What I See From My Bike Seat

Hitchens" Ride GCC Team

Our Multi-Path System attracts many people. I've talked to individuals who chose to move here largely because of this cherished system. To clarify, while some still mention the old figure of 150 km, we have now expanded to 190 km and continue to grow. Most paths are paved, some are single track, and others are dirt, but I can assure you that the view from each one is spectacular.

A few years ago, I was diagnosed with two types of cancer. Both were treated swiftly and successfully, and not a day goes by without me realizing how fortunate I am. A dear friend of mine had one of the same cancers but wasn't diagnosed early enough, and he passed away within six months. These experiences make you reevaluate everything. Around the same time, my son took me to a bike store for some upgrades, and I went along just to spend time with him. Unexpectedly, I left with a new bike. I don't usually make spontaneous big purchases, but the new technology made my 1990 mountain bike seem outdated. Riding the new bike felt like being a kid again, rediscovering joy with a more grateful perspective. On my way home, I attended another friend's funeral, who died too young. Cancer was claiming too many lives.

It was then that another friend told me about a cancer ride. I initially dismissed it, but the following year, I decided to participate with the help of my friends. It turned out to be quite significant. My entire family joined in, supporting and participating in the effort to fight back against cancer. Over eight years, the four of us have ridden 18,456 km and raised $73,236.19 for cancer research at The Sick Kids Foundation. This annual fundraiser counts kilometers ridden in just two months each year.

I share this long story to say that I've ridden our trail system repeatedly. I've also compared it to many other communities. We are neither the best nor the worst, but we lack many basic "Share the Trail" protocols common in trail culture. Often, when I ring my bell to pass on the left, I see walkers looking left and right but rarely behind, not knowing why there's a ringing sound. Recently, I use my voice as the primary means of alerting others. Bikers or walkers often ride on the left side of a sharrow or walking path, unaware of the road rules. Still, I can say that the overall attitude is very positive. In other places, people look at me strangely when I offer a hearty greeting to everyone. In Medicine Hat, you're 90% likely to receive a friendly response.

Riding on the roads is more dangerous, and I avoid it as much as possible, but some places are only accessible by taking a quick risk in traffic. Many drivers are courteous, often giving us the right of way when it's actually dangerous to do so. My biggest frustration with drivers is when they encroach on crosswalks or roll slowly through intersections. Bikers also share some of the blame.

Basic respect and common sense can go a long way. I never go through an intersection without being highly alert. In my truck, I never drive through a crosswalk. I give plenty of room to any pedestrian or cyclist on the road. Whether on a trail or road, I ride on the right and pass on the left, announcing my approach. Be friendly, be aware. I wave at children who are often puzzled by the big man in lycra. I stop to help anyone who seems in need. Let's share the trail and the joy of being outdoors. It can be simple if we try. I'm in, who else?