, I reprinted the very first page of my Biker's Diary! In this ten-year anniversary collection, just read on: it is next!)

25 October 1999

Freedom in stages: pedal power

As the youngest of three children, I was impatient with being relegated to a tricycle when my older brother and sister already had two-wheelers. I remember putting up with it only long enough to convince my father that I could ride it and deserved to graduate to a "big kids bike." Then I was equally insistent I would not use training wheels. The result was that I learned the balance of the bicycle by his holding me up until I could do it alone. I still marvel at his patience. Finally, when I had mastered it, I thrilled in the exhilaration of riding further and further from home—on my own!

That sense of freedom—or perhaps now it is release—is still associated with my bicycle. Our area has arguably the best and most accessible system of bike trails anywhere. So, when we first moved here, it was with joy that I headed out, first on a borrowed bike and then with a brand new one of my own.

We all know we should ride or walk the trails for the exercise: it's good for us. But doing something only because it is good for me isn't always my best motivator. Capturing that sense of freedom, which I first associated with my childhood bicycle, is a far more powerful motivator. Even more appealing is the sense of relaxation, the thrill of achievement, and yes, I will even admit to a little twinge of feeling righteous about it. There is definitely something to "pedal power."

In retrospect, getting a bicycle—a two-wheeler—was the first of many steps which felt like newly acquired freedom. Getting my driver's license was another stage: I could drive to surrounding towns that I could not get to on my bicycle, and I could take friends along. My parents going on a trip and leaving us home without a chaperone was an important first. Leaving home myself was another big step. Going away on my first company-paid business trip made me feel terribly important, and of course free: there was no boss around to be in charge or making or second-guessing decisions!

Perhaps those stages of freedom were really signals of trust: my parents first trusted me with a "big kids bike," along with its expanded territory, not simply because I had learned to ride without falling off, but because they trusted me to be responsible with that freedom. The lesson learned was that having fulfilled their...