Rest In Peace, George the Cyclist
By Maureen Callahan
Every life is validated by purpose. For avid cyclist George Christensen – writer, movie buff, and afficionado of Carnegie Libraries across the country – what mattered most in life happened on a bike.
Tragically, Christensen passed away in April as a truck fatally struck him at last light near Ridgeway, SC, a small town near the state capital. He was riding to a Carnegie Library in Asheville, NC.
Although Christensen hung his hat in Countryside, he was a very quiet, albeit loyal, member of the Downers Grove Bike Club (DGBC). He showed up out of the blue one Thursday night about three years ago for the club’s weekly Thursday Night Escape ride. While he was happy to find a group that shared his life’s passion, he inadvertently ended up finding a place to belong.
Sometimes, you get more than you bargained for.
An eclectic soul by nature, Christensen was a man of few words except in writing. His blog, aptly named Geroge the Cyclist, was a very professionally written account of travels made on his bike. He utilized the Journalism degree he earned from Northwestern early in life to create a colorful and descriptive electronic record of the places he rode.
And there was plenty to write about. His Strava fitness tracking app got its own workout, averaging around 10,000 miles yearly. In his biggest year, it hit 15,000 – more than double the annual mileage of most car odometers.
Christensen came off as the sort who flew under the radar. He didn’t even have a cell phone. But anyone with a mind to find him needed to look no further than the hundreds of entries logged over thousands of miles that spanned six continents. His blog documented a life well-lived – on his bike. “I bought him his first iPad mini,” said Christensen’s long-time companion, Janina Ciezadlo. “Partly to make his blogging easier, but also to have a way to look out for him. He always posted a photo of wherever he set up his tent for the night. That was George. He lived his life on his bike.”
As a rule, Christensen rode about 60-100 miles per diem in rain, snow, or blazing heat. “He never wanted to break his stride,” said Ciezadlo. “Weather made no difference to him. He rode through anything.” Ciezadlo recalled an instance when Christensen set up camp for the night “somewhere in Madagascar.” A fellow camper came over to warn him of an approaching typhoon visible on his phone’s weather app. “George was somehow able to get inside somewhere to wait it out,” she said. “He said it wasn’t that bad.”
Every year, Christensen rode the identical route of the Tour de France, following behind the pack of competitors. Although he was offered a job as a sweeper – an assistant who follows the riders – numerous times, he never accepted, as he was happy just to be riding along. He often picked up directional signs left over from The Tour to give to elite riders like three-time winner, Greg LeMond. Christensen had planned to ride behind The Tour again this past July.
In addition to The Tour, many of Christensen’s blog entries revolved around visits to Carnegie Libraries all over the world. As an avid reader, especially of the classics, he had been to hundreds of these libraries and had hoped to get to all of them. He often took off on bike trips in which he rode state to state, visiting several dozen Carnegies in a short period.
For years, Christensen made a living as a bike messenger, often working in the dead of winter when the pay was better and few others wanted to ride. He saved enough to take off on long, purposeful rides in nicer weather.
He rode in Telluride, CO, every year and attended the film festival. Eventually, he began working at the event and ultimately ran the shipping department. “It was a big job,” said Ciezadlo. “That community of regulars is going to miss him. We’ve heard they’re going to find some way to commemorate him at the event this year.” Christensen’s final blog entry from the night before he died documented a visit with friends in North Carolina he knew from the film festival.
DGBC member Charlie Echert recounted Christensen’s multiple bikes, “some of which he found and rebuilt and repaired.” An empty milk carton and a cargo trailer attached to the back of his bike stored transported treasures found while dumpster diving around the city. “He had regular stops at grocery dumpsters, as he hated to see anything viable wasted. While unconventional to many, there were those of us who regularly took his extras,” Echert said, “often just because we knew it mattered to him.”
As simple as he lived, Christensen made life count. He did what he loved every day of the year and never missed a chance. He rode the length of three continents. Rubber from his tires can be found along bike routes from India to Oman to Iceland.
Although Christensen personified a free spirit, he managed to forge genuine human connections. “Ultimately, George needed a home to come back to,” Ciezadlo said. “I gave him that,” she told DGBC members over a couple of beers following the annual Ride of Silence last May. This year’s ride was in honor of Christensen. “But he also needed a way to connect with people. That’s where you guys came in. He was as happy as a lark to be riding with you.”
Christensen’s historical passion for riding is documented on his blog, “George the Cyclist” georgethecyclist.blogspot.com.
