Full moon, moist late August night, leaving the downtown core after yet another disappointing evening of failed social interactions. Our spirits were low indeed, and my friend was about to leave Montreal for good. Something needed to happen, something was about to give.
Being so far from our homes, and without bikes, we began the grueling march towards the glowing summer mountain. It seemed unreachable, our feet ached it was somewhere between the fighting drunks on crescent and the bourgeois dinners feasting on lobster that it dawned on us. Bixi!
I hadn’t ridden a bixi before, and I never thought I would be in a position to embrace such a form of transport. Before I even knew what bike I wanted (they all looked so nice you see), I had one thrust into my hands from my friend, he had finished a summer of love, so to say, with the bixi, and now it was my turn.
Down de Maisonneuve we soared, bells ringing and voices singing, we were unstoppable. Like mighty warriors on their horses, we passed the world by in a flash, dodging every obstacle in our way. Nothing could stop us.
Roaring past the looming McGill gates, we passed on the lawn, swerving in and out, like some sort of iron bike synchronized dance. Our hearts beat in rhythm with those fancy lights (which are just as safe as they are cool) Feeling the grass shred beneath our tires, for the first time in the evening, we were alive.
Better then booze, better than drugs, the bixi had showed us the path to some kind of strange enlightenment, and a darn good shortcut through the mountain
Maybe it was the air that night, or the specific bikes that called us to their comfortable and manageable quick adjustment seats, whatever it was, we were bright burning halos of pure life force. The stars and moon guided our path home, as did the little flashing lights on our bixi.
As soon as it started it was over: The ride, the night, the summer. What a way to end it all Brendan.
It is winter now, and as I see the finial bixi stands being taken down, like ancient statutes’ from a time passed, I decided to express my appreciation for these bikes. May they return with the spring, and bring joy to all of us.
Max Kelly, Concordia student