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A piece called 'One Less Car' rang a lot of bells. Not so much the red lipstick and perfect make-up, but I do recognise the feelings of tough girl, independent and glamorous, making her own way in the world, fit, fearless and capable. I haven't ridden in Critical Mass, but I've done the Dunwich Dynamo. I do my own maintenance - I even true my own wheels - and these days I look good in lycra. I never thought I'd have the definition or muscle in my legs that I have at the moment, and I like the attention I get from the staff in bike shops. I'm a bike activist - I run the BUG for the office here, and am involved nationally in bicycle related matters. I write bicycle-related fiction and my co-workers think of me as being tough and assertive because I ride on main roads they would never dare to ride. I even teach others to ride like I do, and shun the shoddy surfaces and broken glass of the segregated paths for the joys and freedom of the open road, with it's 40mph stretches and long sweeping bends.
I haven't owned a car for almost a year now, or maybe it is a year. I've hired a car once in that time, driven a fair number of times. I've come to think of cars on the road, with their inattentive drivers who are almost universally (but not entirely) selfish, as rather like large predators, or herd animals. Some of them try to kill me. Some of them might kill me accidentally without meaning to. A rare few recognise the vulnerability of a woman on a scant piece of machinery as compared to someone in a tin box, and give me the room I need. I have learned how to choose clothes that make my humanity, and my sex, obvious. I have outfits that make me look like something out of Star Trek, because I get more attention that way, and anything that gets me attention on my bike is a good thing. My bike is the primary receptacle of my disposable income, my pride and joy, my darling baby, second only to my husband, and then only just. It's not the love that one might have for a car. It's the freedom, the independence, the knowledge that even if the world comes to a halt, I can still climb on that machine and travel the length and breadth of the country. I'm not interested in racing. I'm interested in going as far as I can by my own steam, knowing I'm not causing harm to anything by doing so. My bike has given me health, contentment, and confidence in my own internal strength and power. The roads don't belong to the drivers. They only borrow them. Motorways were built for drivers, that's why they're called motorways. Roads were built for cyclists. Even the word comes from the Old English rad, meaning 'riding'. Get out there, get on your bike and ride. |
Copyright Samantha Fleming, 2002. All rights reserved.