Part of one of the gifts I got for Christmas was a copy of Boneshaker: A Bicycling Almanac. It was a joy to read.

It begins with the following, from the editors:
“Bicycling, not bicycles, because it’s an action and a purpose and a way to move and move and move.”

It goes on to be filled with lots of little short pieces. Interviews, poetry, book reviews, an advice column, thoughts one commuting by bike down south, and some excerpts from touring cyclists.

It’s a little book, it fits in your pocket so you can take it anyway. It’s rugged. It’s printed in elegant type. Highly enjoyable.

It’s Bike To Work Day / My political statement / Is to wear a tie

Perry Woodin’s “Jungle Coaster” followed by the classic feature — “Red Light Go”
Upstate Artists Guild Gallery, 247 Lark St. (across from Ben & Jerry’s at Jay St.)
Doors open – 6:30
Showtime – 7:00 (Some announcements stated a 7:30 show time. We will have a special “critical mass” video as a warm up while we wait for latecomers.)
Contribution please ($5 suggested) to offset UAG’s costs.

It’s Bike to Work Week
Go ahead, use the full lane
‘Cause you deserve it

It’s Bike to Work Week
So tell everyone you know
And then ride your bike

cruising down park ave
the birds are singing away
cars are missing this

wait, isn’t it spring?
why are my fingers freezing?
bike on.

Sunny, thirty four.
Clear streets, and traffic seemed light.
I pedal my bliss.

Ricky Redbeard was a renegade,
A pirate without ship or crew.
He plundered atop a bicycle,
One not even built for two.

His eyepatch stretched over his helmet,
His sword was strapped down to the rack.
He carried the loot that he plundered
In a messenger bag on his back.

When raising his bold Jolly Roger,
Ricky’s hands would come off of the bars.
His flag he’d fly just for a moment
To avoid slamming into parked cars.

He scoured the bike paths and sidewalks
For chests full of golden doubloons.
And when he approached little children
With his sword he would pop their balloons.

One day as he sailed on the asphalt,
Ricky Redbeard was met by a foe.
A pirate so mean and so nasty
‘Twas as if he’d been reared Down Below.

Ricky, he drew forth his cutlass
And matched this new foe blade for blade.
They slashed and they hacked at their chainsets
And oh! what a racket they made.

They were evenly matched in the battle,
Though each wobbled a bit on his bike.
Then the foeman won out over Ricky
Without e’en one slash or one strike.

Ricky Redbeard, he plunders no longer,
But suffers the Eternal Fire.
Sent headlong to Davy Jones’ bike rack
By the worst foe of all — a flat tire!

Ricky Redbeard was a renegade,
A pirate without ship or crew.
He plundered atop a bicycle,
One not even built for two.

His eyepatch stretched over his helmet,
His sword was strapped down to the rack.
He carried the loot that he plundered
In a messenger bag on his back.

When raising his bold Jolly Roger,
Ricky’s hands would come off of the bars.
His flag he’d fly just for a moment
To avoid slamming into parked cars.

He scoured the bike paths and sidewalks
For chests full of golden doubloons.
And when he approached little children
With his sword he would pop their balloons.

One day as he sailed on the asphalt,
Ricky Redbeard was met by a foe.
A pirate so mean and so nasty
‘Twas as if he’d been reared Down Below.

Ricky, he drew forth his cutlass
And matched this new foe blade for blade.
They slashed and they hacked at their chainsets
And oh! what a racket they made.

They were evenly matched in the battle,
Though each wobbled a bit on his bike.
Then the foeman won out over Ricky
Without e’en one slash or one strike.

Ricky Redbeard, he plunders no longer,
But suffers the Eternal Fire.
Sent headlong to Davy Jones’ bike rack
By the worst foe of all — a flat tire!