Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Just my bicycle and me

I've never been known for being daring and aggressive. When I was a toddler, my parents entered me with my new tricycle in the tricycle race at the company picnic of Paoli Chair Factory where my dad worked. I can't say that I remember it but evidently I was so proud of myself on my new vehicle that I thought the race was about being seen and not winning. I hear that I rode casually along with a big smile wanting everyone to see me. Some things never change.

We grew up on bikes. In the summertime it seemed like we lived on the road. I guess traffic wasn't what it is now or maybe we just didn't think about it much. No helmets. It was also in the days when we didn't wear seat belts in cars. So I suppose we've just become more safety conscious. Incidentally, I won't even go around the block without my helmet. I figure the day I do is the day I finally have the big accident.

So when I moved to New York City, first to Brooklyn, I found this great bike path that ran along the harbor out to Coney Island. I bought a cheap Huffy and loved riding. On Saturdays I would even ride all the way up to Central Park and ride the loop through it.

It didn't take long to learn the ins and outs of biking in NYC. First of all, you have to spend almost $100 on a lock that will actually prevent theft. I only learned that after three stolen bikes. Also, sometimes even a securely locked bicycle isn't safe. One day I came out of work to find that apparently an elephant had taken a seat on my bike. I later learned that the bike rack where I parked was next to a loading dock and sometimes the trucks backed up on the sidewalk.

I also learned a lot of lessons the hard way. Even if you're only going 5 mph and you're not paying attention and the cab in front of you stops, it still hurts when you hit it. A lot. The day you don't ride your bike to work is the day that there will be a blackout all over the Eastern Seaboard and you'll be walking the 12 miles home instead of riding. If it looks like it is going to rain and you decide to ride anyway, it will certainly rain. A lot. If it normally takes you 40 minutes to ride to work but the wind is blowing against you, you will be late. Cars do not pay attention and the will turn across the bike path in front of you. And you will have to make a sudden jerk to not hit them and it will hurt. A lot. And you will swear at them. A lot.

I typically don't ride much on the city streets. There is a 12 mile bike path along the Hudson River from the top of Manhattan, where I live, to the bottom of Manhattan, where I work. But on occasion, I've been known to ride down Broadway through Times Square just for the thrill. I've gone up First Avenue in rush hour traffic.

This is where being daring and aggressive comes in. I'd say daring is still not smart but I think it takes a bit of daring to ride in New York City. But it is aggressive that is important. I learned that you have to be aggressive. The cabbies can tell if you're timid. You have to take your share of the street and let them know that you know you have as much right to be there as they do.

You also have to obey the traffic laws. I learned that the hard way. One day I safely ran two red lights in a row. It took me several blocks to realize that that siren was for me. $200 and points on my driver's license later, I no longer run red lights. Most of the time.

Biking in New York City is almost always exhilarating. I love it.

One more thing I've learned. If you wear those tight biker shorts (which I do because you kind of have to when you ride as much as I do), people always look down there, men and women. It is like there eyes are drawn to see if they can see something. Did I just get vulgar? Sorry. Anyway, I try to carry an extra pair of "normal" shorts to throw on over my bike shorts but sometimes, there just isn't time.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

I am so glad your sister makes you blog! You are awesome. We make a guy at the office wear lose shorts over his "shall I share my abundance (or lack there of) with you? shorts. He calls it "covering his naughty bits."

I am counting the days until we get to NYC. Get ready to party with 2 old ladies and 1 cougar! :-)

samIam said...

Too funny. I got followed home by the police in Marengo for getting on the sidewalk once...