“It’s like riding a bike”
It’s a phrase used so much and I’m sure I’ve said it plenty of times to other people too. “You never forget, it’s just like riding a bike!” Yet, the truth is, I haven’t ridden a bike in more than 20 years. I learned how to ride a kids size bike - without the stabilizers! - but I never figured out how to ride anything bigger. I had a peach coloured mini-bike, and my older sister had a big blue bike and every now and then I’d look at hers and think… “one day.” I used to call hers a mountain bike, but in reality it was probably just a regular sized bike that felt really huge to me. That bike was given away before I ever got the chance to muster up the courage to ride it, and with it went my willingness to hop on a bike, fall on my face, dust myself off and do it again.
I’ve wanted to ride a bike in so many places in my travels… I would have loved to ride in the mountains of Maui, or through the villages of Oaxaca, or exploring Jaffna in the same way that my parents did when they grew up there. There was one time I was in a small town called Yamanakako in Japan. It was getting dark and there were no street lights. I had to walk 45 minutes to a local 7/11 to get food, but by the time I was heading back it would have been pitch black. I had no choice - there were bikes available at the ryokan, and I had to ride one. I eyed it up from every angle, went back to my room so that I could pace around and think about it some more, went back outside and assessed the situation again. I hopped on, put my right foot on the pedal, pushed and immediately fell. Not in the casual, “just get back on your bike” fall - but the dramatic, slow-motion, “I’m falling and the ground is nowhere near me” fall. I ditched the bike, tried to walk, got freaked out when I heard a group of male voices laughing in the dark and quickly went back to the ryokan. Japanese people are the most hospitable people I’ve ever met - the owner of the ryokan put a “Be right back” message on the table and she drove me to the 7/11 and back again.
Today, I was in Manhattan and a friend of mine spontaneously took me to Brompton Bikes. I warned him and the sales assistant that I haven’t ridden a bike in over 20 years. The sales assistant gave me a bike, took my bags and told me to take it out for a spin. Joke’s on him, I thought, because I’m just going to walk this thing down the road like it’s a puppy and bring it right back. We went round the corner and I got on, but I was lost in my head. My friend kept telling me to just pedal. I tried, and fell. A total stranger on the street got involved and said, “Relax, sit back, don’t stress yourself, you got this.” Both of them stood to the side and waited as I got back on, and pushed the pedal. Before I knew it, I was that kid screaming, “Watch me go!!!! Do you see me?!! Look at me go!!!!!” Total stranger and my friend both applauded with pride. I spent the next 15 minutes riding up and down that street - shakily, but doing the thing and continuously yelling, “yaaaaaay!” - and it felt like being a kid all over again. And this time, I got to do it in Manhattan, which was pretty cool.
Moral of the story - find the joy. Be spontaneous. Ride a bike. And… find a bike that actually fits you. If you’re petite, don’t listen to the millions of people who say, “it’s easy, you just have to lean to the side when you brake!” That’s not a thing when the ground is so far away. I feel your pain. But don’t despair - there are options. We, too, can feel like the cool city bikers if we choose.
