Drop bars: Check. Biking identity: Not Check.

This is part II in the series of a coworker purchasing a bike in NYC.  Part I can be found here. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

8 days ago I picked up my bike from the shop after having drop bars installed.  Cost: $250.  Being able to ride down the street without having people snicker at me: priceless.  So yes, the circle is now complete.  I have my drop bars and I feel much better.  Physically better, as I am able to adjust my arms and wrists in various positions to avoid soreness and to posture myself for the type of riding that the situation calls for. I can definitely ride faster if need be, and need often be. But of course, I also feel psychologically better.  I feel like a real biker.  Or do I?

Last weekend, my indispensable biking resource and friend, A., invited me on a trip with his wife, A2, and fellow cycling enthusiast , J.  I was told to meet my friends at Riverside Drive and 122nd Street at 8am on a Saturday morning.  As I approached this quiet intersection, across from Grant’s tomb, I noticed a large group of cyclists, all decked out in cycling gear, all with top-of-the-line bikes.  Thank god I had my drop bars, but even so, my bike was still not quite up to racing snuff.  Also, I wore mesh shorts, a t-shirt, Skechers sneakers, and no helmet.  To say the least, I looked a bit out of place.  I was wondering if my friend had invited me to some group ride, so I approached the cyclists and asked if they were going to Nyack and if they knew my friend A.  Indeed they were going to Nyack, but they had no idea who A. was.  I sheepishly said “thanks” and moved away from these “real” bikers.

A few minutes later A. and A2 showed up.  They informed me that Nyack is a popular cycling destination, and that many cyclists meet at Riverside Drive and 122nd Street before embarking uptown to cross the G.W. Bridge.  To be sure, as we made our way uptown, cyclists whizzed by, all on some apparent biking exodus.  I already felt like I was connected to some weird alternate universe.  On our way north A2 got a flat, and my friend A. masterfully assessed the situation and began changing the tube (he had brought a portable pump and spare tube).  Soon, J. caught up with us and began consulting.  It was absolutely fascinating to watch these two biking geniuses change a tire. It was almost like watching open heart surgery, in fact.

Soon we were on our way and soon we were on the G.W. Bridge into New Jersey.  I yelped in sheer excitement and joy as we crosses the majestic Hudson River.  I was born anew.  I also caught on to quite an excellent biking term: when you’re in front of the pack and you turn a corner, you yell “clear” to let the bikers know that the coast is clear.  Biking around, yelling out “clear!” I almost felt like I was a member of the Bicycle SWAT team.  CLEAR!!!!

We made our way onto 9W and headed north.  We continued to see bikers, and I felt that I was glimpsing a world of excitement and adventure.  But, dear lord, I was the only one not wearing spandex.  One half of me was in the door, the other half outside.  I couldn’t quite feel like I was a part of this elite community.

We made it to Nyack and visited a coffee shop that is popular with bikers from NYC.  The shop has rows of bike racks in front, and from what my friends told me, it’s usually packed.  The day we were there it wasn’t so busy, perhaps because it was unseasonably cool and also rainy, but there were still quite a few bikers.  We ate some food and headed back, all-in-all a 50 mile trip.  I enjoyed this adventure, but it raised some philosophical questions: what kind of a biker am I?  Can you only be one type of biker?  What is the nature of biking reality?

I continue to wrestle with these questions.  I will be honest: I am young, strong, in decent shape, will continue to get into better shape as I bike more, I’m powerful, handsome and smart.  If I really wanted to, I could wear spandex and become a pretty decent road cyclist.  But is that me?  Perhaps I am more of an urban cyclist, one who rides a fixed gear bike and wears American apparel and crosses the Williamsburgh Bridge on my way to some Cambodian poetry slam.

As I write this, the evening of Friday, June 20, I have just returned from a great urban biking adventure.  I had decided I wanted to try a cream-filled pastry from a new French bakery in Greenwich Village, a distance of 7 miles from where I was.  I realized, however, I had less than an hour to get there before it closed. I took my trusty bike and headed down.  It was raining, but I could handle it.  As I entered Central Park the clouds broke and I could see sections of blue sky.  It seemed as if there was a cosmic struggle between rain and sun, good and evil, taking place, much like the struggle in my soul between road biker and urban biker.  I sped down the loop, feeling happy but unsure of who I was.

Eventually I made my way into the Times Sqaure region and started feeling annoyed with all of the oblivious pedestrians.  So many Europeans and Texans in one place is never a good thing. The sky was getting darker.  Even though you always get slowed down in Midtown, I was still making good time.  I was going to make it to the bakery!  The sky got darker.  It started raining.  And then it happened: I got a flat tire.  And then it started pouring.  The heavens unleashed their fury.  People everywhere began running for cover.  With my broken bike, I also had no choice but to seek refuge.

With my trusty smartphone I looked up the closest bikeshop - it was only several blocks away!  The rain got worse.  I looked at the time.  The minutes were slipping away.  God how I wanted my pastry.  And then the rain started to let up and I walked as fast as I could to Zen Bikes on West 24th Street.  They changed my tube in about 10 minutes, and I was back on my way.  The sun was out.  I actually still had a chance to make it to the bakery.

I pushed as hard as I could, but having to more or less obey traffic laws, I couldn’t quite make it.  I pulled up to the bakery at 7:02pm and they had closed.  I could have banged on the window and begged for a cream puff, but I decided to retain my dignity.  I ended up going to get an ice cream sundae from a popular New York establishment, the Shake Shack. I stood outside, my bike wedged between my legs, and ate my sundae. The sun, or what was now left of it as the Earth rotated away, reflected off the skyscrapers of Manhattan.  What an exciting hour I had as I raced against time to get my pastry.  And even though I missed the pastry, there was at least Shake Shack.  I can always go back for the pastry.  And I can always go back to road biking up to Nyack.  Perhaps this is the beauty of biking and life.

Comments

[Lucas]

You can be as many types of bikers as you want. Personally, I've got my '85 schwinn, a trek marlin 29er, a tall bike, and a fixie (minus the American Apparel) and I love them all. I love the roadie for races and commuting. When at races, i usually have the oldest heaviest bike there, but I figure that if I can keep up with the carbon croud on a heavier bike, i've won. The fixie, I love for training. it really wears your legs out never coasting, and it was fun to build on the cheap, and it's fun to ride. The marlin is just fun all aroud on the trails. The tall bike...it's fun, but it's so fun. I love them all.

[Leo Horishny]

Some good points and if you compare them to questions that were also asked when bicycling first appeared on the scene a century ago, sadly, not much has changed. :-\

I have access to used bicycle clothing and I appreciate having the lycra apparel at thrift store prices. I have ridden with my street clothes (home made knickers), but they're best suited for short rides in cooler temps. When it's hot out, having technical, synthetic clothing does keep the sweats off the body.

I have another set of questions for you:
What do you do when an out of the ordinary bike is too comfortable and suits your riding needs? A majority of recumbent riders have to make peace with that decision.
Also, for the 4 years I've been commuting, I find myself a third wheel in that I don't go for 50 plus mile recreational rides or races every weekend. Nor do I go bombing down rocky scree on a freeride bike.
Mountain bikes or high end road cycles are the 2 groups in my area, commuters and cargo bikes are purple cow concepts where I live, even among (especially among?) the committed cyclists in my community. I easily put on 20 - 30 miles a day running errands and shopping by bike, but I find transport/utility cycling a satisfying goal in and of itself.

Perhaps these decisions and questions answer why it is that cyclists tend to be independent, loosely congregating sorts? In my area, at least, people tend to not be open to new bicycle concepts other than the ones they know or participate in.

In my opinion, it tends to be so, worse than the H/D, BMW, Rice burner facets of motorcycling.

[Jim]

It's actually funny watching the......real bikers in their full kits and carbon frame bikes on organized rides. I show up in a t-shirt and road bike shorts on a Long Haul Trucker. I ride a lot of charity rides, that seems to be the only thing going on in Tennessee. They all race for the end of the ride, I kick back and enjoy the birds, foxes, deer, and dogs. Life is great at the back of the pack and a lot of laughs at the snobs that don't have time to smile and wave. Life is better going slow and comfy!

[Maple Leaf]

You may be wondering what "type" of biker you are, but those two stories tell me that you are, indeed, a "biker" and that's what counts!

Welcome to the cult!

[johnnytrashbike]

you want to be a cream-filled pastry, but, the universe is telling you that you're an ice cream cone. the cream-filled pastries don't really care that you're an ice cream cone. they're just happy to see another dessert. and ice cream cones are great! just ride it!

[Josh]

Thanks for chiming in, everyone. Getting into biking is really interesting. There's learning about the mechanics of the bikes and how to make modifications, but also the psychological/cultural stuff. And although I joke around a bit in my posts, I am totally inclusive and love anyone who rides a bike. Although people who ride in New York City are cooler and tougher. ;)

[Slim fatboy]

You are a true American hero. Get some cleats and a couple of jerseys and shorts and you'll be an American legend.

[BikeManDan.com]

$250?!

[TDK]

Yeah, it sounds like he got brakes, bars, tape and shifters for 250, which isn't a awful deal.

As far as "types of biker" Just ride and stop caring. I ride road bikes (rarely anymore), mountain bike (geared or ss), commute (fixie with racks and panniers) and cargo with a trailer. And I have never felt like a tool cause I wasn't on the wrong kind of bike.
You will find your place and from the sounds of it you will enjoy the crap out of it. Keep the excitement around as long as possible.

[TDK]

Oh and add a harley sportster that is all tracker/cafe style and a sport bike stance. Tell me where that fits with the jap rocket/cruiser/beemer/harley crowds?

[Leo Horishny]

>>Oh and add a harley sportster that is all >>tracker/cafe style and a sport bike stance. Tell me >>where that fits with the jap rocket/cruiser/beemer>>/harley crowds?

>>Posted by: TDK | 06/22/2011 at 12:28 AM

Interesting. It wasn't a slam, though you took it that way. You may be the exception, but you don't notice how the Harley riders don't wave to the 'Wing or the Beemer riders on the road? I wave to all brands, but rarely receive return hands anymore.

Bicyclists seem to be worse on the road acknowledging the passing of others....

[clever-title]

Getting my first non department-store bike in the late 1980s, when mountain bike racing got to be mainstream; I never developed the "real bikes have drop bars" idea.
To this day, I still prefer flat bars when commuting as they make it easier to make eye contact with motorists, but I'm happy to see anyone riding safely on any kind of bike.