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Five Boro 2009 riders brave the rain
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The Five Boro Bike Tour kicked off without a hitch yesterday, unless you count the chilling drench of rain that soaked all 30,000 cyclists young and old throughout the 42-mile duration of the ride.
When asked at the Staten Island endpoint how the ride was, there were a few “Grrr”s, a few more “Brrr!”s—but the vast majority eagerly exclaimed that the ride was excellent; “only the weather was lousy.”
I applaud every biker on the tour who gave it their best shot with a lusty standing ovation, especially those who finished the whole route shivering and stunned. I met a man from Connecticut who rode it with his three kids. His two boys were under thirteen; his daughter was no more than nine. He explained that while the boys had ridden it a few times before, it was her first time. Not once did I hear a word of whining or complaint as I escorted them to the bike area on the lower level of the terminal. “You're a champ,” I told the girl on her small pink bike.
Events such as the Five Boro, and especially under Sunday's dismal conditions, serve as a reminder to the industriousness of the human spirit. As disheartening as it was in the small hours of the morning to see SUVs pulling up with bicycles strapped to the back and roof, instead of actually riding them to the starting point, yesterday proved once again to thousands of car-bound individuals the universal joy of cycling. More than that, I hope it proved, ultimately, the possibilities.
Yes, the streets were closed off; yes, the bridges were shut to automotive traffic. And how pleasant that was: to experience a world without the threat or annoyance of cars. How refreshing to suddenly feel a part of a community, to be able to strike up a conversation with someone from a different walk of life, city, state, or country, to bond through the pain and share in the euphoria of accomplishment. How empowering to the individual, to know in his or her heart that you are, indeed, capable of riding 42 miles on a self-powered vehicle—especially in inclement weather. And how many people would have loved to be a part of it had the numbers not been capped at 30,000 and filled by February.
This is a glimpse of a sustainable street at its purest and finest. Not filled with lawless renegades on two wheels, not getting run over by vehicles faster or larger, but human beings with a bottomless reserve of inner strength and perseverence. Not elite speed demons who train on thousand-dollar bikes or Tour de Lancers who get their kicks from competitions, but ordinary people with heart and chutzpah.
With any hope, perhaps the participants, if they do not already, will take this as a wake-up call as to the universal benefits of cycling and their contributions to a greater society, both local and worldwide.
A generous thank you to all who made this weekend possible: the marshals, the mechanics, the law enforcement, the organizers, the first-timers, the many-timers, the old-timers, the road warriors, the Canadians. Keep up the good work.
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