E-Z Biking

So I bought a bike because, you know, I look really cute riding a bike. This apparently is not acceptable information to give the bike shop staff members when you're out doing test-rides, though. Reasons like “transportation” and “exercise” and “I killed a man with my car and am not allowed to drive anymore” are all preferable rationales when it comes to joining the cycling community. But whatEVER, commuters and tree-huggers. I don't need your approval. I'll buy the heaviest bike in the store because it matches my sweater if I want, and ride it to work very very slowly with lots of breaks and cursing, and you can't stop me. I'm a “bike person” now (not to confused with being a “bike-person”, the wheeled equivalent of a centaur).

You might be surprised, upon seeing my rich, meaty legs and blood doping kit, to learn that I haven't always been a bike person. Sure, I know how to ride a bicycle, and more importantly, how to pretend your bike was stolen so your mom will drive you to school instead. But that doesn't mean I've always had a pleasant relationship with our two-wheeled friends. I did a summer work exchange to Quebec when I was in high school and rode a bike to my job at the food bank through the sweltering Victoriaville July; it was a very damp experience, probably because it turned out the tires had been flat all summer. Another year, I borrowed my brother's bike to roll down the highway to my job at a bee farm. It had an unusual braking system, by which I mean flinging yourself off of the bike into a ditch while holding your breath to avoid unnecessary pollen inhalation was the most effective way to dismount during allergy season. Additionally, among all these unpleasant experiences remains the fact that most helmets are unflattering to my face shape (a 3D octangle).

But it's a new day! Cycling is hip and happening. People are doing it on streets in your very town, and in bank commercials that are sweeping the nation. And once a week if the weather's nice and I'm not hung over, I'm doing it too, with a beautiful 200-pound white bike equipped with a hula-girl bell, an adorable basket, and almost no capability for handling hills. Luckily, there's only 10 or so blocks on my commute to work where this is a problem, and I've got a handy solution: my legs! In fact, it's so much easier to push my bike than ride it that I might just forgo the pedals all together going forward and just push my bike to work. Cycling!

BIKE OWNERSHIP TIPS

• Though my mother insisted on calling her Toyota Stanza “Odie” for most of my childhood, I've never been keen on naming the various vehicles I've driven/ruined beyond repair over the years. But now that I'm thinking about it, this lack of personification could be responsible for my carelessness on the road. Maybe if I'd anthropomorphized my cars, I would have feel less inclined to be constantly driving them into fences. So if you're following along at home, maybe now would be a good time to pick out a name for your new trusty stead. Suggestions: “Kinetically Powered Two Wheeled Transportation Device” “Miss Bikey,” or “Billy Baldwin Jr.”
• Pick a bike colour that complements your skin tone. Take several coloured scarves to the bike store and spend an afternoon finding your “season.” For example, if you're a “summer,” you probably look great on a cheery yellow bike. If you're a “winter,” go buy a toboggan instead; nobody wants you here.
• Taking a road safety course is probably a good idea. But saving that $10 registration fee for ice cream is an even better idea. After all, what are you going to remember as you're bleeding out in front of some teenager's sedan: some dumb rules about signalling, or the delicious faux chocolate topping of the last dipped cone you ever ate?
• Good bike maintenance is important to avoiding accidents, and also offers more opportunities to talk about what a cool bike person (or bike-person) you are. To make sure that you're ready for anything, have the right sized wrenches on hand, as well as an air pump, nuts and bolts, a spare seat, lube, the other kind of lube, those streamer things you can attach to the handles, Lance Armstrong's unauthorized biography Take a Lance on Me, extra-adhesive Bubble Tape, a tandem expansion kit, and most importantly, a boyfriend with a reliable car.