As we moved out of lockdown, Dublin sought to create wider footpaths and cycle tracks to accommodate a safe reopening of the city. Eager to take advantage, I began to search for a new bike. However, one peripheral impact of Covid-19 has been an increase in bike sales. This made it difficult for me to find one in time for the start of the academic year. I eventually managed to buy one from Adverts and set off to collect it, hoping that it would not disappoint. Having travelled from Dublin to the countryside I rejoiced upon arrival that weeks of committed searching for the perfect new bike had prevailed – I had found the one. However, I also found that my road trip gave me the chance to pause and reflect on some wider issues. It led me to thoughts of sustainability, of nature, and the way in which we view the past and its link to our future.
“I wonder if perhaps the answer to the future question of a sustainable life lives in the advances of the past.”
Country dwellers still root their lives in a common experience. In the upkeep of traditions, the preservation of old buildings — all of which cement a sense of heritage. Nature works in tandem with the countryside to prevent the advent of swift broadband, a potential disturbance to the natural waves and rhythms of the camprestral world. Evolution is seen in the plough, the role of animals, breeding and crop production, improving due to the necessary inducement of humanity’s need for nutrition. The countryside has evolved by its own nature, at its own pace. This is in contrast to the rapidly changing, forceful industrialisation of the city. As I process these feelings, I wonder if perhaps the answer to the future question of a sustainable life lives in the advances of the past as opposed to the technological present and future.
For a long time now, we have known of the dangers associated with global warming, yet we have not taken sufficient action to prevent it. We will eventually reach a stage where we must finally stop peeking around the corner with inert trepidation, and instead, turn the corner to confront the problem. The appearance of the PX-10 model Peugeot bicycle in my life seemed to me like a call to make my own turn. Compared to the bike models I had been viewing in contemporary bike shops, this model seemed very trendy to me. Already I felt my cool alter ego bloom. As I pondered, the owner told me how she used to ride this very bicycle to school every morning about 40 years ago. Just then I felt a different wave of emotion, a woe for all today’s products that will live on only in memory, never to be physically handed down to younger generations. Will the future’s past even exist without any heirlooms to pass on?
Despite my unease, I set off on a mini test cycle and marvelled in awe of how light the bicycle was. The sense of lightweightedness had rubbed off on me too; I felt giddy and free. This model was the first carbon bicycle produced, a material that is 4.5 times lighter than steel and 3.2 times more resistant. Please excuse the cliché, but they just do not make them like this anymore.
“While giving them a detailed rundown of my now treasured bike, they became wonderstruck by the dynamo light, in particular by how largely sustainable it is.”
Over summertime, I became more familiar with the bike and it with me as my neighbours began to characterise me as “the woman who cycles.” One day I cycled to meet my friend El, a long-time, earnest bike rider. While giving them a detailed rundown of my now treasured bike, they became wonderstruck by the dynamo light. In particular by how largely sustainable it is, a release from batteries still yet unfortunately little known about. For those unfamiliar with this dutiful light, a dynamo is a machine resembling a small bottle mounted to a bicycle’s fork, turned by the tire or rim, thereby converting mechanical energy into electrical energy. The dynamo, introduced in the mid-1930s, continued to be widely produced up to the 1980s. It does make me wonder, why was their production stopped? Particularly in the age where global warming is beginning to exert its most damaging effects, the dynamo being recyclable as scrap metal and absent of hazardous chemicals should be valued as a godsend.
Writing from experience, I’m happy to report that the dynamo light is convenient, always switched on, secure, as it does not appeal to bicycle thieves, and perhaps most importantly, reliable even in the capricious Irish weather conditions. Moreover, coming from the view of a night-cyclist aficionado, the magic of the flickering beam throwing light ahead is the happiest way to live. In addition, I feel the dynamo helps me feel safest, an unfortunate but necessary consideration for a female cyclist. An increase in the number of female cyclists can only be a good thing, aligned with the assertion from the former US reformer and activist Susan B. Anthony, who said that “woman is riding to suffrage on the bicycle”. Yesterday, as I cycled in the night’s darkness, I realised I had taken the same circular route I used to take whilst on mindful walks around my area. I grew despondent as I noticed the rise in skip numbers around my estate filled with furniture and “great timber”, as my dad would call it.
“Items should be made to last, our throw-away culture needs to end by way of a circular economy.”
Will the future’s past even exist without any heirlooms to pass on? Everyone tells us to learn from the past, but this not just in regards to their mistakes, but also their successes. My experience with my new bike was just one example to confirm that items should be made to last, our throw-away culture needs to end by way of a circular economy. My bicycle’s original owner told me that she grew up in Dublin and is now living in the countryside. All those years ago, she purchased this bike from a shop minutes from my own home. This bike has lived a full life, has come full circle and has never been better. I think there’s some value, and perhaps something to be learned in that.
