Ditching the 'motor', keeping the 'cycle'

As far back as I remember I've loved being on a bike. Growing up in a small town with a population of 8,000, everything I needed to do was within biking distance. Whether it was riding to school, a friend's house, a trip to the pool, a ride out to the lake, I never had to pedal for more than an hour to do anything I wanted. As a kid, bicycles were freedom and independence. 

When I moved to Toronto at age 18 I was quick to ditch my car. I wound up living close to a subway, and eventually I picked up a 21" steel-framed CCM hardtail I used purely for a fit way to get to work. I enjoyed my ride-commute along the Lakeshore multi-use trail, but by then cycling had lost it's luster to me. Transit was faster and much more convenient, and cycling, purely for the purposes of transport, was a grind. (Back then I had no appreciation for what a nicer bike with lighter components would have done for me). I can't even remember the fate of that bike -- it's possible I just left it in the underground storage locker when I moved out to the suburbs. 

My 2004 Honda Shadow 750 Aero

In my late 20s I got my motorcycle license. Being on a motorcycle re-introduced me to my love for freedom of movement, and going for a ride for the sake of the ride itself. I had a few friends with whom I shared this passion, but chief among them was my step-father. We shared many rides together, went to motorcycle shows together, and shared magazines back and forth. On my own I spent an inordinate amount of time on motorcycling forums, on manufacturer's websites, and looking for squiggly lines on Google Maps. Though I never owned a bike other than my Honda Shadow, I fantasized about a stable of bikes that I could use for various types of riding, and about long adventurous road trips I could take.  

In the wrong group

It was a hot May long weekend and I was out riding with my step-father around Hockley Valley, north of the GTA. It was the first ride I'd done that year. I was reflecting on the fact that , while I'd been riding for a few years by this point, my lifestyle had evolved to a place where it wasn't fitting in as well as it used to. I had young kids at home and an hour long commute along the 401 highway each way. I started realizing that I'd only be riding my motorbike a few times this coming season. This made it possible to take the year's insurance total and compute an actual cost-per-ride figure; a result I was ashamed of. 

We pulled into the Hockley General Store for lunch and a break. I was an 'all-the-gear-all-the-time' kind of guy and this weather was not the day to be fully covered. My mesh jacket breathed well byt my pants and helmet kept me hot. We grabbed a table and peeled off a few layers of gear. It was then that I noticed the patrons of this establishment were basically of two varieties: 

• Motorcyclists: Like me, tired and overheated in their black mesh or leather gear. Generally surly about the heat. Mostly older, and not exactly pillars of health.

• Cyclists: Cheerful in their vibrant, weather-appropriate gear, healthy, all ages. Regaling with one-another about the climbs and sweeping descents. 

Now I realize that I've just taken some broad strokes here, particularly at motorcyclists. Motorcyclists are certainly not old, fat, angry people -- far from it! My memory is no doubt exaggerating what I witnessed, but what remains true is that at that very moment, I felt like I was in the wrong crowd. I had serious bicycle envy. I thought to myself "I used to like cycling. What happened? When did that change?"

I ruminated on this for the duration of the ride until I finally rolled up into my driveway and turned the engine off. 

"How was your ride?" my wife Kim asked - she was in the front-yard when I pulled in. I switched off my motorcycle and took off my helmet. 

"I'm selling this thing." I said, plainly. 

Her expression changed. "Are you okay? Did you have an accident?" she asked. 

I told her about the conclusions I came to about how little I've been riding, and about the cyclists I saw. "I want to sell this thing, and I want to put that money toward a bicycle -- a nice bicycle." I said. "I think I would get most of the same type of enjoyment out of a bicycle, and even if I only used it a couple times a year, I wouldn't be paying to own it."

New Bike Day

My first 'nice bike' - a 2011 Giant Roam 2

I sold my motorcycle for $3,500. I set that figure as my budget for a new bicycle, but quickly realized I didn't know enough about what I wanted, and what to look for that I didn't want to drop that much just yet. 

I settled on a Giant Roam; a dual-sport hybrid that looked like it could do a bit of everything. Commuting, off-road, on-road - and all wrapped into a package that was just north of $500. 

The Roam was everything I needed it to be. I commuted on it while I lived in Brampton close to work.
When I moved to Guelph it was relegate to purely weeknight / weekend pleasure rides around the Speed & Eramosa rivers. By the time I moved to London I was exploring the local paved pathway as much as I was pushing it off-road through Fanshawe Conservation Area and Boler Mountain. I even competed in a few multi-sport adventure races with it. (Those Haliburton Highland trails certainly had me under-biked). 

It was a week before one such adventure race when I opened the door to my garage to find the bike had been stolen. And as crushing as that was at the time it happened, I accepted that the Roam had done what it needed to do. I was already pushing it far past it's off-road capabilities, and also wanted something faster for commuting and road riding. The Roam introduced me to a wide spectrum of cycling that, on it's own, would never have been able to satisfy. 

For the love of 'roarange'

New Horizons

I replaced the bike immediately with a hardtail mountain bike and I continue to loop around cross-country trails and dabble in some downhill riding. I also eventually added an endurance road bike to my garage as well, which I use for daily commuting through the week, and taking longer rides in the country on the weekend. 

Conclusion

I have fond memories of the rides I took, and the people I shared the road with, my stepfather particular among them. Will I ever get back on a motorcycle? So far the itch to twist a throttle has not returned. If it did, I might first explore e-bikes before returning to the world of pistons and pipes. But as long as these legs have spins left in them, I'd rather get around in a way that is cost-effective, environmentally sustainable, and good for my personal health.