Riding A Bike Is The Cycle Of Life

My life has been filled with great loves, some enduring, most fleeting, but few can compete with the relationship I have with cycling.

Most Japanese kids can cycle before they reach school, but I was one of the few in Australia who did that.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I grew up in a cyclist’s paradise, filled with hills and winding roads and delightful scenery.

There were a few people who were really keen on riding–the Kaye brothers and Dean Fay are the ones who come to mind–but for the most part, road cycling wasn’t that prominent a sport.

This is despite Australia punching above its weight in cycling, with people like Sir Hubert Opperman and Russell Mockridge, then Phil Anderson and Allan Peiper through to Robbie McEwan, Cadel Evans, Jai Hindley, and a host of other stars since.

But, I digress. I loved my chilhood Malvern Star, but gave it up as other things became more important, and would only rarely get back on a bike until arriving in Japan. It didn’t take long to learn that cycling was the easiest way to get around Tokyo, as well as being the best way to see the city and having the benefit of being healthy. I loved it. But I stopped doing it, too. For decades.

When I finally got back into cycling, I did so on a bike that cost less than 10,000 yen, and which promised to pay for itself in unspent public transport costs multiple times over.

Since then, I have strived to ride almost daily…and been generally successful at that attempt, too. I’ve cycled the length and breadth of Japan, and ridden in Europe, the Middle East and, of course, Australia, including the pushie’s paradise I largely neglected as a kid.

Now, I wake most mornings and jump on my bike to get into a groove. Arthritis and osteomyelitis have ravaged my hands, making riding hard but comfort eating a delight, creating something of a vicious, well, cycle. But I hope I can keep the wheels turning for just a bit longer yet.