This is how it was supposed to end: A warm day with a slight undertow of cool breeze, on a bike trail heading west as the morning traffic thrummed somewhere far off. Red-winged blackbirds dipped down from trees, and a passing rider gave me the biker nod.
Tuesday was the last day of my 30-day bike pledge, in which I promised to ride my bike every day for the month of April, and it was lovely.
The challenge, “30 Days of Biking,” was conceived by Patrick Stephenson and Zachariah Schaap. The goal was to get people on their bikes every day, in effect patterning them to think of riding instead of driving.
I had once been crowned “bike hater of the week” for criticizing the explosion of bike lanes and lack of explanation of them. Bike enthusiasts suggested I try biking regularly to experience the joy and hazards.
So I did.
It was a bad year to start. We had four snowstorms in nine days. Some mornings were bitterly cold. Baseball players paid millions to play outside canceled games.
But I had made a pledge, and I was going to keep it, right?
What do you think I am, some sort of sorority girl?
Of course I didn’t keep it. It was nasty out there.
Mother Nature 1, columnist 0.
The first couple of weeks went pretty well. Rode to work a couple of times. Did the lakes. Even rode a few miles on one cold, rainy evening, and it wasn’t unpleasant. I even played the “lifeline” card and rode an exercise bike a couple of times (allowed in emergencies).
Then one day I stood by the window to see if the sleet and snow were abating so I could at least lap the block. My wife took notice.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said.
I drove to work instead and on the way confirmed my decision. A young guy was slogging through the slush, wobbling in and out of traffic. Finally he picked up his bike and began carrying it. OK, now you are just showing off, I thought.
A quote by Emerson popped into my mind: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.”
So, I didn’t ride that day, nor any other day when it seemed silly, or dangerous, to do so.
I called Stephenson to admit I had failed him. Luckily, he’s one of those everybody-gets-a-prize guys.
“That’s entirely OK,” Stephenson said. “If you biked more than you normally would, it’s a success.”
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