On the Bicycle Path (Op Het Fietspad)

I've been meaning to write a post about bicycling for a while. One of the most striking characteristics of the city of Utrecht is the multitude of bicycles that line the streets and canals. According to Rick Steves' Amsterdam, Bruges, and Brussels, "the Netherlands' 16.5 million people own 16.5 million bikes, with many people owning two -- a long distance racing bike and a junky in-city bike." (An interesting article on Cycling in the Netherlands, can be found at Wikipedia.org.) I got a bike a couple weeks after I arrived as a birthday present from my husband.

My Bike, Parked in Front of Our House

Riding a bike on the bike paths (fietspads) and on the streets has given me a new perspective on the way we travel. In my car, I am separated from the outside world with hard plastic, metal, and space. I think this space gives people a sense of entitlement. While car accidents kill many people every year, it is easy to forget about the danger when you have your music blasting and are zipping along on the highway. It's also easy to get upset and yell obscenities when no one can hear them past the windows of your vehicle.

Riding a bicycle, however, seems to automatically connect you with the outside world. Other cyclists slip past you, only inches away. Sometimes you feel the brush of another rider's coat or at least a swoosh of air as one passes. Scooters, which share the bike lanes, zoom by at alarming speeds, reminding bicyclists of the need to be aware of their surroundings. In places, the bike lanes are demarcated only by a dotted line, bringing riders closer to the buses and other traffic.

Yet for all the differences, bicycling has become for me, not only a way to get around, but a commentary on traffic patterns and driving in general. I've noticed that people talk on their cell phones or chow down on a sandwich as they ride, just like drivers of cars. I've seen more than one person fall off their bike, because they were standing up riding or doing something else I'm sure they were warned against when they were children. For the Dutch, bicycling is second nature. Because riding a bike starts at an early age (and training wheels are removed far sooner than in America), good and bad habits are formed quickly and don't go away easily. In cars, we hide our bad habits behind tinted glass for no one else to see, as we answer a quick text message or steer just for a moment with our knees in order to pull off a jacket. With this hidden behavior, however, the short text message, the distracting phone call, or the messy sandwich becomes so much more dangerous than the same behavior on a bicycle. On a bike, others can see when a person is distracted before an incident occurs. In a car, people are almost always caught off guard.

The similarities and differences between driving and bicycling became even clearer to me, today. As I rode from the post office to the gym, my route was largely guided by a narrow path in the snow, which ranged from about 6 inches to a foot wide. When I stopped at a light, I became distracted by the sights around me, and soon found myself the object of a polite ding of a bell letting me know the light had changed. I'm sure most of us have been at the giving or receiving end of such a reminder at some point on the road. Only, it probably came in the form of a loud honk, which may or may not have been accompanied by some angry gestures.

Soon, on the same road, I found myself behind two boys, about 10 years old. They were goofing around on their bikes, which had tires more like mountain bikes and less like the slippery ones on my road bike. They road in and out of the path, leaving no room to pass. While they were being the opposite of careful, pushing each other and trying to see how close they could get, they were not moving very quickly. At one point, their bikes made contact and they almost wiped out. I slammed on my brakes and was hit by the person behind me. I glanced back briefly, hoping to share an understanding glance. Instead, the woman was staring ahead with an expressionless look on her face. I got back on the bike, rode a little further, and was once again forced to stop quickly to avoid the pile of boys in front of me. The same woman's tire again came into contact with mine, only this time a little bit harder. I picked up my bike, plopped it down in front of the boys, and continued on my way. I didn't know whether to be more upset with the young boys or the grown woman, who obviously should have known she was following to close. What I did know was that a familiar feeling was growing inside of me -- road rage. The feeling was further fueled by the boys' decision to speed up, overtake me, and cut me off, and then again by a man riding the wrong way on the bike path. I refused to give up my 12 inch pathway, and we brushed coats as we passed.

The thing is, that after this familiar feeling, I realized there was really nothing I could do about it, but take a deep breath and keep on riding. Unlike in a car, where zooming around someone takes no more physical effort than a slight toe point, on a bicycle, you have to exert significant effort to speed up. The pedaling actually seem to help funnel some of that aggression out of the body. This discovery has made me realize how inefficient automobile drivers are at controlling their emotions. Of course, the stakes are higher in an auto -- you get rear-ended by an uninsured driver, and you could be out quite a bit chunk of money.

I just think it's interesting to consider how too modes of transportation can be so similar and so different at the same time. I hope I haven't bored you too much with my musings!