I ride a bike because it's fun. Or at least the way I ride a bike is fun (in my estimation). I don't ride fast. I don't wear Lycra. I don't get dirty. I don't schlep anything on my person. I can easily wave at bystanders or stop and have a chat (because I'm not gasping for breath). I carry whatever I need with me in my basket.
Unfortunately, I didn't always do things this way. In my school days, I tried to ride to campus sans basket or rack with a humongous bookbag on my back. It was a pretty miserable experience in a brief three mile commute. Of course, three miles carrying a bookbag doesn't sound that bad, but consider the fact that I was in Atlanta. In September. After arriving on campus and getting out of the heat, I still had my profuse back sweat to deal with. While I carried some fabulous body wipes and spritz (chilled in the refrigerator for the Atlanta heat), I still felt icky (and I was probably a little whiffy despite my efforts). I didn't have another shirt to change into because I couldn't have transported it unwrinkled in my bookbag. Needless to say, I didn't last long as a commuter cyclist.
Because of my fond memories of riding a bike as a kid, I figured that my arduous commute had to stem from something I had done wrong. Searching the Internet for answers, I found commuter cycling websites that represented a community of folks riding bikes with fenders, chain guards, racks, baskets, or panniers who rode in order to get from point A to point B, not to beat their own time. Looking a bit further, I found a website advising women cyclists on how to cycle in skirts and heels. This was my first inkling of cycle chic. Then I found Copenhagen Cycle Chic. It was a revelation. Next, I had to find my ride with civilized accessories. As luck would have it, I came across Riding Pretty's post on her rusty true love which directed me to Craigslist for a vintage bike of my own. I bought my gently-loved Praline from an older gentleman and the rest is history.
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