Events: World Bicycle Day 2025
Fresh off the United States celebrating National Bike Month for May, we celebrate all things cycling for World Bicycle Day. When compiling ideas for a piece regarding the day, one thought kept returning. Well actually several thoughts kept coming back: all the bikes in our lives. So we asked one of our writers to stitch together an ode to the two-wheel contraption celebrated around the world today.
I’ve always wondered where it wound up. It was a chrome BMX bike. Even by today’s standards it would be lust worthy. It was made by Kent, a mass market bike company based in Parsippany, New Jersey. The frame probably weighed fifteen pounds. The chrome wheels were no light affair. What I really remember were the pads. They were checkered, and they were awesome. The pads encouraged me to jump higher, ride faster, and bomb steeper hills than I ever imagined. I crashed hard dozens of times; I rode it harder each time I picked myself up.
Over the years the bike slipped from my grasp. I didn’t think to thank it for all the adventures it took me on. Given our society’s throw away approach, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s still around, several feet down in some dump heap, an unceremonious end to a bike I treated like a buddy. Even today I snicker at the stunts I considered - I am purposely avoiding the claim that I pulled off the stunts - or the crashes I brushed off. It would be such closure to get that Kent back for one more lap around the yard.
My grandmother once had a collection of old bikes. I rode two, one of which I crashed heavily on. Considering the bike was debadged, I narrowed down the bike being a Schwinn Stingray step-through, based on the banana seat and sissy bar. The ape hanger bars I tried to spin on impulse while descending a paved hill were ingrained in my memory.
Having had enough of sliding along roadways, I migrated to a road bike of the time. It was another debadged bike and painted black. It had a double top tube and steerer tube shifters. The options of gears suddenly pushed the horizon farther back. I got to farther places faster.
And then I lost touch with the bicycle. Perhaps the lull can be attributed to suddenly realizing I was not immortal on the bike, that crashes could do serious damage. Worse, it could have been the realization that danger wasn’t confined to the rider, that motorists could cause harm, too. The horizon came rushing back to me. The sudden sense of confinement may have cast an unromantic light on bikes as a teen. Either way, the bike and I took a break.
As with all passions, the concept of bicycles continued to revisit me. I added a Jazz hybrid only to have it stolen. I bought a Specialized Vegas BMX to commute to work with. I sold it to a teen who wanted it more than I did. I bought a second-hand GT iDrive thinking I’d explore the mountain bike side of cycling until the trips to the repair shop wore me down. Perhaps the old Kent rider had returned, unrecognized. I started realizing I was on the right path with bikes again.
With the help of [future] Mrs. Bottom Bracket, I came back to road cycling. At first it was a Cannondale Synapse Sport with absolutely ridiculous race gearing on it. The feeling of flying had returned. I even managed to race it on some of the roads I pedaled as a kid. Then the true race years of Specialized Tarmacs, warrantied one after another rotated through the collection. A Specialized Transition heightened the feeling of being a rocket ship before it too was sent off to someone who loved it more.
These days the service course is dominated by Giant bikes. As if coming full circle, the first TCR was broken in a crash. My body, too, faced issues from the incident. Meanwhile the service course hook added a gravel bike before a new TCR took its place.
Back in the beginning, I proclaimed I would ride across the United States. Remember, as a kid bike pushed the horizon far beyond. I could never create a solution for carrying all that equipment or procure money. This was the third ding to my fallout with the bicycle. Even if I could locate the horizon, I couldn’t arrange my thoughts to get there. Now there is a bike in the service course capable of making that dream possible.
For World Bicycle Day, I took a moment to relive all the bikes that carried me to this moment, and I wonder what my young self would think. This meditative gave me the satisfaction to conclude the ten year old version of me would be pretty excited that I pushed the horizon back just to maintain that free spirit of riding a bike. Once younger me got over the sadness of having let go of all those bikes, I think we would go for a ride pointed toward endless possibilities.
