It was a lovely Saturday evening when I rode out from my apartment in Minneapolis. The air had died down from any athletic event of the day, as everyone had left the stadium just blocks from me. A crisp autumn breeze that was around most of the day had also gone away, but that did not matter, as I was going to make my own breeze.
As I began to head east, my oxymoron of a bike, being new to me but an old Schwinn 10-speed nonetheless, effortlessly carried me up the first hill and over to University Avenue. The street itself made for an easy first route, being mostly straight and unwavering for five miles from the University of Minnesota. As I turned onto the straight road, I glanced at the Witch Hat Tower of Prospect Park, its commanding gaze fixed in all directions on the surrounding area. No doubt one could see for miles from that height, I thought.
After the first hill, I began to fly southeast, with each cycle of the pedals making me feel as if one stride was many times longer than walking alone. I was floating on a few inches of air, and it felt that way as the air blew past, chilling my face comfortably. With two lanes the whole way and with evening traffic, I also had to worry about a few cars going by. This is not to say it was busy the entire time, but I did witness a fire truck heading out as I reached the outskirts of St. Paul’s Macalester district. The metro rail running alongside me, I made attempts many times to keep up with the trains as they went by every few minutes. These were always in vain, as the traffic lights were not in my favor, but for a moment one could look out and see how well I could keep up on my vehicle. For the whole time, whether climbing or descending hills or not, my loyal bike (which I have come to name Cecilia) showed no signs of stress, converting my efforts only into more power and speed.
With each block I passed, mainly in St. Paul, I noticed a slight neighborhood situated between the many businesses that you would find on this road. Going through it, I saw how the children of the city made the best of their cramped location to play. On one side, a couple boys were taking turns jumping off the porch onto a pile of mattresses in the driveway. On the other, a group of kids played football (the global kind, of course) in an empty lot, fenced off from the buildings surrounding it. A very different world from the open space of the countryside, but the adjustments people make to their surroundings show an inkling of our versatility to live just about anywhere in the world, as we do. They will certainly have their memories, I thought as I flew by.
For the most part of University Avenue, I saw a large variety of businesses. Strip malls of varying services; rows of shops separated only by walls and small alleys; signs indicating the small businesses run from residential spaces; and corporate America rearing its ugly head, to generalize them all. In some locations, I saw the bright success of the places open for customers, and the dilapidated failures of those successful in the past, abandoned now for greater opportunities. As I passed a building that was completely stripped to be rebuilt anew, I reflected on the how progress in society has made location, location, location become more important than ever to those that just want an honest living in the world. I wondered what plans were made for the building, as I never keep up on those sorts of things, but realized I also might never care in the grand scheme of things anyways. So I continued onward.
Finally passing all of these places, I came upon the crux of my journey: the State Capitol Building of St. Paul. I found the location of the building to be quite interesting, as it stood next to one of the longest and steepest of hills I have ever encountered while biking. However, it certainly helped establish its grandeur over downtown St. Paul, just at the bottom of the long hill. The state legislature building across the way was just as striking with its gleaming metal and spotless windows. Looking at the clock, I found that only a half hour had passed since I left the University in Minneapolis, a victory for myself considering my modest athletic abilities. I started down the hill but stopped on the only grassy spot I could see in the area, just east of the Capitol near a busy intersection that gave me a full view of downtown, looking calm, quiet, and serene, though I knew better what it might be like there.
It was here that I decided to turn back and fly back to Minneapolis. Not because it was getting dark, as I had lights on my bike. Not because I was tired, as I could have easily gone further. Not because I was cold, as I was even dressed too warm for the evening. Not even because I did not feel safe, as I was always aware of who was around me at stop lights.
So why did I turn around? Well, I thought I had enough to write about for this article, and it seems I in fact did. Not bad for my first biking trip in the Twin Cities!
