Word: bike
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Wilbur's abiding dream of building a full-size flying machine that inspired their work. For many years, he once said, he had been "afflicted with the belief that flight is possible." The reality of that obsession was a lonely quest for the brothers in the workroom behind their bike shop, plotting to defy gravity and conquer the wind. Yet that obsessive kind of world-changing belief is a force that drives you to solve a problem, to find the breakthrough--a force that drives you to bet everything on a fragile wing or a new idea...
...exhorbitant fee. Jordan E. Brand '00 and Steffen Buschbacher '00 find that access to a car Brand's parents') in the Quad "makes visiting friends by the River much easier." Skateboards and Rollerblades come out of the closet when the weather is decent. For most Quad residents, however, biking provides the most convenient and accessible mode of alternative transportation (if the least skirt-friendly). Significantly faster than walking, biking doesn't require a schedule or any Shuttleboy savvy. And although pitfalls include rampant campus bike theft and recent legislation prohibiting sidewalk-riding, hordes of Quadlings agree with sophomore Luke...
Nobody eats breakfast in the Quad. That's not anything surprising, since nobody anywhere in college eats breakfast. I, too, skip the dining hall, throw my backpack on, and run out to the bike rack. It's 10:05 a.m. Class starts in two minutes-a quick calculation tells me I'll be three minutes, thirty-four seconds late to my Harvard Hall lecture. The closest bike rack is full, I end up being five minutes late exactly...
After my second class, I walk outside and try to figure out where I left my bike. Two laps around the Yard later, I spy it on the obscure rack hidden by a bush...
...Office, where I'll have to come back in three hours for work. Get back to the Quad at 2:30 p.m. I'm exhausted, shoulders sore from my backpack. I remember that I forgot to turn in my Philosophy paper while I was in the Yard. Sonofa b$%@#! Bike back to Emerson (in the rain) and chuck the soggy mess into TF's mailbox...