The Blessings Of The Bikes

The thing about bicyclists is, we have our own traditions. Especially in New York. Our traditions tend to be a unique mixture of old and new, of commercial and sacred, of human and mechanical – and with an ever-increasing bike population in NYC, they are ever evolving. 

So it is that Lola and I find ourselves at The Cathedral of St. John The Divine for the Annual Blessings Of The Bikes.

This is a tradition that began in 1999 and it’s a sort of send off to the Five Boro Bike Tour. Not all present are taking the tour. No matter. Cycling is a big tent and The Cathedral welcomes us all.

At 8:30am, Lola and I are among the first to arrive.

But soon we are joined by many others...

At 8:55 we are ushered in.

Lola and I lead the procession up the left aisle following two bagpipes. Their majestic sound winds its way to the rafters and echoes throughout The Cathedral. And as we make our way forward, I find myself unexpectedly tearing up. 

We (and our bikes) come in all shapes and sizes. But we have this one thing in common: a passion for life on two wheels. A shared understanding of what it feels like to have the wind in your ears, to have transportation fueled by your own efforts. We love the bikes that give us this: everything from joy, independence and a sense of accomplishment, to the simple ability to making a living. How miraculous! We are indeed a world-wide community and it’s touching to feel such a part of it. 

The bagpipers continue to play...

Until we are lined up on either side. 

And then the Reverend Canon Julia E. Whitworth reads the following passage from The Book Of Ezekiel.

Wheels and life. Spirit and wheels. An enigmatic vision indeed.

The ceremony proceeds with a psalm, a prayer and then the Blessings of the Bikes. The Reverend proceeds down the aisle sprinkling our bikes with holy water. 

The action is met with a sweet chorus of tinkling bells (and one klaxon who after one honk, seems to have realized he’s taken it too far) which follow her up and down the central aisle. 

I feel badly that Lola can’t participate. Road bikes are considered too serious to have bells. But why would I want to be serious? Why would I want to take the one thing in my life that brings me pure joy, and pollute it with judgments of what is valid and what is not? That’s the great thing about biking. It’s totally democratic; anybody can do it. I determine to find Lola a bell in time for the Tour.

After The Blessings, a moment of remembrance for those killed on bikes last year, and this year. Their names are read, and as the bagpipes play Amazing Grace, a symbolic “Ghost Bike” is wheeled in.

I don’t know how many of us personally know people who lost their lives on a bike, but it’s a statistic we’d all like to see disappear forever. I think, as always, of my dear friend Jamie, killed on his bike at age 38 in NYC.

There is a brief announcement encouraging a small donation (I brought no cash, but will do this online). Then a final benediction, and we proceed in grand procession around The Cathedral.

As the organ plays a powerful prelude with all the stops out, The Cathedral walls reverberate with grandeur. It’s inspiring. It’s regal. It’s – wait a minute. Is that the theme from ET? 

I have to laugh. But why not? In thinking about it, it doesn’t surprise me. Because Steven Spielberg is one of us – he must be. Look at his logo:

As we exit The Cathedral, some of us group together for a ride down around The Battery to The Bike Expo – a shameless convention of bike merchandising featuring everything from bikes, to clothing to accessories. And we have to walk all the way through it to get our passes to the 5 Boro Bike Tour.

Yes, from God to Mammon in approximately ten miles. And like the Blessings of the Bikes, Bike Expo is also an annual event. The two are linked.

As I say, the thing about bicyclists is, we have our own traditions.