The Metra station here has 681 parking spots. The guy in the ticket booth says he thinks it won't be until next year before it's filled like a normal weekday, if then. Today eleven cars were parked there.
On Monday I saw a lone passenger waiting for the 9:00 a.m. inbound train. He was taking his bike downtown. I envied him.
For much of my youth, before learning to drive I traversed Chicago by bicycle or by public transportation. I was the last of my group to get my license, mainly because I saw no need to do so. Anywhere I needed to get to was accessible by foot, two wheels, or mass transit.
Sidewalks and busses were safe for the most part. Riding a bike was a bit more hazardous because most often in a confrontation between a bike and an auto, the auto has the advantage, particularly in the days before the helmets and pads that are the usual accoutrements of bicyclists in the 21st century. With all the stuff kids wear today, the car might lose.
Having relatively little protection on a bike made me develop a cautious fearlessness when I took to the streets of my home city. I certainly wouldn’t ride downtown at night.
Day time wasn’t any safer.
It was like that almost every day, almost anywhere in the city. I am somewhat amazed that I made it out of the city alive.
I would ride along train tracks, through factory parking lots.
I would ride down hills at Riis Park, where I really did break the fork on the Schwinn I was riding.
I rode down the middle of the four lanes on the west end of Fullerton Avenue, traffic in both directions.
I must have been lucky, because now I realize how stupid that really was.
Still I was envious of that guy with his bike, heading downtown to ride with reckless abandon.
I could ride there all day long. Probably without a helmet.
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