Jack: Walk/bike for peace and pleasure

One of bicycling’s least appreciated pleasurable aspects is walking. I mean, you go on a tour and you think you’re gonna pedal, pedal, pedal without a break? Give me a break.

Some examples: You’re carrying a big load and up comes a monster hill. Why pedal in a 19-inch gear and go no faster than you would on foot? Stop, smell the flowers for a minute, then walk to the top. Or you have a mechanical breakdown that makes your mount unrideable, so you end up walking it to the nearest settlement. No disgrace in this; the stroll may even buoy your spirit. (I’ve seen bikers laid low by a mere flat – that is, those bikers crazy enough to hit the open road without carrying a patch/toolkit. So be warned.) Or you just need to stretch a different muscle group – and you realize that biking isn’t supposed to be torture. So relax!

I think it’s fair, maybe even necessary, to rate bicycles on a, shall we say, pushability index. I give my old Miyata 618 tourer high marks here. I can lightly grip the bike by the stem with one hand and roll it along with almost no effort. And this holds true even when the Miyata is loaded to the gills with camping gear, clothing, tools, etc. Pushing the Big M certainly imposes less discomfort than humping the same load in a backpack.

But why am I bothering with this topic. Just a lead-in to a travelogue: my three days accompanying the peace march to Fort Drum, which meant that I pushed my bike (the storied Miyata) as much as I rode it.

Maybe you’ve seen something in the news about the march. (Check out nysmarchesforpeace.org for updates, with special attention to an upcoming rally.) Marchers will soon be converging north of Syracuse for the last push toward the base, which reportedly sends more troops to Iraq and Afghanistan than any other US military installation. I can’t vouch for the latter factoid, but I do know the base has grown wildly in recent years. No longer is it the miserable little hellhole it was in the early 70s when I had the bad luck to be sent there once in a while for “training” - no, today it’s a miserable enormous shithole and insult to humanity. But, hey, it brought jobs!

I digress. The point I’m trying to make is that it’s as simple as it is morally appropriate to bring a bike along on a peace march, and as simple as it is obvious that walking your bike is a natural form of locomotion. The vehicle itself is a symbolic presence – a human-scale machine that contradicts the brute logic of the highway (think SUVs, lots of them, as I found to my displeasure on Route 104) and the military (think Humvee/Hummer). And a bike’s inherent modesty, even with all the bells and whistles and panache of current models, allows you to function as a human being among pedestrians.

Which is exactly where you and I - not to mention the folks in uniform - belong.