The Greek Orthodox Monk Cruising Through Chicago in a Velomobile

A Greek Orthodox monk is cruising through Chicago in a velomobile, a pedal-powered contraption, that looks like a giant green-and-yellow popsicle on wheels.

The sight of Father Ephraim on his recumbent bicycle with a full enclosure, streaking down a bustling Chicago street has heads turning, perhaps expecting a lycra-clad cyclist, but instead a priest with a full-length black cassock and a hand-carved wooden cross dangling from his neck appears.

The contrast of the traditional priest and the green-and-yellow velomobile is inherently funny and unexpected.

Ephraim, 53, who moved to the Northwest Side from a remote community in Alaska last year, says he’s no fan of cars, never owned one. So, not long after arriving in Chicago, wanting to be healthy physically as well as spiritually, he ordered a velomobile from Romania.

“You can’t imagine the expressions on people’s face when they see this because it’s such an outlandish thing to see on the roads,” Ephraim, told the Chicago Sun Times.

Greek Orthodox Monk in Chicago studied mechanical engineering at MIT

Ephraim is from Boston and has a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering from MIT. “It makes commuting or just doing errands extremely enjoyable. The reaction of children is perhaps the most precious.”

Ephraim is a priest at Saints Athanasios and John Greek Orthodox Church in Old Irving Park. And when he’s out running errands, people will sometimes spot the streamlined tricycle in traffic and wonder whether there’s anyone inside. Some think it’s a drone. The police have stopped him twice, he says, to see if it’s a motorized vehicle, which would require a license plate.

“As soon as I tell them there is no motor, they say, ‘Oh, OK, then just be careful,’ ” Ephraim told the Chicago paper.

This is a velomobile. And the man behind the wheel is Greek Orthodox monk Father Ephraim, who moved to the Northwest Side after five years at a religious commune in remote Alaska.

Who wouldn’t want to navigate Chicago streets in a vehicle not much taller than a fire hydrant? pic.twitter.com/WlxdKROmXu

— Chicago Sun-Times (@Suntimes) April 5, 2024

He’s accustomed to drivers, pedestrians and other cyclists peppering him with questions. They’ll notice his eyes staring back at them through the narrow plexiglass windshield. If they’re persistent and polite, he’ll open the hood, unfold his 5-foot-9-inch frame and step out.

In Alaska, Ephraim says he’d paddle five miles by kayak from the convent on the 50-acre St. Nilus Island to the much larger Kodiak Island.

“I was actually able to go right up to a group of finback whales and reach out and touch one of them,” he says.

“Even though there is no heating in it, you generate so much heat just by pedaling, you have to keep the vents open to keep the fresh air coming to keep you cool,” he told the Chicago Sun Times.

His machine isn’t for everyone, he says. When you’re inside its carbon-fiber shell, with only a tiny window to see out, he says it’s like you’re inside a tiny submarine.

Ephraim says he’s ridden it as far as Wisconsin and back, hitting a top speed of 37 miles an hour on Green Bay Road. “Of course, it took me 2 1/2 hours to get there,” he says.

He’s never been in an accident, but, because he’s so low to the ground, he says he has to stay vigilant for drivers who might not spot him.

One of them, Mary Paganis, says when he got to her home for lunch and she saw the vehicle for the first time, she told him: “What in the world is that?”

But Ephraim says most of his congregants don’t view the orthodox priest’s choice of transportation as particularly … unorthodox. And he wouldn’t mind if they did.

“It is important to take into consideration what people think of you…but not to be enslaved to that,” told the Chicago Sun Times.