I hear spring has finally broken loose from winter. Along with last week’s dips below freezing and rain that wanted to be snow, we also enjoyed some 50s and 60s with sunshine sprinkled in.
Nice.
Of course, that is not to say that May won’t have some days that feel more like March than June. It’s where we live.
If you are a Wednesday regular with the Finger Lakes Times, then you know I often write about walking or sitting along the city lakefront with my dog, Rabia. The benefit to Rabia is obvious; for me, it is where I often find my writing muse. Watching and listening intently to the micro and the macro in the present moment turns out to be a great prompt for writing poetry or even conjuring up a “Denim Spirit” column.
Ironically, I don’t write much about bicycling even though I spend far more time doing it. I ride a pedal-assist e-bike, more real bike than moped masquerading as a bicycle. (I’m not a fan of those.) A pedal-assist e-bike can behave very much like an “acoustic” (non-electric) bicycle. In fact, a variety of studies demonstrate that pedal-assist e-bikes can deliver 70% to 80% of the exercise value of acoustic bikes.
Of course, that depends upon the rider using the lower-power modes to make their body work harder, saving higher-power modes for hills. Accordingly, e-bikes may also inspire longer rides and more frequent commutes.
I replaced a beloved acoustic bike after back surgery a few years ago. Hills aggravated the problems with my back. Almost immediately, I also realized how much I could reduce my carbon footprint by commuting with it. Trek’s “Rule of 430” reports that riding one of their bikes for 430 miles instead of driving a gas-powered automobile offsets the carbon emissions of manufacturing the average Trek bicycle.
Carbon-neutral commuting at its best.
More than better stewardship, though, I am compelled by beauty to ride more often and farther than before. Even on some cold and windy days in December and March, I don high-tech gear and go for it. But now, in this unfolding warmth of spring, the wind in my face opens the window to a close encounter with beauty as I ride along low-traffic country roads on either side of the lake.
A 20-mile ride this time of year offers a bonanza: osprey nests with young’n poking their heads up; snakes and turtles along the side of the road; dark, textured soil freshly plowed alongside newly green acres coming to life; creeks that trickle in summer now bloated into fast-moving rivers and cascading waterfalls; and horses, cows, sheep, goats, and chickens close enough to smell. Even just the variety of farms and gardens, old barns, and historic markers reveal more than can be seen from a fast-moving car.
When you say New York, people who live in other states probably don’t imagine the beauty of our pastoral hills dotted with family farms and vineyards. The forests, lakes, rivers, and streams still shape the landscape here, even where hosting agriculture. Riding a bike along country roads pulls back the curtains on its beauty.
It turns out if I use my power modes wisely, visiting beauty is as good for my body as for my mind and spirit.
Hmm. Using power more wisely is a good metaphor for curing what ails us.
Cameron Miller is a New York author with two novels and two collections of essays and poetry available in bookstores and online. Read more and reach him at www.cameronmiller.org.