Ride the Wind. Chapter 5.

You have to be a special kind of crazy to enjoy being a bicycle commuter. Although we are considered less of a fanatic than our cousin bicycle couriers, we share a lot of the same traits with these urban knights. You have to enjoy the ache in your legs as you attack your pedals, the pounding of your heart as you try to coax more speed out of it, and the fear that fills your heart as a bus cuts you off. You have to laugh at the weather when it is below freezing, keep your chin up in the pouring rain, and bask in the lather you work up during the hot summer months.

A few months into riding my new Sirrus, I had yet to do a trip longer than 20 km. One Sunday morning, I got off the phone with my girlfriend. She didn’t sound too happy and I wanted to cheer her up. I thought of getting her card with an encouraging message. The only problem was that she lived in Mississauga, a suburb of Toronto, which was about 60 km away from my apartment. However, the challenge was too enticing so I grabbed my gear and my bike and took off.

I powered away from York University down Jane Street and onto Steeles Avenue headed west. It was early in the morning so the road was relatively empty and the only thing I had to contend with was the poor condition of the road. Things smoothed out around the Etobicoke area and I enjoyed a long downhill decent into the outskirts of Brampton.

I stopped at a gas station before entering the city and filled up on a Powerbar and a bottle of Gatorade. Revitalized, I pointed my front tire south down Hurontario Street which would take me into Mississauga. Here the streets were perfect and I saw many other road cyclists out for their Sunday morning ride. I felt a sense of community with them and waved as they passed me on their sleek racing machines. They waved or nodded back many flashing a quick smile.

I pulled into my girlfriend’s driveway an hour and 10 minutes later. I quietly left the card hanging on the front door of her house and rode off. As I looked towards the direction of home, my heat sank. Rain clouds. Sure enough, within a few minutes, the skies opened up, and rain came down hard.

I squinted through the rain and was grateful that my helmet had a visor to help shield me from being hit directly by the deluge. Traffic had picked up and I focused on my line preparing myself to be sprayed by the occasional semi that blew past on my left. My heart pounded with genuine fear of being hit or falling due to a slick spot. My feet danced on the pedals as if going faster would help me outrun an accident. When I pulled off the road into a Tim Horton’s parking log lot a break, the inevitable happened and my tires lost grip. I went over. Luckily my full fingered gloves prevented my hands from being scraped and my bike only suffered a minor ding on the down tube. A battle scar well earned.

After the break I headed back onto the road and a few minutes later pulled into the back roads surrounding York University. I glanced down at my computer which read 130 km. I giggled at the squish sound my shoes were making. I was soaked to the bone but totally elated.

I had done it!