George Christensen
Chicago, d.22.April.2024, killed by
truck driver while riding
George Christensen was a legendary Chicago bike messenger and
traveling cyclist. His messenger career dates back to 1989, working
mostly winters and traveling by bike the rest of the time, all over
the world. He was killed on one of his trips by a truck driver while
cycling in South Carolina on April 22, 2024.
In 2001 after a driver was convicted of murdering bike messenger
Tommy McBride, George Christensen broke down as he talked about
McBride, a Chicago bike messenger for seven years with whom
Christensen had worked for many years. “My toughest day of
messengering–through extreme cold, extreme heat, whatever–was the
day after he was killed,” Christensen said in the hallway outside
Courtroom 301. “I could really feel his presence that day.”
Christensen said he hoped the verdict would send a signal to drivers
that “vehicles are murder weapons.” He added that he thought the
trial’s outcome would give “bicyclists a little insurance that the
law is on their side.” “It could have happened to any of us,” he
said. “We’ve all had these confrontations.”
Christensen was killed just four days before the 25th anniversary of
his friend, Tommy McBride's murder.
George Christensen spends the winter as
a bike messenger and the rest of the year touring the world on two
wheels.
by Jeffrey Felshman
Chicago Reader, November 23, 2006
George Christensen, a 55-year-old bike messenger, likes to set
challenges for himself. In 1975 he sat through every inning of every
game in the bleachers at Wrigley Field. In 1991 he made 73
deliveries in one day, a record for Chicago bike messengers at the
time. Last spring he attended 70 movies in 12 days.
But of all his serial obsessions, one stands out. Any bicycling
enthusiast might take one long trip of 5,000 or more miles. Some
take two or three. Christensen has taken 15. He’s also done at least
one 1,000-mile tour every year since 1977 and more 300-to-500-mile
trips than he can count. At this point, he says, “It takes several
days of jogging the memory to shake them all out.”
Since 1989 he’s been a messenger with Cannonball, now called
Dynamex. He works only in the winter–he says there are fewer
pedestrians to contend with and the money’s better because fewer
messengers are working–and the rest of the year he tours. He says
sometimes on a frigid January morning a downtown office worker will
ask sympathetically if he’s all right. He isn’t insulted. He knows
you don’t see many white-haired bicycle messengers, especially in
the winter. “If I tell them a little bit about myself,” he says,
“they’re relieved.” Then it’s his turn to feel sorry for them. “I
feel like I’m out there riding around the Loop asserting my freedom,
going by buses with all these people that are comatose and people
sleepwalking down the sidewalks. And I’m intensely alive out there,
alert and sensitive to every little stimuli.”
Christensen could have been one of them. He grew up in comfortable
circumstances in north-suburban Glenview, where his father was a
trader, his mother a homemaker. As a 12-year-old he bet his younger
sister he’d never get married. Realizing he’d have to die to
collect, he bet her instead that he wouldn’t be married at 40. On
his 40th birthday his sister sent him a dollar.
As a kid he was always saving his allowance for something, but
didn’t know what. He wanted a better bike than the one-speed his
parents gave all their kids but wouldn’t spend his money on the
Schwinn Varsity ten-speed he coveted. “My brother, who’s two years
younger than me, he bought the Schwinn Varsity,” he says.
He also understood early on how limiting full-time work can be. His
family took a vacation once a year. “Everyplace we went I always
liked it and wanted to go back,” he says.
“But you can’t do that when you have just one vacation a year like
my parents did.”
Christensen graduated from Northwestern’s Medill School of
Journalism in 1973, then got a job as an administrative assistant
for a trucking firm. He says everyone seemed to be working toward
retirement, so he decided to save his money and retire at the end of
the year. He saved $10,000, which he figured he could stretch to
last five years. But he had friends who owned small businesses, and
they kept asking him to do odd jobs for them–deliveries, painting,
bookkeeping. Still, he took the winter off and went skiing.
He was also getting serious about biking. “It combines a lot of
things I like to do,” he says. “I like to travel, I like to be
outdoors, I like to be physically active.” In 1977 he took his first
cross-country trip, from Virginia to Oregon, and by the time he got
to Kentucky he was ready to quit. He was on a ten-speed with skinny
tires, and one or the other would blow out two or three times a day.
In Lexington he discovered thicker tires and decided he could keep
going. “There’s a certain amount of suffering to touring,” he says.
“You’ve got to endure.”
Since then he’s biked up the “world’s most dangerous road” (a
one-lane mountain path in Bolivia), across “America’s loneliest
highway” (Nevada’s Highway 50) three times, and over various
“highways from hell,” including some in Cambodia. In 1984 he cycled
across New Zealand and Australia, including the Nullarbor Plain, a
750-mile stretch of treeless desert. In 1986 he rode 900 miles from
Chicago to New Orleans in mid-January, hoping to get into the Super
Bowl. He couldn’t get a ticket and wound up watching the game in a
bar. Afterward he headed off to Mexico. In 1989 he rode 7,000 miles
in South America, from Medellin, Colombia, to Tierra del Fuego.
Along the way he crossed Chile’s Atacama Desert. “It was headwinds
that hold for 3,000 miles,” he says. “It was the first trip I’d done
where I thought, jeez, this is one I don’t want to do again. I’m not
enjoying this.” But he’s proud that he made it.
Fifteen years ago Christensen read a Roger Ebert column about the
Telluride film festival and decided to go. He began working at the
festival the following year and has gone back for a month every year
since, usually as the head of its shipping department. Now film
festivals are part of his cycling itinerary, and he’s been to fests
in, among other places, Rotterdam, Berlin, and Sodankyla, Finland.
“As a cyclist I’m an endurance athlete, and when I go to film
festivals I’m an endurance filmgoer,” he says. “I am sort of
obsessional about both.” Yet after he went to Cannes this year,
where he watched the 70 films in 12 days, he didn’t see another
movie for two months.
“There’s a Greek saying that you shouldn’t do anything to excess,
although Blake says that by going to extremes, that’s how you
learn,” he says. But then he adds, “There’s a Japanese saying about
climbing Mount Fuji–that’s sort of a rite of passage for them. ‘He
who doesn’t climb Mount Fuji is a fool, but he who climbs it more
than once is an even greater fool.'”
Christensen usually tours alone, though he sometimes rides with a
friend. For many years he took trips to Mexico with his girlfriend,
Chrissy Daly. “Chrissy and I spent all or parts of a dozen or so
winters in the small fishing village of Puerto Escondido,” he says.
“We drove down a couple times. I also biked down and met up with her
several times. She died of cancer two years ago. Last winter I took
her ashes to Puerto Escondido and sprinkled them on our favorite
beach.”
When he’s touring Christensen rides his Trek 18-speed an average of
12 hours a day, two hours on the bike and one hour off. He usually
rides 90 to 100 miles each day, eating nuts and energy bars almost
continuously. His panniers weigh 50 pounds, and among the things
inside are a tent, sleeping bag, one change of clothes, tools and
parts, and a can opener. He took a stove on his first cross-country
trip but hasn’t since. “I discovered you need extra water for
cooking and cleaning,” he says. Occasionally he’ll eat in a
restaurant if he can find one that’s cheap enough, but most of the
time he shops in local stores for items such as peanut butter and
bread or baked beans, which he eats straight from the can. One time
in rural Cuba he and a friend couldn’t find a store that accepted
anything besides ration cards. They waited outside a store trying to
find someone who’d take American dollars for something to eat, but
nobody would. They ate their emergency rations–peanut butter out of
the jar–until they reached a city.
He says he’s never had trouble finding a place to camp. “The one
great lesson I’ve learned, the one true axiom, is there’s always a
camp spot awaiting you,” he says. “Something is going to turn up.”
For years Christensen never took more than a few snapshots on his
trips. “I didn’t wish to be preoccupied with looking for photos and
be just another schmuck with a camera taking pictures that others
only feign to have interest in,” he says. But in 1991 he was headed
to India and Nepal, and his friends persuaded him to take slide
film. He liked the results. “It’s the difference between a toenail
and a full body shot,” he says. Four years ago Richard Houk of the
DePaul Geographic Society invited him to speak about the Nepal trip.
“He gave a great program,” says Houk. “In fact, he’s done two
programs. The other one dealt with Indochina.” Its focus was his
2002 trip through Thailand and Vietnam.
In a typical year Christensen rides about 8,500 miles–3,500 as a
messenger and 5,000 as a tourist. This year he figures he’ll top
11,500 miles. He biked the 600 miles from Paris to Cannes, then
spent a month cycling through eastern Europe. On the way back he
rode ahead of the racers in the first and last stages of the Tour de
France, his third Tour in three years. The racers and their bikes
are sometimes taken in vans to the next stage, but Christensen says
he couldn’t accept a ride. “Once you start doing that,” he says,
“you’re always tempted.” In mid-September he left for Japan, biking
across the northern part of the country before returning to Chicago
on October 29.
As the miles pile up, Christensen sometimes wonders when he’ll have
to slow down. But he still puts in as many miles every day as he did
when he was in his 20s, and he doesn’t want to quit. “I’ve seen an
awful lot of the world,” he says, “but there’s still an awful lot
more out there.” In October he rode his bike to the Mount Fuji
trailhead at 7,800 feet, where he set up camp even though it’s not
permitted. The next morning it was cold and raining, but he headed
up the trail, which was closed for the season. He made it to 10,000
feet, 2,385 feet short of the summit, before being turned back by
driving snow. Would he try a second time? “If the opportunity came
along I wouldn’t mind going back and doing the lower half of the
country,” he says. “And since Fuji’s south of Tokyo, Fuji would be
there to pluck again.”
Legendary Chicago bicycle traveler and writer George Christensen
killed by truck driver in South Carolina
By John Greenfield
Streetsblog Chicago, April 24, 2024
As a longtime bicycle courier, and one of Chicago's most adventurous
bike riders and writers, George Christensen did extensive cycling
trips in Africa, Asia, Australia, Europe, North America, and South
America. These included biking the length of three continents and
one subcontinent, India. Starting in 2001, he eloquently documented
his travels on his well-read blog, George the Cyclist.
But tragically, on Monday evening Christensen's life was cut short
at age 73, when a truck driver fatally struck him as he rode through
the southeastern United States.
On Tuesday morning sources notified Streetsblog that Christensen was
the bike rider that a semi operator struck and killed Monday night
near Ridgeway, South Carolina, a small town about 25 miles north of
Columbia, the state capital. According to a report in The State by
Noah Feit, on Monday, April 22, around 7:30 p.m. Christensen was
cycling west on Highway 34, about three miles southeast of Ridgeway,
near Autumn Drive. The sun would set a little after 8 p.m. that
night.
South Carolina Highway Patrol Master Trooper Gary Miller told The
State that the driver of a westbound 2022 Mack truck with a trailer
hit the back of Christensen's bike, killing him. The trucker was
uninjured, and no other injuries were reported.
Miller told The State that information about what caused the crash
was not available yet, but the highway patrol was still
investigating the case. There was no word on whether the trucker was
issued charges or citations. Streetsblog has contacted the highway
patrol to request an update on the case if it becomes available.
Wednesday morning, Fairfield County Coroner Chris Hill released the
name the bicyclist killed in Monday's crash. "George Christensen,
age 73, of Countryside, Illinois, was traveling west on Highway 34
in Ridgeway, SC when he was struck by a truck [driver] also
traveling west on Highway 34," the coroner stated. "Mr. Christensen
succumbed to his injuries on the scene of the [crash]. This incident
continues to be investigated by Fairfield County Coroner’s Office
and South Carolina Highway Patrol."
Christensen often wrote blog entries while pursuing one of his many
passions, visiting historic Carnegie libraries across the United
States. That was the case on this trip. Entries from earlier this
month state that he recently rode Amtrak from Chicago to Washington
D.C., took another train route to Orlando, Florida, then biked north
near the Atlantic coast, stopping at libraries along the way. Here's
a rough approximation of his route based on his April posts.
In the final entry of his blog on Sunday, April 21, Christensen, a
hardcore cinephile, wrote that he traveled to Wilmington, North
Carolina to visit old friends who are fellow Telluride Film Festival
fans. After camping at their house, "I headed west out of town over
the Cape Fear River once again towards South Carolina for six
Carnegies [libraries] inland from the coast," he wrote.
Christensen blogged that after a few hours of cycling in 80-degree
weather that day he stopped to buy a cold drink at a gas station
mini mart. As he was sitting out front cooling off, the clerk came
outside and offered him three boxes of chicken wings. "I see you’re
biking," she said. "Here’s some chicken wings for you."
Christensen pedaled on into ominous weather. "Ninety minutes before
dark clouds moved in and shortly there was thunder and lightning in
the distance," he wrote in the last paragraph. "I was hoping the
storm might bypass me, but when a few scattered drops of rain began
to fall, I started looking for an easy access into the forest. I
came upon a slightly overgrown path that led to an abandoned
farmhouse, the first I had camped beside in these travels, setting
up my tent having to only absorb a few drops of rain before it came
down in earnest. I still had some chicken wings to mix in with my
ramen." Fittingly, the last words of his blog highlighted the
goodwill he often encountered from people he met on the road.
Christensen's longtime partner Janina Ciezadlo graciously shared
some thoughts with Streetsblog. "I trust people who know George, or
are just learning about him, know that he was a legendary touring
cyclist traveling everywhere from Oman to Madagascar to Iceland. He
was an inspiring, encouraging ambassador of the bike. He wanted
everyone to ride. Needless to say, he kept my bike in working
order."
"He lived simply and devoted himself to cycling," she added. "He
visited the Tour De France for almost 20 summers and followed the
course [on bicycle]. He was an expert on its history and culture; He
died with a plane reservation for this year’s Tour. Much of his
touring life was centered on visiting and documenting all the
Carnegie libraries in the world. Photographs of these beautiful
early 20th century buildings can be found on his blog. He loved
libraries."
"George had an extraordinary range of interests," Ciezadlo
concluded. "As a volunteer he gave of his time at Facets Multimedia
here in Chicago and at the Telluride Film Festival; he had a
tremendous amount of knowledge about film and film festivals. He was
a reader. Among other books, he recently had read all of Balzac and
Zola, and of course watched every classic film adaption of those
novels. Lately he had been volunteering in restoration projects in
the Cook County Forest Preserves. Some people will know that he was
an incurable dumpster diver and distributed recovered food to
others."
Elizabeth Adamczyk, organizer of the annual Chicago Ride of Silence
and a longtime friend of Christensen, said they met through her work
at Northwestern University, where he was an alumnus. "We both had a
love of learning and a love of bicycling, and we became fast
friends. George was integral to me becoming a year-round cyclist. He
was a voracious reader, very knowledgeable about Carnegie libraries,
pro cycling, his next bike adventure, and anything else that he
decided to learn about."
"In recent years he got to know my mother and, helped her out with
random household tasks," she added. "He was always there to lend a
hand, and he loved to help."
According to Adamczyk, 2023 was the first year Christensen was in
Chicago for the Ride of Silence, which honors fallen cyclists. "He
was thrilled to participate in person." She said he will be honored
and memorialized at this year's event on Wednesday, May 15. The
location and other details will be announced soon and publicized by
Streetsblog.
Just two weeks ago, when I was traveling by car in a location where
year-round high winds make bicycle touring seem like a thankless
task, I thought of George Christensen, an old bike messenger
colleague of mine. I told my companion that, impressively,
Christensen had done the same route on two wheels more than 20 years
ago.
Hopefully it will be some comfort to George's loved ones to know
that his life ended while he was doing something he obviously loved.
