Started with pink, ended up with black
I grew up on two wheels. My small town was miles from everything, and all the kids in the neighborhood rode bikes. I don't remember a time in my childhood when I was without my bike. When I was a little kid, I used to ride through the woods and over the "jumps." That's what we called them in Gardiner, NY. There was this big empty patch of land that was basically piles of dirt (today, it's a pizza place/video store/parking lot). To a kid, that is heaven. We had all kinds of bike paths in those piles of dirt, and even though I was always the only girl with a gang of boys (hick boys, I might add) I was never excused from jumping over our highest "cliff" and trying to pop wheelies on my pink huffy with the banana seat. I rode people around on my handlebars without hesitation.
As I got a bit older, I would often ride my bike the 7-8 miles down the old rail trail into New Paltz. I never let terrain stop me from going where I wanted to go. I remember half-carrying, half-riding my bike down this ridiculous hill in the woods, covered in rocks and thorns, but goddammit I wanted to get to the other side of the road and I couldn't find any other way of doing it.
When I went to college, a lot of people knew me as That Girl On The Bike With The Hair. There weren't a whole lot of people at my university that used their bikes to get around, which always confused me. You could get to places faster on a bike. I could sleep an extra 10 minutes because I rode my bike. Who wouldn't want to do that? the "with the hair" part came because I did wild things like dye my hair bright colors and, for a brief period, did the liberty spikes thing.
After college I spent almost a year not riding very often. I lived in the suburbs, everyone drove everywhere, and when I did ride my bike to get to places it was a hassle to find somewhere to lock it up. But when I moved to Philadelphia in 2003, I was determined to get back into it.
I was scared! I had never ridden a bike in a city before. I could handle the woods and dirt and old train tracks for bike paths... but riding in between busses, cabs, pedestrians, and cars? I remember my first ride in Philly - both of my tires were really low on air, so I was going absurdly slow. Still, a cab ran a stop sign and hit me. It wasn't the best introduction to city biking, to say the least. Because I was moving very slow, there was almost no damage at all (he hit my back tire), but after recovering from the shock I cursed out the driver - who in turn cursed ME out, explaining that it was my fault he ran a stop sign and hit me. The older couple in the backseat of the cab looked absolutely terrified at our argument, but I knew what was happening - I was developing a very necessary city attitude about biking.
Since then, I haven't been hit. I've ridden the streets of Philadelphia at all hours of the day - in the pouring rain, 110 degree days, the middle of the winter (I still hate riding when it's really cold out), etc. On my bike, I was never afraid to take a wrong turn and end up in a neighborhood where I didn't really belong. I felt like I owned the city, always able to quickly get away if someone said something. I once filed a police report against the driver of an SUV who tried to run me off the road (nothing happened, of course). Another time I stopped a guy from stealing my roommate's bike at about 3am outside our apartment. I had two bike seats stolen in the two years I lived there, and then I got myself a seat lock and have been fine ever since.
I moved to Paris in March 2005, but it was awhile before I got myself a bike. The bike I ended up purchasing for 50 Euros was totally unlike my US bike (a cheap hybrid). In Paris, I rode a heavy, old, thick-tired road bike. It had a little bell and a basket and a really big seat. I never really got the hang of that thing. The gears didn't work, the brakes were useless, and I never really felt like I had control of it. I did take it out for rides and used it to get around, but I never really loved it (though I really wanted to). There were two times I traveled in Europe and rented a bike - once at Belle Ile en Mer, a beautiful island off the west coast of France. That bike was the bike of my dreams - brakes, gears, hybrid tires - perfect for riding around the island. Because I was on a bike, I could veer off onto paths that weren't meant for cars. Sometimes I would come across a beach, sometimes a hiking trail. I spent an entire day discovering that island on two wheels, and I never had to bother trying to find a place to lock it - no one locked their bikes. That took a lot of getting used to... the bike rental place provided me with a lock that was so flimsy, I could have cut it in half with a pair of dull scissors.
I went to Amsterdam three times while I lived in Paris. The first time I was there, I was with two non-bike-people, and since the three of us were traveling together I didn't feel right about going off on my own to ride. The second time I was there, same thing - the person I was traveling with wasn't interested in biking. Don't get me wrong, in both situations my friends would have been totally fine with me saying "see you, I'm going to bike," but in both situations, I wanted to hang out with my friends. So I walked.
The third time, I was by myself. I finally had to learn my way around (if I'm with other people who take charge of maps and finding things, I tend to not pay attention at all), and I finally got myself on a bike. It was wonderful. Everyone yields to bikes there, and everyone bikes. No matter how old, well-dressed, or young, everyone there bikes. I was in heaven. My rental bike was similar to my Paris bike - big, heavy, with thick tires and a basket - but the brakes worked, which was all I really needed. I never got to take it out of the city on a proper 20-30 km ride, but I rode around parks and neighborhoods that I never saw in my previous trips.
And now, New York City. Again, I was intimidated to ride in NYC. You don't find more aggressive people anywhere in the states. But back on my old bike, I felt good. I forced myself to ride through areas that I thought would be challenging (ie: Chinatown, Harlem), and tried to stay calm as I rode over the Williamsburg Bridge for the first time (to be so high above water, with traffic moving at 60 mph to my left and nothing to my right... scary!). After a couple weeks, the city was mine.
So this weekend, when I went to Philadelphia, I wanted to bring my bike. I rode from my office to the Chinatown bus on Friday afternoon and for $10, me and my bike arrived in Philadelphia about 2 hours later. I got drunk at a show on Friday night and rode through unfamiliar streets in Fishtown (biking at 2am in Philly is one of my favorite pastimes) to get to a friends house when the night was over. I took my bike on subways and buses, carrying it up and down huge flights of stairs and over hoisting it over turn styles just so I didn't have to give up a weekend of riding. I did a lot of Philly biking, but I also did a really enjoyable suburban ride around a lake in south Jersey, and tonight I spent over an hour biking through Brooklyn.
Am I the best cyclist in the world? Hardly. I'm not that fast and I hate wearing a helmet. I'm not the biggest fan of hills, though I'm getting better. I only have one pair of "real" bike shorts, and I haven't worn them in years. My bike is rusted, the seat has this sticky thing on it that won't go away, and I've never changed out the tires or tubes.
The happiness I feel when I'm on my bike - even when I'm lost in Brooklyn on a Sunday night and still carrying around all my bags from the weekend - I can't compare this feeling to anything else. I just feel right. I don't really know if I'm cut out to ride my bike around the world, but I'm always going to own one.
As I got a bit older, I would often ride my bike the 7-8 miles down the old rail trail into New Paltz. I never let terrain stop me from going where I wanted to go. I remember half-carrying, half-riding my bike down this ridiculous hill in the woods, covered in rocks and thorns, but goddammit I wanted to get to the other side of the road and I couldn't find any other way of doing it.
When I went to college, a lot of people knew me as That Girl On The Bike With The Hair. There weren't a whole lot of people at my university that used their bikes to get around, which always confused me. You could get to places faster on a bike. I could sleep an extra 10 minutes because I rode my bike. Who wouldn't want to do that? the "with the hair" part came because I did wild things like dye my hair bright colors and, for a brief period, did the liberty spikes thing.
After college I spent almost a year not riding very often. I lived in the suburbs, everyone drove everywhere, and when I did ride my bike to get to places it was a hassle to find somewhere to lock it up. But when I moved to Philadelphia in 2003, I was determined to get back into it.
I was scared! I had never ridden a bike in a city before. I could handle the woods and dirt and old train tracks for bike paths... but riding in between busses, cabs, pedestrians, and cars? I remember my first ride in Philly - both of my tires were really low on air, so I was going absurdly slow. Still, a cab ran a stop sign and hit me. It wasn't the best introduction to city biking, to say the least. Because I was moving very slow, there was almost no damage at all (he hit my back tire), but after recovering from the shock I cursed out the driver - who in turn cursed ME out, explaining that it was my fault he ran a stop sign and hit me. The older couple in the backseat of the cab looked absolutely terrified at our argument, but I knew what was happening - I was developing a very necessary city attitude about biking.
Since then, I haven't been hit. I've ridden the streets of Philadelphia at all hours of the day - in the pouring rain, 110 degree days, the middle of the winter (I still hate riding when it's really cold out), etc. On my bike, I was never afraid to take a wrong turn and end up in a neighborhood where I didn't really belong. I felt like I owned the city, always able to quickly get away if someone said something. I once filed a police report against the driver of an SUV who tried to run me off the road (nothing happened, of course). Another time I stopped a guy from stealing my roommate's bike at about 3am outside our apartment. I had two bike seats stolen in the two years I lived there, and then I got myself a seat lock and have been fine ever since.
I moved to Paris in March 2005, but it was awhile before I got myself a bike. The bike I ended up purchasing for 50 Euros was totally unlike my US bike (a cheap hybrid). In Paris, I rode a heavy, old, thick-tired road bike. It had a little bell and a basket and a really big seat. I never really got the hang of that thing. The gears didn't work, the brakes were useless, and I never really felt like I had control of it. I did take it out for rides and used it to get around, but I never really loved it (though I really wanted to). There were two times I traveled in Europe and rented a bike - once at Belle Ile en Mer, a beautiful island off the west coast of France. That bike was the bike of my dreams - brakes, gears, hybrid tires - perfect for riding around the island. Because I was on a bike, I could veer off onto paths that weren't meant for cars. Sometimes I would come across a beach, sometimes a hiking trail. I spent an entire day discovering that island on two wheels, and I never had to bother trying to find a place to lock it - no one locked their bikes. That took a lot of getting used to... the bike rental place provided me with a lock that was so flimsy, I could have cut it in half with a pair of dull scissors.
I went to Amsterdam three times while I lived in Paris. The first time I was there, I was with two non-bike-people, and since the three of us were traveling together I didn't feel right about going off on my own to ride. The second time I was there, same thing - the person I was traveling with wasn't interested in biking. Don't get me wrong, in both situations my friends would have been totally fine with me saying "see you, I'm going to bike," but in both situations, I wanted to hang out with my friends. So I walked.
The third time, I was by myself. I finally had to learn my way around (if I'm with other people who take charge of maps and finding things, I tend to not pay attention at all), and I finally got myself on a bike. It was wonderful. Everyone yields to bikes there, and everyone bikes. No matter how old, well-dressed, or young, everyone there bikes. I was in heaven. My rental bike was similar to my Paris bike - big, heavy, with thick tires and a basket - but the brakes worked, which was all I really needed. I never got to take it out of the city on a proper 20-30 km ride, but I rode around parks and neighborhoods that I never saw in my previous trips.
And now, New York City. Again, I was intimidated to ride in NYC. You don't find more aggressive people anywhere in the states. But back on my old bike, I felt good. I forced myself to ride through areas that I thought would be challenging (ie: Chinatown, Harlem), and tried to stay calm as I rode over the Williamsburg Bridge for the first time (to be so high above water, with traffic moving at 60 mph to my left and nothing to my right... scary!). After a couple weeks, the city was mine.
So this weekend, when I went to Philadelphia, I wanted to bring my bike. I rode from my office to the Chinatown bus on Friday afternoon and for $10, me and my bike arrived in Philadelphia about 2 hours later. I got drunk at a show on Friday night and rode through unfamiliar streets in Fishtown (biking at 2am in Philly is one of my favorite pastimes) to get to a friends house when the night was over. I took my bike on subways and buses, carrying it up and down huge flights of stairs and over hoisting it over turn styles just so I didn't have to give up a weekend of riding. I did a lot of Philly biking, but I also did a really enjoyable suburban ride around a lake in south Jersey, and tonight I spent over an hour biking through Brooklyn.
Am I the best cyclist in the world? Hardly. I'm not that fast and I hate wearing a helmet. I'm not the biggest fan of hills, though I'm getting better. I only have one pair of "real" bike shorts, and I haven't worn them in years. My bike is rusted, the seat has this sticky thing on it that won't go away, and I've never changed out the tires or tubes.
The happiness I feel when I'm on my bike - even when I'm lost in Brooklyn on a Sunday night and still carrying around all my bags from the weekend - I can't compare this feeling to anything else. I just feel right. I don't really know if I'm cut out to ride my bike around the world, but I'm always going to own one.