I love riding my bike around town and through the city. It’s always made me feel connected to where I live. When you get places by bike, you become more familiar with the terrain, have a better sense of how things are laid out, and are simply more up close and personal with the buildings, trees, bridges, twists and turns.
I rode all over campus and town when I went to JMU, always popping my seat off and taking it inside with me; a rash of seat thefts had been plaguing the campus, and I wasn’t about to become another victim. I carried it into my dorm, into class in the bluestone buildings, into Joker’s pub for dollar pitchers night.
When I moved to Portland, Oregon, the most bike-friendly city I had ever seen, I delighted in coasting down the sloping hill toward the river from my little shared bungalow on 26th Ave, over the Morrison Bridge, and up 10 blocks of streets lined with old brick buildings to get to where I waited tables at Old Town Pizza.
Now, several decades later, here I am crossing the Potomac, and riding down the National Mall, in front of the Capitol, behind Union Station, and up across Florida Avenue to get to Union Market. Riding across the city on two tires and powered only by my own effort deepens my connection with a place I have called home since as long as I can remember.
My Corner of the Village 