Bike Haiku 2, and Reflection

Rupture, tear, puncture;
hiccups, snap, and broken chains:
Learn patient lessons.

Revised (26 Jan 2011):
Puncture, tear, split chain;
learning these patient lessons:
Patch, splice, replace, mend.

~

I think of Brazil and the "bad spirit" I had on my shoulder at every turn. Things are not so bad and, at least, I do not have to argue for the pertinence of transdisciplinary study. Learning maintenance for my bike has also demanded a practice of patience, attention, and responsivity. It has its costs, but I still want to smile at the motorists who think themselves wiser. I wonder: Do they think I'm poor? Without a car? Silly or crazy? Perhaps someday we'll be "mad as motorists" rather than "mad as hatters;" of course, I think most consider me a mad biker these days.

Yesterday, a nice young woman stopped her car at a Lake Mary Road intersection. Late Mary is often a fast-paced road and causes me a some consternation. She slowed and I glanced toward the car. She gave me a smile and a thumbs up. The gesture, small and corteous but apparently enthusiastic, has stuck with me. Especially on that road motorists feel entitled to drive however they wish; that, I suppose, is true which ever road you're on. Cyclists have a lane on Lake Mary, but few need to stay on it for long and many bike on the left shoulder to get into the awkwardly situated neighborhood in which I live. Though not inappropriate, I object because it is narrow in parts and it can confuse other cyclists, pedestrians, and motorists. I think that this young woman was sharing the road well, not just spatially, but mentally as well; a behavior for which I am thankful.

Biking, I am always learning lessons. On one's bike, one is open to the world, uninsulated. Even in the morning when I am all bundled up, I have to pay keen attention to early morning walkers and joggers, the occasional homeless person, the unlit cyclist, the overconfident or groggy driver. Riding in the cold, especially where the temperature changes so drastically, means consideration of only what I need to wear but also what I will need to wear in the early afternoon, the warmest part of the day. I think of work and study and leisure. Though I do not discourage my totemic raven, I often call myself a turtle - thinking fondly of a story of two friends, then in love, speaking in Spanish ("tortuga") to a young boy in the New York City Subway - as I unfurl all my apparent belongings, rearrange, repack, unload, deliver, and utilize them. A turtle on wheels, a raven hovering overhead, a loaf of bread and book near-at-hand.