On being a Bicyclist

March 19, 2009

It happened to me about 3 years ago.

I know that Cars are necessary for many people to get to– their jobs, social/family events,school, roadtrips! festivals, parades, running errands,vacations, etc. I use Cars for all these things too.(www.citycarshare.com) But I have spent quite of bit of my waking hours, and still do, on researching the effect Cars have on our ecological, emotional, physical, and cultural environment. The stats are quite clear.

Cars.Are.Evil.

Mind you, I was raised by a community of avid, passionate car lovers who raced the damn things, and I adore them(rally people and Cars) to no end. I started driving when I was 8 years old. I KNOW what I am doing behind the wheel. I am not talking about whether or not my driving style suits you. I am talking about the fact that I can get into any vehicle, and be intimately aware of its outer dimensions, so I can navigate the video-game-like quality in the public world called Other Drivers. I can also parallel park any vehicle pretty well. Reverse is my best gear, actually. *grin*

But I was always too cheap, or it was too inconvenient, or what do you know, I got in a fender bender, and I had no insurance and it was my fault (Hey! I was, like 20!) so I just gave up on having a car while living in the metropolis. This tradition of not wanting to take on more fiscal responsibility carried on for a few more years, because once I moved to the Bay Area, it is relatively convenient for public transit, and parking is something that drives people into therapy here. No joke.

So I became a proud pedestrian. Back then, who cared that my knees and hips hurt, and it took 3 times the amount of time to get anywhere, I was a PEDESTRIAN. I was CONTRIBUTING. My personal, emotional sacrifice was minor compared to the ecological and cultural benefits that my statement was having on the world. It became something more than my unwillingness to shell out cash and payments and tags and maintenance. It became part of my *life*style to say No to commuting. Say No to TimeSuck. Say No to road rage, Carjacking, and donations out my left-hand window for homeless dogs’ food.

Besides, I have a VERY impressive Car sitting resume for when my friends go out of town, and I mean this quite seriously. One friend and I have an elaborate system set up for her frequent travel-she drives south at 4 am, picks me up, we drive to the airport, she doesn’t pay to park it (WHAT did I tell you earlier?) and I get a vehicle to carouse around in. Pretty sweet deal.

So about 2 years ago, a friend of mine loaned me a bike to go to burningman (www.burningman.com) I had biked around Europe and fallen in love with this form of travel–the ambling, body-driven exposed kind that seduces one into truly experiencing the environment. It’s like listening to Japanese on your way to work on a CD player with cheap headphones, versus going into a cell store having a sale on the XunChi 138 in Tokyo. You are steeped and drenched in the experience.

I asked my friend if he wanted his bike back.

He said, “Yes, soon.”

9 months went by.

It didn’t take me 9 months to fall in love, however. It only took about 2 months. I named it Trusty Steed. For it was. Bulky, built for a boy, a veritable tank on the road. ok, I exaggerate. A LITTLE.

I parked Trusty one day at the BART station and went to stay overnight at my boyfriend’s house. By the next morning, it had been promptly stolen. I sat stunned, got angry, then got sad and cried. I spent 3 solid weeks looking at every single bike that went by, and felt a terrible sense of loss and longing. I called the original owner (we had worked out a ‘permanent loan’ situation), he said it was no big deal to him. It was to me, though. I thought I had tracked it down in a flea market, but as it turned out, it wasn’t mine. Only time I’ve asked for the police. It was a helpless kind of experience, needing an intermediary to talk to another human being.

I later got to chatting with the hot dog stand guy, and he told me that the person who steals bikes at this station (which is apparently 10 or more a DAY) lives right across the street! The cops don’t do anything because, and I quote from the police here, “we can’t catch him in the act.”

*throws hands up in disgust*

I decided to move on and purchase my own bike, which is scary, because bikes can cost quite a load of cash. I did some poking around, found a hybrid for $425, got outfitted (The Bent Spoke, Oakland, CA), went back to my favorite repair shop (www.mikesbikes.com) and got accessorized up the whazoo. First thing I did when I got home? Registered my new bike, T’la.

I ride to work every day now, and all over town. I take her places. I fuss over her, I clean her, and I am an extremely mindful and alert rider.When someone gets a new bike, I give them all the praise I would if someone bought a new car. Which I also get excited about, just not as much. When I’m dating someone who bikes, it makes me RIDiculously happy. I even arranged a group bicycle ride last summer. We stopped for pizza and beer. It was awesome.

(not my bike)

So somewhere along the line, I became a bicyclist, and I feel really, really good about it. I encourage dusting yours off, getting the rust out, and taking a ride. You wouldn’t believe the simplicity, brilliance, and wonder that can be found in each day.