Just don't call me late for supper

Presumably, this sign also includes Chris Bruntlett!

Just Don’t Call Me Late for Supper!

Chris Bruntlett is a pretty good guy. If you don’t believe me, just ask him. He’ll tell you!

To be honest, I don’t know him. I’ve just read a few of his blog posts, one of which is called “I Am Not a Cyclist.” I’ve read it through a couple of times, and I’m still not quite sure what he is trying to say.

I do know that he favours extreme language. He despises being called “a cyclist.”

He always does this and he never does that, this meaning all the good things “cyclists” fail to do and that meaning the bad things “cyclists” inevitably do.

He believes that his polite, dignified behaviour makes him a minority (I’m guessing a minority of one) and sets him apart as something other than a “cyclist.”

Clearly, I am not as good a person as Mr. Bruntlett, but that doesn’t make me feel too bad, since I am pretty sure no one else is either.

And I don’t mind if people call me a cyclist. A cyclist, according to the Cambridge English Dictionary (as well as every other dictionary I consulted) simply means “a person who rides a bicycle.” By definition, as soon as you hop on a bike and begin to pedal, you are a cyclist. Like it or not.

Mr. Bruntlett attempts an analogy: if he uses a vacuum cleaner, it doesn’t make him a janitor. If he flosses his teeth, people won’t call him a dental hygienist. But this is a flawed analogy; the terms “janitor” and “dental hygienist” have specific definitions. (In case you are wondering, those definitions are not “a person who uses a vacuum cleaner” and “a person who flosses his or her teeth”!)

Many monikers have stereotypes. Think of “librarian.” Chances are you pictured a slim woman with her hair pulled back and wearing glasses. Engineer – good at math; terrible at English. What about “lawyer”? Can you imagine how absurd it would be if everyone who didn’t like the traditional stereotypes conjured up by their job titles, for example, refused to let people call them that?

Cyclist happens to be the universally accepted English-language name for people who ride bicycles. The fact that it has certain connotations, some of which might be negative, doesn’t mean we can deny that this is what we are and demand that people stop referring to us by this name.

It’s almost as if Mr. Bruntlett fancies himself royalty or at least someone entitled to special treatment.

Hmm, now that I think about it, it seems like he does. He appears to think that because his behaviour while perched atop a bicycle seat is so exemplary, he deserves to be called by a special name, possibly “someone who often uses a bicycle.” But even his bike is not just any bicycle. No, his is a bicycle that reflects his personality and style. And the casual observer can probably distinguish him from other people who often use bicycles by the fact that he is riding with grace, elegance and dignity, while others around him occasionally ride fast or forget to signal or hop on the sidewalk for a meter or two to avoid a hazardous situation.

It seems I for one would make Bruntlett’s blacklist on a number of counts.

First of all, I like to ride fast. My bike is not only a way to get from Point A to Point B, but it is a fitness tool. By working hard and riding fast when I have the chance, I maximize the exercise benefits of bicycle commuting or running errands by bike. As a result, I am strong and fit and riding fast comes naturally. Riding fast does not preclude riding carefully, and when it’s necessary I slow down, but my preference is to go at a good clip and give myself a bit of a workout.

This leads to the second thing: sometimes I work up a sweat. It’s hard not to when the temperature is 28C and my cadence is 80-90 rpms. Bad, bad, bad. Sweat is bad. Hmm... funny how this recent article about exercise seems to say that working up a sweat is desirable.

Thirdly, I ride my bike almost everywhere, all year round. This means it is not always practical to simply hop on wearing nothing but my work outfit. If it’s raining, I wear my MEC (ooh, another bad word, according toMr. Bruntlett) Adanac waterproof tights over my regular tights or work pants. Sometimes I pack my skirt instead of wearing it, to keep it clean and dry. When I am going for a long ride in the country or in the River Valley, I often clad myself in “cycle wear” – spandex jersey and padded shorts. Even – horror of horrors – clip-in shoes. For me, comfort rules, even if being comfortable means I look like a cyclist.

Fourth on my list of Bruntlett no-nos: I usually wear a helmet. I don’t exactly make a practice of falling, but I know it is a possibility. Once last September, before I had my studded tires on my bike, I rounded a corner, slid on a patch of hidden ice and was on the ground before I knew what had happened. I hit my head and was shaken-up but not injured, thanks to my helmet.

Wow, lots of negatives, eh? Here is the fifth: in the winter, when I ride to work in the dark, I wear a reflective sash over my winter coat. Why not? It didn’t cost me much, it is easy to slip on, and it adds to my visibility. Of course I have lights as well, but I figure the extra stripe of reflective material doesn’t hurt.

Onto number six: I frequently share the road with motor vehicles. This is not my preference, but in Edmonton, it is often a necessity. The other option might be to ride on the sidewalk, and guess what? Number seven: I do that occasionally too,  for example, when the road on a marked bicycle route has not been cleared of ice and snow.

It makes me sad that someone like Chris Bruntlett, who obviously considers himself a leader in the "someone who sometimes rides a bicycle" realm, is spouting off about something so trivial. Rather than encouraging people to ride and talking about the benefits of riding, here he is, like a nine year old on the playground, complaining that people call him names he doesn't like.

I think I should score some points with nay-sayers for being polite, cheerful and friendly when I ride. I try to make eye contact with drivers and give them a grateful nod or wave when they yield to me. I say good morning to my fellow people who ride bicycles and ring my bell when passing pedestrians.

But I am fully cognizant of the fact that no matter how I feel about myself, when I’m riding a bike, I am and always will be a cyclist. You can call me a biker; you can call me a bicycle commuter; you can call me a cyclist. I don’t really care. Just don’t call me late for supper! Because, with the amount of riding I do and the number of calories I burn, I am usually ravenously hungry at about 6:00 PM.

Copenhagen Cyclists in the Spring

How Lorne Gunter gets to be a columnist for a major Edmonton newspaper is beyond me. I can only hope it's because he is willing to work for food. Oh wait, maybe it's his ability to overlook the obvious: He claims that on his recent visit to Copenhagen, he didn't see any cyclists in the bike lanes. 

To put it quite simply: I don't believe him. But wait, maybe that is a tad uncharitable. Maybe he is telling the truth. It's possible that he didn't go outside, since he thought the weather was so formidable. (We're talking 8 degrees Celsius -- that's PLUS 8, not minus 8.) Or maybe he just didn't look around him as he walked along with his jacket's hood obstructing his vision.  

In stating his claim, he is trying to prove a point, summarized in the last line of his op-ed: Spending millions on bicycle infrastructure cannot create a bike culture where Mother Nature rules against it.

Why do I think I know better than an esteemed columnist? I have visited Copenhagen not once, but twice.

The first time was in early March and the first thing I noticed was all the cyclists. I rented a bike and rode along with them, all over the city. It wasn't exactly warm -- about 3 to 5 degrees Celsius during my 3-day visit -- but the cyclists were definitely out there.

This statue of King Christian X was one of the sights I rode past. I also rode to the harbour to visit the Little Mermaid.

The second time I visited Copenhagen was in late April. Again, Mother Nature was doing her best to discourage outdoor activity. It was about 8 degrees, and it was windy and raining rather enthusiastically, which made it feel even colder. But the local cyclists were undaunted. During the morning and afternoon rush hours, the bike lanes were busy, and even in between they were well used.

Not only were there plenty of cyclists out and about, I was struck by the way they were dressed. Some of the women had bare legs or just thin nylons. Some of the riders had bare hands, although most wore what I would consider thin and inadequate gloves. Many had nothing on their heads. Of course, most of them were probably just riding a short distance to work, not spending the whole day riding around, as I was, but still...

So, a word of warning -- just because you read it in the Sun, you shouldn't necessarily believe it. 

Above photo: My rental bike from the Wakeup Hotel in Copenhagen. At first, I was nervous about parking my bike because I thought I might lose it among all the other bikes (hundreds) that were parked nearby. Fortunately, this bike has some identifying marks -- a bright green "wakeup" stamped on the frame, a green "503" on the back fender, and bright orange front forks.

The photos below were all taken on my trips to Copenhagen.

March 5, 2015 - 5 degrees Celsius. You just can't keep those Copenhagen cyclists off the streets!

Oh yes, one more thing... Gunther also discusses Amsterdam. I've been there, too, three or four times, and yes, the first time I inadvertently stepped into a bike lane and received hard stares from passing cyclists. But guess what? That happened to me in Vancouver's Stanley Park, too. As Dr. Suess might say: In cars or on bikes; in the rain, in the snow; people are people wherever you go. A bike lane is for bikes, after all. 

Back to work

It was with a sinking heart that I looked at the forecast for Monday, January 9th -- the first day of our winter session. 

Minus 30 windchill. Three to seven centimeters of snow. 

I considered taking the bus instead of my usual park and ride (my bike) commute, but the bus from Spruce Grove to Edmonton isn't exactly a dream come true either, so I chose the bike.

I parked in Crestwood and rode to work without a great deal of difficulty. I must admit, I did use sidewalks in places. If the city ever decides to do proper snow removal, sidewalk riding in winter will not be necessary, but until then I will just have to squash down those feelings of shame and ride with confidence on the sidewalks. I have a speech all ready to go in case I get stopped by a cop with nothing better to do than bother people riding bikes on the sidewalk.

As I said, the morning ride was not bad. I wore gore-tex mitts that I "borrowed" from my third son, along with wool gloves, and I didn't even need hand warmers. 

102 Avenue Multi-use Trail a.k.a. "bike path"

The ride back to the car after work was another story. Normally it takes me less than half an hour, but this time it took almost an hour. I had to walk my bike a good part of the way, through ankle-deep loose snow. (see photo on left)







I was just thankful I had parked in Crestwood and not Glenwood, where I park when the weather is good.

This bridge is troubled waters, so to speak, for cyclists and pedestrians

Tuesday I took the bus, figuring the streets and shared pathways would probably not be cleared yet. 

Wednesday, I rode again. And again, the ride to work was pretty decent. I tried 102 Avenue, and except for the piles of loose snow here and there along the way, that was okay. And a tailwind of 30-50 km/hour is always nice. It was also quite a bit warmer than the previous two days. Ah, but on the way home, that same lovely tailwind was a headwind. And by that time, there was drifted snow in places, making that ride colder and a little less pleasant.

As always, though, I arrived at the car feeling good about the ride.

Thursday, we were back to minus 30 -- or more. Some of the reports said minus 35 to 40. I parked in Glenora, near the ravine this time, feeling uncertain about the cold and the drifted snow. This was a good decision. I used handwarmers inside the mittens, but by the time I got to work, my thumbs were feeling it. I wore my balaclava and my big warm scarf, so my face was OK, but I don't know how it would have been to ride much farther. This time the wind was from the east, so I had the headwind riding to work and a bit of a tailwind most of the way back to the car. And thus ends another week on the bike. 

With warmer days in the forecast and increasing hours of daylight, I'm anticipating some good rides ahead. Now, if only the city would decide to maintain the roads... Maybe someday.