I’ve understood for a long time that I am what most people think of as crazy. Just yesterday, a man who claims to be a loving and dutiful friend told me I was “a troubled man” because I wouldn’t help him train his dog.
There goes another friend down the pipes.
I have learned to live with me, and I was blessed to find a partner who likes crazy and finds it creative, even sexy. Imagine that.
When I bought a farm and moved upstate as I neared 60, it was the first time in my life that I had ever set foot on a farm.
A workaholic border collie saved the day, and my life changed forever.
Bicycles and heart disease have changed my life once more.
Last summer, I bought an expensive and fancy e-bike, now all the rage among Boomers and Yuppies seeking exercise with benefits during the pandemic.
I promptly fell off the bike and was nearly crushed by a passing truck and was terrified by its weight, complexity, and the fact it brought up so many old issues about me, my father, and my anxiety about exercise that I went back into therapy for the first time in a decade.
I thought I was becoming sane.
People suggest I’m crazy in the hope of insulting me. They should only know.
The therapist was happy to take me on; she was at ease with the idea I had a lot more work to do. She never said, “no, you don’t need my help.”
It took me nearly eleven months to work this issue out. I might almost be there. In my childhood, the school gym was pure and simple Hell.
There is some urgency to the bike. I have heart disease and underwent two catheter surgeries this year. I need to exercise. I want to exercise.
I have even learned to like exercising, and I give the young studs at my neighborhood gym someone to feel superior to almost every day.
Last week, I brought my big and expensive ebike back to the Trek Bicycle store in Saratoga Springs, a very nice, very competent place run by sincere people. It wintered in our living room.
There, I met Caleb, a young, thin, studly biking advocate. He took an interest in me or perhaps took pity on me.
He gave me a great price for my e-bike return (it had only been ridden two or three times) and said he understood completely that it was not the right bike for me. It happens, he said.
I told him I was giving up biking reluctantly – I biked often and happily when I was younger, and I would like to ride on the flat roads that adjoin the hills and mountains around here.
In a very gentle but sensitive way – something I wasn’t really expecting at a bicycle store – Caleb saw right through me and suggested that just because the e-bike wasn’t right didn’t mean that no bike was right.
He said he had an inexpensive, light, and easy-to-ride bike with eight gears on sale for a fraction of the e-bike cost and with no digital buttons or speeds to confuse or distract me.
It was much like the bikes I used to ride a generation or two ago. I just know I can get on them and get them moving.
I went to meet with him again this morning, and he pulled out this light red bike – I could pick it up with two fingers on both hands, and he showed me how to get my right foot more easily on the bike due to the lower frame and get the bike started – the (terrifying to me) problem I had with the e-bike.
Caleb said he would put on wider pedals, lower the seat and get a softer one (he saw me wince on the original), and return the accessories I had bought for the first bike – mirror, helmet, etc. — for little or no cost.
I have to say I like Caleb a lot and trusted him completely. He’s special.
He wasn’t just selling me a bike. He was selling the idea that even at my age, I could ride a bike safely and easily with my health issues. He was selling me an idea I care deeply about – do not quit.
I noticed that Caleb has the perfect body for a biker, I realize, and I don’t. Easy for him to talk.
But I do know he would not encourage me to do something I couldn’t do or shouldn’t do.
He asked if I wanted to ride the bike today, but it was raining, and I had some medical tests I had to get to, so I gave him a deposit for more than half the bike price and made an appointment to see him next week.
He was convincing, honest, and intuitive. He also knew what he was talking about. I also knew that he was right.
Somehow, he understood the dynamic that had been screwing me up. I love the idea of going to the gym and also riding my bike up to see my friend Moise or around a nearby lake.
It would help my heart and my soul to do that.
I love the idea that I am not too old to do it, and I love the idea of bringing simplicity into what had become a complex and emotional drama for me.
My Amish neighbors are getting to me. Simple is so much often better, from computer printers to bicycles to life.
I’m ok with being crazy; it fits me.
The best thing about being crazy, as opposed to having cancer, is that I get to recover every single day. On Monday, my therapist returns from vacation; she is never surprised to learn the mischief I can get up to while she’s gone.
Maria thinks it’s an excellent idea.
I love the idea of listening to the perspective of a young man with a good and honest heart – those are rare sometimes these days – and I love the idea of changing healthily and positively at any point in life.
I have a chunk of Buddha in me; I live in the now, one day at a time. I embrace change. I will keep alive in the spiritual sense even when I can’t bring my body alone.
But I’m just not ready to give up on it. Thanks, Caleb; you are a good man; thanks for not giving up on me.
“You crazy fuck,” said Maria warmly when I told her I was getting another bike, giving me a big hug. Awwwww.
I wish you a blessed life, Caleb, and I can’t wait to post some photos of me on the blog careening down along the Green Mountains on my plain and simple Trek.
Hi Jon,
I so like reading your blog and I too bought a ‘new’ bike recently. Last week an angel on my shoulder prevented me from being in a serious accident: the back brake of my bike came loose and I came to a full stop in a second. Luckily for me it was on the sidewalk and not in the middle of the busy road I was preparing to cross…
I am a Dutch immigrant in Canada and my trusted Dutch Batavus bike (as comfortable as a good sofa) has gone with me as I traveled the world – 3 continents, 5 countries… The brand is not for sale here or anywhere else in the world, I think. It is purely Dutch. I love it. Have had it for a long, long time, probably over 20 years or so.
Here in the town where I live in Ontaria I was fortunate to find a bikestore that knows their way around Dutch bikes. During Covid he has less and less time but he was kind enough to take in my bike and repair it. My husband brought it back home just this afternoon and I am so happy!
First of all, no born and bred Dutch girl can do without Dutch bike. Despite the fact that Canada is not exactly made for bikes, we do have some nice trails and the roads in suburbia where I live are wide enough to accommodate a nice biketrip criss crossing through the neigbouring parks.
Last week we finally had some warm weather and when the bike brake broke, I was upset: I am 60 and have been blessed with aching joints and a history of falls. Recognise something here? I have developed a serious fear of falling, not so much because of the act of falling, but it never left me unscathed. There was always an ensuing injury that stayed with me in the rest of my life. I have trouble doing long walks, I wiggle like a duck and I am in constant pain. But biking I can do without pain and it is so lovely that I can still exercise in the open air.
After dropping off the bike at the repair man (Rock and Road in Burlington, Ontario), I was desperate. First, I decided to just buy a new bike, even though I already knew it would never be as comfortable as mine. Then I found out there are very few bikes for sale right now. Amazon had some, the prices were pretty steep, but I still thought that it might be worth it. But then I took a closer look and decided against it. What now? Was the Universe telling me to be patient and take it easy for a week or so?
And then I suddenly thought of the second hand circuit. And guess what… my angel must have been with me because it found me an older model of my bike, same brand, similar model, at only half an hour’s drive from where I live! Quite the find, considering how rare Dutch bikes of this type are and how big Ontario is. I actually found a second one but it was in one of the maritime provinces so I was never going to be able to get that here. Plus, I would want to inspect it.
So now, today, my husband picked up the repaired bike after a week with lots of biking on the replacement bike and now I have two wonderful Dutch bikes in my garage!! Which means that friends that want to can come over and we can meet, masks on, outside, while biking.
I love your stories about your adventures with biking and I think you are very courageous to have your eye on another one. I once lived in the Philadelphia area and biking there was truly risky. So I hope you will find good trails and stay safe, while enjoying your new bike!
Keep writing – I am hooked to this blog and to your honesty!
Greetz from Canada!
Nicky
That bike is all wrong for you. You will end up returning it after you fall off again. You need a 3 wheel bike for senior citizens. Schwinn makes a nice 3 wheel bike for seniors with a nice big basket on the back, so you can put your Amish goods in there. Makes far more sense than that bike he’s trying to sell you. It’s not right for someone your age.
Windy, I see where you got your name. I don’t recall asking you for your approval or opinion on what bike I buy, nor am I interested in it. If I return the bike, so be it. I’ll learn from it, not from rude messages from strangers online. I know many people much older than me who ride bikes all the time. Sticking your nose in other people’s business is not right for anyone at any age. It’s a creepy message, please go away.
Hi Jon,
Thank you so much once again for your eloquent words. Like you, I loved biking as a child and used my bike to get everywhere. A couple of years ago I bought my bike from the same store you went to, as I live in Saratoga. Caleb was recommended to me, he is well-known in our community for being just as you describe him. I did not see him that day, but luckily the store is filled with good and knowledgeable people. I’m rediscovering biking as you have been, so I’ve really enjoyed reading about your journey as I’m taking a similar one. I did NOT like my bike when I first got it. Now, I love it and take it often to the Battlefield to, well, battle those hills. It’s good for me. Running has always been my thing, but it did a number on me and I suffer for it. I’m glad I did not give up on the bike, because I need that release and yes, the exercise. And I’m so happy you did not give up on it, either. I’m excited to see what’s next on your journey.
I think that it is a great choice and may inspire me to follow your lead. I have had a 30 year old Schwinn that hung on the wall of my garage since 2004. It is one of those high frame impossible to start or stop without risking falling over. Something inspired me to take it down last wall, clean it up, lubricate the gears, etc. And started to ride it. Fell over into some soft grass. I miss my bike riding and I am concerned about my balance (67)….But a good rugged dirt bike like this looks promising. Thanks for the inspiration.
Jon…
Simple might be better. It depends on what simple means. And deciding that is not so simple. Hiding complexities in design can lead to an improved user experience, such as with hybrid automobiles. On the other hand, totally electric vehicles are simpler in design with removal of the internal combustion engine. And, think about the delivery of electric power from an existing grid, compared with the infrastructure created to discover, refine, and distribute petroleum products. Of course, the Amish have no need for either.
With design, sometimes simpler really meant “better organized.” In software development, “spaghetti code” referred to programs that worked, but didn’t follow any structured programming approaches. The results were convoluted and unmaintainable programs, often understood only by the coders themselves.
i am 87 years old and ride my folding bike about 2000miles a year. i have a Dahon folding bike as it fits inside my small class b RV. this is my favorit exercise. my fountain of youth. the step thru bike should work fine. hope you have many happy rides! george
What a great message George, I hope to make it to 87 and I will remember your message all along the way..
I love you Jon Katz and Maria Wulf too and all your stories and farm animals. You would all make great next door neighbors.
Thanks Gretchen…
Take it from a 70 year old who has biked across 29 USA states and a cross-country ride that you’ll love your new bike.
Just stay off of that busy highway in front of your farm. Happy Cycling!
PS tricycles are old folks and toddlers.
thank you, Jim, my feelings precisely…I appreciate the message..
Hi Jon…it’s Julie in Iowa. Loved your blog and glad your staying active. Hi to Maria! Hugs, Julie & roger in Iowa.
Hi Jon,
Congratulations on your new bike! I have an older Trek and I enjoy it! Currently it is on a Trainor that converts it to a stationary bike. Our gravel, mud roads are not kind this time of year and I have some balance issues due to a bum hip, so the stationary version works well for me right now. Once the dryer weather comes and the roads dry out it will be good to ride in the fresh air.
Have fun on your new bike, new experiences keep us young!
Josie