My Cycling Mantra

I ride my bike a lot. It's my main mode of transportation. Some people have cars, trucks, magical capes...I have a bicycle. Equally awesome as the cape.

It's a 2011 Marin Olema, white, with fenders and a bike rack. It's a hybrid, so not nearly as heavy as a mountain bike, but a bit heavier than a road bike. I have not yet named it. (A fact that has caused multiple friends of mine great distress)

This is my bike. I really, really like it.

I love riding it. I really do. I had been riding my brother's mountain bike in Auburn, kind of as a commuter, and I'm glad I don't have to do that anymore, because hauling that thing up Lea Hill was a PAIN. And it was too tall.

The roads in Sacramento are surprisingly bike friendly, and it's super great because it's so flat. Really, very flat. The only incline is an overpass. I'm not sure what will happen when I visit Auburn again and try to ride up my beloved Lea Hill, but maybe because of the fact that I'm riding every day, I might not have too hard of a time.

I am riding every day, except Sunday. This past week was the start of City Year Sacramento (more to come on that later, I promise!) and every day we've met at a different site, pretty much all over South Sacramento. It's great because every night before I sleep I get to stare at something from Google maps and try not to panic. I haven't been late yet, and I've only gotten super lost on the way home, so that's good.

We met on Monday at Shasta Park, about 10 miles away from where I'm living now. I got a ride there, with my bike in the back of the truck, because I didn't know how to get there or how long it would take me, but I was to ride my bike home that afternoon. Being the middle of a Sacramento Summer, it was rather uncomfortably warm when I left. And I rode for 3.5 miles in the wrong direction before I figured it out. I ran out of water, still didn't know where I was, so I stopped, chained my bike to a railing, and found myself in front of a frozen yogurt place.

Now, kind of a side note, but Yogurtland had become 'The Place' to hang out, back in Auburn, and my friends would take at least a biweekly trip there. So I was familiar with the cold, sweet treat that was offered within and decided it was worth the 49 cents an ounce.

Thoroughly refreshed and less frustrated, I left, with new instructions from the nice boy behind the counter. Turn right, ride for three years, turn left, two more years, and maybe you'll make it home if you don't get hit by a truck.

I rode until I was pretty sure I only had 10 more minutes of travel to go, when I got ridiculously dizzy and practically fell. Onto train tracks.

I took a half hour nap on the side of the road.

Ok, I was only half sleeping, and I had my feet on my bike so I would know if it was moved, and it wasn't the side of the road really, it was a grassy place between the road and a parking lot. And the half hour also included a twenty minute conversation with my best friend, who was still back home in Auburn. She got a kick out of the froyo.

That was Monday. Tuesday was just a 45 minute jaunt down a busy street, and Wednesday was a bit longer, but only an hour trip. Thursday and Friday were at an elementary school that was supposed to only be a 50 minute bike ride, but I passed the hour mark because I didn't want to take the route google told me too. I would rather go NW on one road and then SW on another than to turn 17 times.

There are a lot of bike lanes in Sac City. Unfortunately, they are a terror to ride on because it seems like everyone pulls over to punch out their windows, and would rather stick their yard debris and trash cans in the road than on their sidewalks or driveway.

I would rather ride in traffic, because people do see you, and they usually won't hit you. I've been cursed at once, but that was because I forgot to signal turning right. I'm sorry, but I was turning right, and there weren't any other cars. :P

I've been laughed at a few times, usually right after I fall off of my bike. Which has happened more often than I thought it would, but I blame it on having a very off balance bag on my right side. And my inability to stand on a flat, stable surface without falling over.

There are lots of trucks though. That's kind of a terrifying part. Not just dodge pickups, but actual semi trucks, with single or double trailers, and oversize warning signs that cyclists can't see until the truck is passed them.

Which brings me to another part.

I looked up some cycling laws for California, and was ordered to 'ride in the middle of the lane to discourage passing with inadequate room'. Um...I'd rather ride on the side of the road and pray they have enough room than ride in the middle and have them drive three feet behind me leaning on their horns.

I often find myself repeating over and over: “Please don't hit me, please don't hit me. I'm trying to serve your community so you need me alive! Please don't...” That's my mantra. It starts as I'm leaving my house “I'm feeling gooooood, and I'm riding my biiiiike, and I'm haaaappy...” and morphs in to “Just keep pedaling, just keep pedaling, just keep...” as the day goes on and I get more exhausted.

Enough complaining. I apologize. For the most part, I have really loved riding my bike around. I have a cute light for when I start riding in the dark, and a reflective vest. I also have a Kryptonite lock (link here) that weighs a ton but gives me complete confidence leaving my bike chained up for long periods of time. I wear my helmet wherever I go (via bike, not just wandering around with it, although some people do that, and that's good for them. Go Safety!) even though it's not the law here.

The ridiculously heavy lock combo.
 No, you will not be stealing my bike today, sir!
Nor will you be walking off with my wheels.

I've also mastered the transportationalist's stationary wave. No, that's not it's real title, and no, it's not even a word. But I digress. You know that awkward “Thanks for not hitting me even though I just accidentally cut you off” wave? Well, it applies to cyclists as well. In this situation it means 'thank you for waiting patiently as I got out of your way before you rush by me/sorry for not paying attention/thanks for not hitting me.'

As you can see, the wave is quite versatile and handy for cyclists.

Now, I'm going to stop trying to think of things to write about cycling because I just received a call from my Branch President. Guess who's speaking in Church next week? Yup. It's me. 15 minutes of me time.

My ring and pinkie fingers on my right hand are permanently numb. I'm kind of freaking out about this.

Will bike gloves help? What type?