Bicycle Buddha

She is like a big muscular lover, overbearing but gentle. I tiptoe around her, still too shy to crawl under her belly. I can see big metal springs, shafts and pistons and tanks full of toxic fluids down there. Black dirt and rust. Massive tires as high as my shoulder. She is so ugly and yet, so lovely.

I try to disguise her automotive nature. Toss a rug over her massive steering wheel and put a pot of chives on the hood. I tell myself she is not so much a bus as a landlocked ship on wheels but really it is ridiculous to hide her identity. She weighs in at five tons. She’s my vessel.

This is the Universe grabbing me by the shirtfront and shaking me hard, throwing my carefully constructed identity back in my face like a glass of cold water. I stand naked in the face of my aversions. Nose to nose with the me I thought I was–Car-free Carmen, who rants about posessions and ownership, property is crime, yada yada yada. Not to mention cars – cars, good god! Wham! I now own both a home and a freakin’ enormous motor vehicle, keys in my hand and papers to prove she is mine.

In the shaping of heart’s desire I am learning to strike a balance between the general and the specific; to identify what I truly want without getting all caught up in details. In this way my options are many, my limitations are few, and my arms are wide open to receive.

I asked the Universe for just this: a tiny house among the trees. My wild imaginings did not envision an old Chevy school bus. The trickster Universe gives me exactly what I ask for but sometimes it comes in a funny wrapper. The price of the gift is small but steep–one stubborn crumb of self-identity that no longer serves me. Just one passing iteration in the lifelong fabrication, that I in my delusion imagined was me.

Once in New Mexico I decided to go for an adventure to Albuquerque, and I asked if anyone had recommendations for what to do there. “You want to go to Albuquerque? Albuquerque is an armpit! Just move on through,” replied one car-dependent resident. Undiscouraged, I put my bike on the train in Santa Fe and rolled off into downtown ABQ. I threaded my way through the hidden neighbourhoods of Nob Hill, and over a magnificent pedestrian bridge across the Rio Grande. I paused at a Mexican bakery and a funky old theatre, and a hidden downtown alley where street folk sang soul tunes in the sun. An ancient black man in a straw hat offered me a hotdog and invited me to sit for a while, and I did. Had I driven through Albuquerque I probably would have found yet another crumbling American metropolis; just another armpit between the Interstates.

I find pockets of paradise in every place I explore by bike.

When I’m riding my bike through drifts of cherry blossom on the bikeways of Vancouver I sometimes try to imagine the view from behind the windshields of the cars in the parallel universe just one block away, speeding along Kingsway in the morning commute. Or not speeding, rather fuming, as once again a collision brings the blur of strip malls into focus as traffic grinds to a halt. The view of endless bumpers, infinite gray concrete, all filtered through a bubble of metal and dirty glass. No wonder drivers often hate the city. They see only the ugliest parts of it, under stress and at speed.

I have heard tell of the pleasures of the Great (North) American Road Trip, but for me the ferry or the train, the bike, or my own two feet is the way to travel. Go slow, enjoy the journey. It’s all about the ride.

A year ago I went to work at The Bike Doctor as a humble pedlar of pedals.

I had never worked in the retail end of bikes, and The Bike Doctor is a big store. I was shaky and a little intimidated. There are hundreds of models of bikes and thousands of products I was supposed to know about, and although I’ve done tons of bikey stuff through the years the fact is I didn’t know jack about parts or accessories, or bikes. My abilities as a mechanic didn’t (and still don’t) extend beyond fixing a flat, and half the time I could not even get the damn tire off the rim. I was the only woman on a staff of 26 men. And since I hadn’t worked in a store since I was a teenager, the workings of the modern cash register (remember cash?) were utterly strange to me. I made a lot of mistakes.

The job called for an immediate ego smackdown. Working basic retail isn’t exactly high on the social prestige scale, and a woman my age with a resumé isn’t ‘supposed’ to be mopping greasy floors and making change for inner tubes. The pay barely cleared minimum wage, and my ‘supervisor’ was half my age. My bigass ex-clients would come in and raise amused eyebrows as I tightened their saddle or scrambled to find them a tire, but there I was—humble shop clerk and pedal pusher. Clocking in and clocking out. (more…)

One day last week I took the notion to ride to Bellingham, Washington. I’d never been there, and hey, it is a place I had never been. What better reason?

Well actually the other reason was that I wanted to test my passport, to see if Homeland Security would give me the evil eye. And biking over the border just seemed like such a cool thing to do that it had to be done.

I did not get an early start, but as per Tony’s First Precept of Zycling, I was not in a hurry. By the time I got my snacks and maps together it was 10am and spitting lightly but the sky was bright to the south-west, from whence weather usually flows, so I headed out. (more…)

This is a Guest Post by Anthony Golding, a bicycle buddha who sits zazen, blogs, and leads zycling expeditions in the U.K.

His website is Zycling: Zen cycling and how to wheel freely

1) THERE MUST BE NO SENSE OF URGENCY
2) LEAVE AT HOME RADIO, MUSIC PLAYERS, CELL PHONES, and if you can, WATCHES
3) STAYING SILENT DURING PARTS OF THE DAY
4) RESPONDING TO AND BEFRIENDING YOUR SURROUNDINGS
5) RECOGNISING AND HANDLING FEAR
6) HANDLING COMPETITION
7) ON BEING ASSERTIVE
8) HAVE AN ADVENTURE BY YOURSELF

Just about every day I get an email saying, hey, I want to get a bike! I want to ride around town, do some shopping, maybe ride to work. I’m a little scared. I haven’t had a bike for a long time and I want to be comfortable. What should I do?

First, the brief affirmation: YES you DO! You do want a new bike! A bike that makes you want to ride, vs just good enough to get you there. A bike that will save you money and time, keep you healthy, and make you  beautiful (this is not marketing hype: I personally have never seen an unattractive person on a bike). You’re not looking for a product—you are looking for a relationship. A good bike will be your partner, and it is something you cannot afford to not afford. Find the right bike and the world will open up for you in ways you might never have imagined.

SO: about that bike. In an ocean of bikes, how to you find your true love? (more…)

Step back. This is a bit of a rant.

I have been working at the bike shop for almost a year now, and here is a true fact: I have seen many couples come in to buy bikes together, and not once — not ONCE! — have I seen a couple leave with a pair of bikes, where the woman’s bike cost substantially more than the man’s. I’ve seen lots of men ride out on fine $1,000 road bikes or high-end hybrids, while the partner chooses a mid-range hybrid, or worse—a clunky “retro” upright or a step-thru ladybike. In the case of couples I can only assume this is because a) the woman’s needs are assumed to be less budgetable than the man’s, and b) the man would feel emasculated to ride on a lesser bike than his partner. I’m waiting for a better explanation, but I haven’t heard one yet. (more…)

In these rainy slow bikeshop days one of my jobs is to call up everyone who bought a bike this summer and remind them that it is time to bring it in for a free warranty tuneup. Of course it’s not just a public service call (or as i like to call it, a summons to “regular dental hygiene for your bike”)–every customer who comes into the shop is likely to drop a little cash. With only three weeks to go til Christmas retail in general is being described as ‘flatlining’, and bike stuff isn’t exactly the hottest seasonal seller. So, much as i pride myself as being an active agent of global economic collapse, I’m not averse to drumming up some sales. (more…)