Glenn Kubish

This morning's bike ride downtown was nothing extraordinary. But there were some things worth noticing. The big tree on 101 Ave was all in at the photosynthesis roulette table. On green. At the shared use path trailhead, I felt like a spoke in a fancy dance. My friend Brian suggested Strauss. I said hello to a pedestrian heading south. I said hello to a magpie heading north. I correctly predicted that the white Uber would right hook across my path. I heard 10,000 Maniacs. I waved to Karly, who I count among my bicycling friends. I said hello to Jason as we arrived at Edmonton Tower. My morning had unfolded nicely. The day took unique turns. I guided Milan to City Centre Mall. He had a stroke three years ago. He was off to buy razors. I took a photograph from 1978 back to the exact place I took it on a Kodak Instant Camera as a 14-year-old kid. I loved that camera. I told the story to Eric and Brad fr...

Pedalling a bicycle in the city gives the rider the extra bit of time needed to read the surroundings. This open invitation helps make bicycle commuting something beyond an A-to-B mode of transport. In fact, there is an alphabet of experience between A and B. Here, in alphabetical order, are some of letters I read as I write myself along the streets of Edmonton. ATB Place on Jasper Avenue, where I worked for five years with some well-lettered people, used the bicycle as a metaphor to explain the balance needed to keep a complex organization moving ahead. Bon Ton Bakery is a block away, but I would ride across the city to get those poppyseed danishes. My grandmother in Winnipeg baked poppyseed bread. The snaky C on top of the CN Tower in Edmonton is my favourite neon sign. My father was a locomotive engineer with CN. My friend the artist Slavo was inspired by the CN sign. I always look up when I am riding below. Delwood Park, home to Delwood Hill, the highe...