This past weekend, I almost died of shock seeing people in Los Angeles on bikes.  I am always telling my friends that they should ride their bikes, no matter what city they are in, and now witnessing people in the most car-centric city in the world using bikes for transport, I really feel like people have no excuse.  On a side note — California keeps getting more and more ridiculous.  I saw nail polish on a dog in Orange County.  This is why I love it down there, it is like a whole different bizarre world where everyone seems to be auditioning for reality TV.

How did I become a dedicated bike rider?  Someone who rides consistently everyday to work and back, to yoga and the store, to movies and to get pedicures?  It was a long process.  Seattle is a hilly city, more of a car town and maybe Vespa, but not really meant for bikes.  I have always been interested in riding a bike, but in a silly way, like to ride around a park and then sit for a picnic.  But slowly, with the emergence of the bike-sharing all over Europe, I started riding bikes as a form of transport.  Suddenly I became an unexpected eco-tourist, riding a bike in Luxembourg, London, Paris, and even in Brussels.

Riding in Paris -- a little scary, but lots of fun

When we were in London, Pedram’s friend took us on a bike tour, and told us about their plans to bike from London to Shanghai.  I told them I thought they were crazy, but I’d fly to Shanghai and greet them there with dim sum.  But Pedram had a different reaction, he was bit by the biking bug, and promptly went and bought himself a new bike.  I bought him a neon vest and a helmet, and told him not to get killed.  But when my friend Mina was moving to Chad and was willing to give someone her banged up flat wheeled bike*, I told her I’d take it, figuring I’d probably never fix it and would just keep an eye on it as it collected dust until she returned.  But one day I came home, and voila!, Pedram had taken it to the nearby bike shop, fixed it all up, and even got me my own lock.  We started taking little bike rides, mostly out to the nearby parks in Brussels.  I was terrified biking in the city — there were no bike lanes, and cars could care less about respecting space.  I once got stuck in the tram tracks, which is the worst thing EVER.  Drivers (and bikers and pedestrians) were aggressive and fast, and I never rode my bike anywhere without Pedram nearby.

My commute to work at that point took about 20 minutes by car, but over an hour by public transport.  Realizing I could cut the commute time in half if I rode my bike to Gare Luxembourg, I started this route in the morning with Pedram.  But depending on the weather, or our schedules, or my willingness to endure the Brussels mayhem, this was not happening everyday.  My biking skills were still sub-par, and I relied heavily on Pedram for assistance to navigate the routes and shake his fists at angry drivers (mine were glued to steering).

When we decided to move to Montreal, we didn’t know what to do with the bike.  Mina was still in Chad, and I couldn’t find another bike-sitter.  Since we were already shipping Pedram’s bike to Montreal, I figured I’d ship mine as well, in hopes that I would be biking in Montreal as well.  Montreal is an incredibly bike-friendly city, with many many miles (kilometers) dedicated to bike paths.  Our first summer here, Pedram was riding to work everyday by bike, and I was slowly beginning to ride as well to go to the market and visit friends.  Due to our terrific winter this past year, Pedram was riding his bike all the way until December, and started back up in March.  This time, I joined him.

I was determined not to be dependent on him any longer to ride my bike, and started finding my own routes and ways to get around.  We started taking different routes to work and back.  We no longer bike together.  And I actually started enjoying it.  My commute is flat, downhill, flat, and then a ridiculous uphill for the last 3 minutes (I get to work panting, definitely awake!) and reverse coming home.  I feel good about spending the additional time outdoors, especially when the weather is great.  I am much more mobile and less dependent on buses and metros.  I don’t have to wait in traffic, which makes me less irritable and more pleasant.  The paths are reliable and good, and there is a strong biking community, making me feel safe even amongst cars.  I feel more confident on the bike, starting and stopping, turning and weaving, and even ringing my bell.

And I swear my quads are stronger than ever before.

I found myself needing a bag of some sort to carry all of my stuff, and started looking for bags and baskets around Montreal to latch onto the bike.  Randomly, while in Syracuse for a cousin’s wedding, I spotted a dismissed used milk cart in an alley and brought it back with me, and stuck it to the back of my bike.  Now I can even carry watermelons home with me.

the basket that carries my handbag

I was encouraged by all of the Bixi (Montreal bike-sharing) riders out there, especially professional women like me who used the bikes as a method of transport.  As the summer progressed, I even started wearing skirt, dresses and heels on the bike, learning how to sit on my skirt so it won’t fly, positioning my heels just right so they won’t slip all over the place, and standing on the bike during a windy period.

Pedram does occasionally ride with me, although he refuses to ride next to me, but rather at least 10 feet ahead.  And sometimes when my skirt gets caught in the chain, and I am freaking out and yelling his name to stop and help me, he will be kind enough to return and help me dislodge and get me on my way.  Most of the time though, I am by myself, a proud daily biker, my choice as my method of commuting.

Look at me! In a dress!

*Mina got this bike because her dad had collected enough points from the local supermarket in Luxembourg to purchase a brand new bike. I get compliments on it all the time, with even an Italian guy stopping me and telling me that his brother has an identical one in Milan.