T-712: A Long Way to Go

So today I took my first longish ride.  I needed to go to Polarity Therapy at Our Lady of Rosary Church. This is an energy based body work is offered as a community service by the Polarity Center, which believes that healing work should not only be available to those who can afford to pay. I have been using the service for at least 5 years. It has helped me immensely.

 I needed to 5 miles each way.  Typically, I got a late start.  I needed to go the five miles in 30 minutes.  This is a brisk, but not unmanageable pace.  It is necessary to keep pushing.

Our Lady of Rosary (aka Our Lady of the Freeway)
is a social justice catholic church by Wayne State

I have been slowly but surely switching over to bike as my primary means of transportation.  This process was in place before we made the decision to take the Portland to Portland trip.  The ever increasing cost of driving (on our bodies, on the earth, and on our wallets) combined with a scary wreck that totaled Wes' truck facilitated this decision.

I have found living without a car in Detroit far easier than I thought it might be.  It is in fact, much easier than it was when I tried it in the early 1990's.  The city is much more pedestrian and bike friendly than it was those years ago.  Detroit is good city for biking.  Despite the almost complete disregard for bikes held by most drivers, the streets are quite empty.  It is possible to cruise backstreets with nary a problem, save avoiding the potholes and broken glass.  It is pretty flat.  There are a lot of trees.

The Hub is one of great places of Detroit, where biking is a
means of  remaking the spirit of the city.

I was struck, again, by the way  rhythmic movement promotes meditation.  I easily slipped into a reverie state when biking, even while biking in the city.  On my way back, I stopped at the City Cafe in Tech Town had a great sandwich while listening to the staff fuss at each other, while I fiddled with my new phone.  I then bopped down to The Hub, the great bike shop in the Corridor.  It began as a community volunteer effort about 10 years ago. I stopped by to get a new rear-view mirror.

It was a classic "nothing is as easy as it looks."  Getting out the remains of the old mirror,  and finding the right combination to get the new mirror to situate took nearly an hour.  The bike tech kept apologizing, but between the biking and the polarity, I was feeling so content, the fiddly, fussy problem didn't make a dent.

I was able to watch the passing parade come through the shop.  In the time I was there, there must have been at least 30 people in and out.  Young, old, all sorts of colors and shapes.  A pair of highly tattooed Euro-hipsters slid in.  The one with long, unkempt, blonde braids asked to trade work for parts.  They struck me as part of the Crusty Tribe, especially as they announced they had just come to Detroit a week ago.

Immediately after they left, two young girls came into the shop.  One was wearing a hijab and had fancyish mountain bike which kept throwing its chain during shifting.  Not only did the staff adjust the cable on the shifter, he also explained how it worked and to fix it in the future.

Next was an older gentlemen who looked life a 1950's jazz musician, complete with a pork pie hat and pleated pants.  Improbably, he was riding a hard tail. I wondered if he got it from his grandson.  A tall elegant man next brought in a beautiful, magenta Schwinn Le Tour from about 1976.  Everyone oohed and aahed over this great American bike.  The only female staff came out and shyly flirted with this tall fellow, who must have been at least 15 years her elder.  Both were flattered by each others' attention.

In comes another fellow wheeling a battered mountain bike.  As the staff begins to tighten the back axle, the man yells, "NOOO...it ain't straight."  Sure enough, the wheel wobbled at least 20 degrees as it barely turned on the axle.  Could it be straightened?   Not without great effort, but the staff went to work tightening rusty and loose spokes, making a way out of no way, finding a way to keep it going against the odds.

Shortly, there after a couple looking for a specialty  item. They were referred to another bike store in the city. In and out, people flowed into to this somewhat gritty community bike shop in the heart of the Cass Corridor. When at last the mirror had been installed, and I was on my way out, one staff member sighed at me wearily.  "I hope it rains....maybe then we'll get a break and can do some repairs."  In the time I was there, all were constantly making repairs, juggling multiple demands and personalities in quick order.  I suppose he meant he wanted to work quietly and meditatively on a single task.

I jumped on my bike and sped off through the city where nearly all the traffic lights were out. Drivers were obviously a bit alarmed at having to negotiate every intersection.  I was reminded again about the beauty of biking.  The sky was blue, the air was cool, the miles smooth.  By the time I made it back home, I had ridden 12 miles, but had seen the richness and variety of community life in our city.  I am sore tonight, but glad to feel parts that have been in disuse and unseen.