Suburban Cyclology

When I was growing up in Chicago, my dad taught me to ride a bike in the street with the flow of traffic.If I tried that in Bolingbrook I’d get run over.

From the city’s official cycling website: Chicago law prohibits biking on a sidewalk if you are 12 years old or older, unless it is marked as a bike route.  You’re expected to ride in the street and follow all the same rules that cars follow.

I was terrified to learn to ride my bike in the street when I turned twelve, but it helped that I’d watched my dad navigate so many mornings from the back of his bicycle.

In the early 1980’s, on non-winter days, he took my brother and me to school. On his bike. I would sit in the back, one leg in each of the metal baskets bolted over the back wheel, a newspaper as a cushion, and my hands tucked into his belt. My brother Jon learned to balance sidesaddle on the front crossbar, holding onto the handlebars, when he was only three and a half. He would sit perfectly still, looking out at the road ahead, loving his front row seat.

I wish we had a photo of the three of us on that old blue bicycle. Instead, here’s a photo of my dad and Jon & me around the time we would’ve started our three-person bike rides.

It was the 1980’s, so none of us wore helmets. A stranger once scolded my dad for our unconventional commute but most people around the neighborhood actually knew my dad as “the guy who brings his two kids to school on a bicycle.” Long after we got too big to ride on his bike, my dad continued to commute the mile and half to his office, and around Hyde Park to run errands, play handball, or just to explore. He still does, although the bike he rode during my childhood was stolen years ago.

Last year, I decided to try to ride my bike to work whenever I could. I feel like it’s part of my family heritage. It also means I’ve had to learn to ride a bike in the suburbs, where roads are car-centric and fast-moving, parking lots are everywhere, and sidewalks can be scarce. But Google Maps has been a great help – it will map a safe bike route, if it can.

Yesterday, I managed a new feat – I rode my bike to the hair salon and then to the grocery store! A two mile ride. It was great exercise, and I felt very European. However, you will see from my photos that my ride was in fact, quintessentially Midwestern and suburban.

Starting point: Our suburban garage. (Martha Stewart paint is awfully suburban too, isn’t it? Oh well.)

I’m a passionate wearer of helmets. My uncle was badly hurt in a bike accident several years ago, so I don’t care if my hair is blowing freely in the wind if it means I might split my skull open. I’m a clumsy person, so this is no joke. But really people, wear your helmet.

First stage: Through our local park, which is actually quite a nice ride.

Second stage: Sidewalks along a pretty dangerous major road. 

Third stage: The hair salon, resulting in highlight foils and new bangs, which will be revealed later.

Fourth stage and Confession: I forgot the key to my bike lock. So, at the salon, I wrapped my lock chain around the bike to fake it and hoped no one would know the difference. But for my next stop, a big box grocery store with major traffic and a constant flow of customers, I didn’t think faking would be sufficient. So, I had to bike all the way home to get my key. Sigh. (But hey, I got an extra two and half miles of exercise.)

Fifth stage (after repeating first and second stages): Loading lanes behind the mountain range of big box stores along Weber Road. Very quiet, except for the occasional maverick car.

Sixth Stage: Meijer has a bike rack! This makes me very happy. 

Seventh stage: After doing my shopping, I load up my bike – squeezing a bag with cans, avocados, and parsley into the bike basket and heaving my backpack (complete with a bottle of rose) on my back. A woman stops and tells me how much she loves my bike – she remembers it from the Lands’ End catalog a few years ago. However, she warns me that bikes get stolen in Bolingbrook and I really should use two locks. (Hmm. Sounds like a pain, but I will think about it.)

I wonder if next time I should travel with a baguette?

Eighth Stage: You notice different things from a bicycle. The smell of trees. The breeze. That some hangars at the local airport look like something out of Dune.

Well, you’ve read this far, so you get to see a photo of my new bangs! I haven’t had bangs since I was in 9th grade.

Coming soon: Mint Project Update!