I Love Bikes

Fucking Swag Bike -- Østerbro, 2012

One of the things that living in Copenhagen has gifted me with, is the time to develop a relationship not only to my bike, but to biking, as well.
Before moving to Copenhagen, I could count the number of times I had ridden a bike in my life. The first time I rode a bike, it was because my big brother Gerry took the time and to teach me. He's not the most patient of teachers, but his love always managed to soften the sting of the scowl that he insisted to wear, rather than appear weak and soft with love, in front of his friends.
I managed to borrow a bike here and there, and biked from one corner of my block to the next. In those days, we all hung out in front of our buildings on Ocean Avenue, and most of my world consisted of Ocean Avenue between Glenwood and Faraget.  There I would bike from one corner to the next, making my way from 1199 where I lived, past the pair of houses that were located between the tall buildings, past the white building (the tallest building on the block--although I can't remember how tall it was, my building had 6 floors, and we thought that was tall!) I would bike past these buildings, past kids playing double dutch and hopscotch. Past girls braiding their boyfriends' hair, boys doing tricks on bikes, all the way to 1111, the building on the other corner. It was on the stoop of 1111 that I hung out with my bestfriend, Rosa Martinez, a Puerto Rican girl who taught me how to say te amo.
I didn't get to borrow people's bikes often enough, though, so I decided to build myself a bike. Well, it wasn't so direct. At that time, Gerry and his friends were really into building their own bikes. And whenever he worked on his bike, whenever he acquired a new part, or oiled his bike, or painted it -- he'd always include me, thereby teaching me in the process. So when my friend Andrea gave me her old banana seat bike and insisted, "all it needs is to get fixed", I knew that I had gotten my first, real bike. The problem was, though, I couldn't figure out how to fix it. And my brother, now a little older and coming home less and less (he was breakdancing in Washington Square Park amongst other things) wasn't around too much to help me. In fact, when I really think about it, all of this coincided with my leaving Brooklyn, at the age of 10, to go live with my grandparents in Trinidad.
In Trinidad I managed to borrow the bikes of my cousins, but still...I was uneasy on them due to the lack of practice. Four years later I return to New York and wouldn't be until I met my friend Karen that I would be on a bike again. I was in my 20s. I remember that day--we biked from her house on Dekalb to my house at Flux in Williamsburgh. I had a few bike rides like that through Brooklyn. And they were always wonderful.
Fast-forward and my boy Reggie and I are in Amsterdam. We're in our 20s and it's our first trip to Europe. I don't really think we cared that we were in Europe, to be honest--we both know too much about that. What got us excited was that we were moving.  We were in the bike capital of the world, and I was hooked. I loved the variety of bikes and how cool every one just seemed, riding them.  To see someone from Amsterdam on a bike is almost as if seeing another species of humans, with bikes attached to them. I saw how parents biked around with their babies sitting behind them and told Reggie, "I'm going to do that!"
Well, I did! Three years later I move to the second bike capital of the world: Copenhagen. When I first visited in '98, I didn't have a bike so spent most of my time of Benjamin's handlebars. That's how I first met Copenhagen. The last time I had ridden on handlebars like that, I was 9 years old.
When I finally got on a bike I biked around Copenhagen, timidly, at first. Every time I had to go out I would get a little nervous. I dreaded biking around, so unaccustomed I had become from lack of practice. But I pushed through and I biked around Copenhagen up until I gave birth. It was terrific practice.  By the time Kai was old enough to sit in the bike seat, I felt more than confident. And let's be honest, for a transplanted New York girl, the traffic in Copenhagen is nothing.

In Denmark we have the Christiania bike--picture a bike with a big box on the front. It's genius--although an American impossibility: it's a lawsuit waiting to happen.  But I LOVE it and I love the fact that people here use it for everything from transporting their children, their instruments, lovers...it's truly a Copenhagen classic.
The Tour de France is really big here in Denmark. One of the reasons is that Denmark tends to do pretty well, and even boasts a former champion. Given that, you'll see lots of Danes, mostly male, shooting and darting through Denmark. Sometimes they do so in teams, other times in father - son combinations. No matter in what type or form you see them, watch out! The other day I heard an angry Tour de Denmark cyclist yell to a too-slow fellow cyclist, "Go away, you're breaking my rhythm!" I had to laugh.
I do like  off-road biking. I haven't really gotten into it, but tried it one summer in a forest up north, and found that not only did I enjoy it, but was quite good at it. One of the things I loved discovering was that anytime I saw an obstacle, if I looked at it, I ran into it, if I didn't--I managed to pass right through. I love that metaphor.
Anyway, I have a pretty sweet bike now. I bought her around the same time I moved to my apartment. I got her from this store on Blågårdsgade, and I remember biking her home--my friend Ida was with me. She's black and pretty simple. I just got a basket the other day, that I can hang on the handlebars. I can put all sorts of things in there--bottles, books, my computer. I am so loving it.
I love riding my bike. And I love living in a city where there are bike lanes laid down just for this mode of transport.
That being said, I'm also ready to try other modes of transport as well. But until then, I'm pretty psyched about my bike. It's not only a great way to see and get around the city, but it keeps my body engaged as well. I guess that's pretty Copenhagen
farvel,
the lab