Spinning wheels...

Never let the future disturb you.  You will meet it…

with the same weapons of reason which

today arm you against the present.

- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

I built a bicycle earlier this year.

It was one of those experiences that fellows my age don’t often do, particularly fellows who are NOT serious bicycle riders.  I am a ‘noodler,’ a self-confessed ‘poker arounder’ who enjoys checking out neighborhoods, watching walkers with or without their dogs, lizards caught unawares sunning their cold blooded little bodies on the warm pavement, AND the occasional coyote who just likes trotting along an asphalt bike path as an alternative to the hot and dry cactus ladened landscape!  I gear up with a water-pack, helmet, sunglasses, long-sleeved neon yellow shirt, tennis shoes – no  toe clips – and a trusty GPS tracker on my iPhone.  The pathways are not always the same, but generally cover a 15 to 20 mile trip.

We live in Oro Valley, Arizona sitting just on the northwest edges of Tucson – the second most bicycle friendly city in the United States, next to Portland, Oregon.  Before coming to Arizona, we lived in San Diego in a part of town with the occasional bicyclists pedaling around our neighborhood.  A little further up ‘The 5’ in North County, where the zip codes are a little more affluent, weekends find pelotons of riders on expensive bicycles in brightly multi-colored shirts with black, skin tight, thigh hugging, discretely buttock padded, riding shorts. 

“Peloton” – I like that word.  It is French meaning ‘little ball,’ or ‘platoon’ – appropriate for a pack of bikers, sometimes as many as 20 or more, making their way, at breakneck speeds, like a collection of circus performers along the roads and highways of some of the best landscape in the country!

From the shore to the desert…

But now I live in Oro Valley in a small community that lies along La Cañada Street.  For those of you who are the great unwashed, you will probably pronounce the street like the country from which I entered planet earth – La Canada.  You would, of course, be wrong!  Yes, its kind of fun to listen to ‘newbies’ to the city say they were driving on “La Canada.”  I, of course, know the ‘ña’ carries the sound. ‘…nyà…’  It is La Ca-nya-da! 

To be fair, I was also of the uninitiated when I first came here.  It was a while before some gentle soul let me know my bliss was ignorant!  Until that time, and for some time I might add, saying I lived just off La Canada brought smiles to the faces to people I chatted with.

During the week there is a continuous morning brigade of riders pedaling up the hill by our little ‘La Ca-nya-da’ neighborhood on their way to who knows where.  On weekends there are pelotons everywhere, bodies leaning forward, necks craned up and pushing as hard as they can.  I on the other hand am content simply to noodle.

The plot thickens…

This weekend, I am taking a graduate course in bicycle building.  I am building a wheel from scratch.  That’s right putting that thing together from the elements, consisting of:

·      A Spoke Wrench

·      36 hole rim

·      36 hole hub

·      36 spokes

·      36 spoke nipples

As I looked at the basic materials lying on the table in front of me, I could almost hear them whispering “…sure go ahead…let’s see what your frustration level really is!”  While I have refused to give in to those thoughts suggesting failure with a capital ‘F,’ those who know me appreciate I have the mechanical skills of a poet laureate.  I am certain they scratch their heads in wonder every time I say I have previously built a bicycle!  You know, something about hell freezing over…

Keep moving…

Life is about stretching, not settling for current circumstances, and looking forward for the next thing to learn.  This is important for many reasons, not the least of which is peace of mind and a sense of self-worth.  Marcus Cicero, the Roman orator and writer says many people feel that as folks age, they become:

“…morose, troubled, fretful, and hard to please; and, if we inquire shall find some of them are misers, too.  However, these are faults of character not of age.”

He suggests there are lots of older folk who love life and embrace change for its own sake.  He says, while aging cannot be avoided, one should fight the good fight to remain active mentally and physically as long as possible.

I love this, because he wrote his essay on Old Age in his 80s.  That is particularly inspirational for someone who finds themselves at the tender age of 67!  It is said, “If you want to know what’s up ahead, ask someone on the way back.”  For me, this old Roman writer is, through the written word, ‘on his way back.’  Little doubt I find his thoughts comforting.

His formula for not being “…morose, troubled, fretful, etc…” is early lifestyle preparation – you know, preventive strategies.  He says these life-robbing characteristics can be avoided, by good habit and education!  We might say lifetime learning. 

I am pretty sure, no matter how long I find myself on this planet, I won’t have to fear falling into the trap of discontent and unhappiness.  If it happens, it will not be the circumstance of aging…it will by habit and choice.

“This weekend, I am taking a graduate course in bicycle building.  I am building a wheel from scratch.”  In fact, I am building my future…

ted