I am reluctantly becoming a “bike person”

The country is very much divided today. If you are not a snowflake or a racist, then you probably are just not on social media very much, and that’s fine. But if there is one thing almost everyone agrees on, it is that people on bikes kind of stink.

Why is that? Well for one thing, they never follow the rules of the road. They act with impunity as they recklessly try to murder civilians or get in the way of vehicles, and they will almost certainly blame you for any wrongdoing on their part. Moreover, they are quite uppity about their perceived rules of the road and will have no qualms honking at you if you enter their beloved bike path or commit even the slightest of ills. 

Beyond the arrogance and disregard for the rules of a civil society, bikers also wear stupid clothes and act with the elitism of someone with a Roman numeral after their name from a Harvard Finals Club. More annoyingly, they often lobby for government dollars to spend disproportionate gobs of money for bike lanes and throughputs that ultimately hurt the vast majority of commuters while otherwise appealing to this very small (but quite vocal) minority of losers.

Think about this simple question: how many viral social media videos have you seen of self-righteous bikers yelling at people or becoming violent? Have you ever seen one where the person on the bike is actually the victim?

Plus bikes are getting stolen all the time. If you own one, you need to lock it up wherever you go. And then when you are done using it, you need a whole dedicated closet space (often called a bike room) to store the bike. Lots of moving parts to being a bike person – you really need to be committed to the cause of seeking moral superiority over others.

Alas, I recently have found myself in quite the predicament. My wife and I recently moved to Charlestown, a quaint, yuppie part of Boston full of dogs and babies and pregnant women, and now – us. My past life in downtown Boston involves a gym I enjoy frequenting almost every day and other frequent pleasures, like trips to Bruins, Celtics, or Red Sox games, or going to the famous North End for a nice Italian meal. Sadly, all of these things are now quite the walk away, and while I do have a car, Boston is notorious for its terrible parking situation. This leaves me with two choices: become a bike person, or become a bus person. I’ve chosen the former.

For the last few days, I have been riding the BlueBike around Boston to get to and from the places I need to go in downtown Boston from my new home. The first day was a bit tough. When attempting to cross a street, I was yelled at by an overweight activist about the “right of way.” The idea of “right of way” is quite sacred to members of the biking community. They shriek and shout about it the same way purple-haired students yell at guest speakers who talk about “capitalism” and “colorblindness” on a college campus. As you can imagine, I have been learning the rules of the road through trial and error (but mostly error).

But as snakes molt their skins and caterpillars eventually turn into butterflies (somehow), I too have had my own metamorphoses in life, with this one being the latest. There is a certain smug feeling about grabbing a BlueBike at 6am while the city sleeps and feeling the cool summer breeze on my face as I pedal through the mostly empty roads saving loads of money that I am no longer giving to greedy corporations like Uber. What I am doing is “eco-friendly,” and this alone makes me a better person than you, the person who is reading this blog.

Already I have found myself becoming one of them. “Why hasn’t the city invested in more biking infrastructure?” “Why are these pedestrians such a pain in the ass?” “Why are these drivers giving me a dirty look for biking against road traffic?” But my favorite thing amongst them all is ringing my snooty little bell at people whenever they rub me the wrong way. Sometimes I hit the bell by mistake which causes some angry glares but I have learned by now that the feelings of the people on foot no longer matter.

I am looking forward to continuing to march into this brave new world. Who knows what it will bring. I had a similar revelation about becoming part of the very elitist running community several years ago and I subsequently went on to run three marathons. So watch out Tour de France, because I may be coming for you faster than you know it.