Elly Blue - Cycletherapy: Grief and Healing on Two Wheels

Cycletherapy

Grief and Healing

on Two Wheels

Elly Blue & Anika Ledlow

Journal of Bicycle Feminism

Volume 1: Grief and Healing

For Mark, who left us too soon. You are sorely missed and will live on in the countless lives youve touched. Thank you for everything.

Cycletherapy: Grief and Healing on Two Wheels

Edited by Elly Blue & Anika Ledlow

All work remains property of its creators 2016

This edition Elly Blue Publishing, an imprint of Microcosm Publishing, 2016

First printing.

Made in the USA

Microcosm Publishing

2752 N Williams Ave.

Portland, OR 97227

TakingTheLane.com

MicrocosmPublishing.com

Find more feminist bicycle books, zines, and art at MicrocosmPublisishing.com

The Journal of Bicycle Feminism is supported by amazing readers and select advertisers. To learn more, contact ads@takingthelane.com

Cover art by Kenton Hoppas, who creates life-inspired illustration, motion graphics, and video, found at kentonhoppas.com

Get in touch with your submissions for the next book in the Journal of Bicycle Feminism series: Money and Class. Please send submissions and inquiries to elly@microcosmpublishing.com

Table of Contents

Introduction...........................................................7

Making Peace with the Wind................................9

Barb Grover

Yes, Women Ride..................................................13

Anna Brones

Pedaling Uphill.....................................................21

Elly Blue

Magazine..............................................................29

Sara Tretter

My Body, My City.................................................35

Katherine Hodges

Bicycle Epiphanies..............................................41

Karen Canady

Stroke..................................................................45

Joe Biel

Five Spokes of Grief...........................................49

Julie Brooks

Ariel........................................................ ...............55

Gretchin Lair

The Other Deepest Thing....................................57

Erin Fox

Riding the White Line..........................................65

Connie Oehring

A Different Road: An Interview with Delicia Jernigan ..79

Anika Ledlow

Fiction: The Crash................................................87

Lauren Hage

The Xtracycle Diaries..........................................101

Jamie Passaro

Why We Ride........................................................111

Amy Subach

Reviews: Women & Cycling Zines......................117

Julie Brooks

Parting Shot: Definition......................................127

Lindsay Kandra

Introduction

Welcome to the first book in the Journal of Bicycle Feminism series. Expect a new book in the series every year or so.

Anika Ledlow, then an intern and now a colleague, came up with the topic a year ago. It was going to be a stand-alone zine, but submissions poured in.

By the time it became clear that the zine needed to evolve into something more substantial and less frequent, Anika had already compiled and edited an impressive collection of submissions reflecting a wide spectrum of feeling and events. I had collected other material that I wanted to publish about entirely different subjects, like carrying kids on a cargo bike or joining a womens cycling group in France.

I went back and forth deciding whether to keep the grief section separate or to try to integrate everything into a smooth read. I ended up going with the latter because the grief stories are all pretty heavy. And, fair warning, some of them are hella triggering.

But beyond that, as I shifted and rearranged the pieces of the puzzle, it seemed to me that they all fit together, that the tendrils of major life experiences reach into the more mundane or political ones, and that they are all rooted in every moment of our lives.

And in the end, most truly interesting writing is in some way marked by death or pain. Much of what people write about bicycling, specifically, is colored by a sense of vulnerability, of risk, of the sort of joy you rarely experience when the stakes are low.

In this age of social media, conversations seem to morph into polarized shouting matches about talking points. But there are always opportunities for slow, nuanced conversations about difficult topics, grappling with the personal in the contexts of bigger visions. Let this be another entry in that form. The stakes for society are, indeed, very high right now.

Whatever you do, keep pedaling,

Elly Blue

Portland, Oregon

December 10, 2014

Making Peace With the Wind

Barb Grover

Heres how Barb describes herself: Birds, bikes, books, knitting, and travel preoccupy my thoughts. When not at work selling cargo bikes, I like to combine two or three from that list to see what fun I can have. She contributed to the second issue of Taking the Lane way back when, which has been out of print for years but is now available as an ebook again, which isnt as poetic a format as her writing deserves, but such is the price.

Todays east wind is unsettling.

Sailors tell tales of the horrors of the doldrums. In Samuel Taylor Coleridges The Rime of the Ancient Mariner , windless water causes and represents an unsettling listlessness among seamen. We landlubbers know no such peril. For many of us its the wind that is unwelcome. The wind bugs us: blowing dust, messing up our hair, pruning branches, slamming doors, and rattling windows, turning pleasant bike rides into ordeals. And, theres an unidentifiable aspect that just puts some of us on edge. It makes me pace and makes me pensive. Darn wind.

Ive tried to make peace with the drafts that inhabit the world. One memorable attempt occurred on my bike, where first the wind shook me up and then turned me into a speck of dust.

I didnt start the day as a dust speck; I started the day as a bike tourist at the top of Coyote Mountain just east of San Diego. The wind farm near my campsite should have been a clue to the wind potential of this area. Indeed, I awoke to a strong west wind and knew Id be buffeted around a bit at some point during the day. Wind in the morning is never a good sign.

As I crossed the mountains and began the descent towards the east, the wind not only continued, it also grew in force. The descent out of the mountains on Hwy 8 was at times treacherous. Forceful gusts pushed me around as I struggled to retain control of my bike, the winds turbulent outburst shoving me off course, sometimes off of the shoulder and towards traffic.

As I neared the bottom of the hill, I stopped. The view into the Imperial Valley lay before me and it was not comforting. In the center of the valley a large sand storm raged. I consulted my map, estimated the path of the old road Id planned to ride, and believed Id be to the north of the storm.

No way was I going to turn around. There was only the tiny town of Ocotillo ahead. It proved not to have lodging or camping and I had no choice but to take my chances. As I took a quick north turn to hook up with the intended route, the wind hit me so hard it nearly knocked me over. I got off of the bike and walked the few hundred feet to my eastbound route. Picture my firm grasp on the bike, my bracing lean hard to the left, legs splayed, and barely staying on my feet as I shuffled along. After great effort I reached the intersection of County Highway S80 and turned to the east.