11 Truths of Bike Commuting

Many of you know that JZ and I live a bike-centric lifestyle, relying on two wheels and pedals for transport to work, daycare, and the grocery store. We appreciate this phase of life, living an urban lifestyle with a slower pace of travel. After all, bike commuting is a great source of exercise, Vitamin D, and exasperation.

Before we regularly commuted by bike, JZ and I falsely believed our experience road riding, cycling around parks and greenways, and weekend rides would seamlessly translate to commuting. Our experience road cycling consisted of playfully passing and being passed by other roadies (at least, we considered it playful), pausing to ask if the cyclist swapping her tire swap roadside needed assistance, and passionately arguing about ideal routes down country backroads. On green trails we stopped to chat with families about our unusual longtail bike, honked the clown horn mischievously at children, and generally enjoyed the casual ride. With these pleasant, conversational experiences, we idyllically envisioned commuting as a pack of riders coasting down the center of a road singing “Bicycle Races” by Queen, while wearing suits.

But bike commuting is much more complex and multifaceted. You battle against cars, buses, pedestrians, and even other cyclists just to make into the office. As much as we advocate car-free living, we thought it fair to put out a little warning of sorts, all bike commuters should be able to relate to at 3 of these.

11 Things All Bike Commuters Know are True

#1 Well known benefit of riding to work: exercise.

Less known detriment: daily excuse to indulge in the office snacks.

We all have walked by the cookie/candy jar and thought, “Yum, cookies, well I biked for 20 minutes into the office, plus I was carrying CZ, AND my work bag. I deserve a treat for my efforts. Deprivation is not going to motivate me!”

…but we neglected the math

#2 JZ and I thrive on our morning bike commutes into the city with CZ. We love an excuse to be outside, challenge our lungs, and torture our child.  As all parents experience, there are moments when children decide to fight for their life against any restraint system: carseat, stroller, or bike seat.

The downside for you, the bike commuter, is that on those days, you can not roll up the windows, turn up the music, and smile serenely at those next to you. Instead, you attempt to ignore her unabashedly tortured screams, while pedestrians stare with judgement and wonder aloud why you force your child on the bike when she so clearly abhors it.

#3 As a naive young cyclist, I thought there would be a sense of camaraderie between those of us utilizing the bike lane. We obviously all have a shared passion for cycling, so it would make sense to acknowledge the person pulling up next to or behind you. However, as in all things, there are cycling cliques.

The lycra brigade are more keen to battle it out amongst the cars than ride in the bike lane because you are just too dang slow. The fashionable hipsters abhor anything without a custom paint job, more than one gear, and a coffee cup holder, because, practicality meets style on the bike. And the casual cyclists are too engaged in mental biscuit math to say hello.

#4 One calm morning, you are cruising down your favourite big hill, loudly singing “I WANT TO RIDE MY BICYCLE” in your head, of course, and then out of nowhere, a speedy, lithe, neon, bird whooshes past scaring the crap out of you. But when you uncross your hands from over your head, you can see that instead of a bird, a lycra cyclist just whizzed by without warning. This incidence haunts you the rest of the ride. You repeatedly jump at sudden noises and suspiciously look over your shoulder, as you softly murmur, “I want to ride my bicycle…[freeze and look behind yourself]…I want to ride it where I like”

#5 Unconscious pedestrian behaviors: running across the street when it looks clear (aka no cars), stopping in a shared path to answer a text, or nonchalantly walking in the bike lane for no apparent reason, become the bane of your existence.

Yes, you were once a pedestrian too, but now a veil has been lifted and you can only see their thoughtlessness, self-absorption and plain rude behavior. Even though they are always going to be slower than you, they will situate themselves directly in front of your bike at crosswalks. Pedestrians refuse to walk in a straight line, and instead, zigzag their way down shared paths. They “make a break for it” running across the street, when you are barrelling down the hill with a green light. And my personal pet peeve: stroll in the obviously marked, bright green, bike lanes.

Let’s just say it, pedestrians are the worst.

#6 You know the person who regularly brings salmon for lunch and stinks up the office kitchen using the microwave?

Yes, you say it’s fine when he asks. I mean, you like salmon too.

But seriously? This is a shared kitchen!

We are trapped in an office with floor-to-ceiling windows, and they are all sealed shut. There is no escape for you or the salmon fumes.

Whenever anyone asks, “Wait, who’s George?” the standard reply is “…you know that guy…well, his lunch” “Oh yeah, The Stinky Salmon Guy,” and everyone wonders if the assertive, slightly bossy, manager will ever tell him what they are too polite to say. Maybe then, he will stop ruining the office air quality.

The same applies to the bike commuter, heading up to the office each morning. Right now he’s dewed with a slight sheen that turns into a more than slight musk by noon. He keeps his suit jacket buttoned to try containing the aroma, but it still escapes out the sides. His pungency wafts with him throughout the office, and people avoid meeting at his desk where the fumes have been able to concentrate all day.

When you bike, deodorant in the office is a necessity. Be proactive and avoid being the Stinky B.O. Guy.

#7 As an occasional pedestrian myself, I relate to the heart stopping confusion of a bike flying past as you innocently walk down the park pathway (alternately, see #4).  You feel the bike pass you before you see it, and frantically grab your child, dog or loved one out of the path of the torpedo on wheels.

As a cyclist, I generally opt for an over-ringing bell strategy to combat these situations. Ringing your bell is a polite warning for all those you pass. Your bell is the civil, but firm, counterpart to a horn, both of which have their place on shared paths.

Your bell says, “just going to pass you in a second or two, please do not randomly fling out your arm or abruptly stop to catch a pikachu.” You horn channels Ludacris as it shouts, “move, b*tch, get out the way, get out the way.”

Sometimes you need a horn.

#8 Eyewear is crucial on bikes, for protection from flying road debris as much as from the sun. However, during the warm months, when the majority of your riding takes place in the daylight, you will slowly but surely build up a permanent raccoon face. You can try and delay the inevitable: putting extra sunscreen around your eyes to lessen the spray tan vibe, or extreme measures like taking off your sunglasses at stoplights.

However, nothing will work in the end. Just wait until winter and it will slowly fade.

#9 You can avoid being the Stinky Guy, but you will always have helmet hair.

#10 We all want to be the fun parent. The impulsive one who buys ice cream on a Tuesday afternoon, and randomly stops at the park for 20 minutes on the way home from work.

However, once you acquiesce once to the requests, you will forever be bombarded with the cry of “swingswingswginswginswing” as you ride through a park (twice a day on our route)

Being the fun one is cool when you get out of work early and it’s nice outside, but it is a slippery slope to becoming the “No” parent when, 9 days out of 10, you tell your child, “We are not stopping today.”

#11 It’s a normal ride into the office. You donned your cargo shorts, t-shirt, and sunglasses with a suit in your bike bags to change at the office. You pull up to a stoplight and see someone familiar, oh, one of the execs in your group. You hope your sunglasses sufficiently hide your face, but she spots you anyways.

“Hi John!”

“Ah, Hi, Maria”

“You look…sporty…you off today?” she inquires

“Am I off? oh, mmm…yes, my clothes…I have bring suit… I mean, I change”. The stoplight turns green and you abruptly pedal away.

Share this with someone who understands!