When Arthur Plummer retired at 65, he bought a secondhand bicycle. His sister already rode with a seniors' cycling club in Waterloo, Ontario. He joined as one of its youngest members. He is 92 now, and the oldest. This year, by the time he spoke to The Guardian in September, his odometer already read 4,270 kilometers. His target is still 5,000 kilometers a year.
He was never a sporty child. Work filled the years in between. The bike waited until retirement, 27 years ago. When he started, he could hold about 25 kilometers an hour. Now he rides at 15 to 20. He stopped skiing at 90, worried about a broken bone. The bicycle stayed.
A few years ago he hit the road head first, broke his helmet, and passed out. People later told him that when he woke, he ran straight to his bike. "There is a kind of a connection between the rider and the bike," he says.
He keeps that bike on a rack next to his bed. "My bike is my best friend," he says. "We are a team." If he wakes in the night, he greets it: "Hey there, buddy."
After the interview, he planned another 40 kilometers. "I love cycling," he says. "When I get on my bike, I feel great." He comes home exhausted around 3 p.m., and calls it the nicest feeling. He hopes his last day is on the bike. He has a saying: he is cycling to eternity, and it is further than he thought.
This is one man's habit, not a plan for every 92-year-old. What it does show is simpler. A hobby that starts at 65 can still be going 27 years later, even after a crash that smashed a helmet.