Never before have I taken it
upon my self to protest the Cavalier
Daily's editorials, usually regarding
them as advice from an older brother.
But, as someone once said, a
man comes to the crossroads at
some point in his life. Alas, I find
that my big brother has turned on
me, calling bicycles "two-wheeled
monstrosities."
Now, I personally ride a three
gear English racer (I never could
figure out those ten speed jobs) and
have braved sneers, insults, and
even death on occasion, in my
quest to get to class a little faster.
I've even converted a few non-believers
in the last year.
It all began in my second year,
when I anticipated the exact problem
that the C.D. points out; that
living at Alderman Road would
make one heck of a walk to Cabell
Hall. Hence, the bicycle, an inexpensive,
healthy, virtuous way to
travel.
I could never understand why
bicycles were not accepted at U. Va.
as at other colleges. Perhaps it just
wasn't the studly thing to do. I
suppose I could damn myself further
by revealing I've never been to
Virginia football game either, but
that's a topic for another time and
place.
I find my cause strengthened
this year. Not even the Woody
report on coeducation could
foresee that more girls would mean
more bicycles. I was positive this
would even lead to extra dividends.
Unfortunately, they do not seem to
have materialized, because girls who
ride bikes are not particularly fascinated
by guys who do the same.
To the editorial's accusation
that inevitable collisions will take
place between pedestrian and
speeding bicycler I can only plead
no contest. Just last week on
McCormick Road I swerved to
avoid a car pulling from the curb,
swerved again to avoid a street
crosser by several millimeters, and
swerved on last time to regain my
balance. Those who were on the
sidewalk could not be sure whether
to applaud for this new type of
entertainment or simply curse me.
But if the C.D.'s suggestion of a
shuttle bus is enacted, I must sadly
predict the rapid disappearance of
my pedaled species. For there is
nothing more tortuous than to be
caught in the undertow of exhaust
fumes produced by the
"four-wheeled monstrosities" while
coasting in third gear.
