The retired logger already has notched 5,000 miles this year. He has ridden so many miles on his bikes that he has worn the tires through on one bike, broken spokes on another and has to swap them in and out of the shop to keep riding his 30 to 40 miles a day.

Not bad for a diabetic octogenarian with a replacement knee.

Calvin “Kayo” Smith, a Libby native, took up his daily cycling routine eight years ago after working for the J. Neils Lumber Co. for decades. He began by walking several miles after being diagnosed with diabetes until it hurt his feet. Smith then picked up a bike and very little has stopped him since.

The Rev. Terry Crooks of Libby Church of Christ, a friend and cycling buddy of Smith, said that he was floored by how many miles Smith had racked up in a short amount of time, especially for an 83-year-old.

“I said to him once, “with all these miles you could go to Florida,” Crooks said, within earshot of Smith on a ride. “He just said, “I don’t want to go to Florida.”

That is a typical response from Smith, who goes by the nickname Kayo and says few people know his first name is Calvin.

Smith keeps a constant routine as a way to keep his mileage and his health up, and Florida doesn’t fit into that.

He rises early, rides a warm up few miles before meeting a friend for coffee (and cookies, if he’s lucky). He then meets up with whomever wants to ride with him out by his home near Granite Creek. Crooks normally tries to go with Smith, but the winter months keep him inside. Not Smith. Only in the most inclement weather does Kayo stay inside, and even then he’s not happy about it.

He then rides three laps of a route he has drawn out near his home, totaling just more than 12 miles. Then it is time for the tour of the town, and he heads into Libby.

“I haven’t driven my car in months,” he said with a grin.

Biking keeps Smith busy, particularly after being diagnosed with diabetes, his knee replacement and the death of his wife several years ago.

It also gives him the open feel that he got years ago when he rode the roads of the West on his Indian motorcycle, spending time logging on the Oregon coast.

Smith recalls spending time in Portland, Ore., as a youth in the great Depression. He got into trouble with his brother in an auto showroom after they messed up several cars.

“I hated that city,” Smith said.

It’s hard to tell when he’s kidding, possibly the old logger in him, as intractable and hard as the trees around which he used to place the choker.

Smith doesn’t pedal quickly, but he always gets where he needs to be, and he’ll be celebrating his 84th birthday Sept. 1 by tacking on more miles.