8:17 p.m.

Monday, May. 08, 2006

and so with a push began the pedaling

Bicycle to School- Day 1:

All morning I thought about how I would be riding my bicycle to school and was looking forward to the freedom from waiting for the bus. While taking the bus itself is about the same time it takes to ride to and from school, it's waiting for the bus that makes a bigger time difference. Lately I have been catching the bus with about a five or so minute wait, but I didn't buy a bus pass and so instead bicycling is the name. I admit that my one main worry, other than being hit by a car or just falling off my bike for some reason, was feeling dorky wearing my bike helmet. During my weekend back at home I decided to buy a new lock for my bike since I only have a short old chain that is partially wrapped in a transparent sparkley plastic, locks with a standard key lock, and has some cut marks in a couple of the chain links from the doing of my brother, as my mother assumes, when he was a teenager because he couldn't find the key and probably wanted the chain for some reason. Maybe for style. Maybe he was going to be in a fight. Maybe he wanted to hide it in his pants in case he was to get into a fight, like Dim in A Clockwork Orange. I don't know. The other lock I have, until the purchase of my Schwinn key lock on a coiled cable, is a U-bar with a round key lock. These are considered the strong and smart locks, except a couple years ago I read some online bicyclist forums about how you can break into these types of locks with a Bic pen. I even watched a video of someone doing it online to prove it could be done. I tried it myself, but to no avail. I'm sure it takes some practice. That is the problem with bicycling places: there's bound to be a chance of someone at least trying to steal your bike. You can protect your bike with a good lock, but even still there's a risk, so you can ride a crappy bike, though that doesn't deter everyone. People brake into alarmed cars too, so really I guess accepting the fact that you may one day show up to find no bike is something to consider.

Okay, so I bought a new lock. My other form of protection is using a designated bike storage that my school has as part of the covered teacher parking area. I've seen many bicycles locked to all parts of the school, a sign post here, along most of the handrails (beside a sign that asks that bikes not be locked to the handrail), but I don't want my bike in such a visual area for fear someone will notice and take my easy release seat, the one I keep forgetting to buy bolts to replace the easy release lock. Besides, I'm mostly law abiding, so when I see a sign saying "don't do something" I usually follow, or look around to see if someone will see me doing "something". With the bike storage there is someone who watches over the bikes, so I feel less worry about my bike being at least messed with; I am sure someone, one day, would take the seat because it would not only be easy, but they simply could.

Other than buying a new lock, while I was back in Sactown, I was considering buying a new helmet. After choosing a lock, I briefly looked at the available helmets, maybe tried one on (featuring removable visor!), but decided for that I would hold off because the cost was the same as the lock and I could take my dad's helmet from home, which I used sometimes before I moved anyway. I almost forgot to grab the helmet too, already backing out of the driveway, halfway down, before I stopped, sat for a moment, then decided to go back for the helmet and a couple fun sized candy bars for the drive home. Even though I grabbed the helmet I was not decided that I would use it, memories of feeling dorky wearing a helmet for a ride around the neighborhood flowing through my head. Some time during the weekend was spent mulling this over in my head.

Well, it's my head. I like having it intact and in good order. I know the drivers here aren't the most attentioned and tend to 'fly' down streets as if there are only two speeds: fast and 'why am I not moving!?!' I've studied the brain, I study psychology, why the hell wouldn't I want to protect my head? Plus, screw others if they got a problem with my helmet wearing. That's usually the best solution, which really means the solution that makes you feel better: "aww screw them, I'm awesome!" Plus, to help me not think so much about wearing a helmet I wore it when I rode to school to check out where the bike storage is located and to see what the ride is like. During the ride I found that I didn't mind the helmet, easily forgot I was wearing it due to paying more attention to the road and drivers/not getting hit, and that the helmet leaves little black bits on my forehead from the lining. So, the helmet is a go, I know a decent path to school, and there's a place for my bike when I get there. Woo hoo, bike riding!

This morning I was excited to get out on the road with my bike and see how it would be on a working day. Sunday's can be lazy, less people moving about at the same times, no real indication of what the next five days will be like in terms of transportation. On later speculation, though, I don't leave my house until after 10am, usually, so by then there is not much traffic. Still, I figured more people would be out and about. When I finally got out on the road the difference in traffic patterns was a bit more waiting time at stop signs for cross traffic to be clear, block after block for 5 or 6 blocks. Altogether the ride to school went rather quickly. There was one point where I got to the nice wide path that follows the lake area beside my school, where I could ride without stopping for at least a mile, when I was behind another bicyclist-what appeared to be an older gentleman, white haired with a ballcap on-moving at a pace a bit slower than my own. As I slowly gained on him I considered my options: pass him, pass him and say the bicycle safety line "on your left", stay behind him until I get to the crosswalk that I take to get across the street for school. I thought about this while not passing him, only some people on foot going in either direction, and considered how I don't like speaking loudly, which would be required, and what if I surprise him so that he veers in my way or falls off looking back-not cause he's older but because I worry a bit much. For awhile I thought maybe it'd be easier if I used a different line, since alerting the other bicyclist appears to be the point of saying something, something like "hey, Punk Rock" or "Yo, hey now!" While I considered these terms and their possible ramifications, or the suddenly fun sounding option of having a bell (ring ring, ring ring), the path began to make a decline and the gentleman sped off. "Excellent," I thought as I proceeded on my merry way, only a few moments from the crosswalk where I make my exit for school.

When I arrive on campus I head straight for the bike storage which is conveniently in the back of the school and nearest to where I enter school grounds. Arriving in the bike storage I look into the office to see a young guy, about my age, probably another student, sitting staring at a computer screen, looking up briefly to note my appearance. There's a clipboard with a list of names and times, but I'm not sure of the exact procedures, so I ask the guy if I'm to sign in. He comes to the window and fills me in on the procedure, looking a little surprised-I think-that so late in the semester someone is starting to use the bike storage. He gives me a card that I put with my bike and has a duplicate I hold onto, basic bag check procedure, and I sign in on the sheet with the card number, name, and time in. Then I find an area with less bikes on a rack and lock my bike and helmet up. That was another thing about my helmet that bothered me: I didn't want to carry it around school and I don't like hanging it off my backpack. After locking up my bike I give a smile and nod to the guy in the office as I walk out.

I decide to head to my class even though it doesn't start for another half hour. Alont my walk I notice how tight and sligtly wobbly my legs feel; the signs of some real work. My tired legs get another workout when I hit the stairwell, five flights of stairs ahead of me as my class is on the fifth floor. This is the longest climb for me yet in this building, but nearly every semester I've had a climb in this building that has me breathing a bit harder as I walk the hall to my destination, feeling some embarressment for being winded and hoping I'm not breathing noticbly as I reach class. Really, today's climb is not much different, my legs have just done a bit more work than walking.

Most of the day at school I think about riding my bike. I am looking forward to the ride home and hope I am not feeling tired when my evening class gets out. Other than wanting to ride I was more hungry than usual, so after eating my lunch and talking with some friends I bought some more food to eat while I drank a usual afternoon coffee. For awhile I thought about not going to class, but decided I may as well stick around because I wouldn't do work if I went home anyway. Plus class was only half as long and I only sort of gave some attention, except when the video was on, then I gave more attention. During the short lecture time when the teacher was going over some repeated information I started writing the chorus of David Bowie's song "Let's Dance" but with my own lyrics in place of those I don't remember. Once the teacher said, "That's all" I had my spiral notebook closed and put away, moving in excitement of getting to my bike.

Walking into the bike storage I looked into the office to see a different guy looking into his computer and gave him a smile as I passed by, moving toward my bike. I pulled out my key, lifted my lock to find the key hole, stuck my key in and turned. When I played with my lock the day before the lock would bounce out when the key fully turned, but now, nothing. "Uhhh," I thought, turning the key again and again. Pull out the key, exam it, turn it over and try it the other way (dual sided key). Still no luck. I try turning it again and again, pull it out to exam the key, look in the hole, try again and tug on the lock a bit. Frustration builds and I begin to wonder what I can do if my lock doesn't work for some reason. Ask the guy if he can cut the lock? Walk home? Sigh a bit more?

Somehow, upon turning the key on a final try, I tug on the lock differently and success, the end that is suppose to pop out pops out. I feel a bit embarressed, realizing that I had been tugging on the wrong end previously. Coil up the lock, put it in a side pocket, take off my sweater, stuff it into my backpack, take cards and bike up to office to sign out, hand over the card with an exchanged 'thank you' from me and the guy. I walk my bike outside to some small benches so I can put a rubber band around the ankle of my right pants leg so it doesn't get caught up in the gears, as happened on Sunday's ride numerous times with another, now scuffed around the inner right ankle, pair of slacks. Next on is the helmet before I swing my leg over my bike and ride off.

A nice thing about riding a bicycle in San Francisco is the hills. A difficult thing about riding a bicycle in San Francisco is the hills. Going down. Going up. I've ridden longer and steeper inclines in the city, but any incline, especially when you haven't ridden in awhile, is difficult. I think the ride to school has more downward slope than the ride back. Also, on the ride back there was wind blowing against me. I didn't notice much more than a breeze this morning, but then again when moving with the wind it's easier to perceive it more as a breeze. The ride home went well and despite about four blocks of gaining incline, the final turn three blocks from my apartment heads downhill toward the ocean and I get to mostly coast for the final portion of my ride home. When I get to the house I live the I see the man of the family I live beneath squatting at the far edge of the garage, appearing to be painting or something with a large brush. As I roll up the driveway he turns around and hops up excited to see me: he had locked himself out of the gate, so with my arrival I could let him in. I unlocked the gate and we chatted for a bit. While he talked part of my mind drifted off and I thought, "tomorrow I will ride my bike again."

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