Know when to fold 'em -- bikes, that is

Somewhere along the way, I developed a bit of an obsession with folding bikes. 

The first time I ever remember seeing one was in the late 1990s, when my next door neighbour Beverley, in Richmond, BC, came home from a garage sale with one. Thrilled with her find, she proudly showed me how it could fold in half and easily fit in their RV.  

I thought it was pretty cool, and because Beverley was older and at a different stage of life, I thought, “Yeah, maybe I’d like one of those someday,” and then promptly forgot about it.

Folding bikes came to my attention again when I visited London for the first time in April of 2015. I made extensive use of the cycle hire system, in which you pay 2 GBP for a 24-hour period and use a bike for half an hour at a time, as often as you want, at no extra charge. For me, this was simply marvelous, and I rode every day of my stay – to Buckingham Palace, to the British Museum, across Tower Bridge, to Trafalgar Square, to Regent’s Park and Hyde Park, and many more places. I did end up paying a little extra because twice I went over the half-hour limit, but even so, it was a super deal.

As I rode, I spotted people on folding bikes. Lots of people. I would see them exit the underground, break open their bikes and start riding. They rode fast, as fast as people on regular bikes. Many had panniers which presumably carried all they needed for a day at work. It was intriguing, and again, I thought that was pretty cool.

When I ended up beside a folding-bike rider at a red light, I asked him how he liked it. He replied that he loved it, adding that he used to use the cycle hire bikes, too, but when he would arrive at Paddington Station in the mornings, there would often be no bikes available, so he’d have to walk to the next cycle dock, hoping to find a bike. After a few times of doing this, he decided to buy a folder, and he was glad he did.

Once again, the thought crossed my mind: I’d like to own a folding bike someday.

The next winter, one morning as I rode my full-sized, studded-tired bike to work, I spotted a woman flying out of her yard in the Glenora neighbourhood -- on a folding bike. She sailed along over the ice and snow, that typical happy-bike-rider look on her face. Although I had previously felt rather special just for bicycle commuting throughout the winter, the sight of this woman riding in an Edmonton winter on her tiny-wheeled folder made me feel quite ordinary and boring. This time I felt more determined than ever: someday, I vowed, I too will own a folding bike.

Fast forward to the summer of 2017. I tentatively mentioned to Hubby that I was sort of, just a wee bit, interested in owning a folding bike. He likes cycling, too, but he doesn't quite get the n+1 rule, so I wasn't sure what he would say. But to my surprise, he was quite enthusiastic. I showed him the one I had in mind -- the Dahon Vitesse i7, with seven speeds and internal gearing (another thing I am a bit obsessed with, by the way.) He liked it, and it was on sale at Revolution Cycle, so he encouraged me to buy it online and we would pick it up the next day.

I love it! It is a dream to ride, and as mentioned in my post about Castor, it even rides nicely on gravel roads. BUT -- it turns out it is too big to take with us on an international flight. Bummer. I guess that means I have to try to find a different folding bike, right?