Commuter's Corner #2: My First Time
For everyone who has done it, we remember our first time… to commute by bike.
If however you have not yet done it, allow me to share my first time. I was living in Austin, Texas while attending graduate school. I lived near campus in a little apartment with storage for a bike. It was perfect! A short distance, bike storage, what more could one want?
I had a mountain bike, because, well, in the 1990s, everybody I knew had mountain bikes. It even had shifters, and gears! On the weekends, I practiced in order to figure out how to shift. It also had hand levers for brakes! I kept confusing them with the shifters. All that stuff on the handlebars, it took a while to figure out.
I picked the day for the first commute: the end of the week before the semester was to start. I laid out my cotton shirt and baggy shorts, the perfect clothes for commuting. I packed my backpack with the books and notebooks and bag lunch I’d need. I was ready.
Morning dawned bright and sunny. I ate my breakfast of Pop Tarts and Tang. I donned my action clothes and grabbed my backpack. I wheeled out the bike from the storage. Smiling and excited, I set out.
Oh, wait. Forgot my helmet. Back to the apartment, back up the stairs, dang where is it? Oh, yeah! In the closet! Down the stairs, back to the bike, down the alley toward the neighborhood street.
Yikes, my front tire was pretty soft! Actually the back one, too. And… where’s the air pump? Oh, right, it was too big to fit into the backpack. Back up the alley, back up the stairs, dang, where is it? Wait, now I remember! Behind the bathroom trash can! Back down the stairs, to the bike, air up the tires, back up the stairs, leave the pump by the door, down the stairs, to the bike, and down the alley again.
Out I ventured onto the neighborhood street. At the first stop sign, the brakes squealed and YIKES, SQUEEZE HARD they didn’t work so well. I forgot to downshift, so starting back up was… slow. Then I tried downshifting but the chain jumped between gears. A car approached. Sweat ran down my back. Flailing, the chain finally caught a cog, and off I went, in a panic, while the car went around. The driver was laughing.
Another stop, this time without panic braking and with a downshift. While waiting for the light, I re-checked my handlebar shifters to remind myself which one to move first, and which way. Another start. More sloppy shifting. Stupid shifter. Finally I reached campus. There were bike racks, everywhere. Uh-oh… did I… oh, BLEEP, where’s the BIKE LOCK? Then it dawned on me: even if I had brought the lock, I left the keys in the little bike lock box! I dropped my backpack on the ground, disgusted. The books crushed my bag lunch. Stupid books. Stupid bag lunch. Then I noticed by the light morning breeze that my back was covered with sweat. Stupid cotton shirt. Stupid backpack.
I pedaled back home. By then the pit in my stomach dropped out. Stupid Pop Tarts. Stupid brakes. Stupid shifters! STUPID STOP SIGN! By then I was getting thirsty. A cold, orangey gulp of Tang sounded better and better. Back up the stairs, grab the bike lock (sitting on the couch) and the keys (still in their little box, tossed into the kitchen trash can), quick swig of leftover Tang, spoon the orangey glop out of the bottom of the cup, back down the stairs…
Back to campus. By then I was sweating like a frozen soft drink can in the Texas sun. My office mate asked with concern, “What happened to you?” I summoned the tatters of my remaining dignity and replied, “I biked to campus.” They laughed, “Are you serious?”
The next day was worse. By then I was sore, and it was hotter so I sweated more. Other students gathered to ask if I was okay. One thing was better: I had brought a change of clothes!
In the weeks that followed, I began to make adjustments: backpack gone, commuter bag instead; water bottle (in a bottle cage! They make bottle cages!); from knobby tires to commuter tires; adjustments to the shifters (shifter have FINE adjustment, y’know?). No more Pop Tarts or Tang!
The questions changed. “Why do you keep your office clothes in a pile in your desk drawer?” “What are those funny shorts for?” My all-time favorite: “How do you do it?”
NO FRIENDS, YOU’RE NOT ALONE! Anybody can do it! Ask a commuter and learn! We can all learn more! See you out on the road…