Most mornings I straddle my sturdy black city bike and pedal to work. I wear a fifteen-year-old helmet and a reflective strap around my right pant leg. Sometimes I bike in my dress shoes. Riding a bike always makes me feel like a kid, particularly when I’m sitting upright and gripping wide handlebars with a backpack on. Waiting for a break in the traffic on Cedar Avenue, with all those freshly washed cars driven women in pantsuits and men in pressed shirts and slacks rushing past, I feel decidedly goofy and, well, unadult.
So be it. Emily and I are committed to being a one-car family for the sake of the environment and simplicity and space, and because this is one way we’ve chosen to live out our faith. If you believe in a divinity manifest in and through creation, you might as well use that created body to transport yourself across the created planet without further destroying said planet. Continue reading