Editor Note: This is our twelfth winning entry in our March- May My Ride Writing Contest, a multi-week winner Minor Baker. We only have one more chance to win. We want an autobiographical story about your experience riding a bike in Austin where previously you might have done so by car. Each week, Austin on Two Wheels will select a winning entry with a $50 cash prize (and bonus for established bloggers who re-post a teaser of their story on their blog.) In June, we’ll select a grand prize winner who will receive a contract to write 5 more stories for our site. Submit your story.

Doing It for the Kids….and my Sanity

by Minor Baker of The Bakers in Texas blog, On Twitter @sugabakes

I want to start off and admit it has been a few weeks since I have commuted to work on the ‘ol Surly (continuing to take suggestions for a better name), I am still running errands around the neighborhood, but the 10+ mile commute, and more importantly the early rising, won out for the last couple of weeks.  “Bike to Work Week” has kicked me in the butt and reminded me to get out there and burn burritos and not gas, because I am cheap, and also have an unhealthy relationship with Tex-Mex food.

I jumped back in on Friday morning, and within the first mile I remembered why I needed to ride to work.  Actually, two powerful reminders occurred the previous day.  The first punch in face from the proverbial bike gods was the $57.25 of highly processed petroleum I pumped into my sensible (translation=fuel efficient) Honda Accord.  The angel and devil on each shoulder did not agree how that money should be spent, but they did agree continuing to drive when I had the trusty Surly parked in the stable at home was ludicrous.

The other slightly gentler reminder came earlier in the day, when I was able to get a repaired bike back to a student who couldn’t afford to replace the seat that had been stolen over a month ago.  I do want to give a give a big shout out to Marshall at the Bicycle Sports Shop on Parmer for finding a way to help me get the student back on a functioning bike without breaking the bank.  The kindness from a complete stranger wasn’t what pushed me back into the saddle on Friday morning; rather it was the look of pure joy when I brought the repaired bike back to the student.  He was running down the apartment steps before I even had the car parked.  “Thank you, thank you, Mr. Baker.  With permission from mom, he was gone in a flash, circling the large apartment complex like it was his own personal criterium.  I don’t know how many laps he completed that night, but I expect he was still looping around the apartment parking lot well past dark.

It was those two events that got me out of bed on Friday morning.  As I rolled out of the garage into the perfectly cool morning air, I remembered the most important reason for riding to work. My brain just works better and I am a happier person.  Something about riding helps clear that clutter of day–to–day life, and I am able to see old problems in a new light.  The air was just cool enough to sharpen all of the senses, so as my light punched through the dark, wooded neighborhood, I picked up a fellow commuter in the corner of my vision.  He was headed home after a long night of pest removal, but for 30 seconds we flew through the neighborhood together, in silent formation.  He disappeared as quickly as he appeared, turning south towards the Congress Avenue bridge and home.  I continued east towards the sunrise and school.  The population of Austin has exploded in the past 20 years, but on a bike you realize there are still quiet rural areas perfect for watching the sun come up.  I stopped to snap a few photos before finishing the last couple of miles.

As I coasted down the driveway and into the backdoor of the school kitchen, I was greeted by the by the early risers already preparing breakfast and lunch for the day.

“Good morning for a ride.”, they said.

I nodded and responded “Most of them are!”

The student with the newly repaired bike came and saw me on Friday morning, wanting to know if he could stop riding the bus now that his bike was fixed.  I explained that it was not up to me, but we could see what his parents said.  He also noticed my bike parked in the back of the room, “One day next week, can you ride your bike home with me?”  Mom agreed as long as he completed his work for the week, bringing out an even bigger smile than the day before and gave me one more reason to ride to work.