Ken Brinich is shown here at the summit of Bear Tooth Pass in Montana in 2023. (Submitted photo)

I love freedom. It’s hard to imagine life without the freedoms we enjoy. It’s not just the freedoms found in the Bill of Rights. It’s being able to buy ice cream from Goody’s on a hot summer day and having a dozen assorted flavors to choose from. It’s travelling 3,000 miles coast to coast without having to show identity papers or having to avoid war zones. It is having friendly Canadian neighbors to the north and friendly Mexican neighbors to the south. It’s having educational institutions that graduate competent students ready to participate in a world with a multitude of diverse values, even if I disagree.

How we are raised influences our perception of freedom. I am the sixth of eight children. My oldest siblings were raised by rookie parents who paid close attention to them. Mom and Dad had time to read the operating manual and were on the lookout for hazards to avoid. Lots of attention and not much freedom for those sibs. When the next two kids arrived, my parents had some practice and were efficient managers. With the fifth child they were getting out of their comfort zone. There was no budget to hire help. They were forced to deal with the divided attention resulting from having five kids running in five different directions. No leash can keep five kids heeled. Two or three kids were always sneaking away. When I arrived, my parents had given up. And there were still two more kids on the way. My parents were actively looking for ways to set someone free. Not Bill of Rights type freedoms. More like “I need peace and quiet. You kids find something to do and give me some space!”

My bicycle was my freedom. It was a single speed bike with coaster brakes and balloon tires. On a hot summer day, I would get on and head out for the day. There was a park nearby called the Emerald Necklace. It was a 35-mile-long forested greenway in urban northeast Ohio. It had a river and a road running through it. The forest was cool on a hot summer day. The parks department built a paved bike trail through part of it. That was heaven. I would recruit a sibling or a friend or two and we would be gone all day. No helicopter parents; no guardrails. Just freedom. Later, when I had a paper route and was able to make money, I bought a used ten-speed bike. My dad said “You don’t need 10 speeds! Save your money for something useful.” But he didn’t complain too much. Biking set me free and kept me out of his hair. One day I rode to Oberlin, Ohio and back. It was a 55-mile ride on urban roads. When I got home Mom asked me what I had done that day. I told her I rode my bike to Oberlin and back. “You did what!?” You’d think I went to the moon.

Bikes are freedom. You just get on and go. You don’t need two tons of steel, rubber, glass, plastic, and fuel. You don’t need good roads or parking spaces or a license. Bikes are sooo good for you. As I enter my eighth decade, I attribute continued good health to riding a bike to get to where I need or want to go.

I applaud the Bend City Council’s emphasis on making Bend’s transportation system more bike friendly. Bend should be Oregon’s Bike City. Continued population growth is difficult to manage, and some people will always be dissatisfied. But whatever growth problems we have, a car shortage is not one of them. Let more people move into Bend, just get them on bikes and leave the cars behind. This community will be healthier and more free.

Here’s to the upcoming Fourth of July Freedom Ride! Let freedom ring.

Ken Brinich lives in Bend.