Shade Rushmore

I suppose that the proper thing to do when writing the first story for a new column is to introduce oneself and briefly explain what the heck is going on. My name is Shade Rushmore and I will be the purveyor of anecdotal and informative stories that are sure to entertain even the boorish of readers. My hope is that you relate to my column, perhaps learn something new, and mostly--get a chuckle or even a laugh at my expense. I always welcome feedback and will make my e-mail address available at the bottom of each column. Read on and enjoy!

Trees Have Leaves...

My reasons for taking the old rusted mountain bike to the bike shop for a tune-up were varied. I really wanted to loose some winter weight that I accumulated from eating Mexican food twice a day, and I felt like I was missing the closeness with Mother Nature that I had in the years before my sixteenth birthday when the only way to travel was by skateboard, bike, or foot. So, I decided that pedaling nine miles to work was the solution for both. Certainly the increasing gas prices had NOTHING to do with it. Note the sarcasm. I drive a pickup truck that gets 17 miles a gallon on a good day. It costs me nearly $40 a week to drive this machine.

Boy, have I learned a lot in the past four weeks. The roadways in Austin are arranged in a manner that the city is straddled by two major highways on either side. They are the quickest paths to any one place since they are sans annoying stoplights. As you may already guess, bikes are not allowed on those arteries, nor should they be. The way people “drive” to and from work is frightening. Do people really “drive” in bumper-to-bumper traffic? No, they read the paper, talk on the phone, power up laptops and apply makeup. Which is why I don’t mind taking my meandering path from Northwest Austin to Downtown.

My first day to ride was exciting. Boring corporate training classes tell me that in this stage I am an “enthusiastic beginner.” Enthusiastic I was for the first mile and a half. My house is on a very steep hill, so the first mile is a no-pedaling, 25 mph experience. I was so charged that I felt like I could ride from Texas to L.A. and back that morning. A mere two minutes later my legs were screaming murder and I very quickly moved into stage two of my corporate training, “disillusioned learner.” Now, I am not some fat out of shape pork-bellied desk jockey. Before the bike, I was running an average of 20 miles a week and maintaining a healthy diet. What is amazing is that that running and cycling use a mixed set of different muscles. I was asking for peak performance out of a muscle group that hadn’t been touched since bunny hopping freestyle on my old Mongoose with the axle pegs 10 years ago.

My body adapted quickly, and as it adjusted to the new physical demands, I was figuring out which path was the most efficient to lead me to my office door. What I discovered was astounding--old neighborhoods that I had never once passed through, small retail shops packed full of antiques and usable junk. I also noticed several unique coffee shops that offer dainty pastries along with cozy accommodations and a friendly smile.

Only part of my trek is through uncharted territory. The last third is through the University of Texas and the State Capitol grounds. I remember reading something once that has really ricocheted around in my head since I began riding the bike. The point was that you should walk through a neighborhood to really see what it has to offer. You don’t notice detail and intricacies when you zip by in an automobile at 40 mile per hour. This is true. I estimate that my ride is at about seven miles per hour on average, hardly a break-neck speed.

There are characters that I see everyday. For example, the old man who seems partly paralyzed by a stroke that walks his dog each morning. Some mornings he stops to pick dead leaves off of a plant growing in a neighbors yard. Other times he manages a grunt when I wish him a good morning. That black 1978 Lincoln in excellent condition that is always perched on the same corner when I pass by. Where is it today, did it get towed, did someone actually start that old beast? Where could it be? I noticed that an old yellow house on the corner of a small intersection had its “For Sale” sign removed overnight. That must be the couple that purchased it. Look at how they are smiling and holding each other’s hand as they move through the yard. I am smiling too. Because for the first time in many years I notice something that my friend pointed out when he got new prescription glasses. Trees have leaves.

I never thought I would be the guy riding his bike to work in the rustic bike lanes of Central Austin. But I am. Some days when it rains hard or when I wake up late I will start up the truck and drive it in. But it isn’t the same. I sit in a queue with 120,000 other commuters listening to three animated announcers debate a new law on an AM station. I see cars on either side of me; exhaust fumes dancing off the trunks of cars. I see people who won’t let others in their lane for fear that they might loose half a second of their day. This doesn’t happen on a bike. The ride in to work energizes me not just physically, but mentally as well. The fresh air, and just being off the beaten path, do a lot for ones mental well being. I generally come to work jazzed up and quite refreshed. Not to mention fully awake.