After 30 years of shopping for one I bought an electric bike.
That's a long time to shop.
It built up a lot of feelings in me.
Now I have the electric bike and I am a little overwhelmed. It's so big.
Big in size, big in expectation, big in personality, big in personal mythology, big.
I have ridden it, but mostly so far I stare at it, warily, trying to work it out.
I haven't yet worked it out.
Thirty years ago they didn't really have electric bikes. That's when I started shopping.
It's pretty cold out and getting colder. When the snow comes again that should do it altogether and I'll put my bike in storage for four or five months having hardly used it.
I would have loved having this bike best when I was 12, on the streets of the San Fernando Valley, where it was Summer most of the time and my neighborhood was 100 percent steep hills. My bike has a way of making hills like they're nothing. It's already my favorite thing about my bike.
I would also have loved having this bike when I was thirty, and my back didn't hurt most of the time, and I could bike through the Fairgrounds to my new job at the library.
I might also love having this bike next summer, when I can load my camera in the panniers and head to the wilder parks along the River that are too far to walk to and take pictures of bears and coyotes, bald eagles and raccoons, skunks and fossils and wildflowers and blue cheese caves.
I put a bell on my bike, an extra light, and a rear view mirror.
For some reason I wanted to say in here: "Everyone should have an electric bike."
But it turns out what I need to say is: "May you all get what you want in less than thirty years."
"I think thirty years is better than never."