Bicycling

My first bike in Tucson, with resting white-winged dove.

One of the first things I did in Tucson, in July of 2007, was buying a bicycle. I could not see myself "going native" and commuting by car every day, and my boyfriend at the time, a native of the Pacific Northwest, couldn't see it either. The Ordinary Bike Shop sold me an old-style (but new), black cruiser, which looked, so people told me, "very European", and sported features like a kickstand and fenders, things that were inexplicably rather uncommon in Tucson. I immediately got another piece of equipment which is, in my understanding, an essential necessity for a bike, but proved utterly useless: a bell. It was useless, because off campus, there were not enough pedestrians to ever even need to make use of it, and on campus, most everyone seemed to never have heard of bells being on bicycles, so nobody reacted to it in the appropriate way (which is: realize they are walking on the bike lane and get the hell out of there). Other than the resulting near-collisions, the daily commute to university was really nice: long enough to get the circulation going, but short enough I wouldn't die on a summer late afternoon, and, I found, very good for my general well-being. 

My lucky raffle ticket

A couple of years later, I got my second bicycle (more precisely, I won it with a $2 raffle ticket I paid $1.85 for, because that was all the cash I had on me at the time): a fast, light street bike in my favorite color that was a little too small for me. In spite of fighting a little with its small size, I loved how light and fast it was. Speeding down Mountain Avenue's broad bike lane overtaking everyone, and then slowing down to turn into my street like on a highway exit was one of my daily joys. 

After the breakup with my boyfriend, which also meant a breakup with the car, I came to rely completely on these two bicycles, and learned the following things: 1. It is much better to own two bicycles, when that's your only means of transport. You do not always have the time or means to repair things, so it is nice to have a second bike to fall back on. 2. In a city like Tucson, you can do a lot of things by bicycle - but not everything. For some things, you need friends with cars. This may sound like a disadvantage, and it is, if your shopping list for the night involves 5 big flower pots, several gallons of potting soil, a six pack of microbrews, toilet paper, washing powder, and a takeout dinner at Nico's Tacos. But socially, it is an advantage: "depending" on other people for little services and returning favors to them with the means you have means connecting with them. I am convinced that taking your own car alone everywhere can make you very lonely. Two of the people I met in Tucson and got to know through shared car rides ended up being my best friends there. One of them I sold my fast bike to - she had relied on her only bike for years, and let me convince her that that second bike really makes life easier. The other became my husband. 

When leaving Tucson, I also parted with the first bicycle, since it was heavy and had only three gears, and Vienna has hills. I wasn't even sure about biking in Vienna. Tucson is easy. Yes, there are drivers who act as if they had never seen a bicycle. But, there is plenty of space for everyone and their road stupidity. It almost never rains, snow is a once-in-5-years event, ice and slush are unheard of, and the heat, well, you learn to cope with it. And once I discovered the green goo that seals tiny pinholes in inner tubes, even the cactus stingers lost much of their horror. What I knew of Vienna was what I remembered: fighting for survival on crowded streets between tram tracks and opening car doors, bike lanes ending without warning in shared lanes with everything that's dangerous, insufficient parking, bike theft. Biking was a sport, but not a commuting option competitive with public transport. 

source: http://images.travelpod.com/

I was very wrong. Even on my first bike ride in Vienna, on a snowy spring evening, terrified and freezing on technically the same bike I had left to my brother in 2007 (5 1/2 years and two accidents later, so many parts had been replaced that I did not recognize it), I quickly realized that things had changed. The bike route across Südtirolerplatz was unexpectedly straightforward, and did not even involve using a pedestrian crosswalk. There were clearly designated bike lanes, and even special small bike traffic lights, at the appropriate eye level. I was impressed. 

I am still impressed. Vienna has become a very bike friendly city and biking is clearly encouraged. (That's what a green party in the city government does, I guess.) To be sure, there are more things to worry about than in Tucson: For starters, there is just simply a lot less space on every road. For everyone. In streets originally designed for pedestrians and a few horse-drawn carriages, there are cars, parked cars, pedestrians, tourists (an especially inattentive class of pedestrian, so I mention them separately), many other bikers (I have been in slow bike traffic on Margaretenstrasse, no jam yet, but not too far from it), buses, trams, their treacherous tracks, motorbikes, trucks, construction sites, dogs, and, yes, still a few horse-drawn carriages (I was not so sure about approaching a horse on a bike the first time I was in the situation, but turns out they are rather unphased, by anything). There are plenty of potentially dangerous setups, so, you have to pay attention and bike defensively. (On a related note, I am baffled how many people here bike without helmet.) But the infrastructure has improved so much that bike commuting has become viable, and faster than public transport on my current route. There is lots of new bike parking, there are bike lanes where I couldn't even envision them (Margaretenstrasse is a miracle of efficient use of space), and drivers generally seem to be mindful. I dare to say that if bike theft is common, it's probably because people are extremely casual with locking their bike and the kinds of locks they use. (I hope I didn't jinx anything here.)

A particularly nice thing about my commute is that a good part of it is not even in the described mayhem of road users: it's a relaxing non-stop ride on the beautiful wide path between rows of trees on Ringstrasse. One of the best things about biking there: people know what a bell is. I just ring and watch them jump.