Schwinn Onus | In it to Schwinn It, Vol. 2 — BIKE YOUR CITY.

Last Updated: October 14, 2020

“It’s just like riding a bike.”

— unknown source

Once you know how to ride a bike, riding again is easy. The hard part comes when you try to find time to ride it — this adulting business isn’t exactly rife with free time, and unless you’re one of the rare specimens who’ll likely live ’til a rip old age because they commute to work by bike each day, between daycare pickups, drop-offs, extra hours at the 9-5 and a little something called Daylight Savings Time that took all the sunshine with it when it went away, the opportunities to get on your wheels and zip through the city sometimes feel few and far between.

But that’s just it — you can make a whole heap of excuses for why you won’t go biking, but the moment you jump on and get going, the feeling is amazing.

You have to stop stalling, though — there’s no snow on the ground yet, but soon enough, many of us will be hibernating as much as possible, longing for the days where going outside didn’t mean freezing our faces off and biking was a quick way to warm up on even the nippiest of autumn days. You’re going to look back at these days and wonder why you were so hesitant to go out and have a little fun, regretting that you’ll need to wait until spring (or, if you speak Canadian, like, May) to get back on your ride, swearing that you’ll take full advantage of the weather next time and stop leaving for tomorrow the awesome things you could do today!

But why wait until spring — you should hop on that bad boy today while you still can and have some adventures while the weather’s still tolerable!

And with that lesson in mind, that’s exactly what I did — got off of my rear end, made some time to get on my Schwinn, and explored parts of my neighbourhood I’d rarely visit otherwise.

Ladies, gentlemen and children of all ages — I present to you my story of remembering how to bike my city.

Schwinn Onus | In It to Schwinn It — How the Biking Behemoth Got Me Back on Two Wheels!

Last Updated: October 14, 2020

It was the summer of 2000, and I’d enrolled in a Grade 12 Physics class at a nearby summer school to make up for the poor grade I’d gotten in the school year that’d just come crashing down around me. I was turning over a new leaf, but swapping my convenient downtown lifestyle for a more suburban routine — and without a set of wheels to call my own, I took to biking the 20 minutes to school to keep things simple.

I figured I could get used to this — I’d finish my last year of school in The Credit Woodlands, a school where many of my Grade 6 classmates wound up and had the program I was looking for. As I spent my summer days there under the tutelage of Mr. Burnham, I made my peace with its windowless interior and started filling my transfer form to make it all final.

That is, until I walked out from class one day and saw nary but a cut lock where my bike should’ve been.