knight rider
Last (well, last-last) Monday I was invited for dinner at the home of a friend who lives in Rockridge. Every time that I have visited her home before this, I had driven from my home in Frontierland. Sure, often I would stop there on my way to or from someplace completely un-bike-or-transit-able, so I had some excuse to drive, but the main reason for driving to her home over a transit or self-propelled mode of transportation is just that Rockridge seems far, much farther than it is, for whatever reason. (Ok, not whatever reason, for a complex set of reasons that I keep trying to type out but keep distracting me from the story I actually want to tell.)
But I am trying to become a more fit and healthy person, a more fit and healthy and energetic (and skinny) person. One way that I work toward this goal is by going to the gym. Another, that I do with less success, is to avoid alcohol, as a half a bottle of wine with dinner really packs in the calories, and to try to eat more home-cooked food (it’s not un-fatty, because I just don’t have a lot of willpower, but none of the fat is hidden, at least). And my third technique to becoming fit, healthy, energetic, and skinny is something I’ve learned from the fundamentalist, evangelical Christians.
Much as they suggest evaluating the ethics of every situation, from the mundane to the extreme, with the mantra: What would Jesus do? (Or the extra clever: What would Jesus drive?) I now try to evaluate my life, as much as possible, with the similar, What would a FESH do? Where FESH stands for (perhaps you’ve guessed) Fit, Energetic, Skinny, and Healthy (person). [Ok. I dont actually use the acronym in my head, I spell it out. But it's just not as pretty on the page: "What would a fit, energetic, healthy, skinny person do in this situation?" Is it?]
Based on prompting myself with this question, I have ridden my bicycle home from Berkeley, twice, and to and from the Nomad cafe, twice, and I have even started walking to the grocery store. (Sure, this means I’m more likely to go to Albertson’s (20 minute walk) than Trader Joe’s (35 minutes), but since I get most of my groceries delivered by the PlanetOrganics.com people, I’m ok with that.)
So, in this case, I said to myself, dinner in Rockridge, and I’d like to bring a bottle of wine, which will be split between only two people. What would FESH do? FESH, in this case, would clearly ride her bicycle to Rockridge. On the map, it doesn’t look that far; you eliminate any worry of driving too soon after drinking the wine; and you get to feel good about yourself, all ethical and exercise-y.
I like to think of myself as a seasoned urban cyclist. When I lived in Berkeley, I had no car and cycled everywhere. I’m comfortable, at least in theory, with turning left like a car and taking the lane in traffic. But I guess it has been a while since I’ve ridden for anything more than pleasure: before undertaking this ride to Rockridge, I consulted two different cycle-commuter friends. One to ask for a route suggestion and the other to find a good bike shop: If I was going to ride to Rockridge at 7pm, and home again at 10, I was going to need a light.*
My trip was pretty simple. Based on friend #2’s recommendation, my route was a nearly straight shot: 50 blocks on Broadway. I was looking forward to doing these 50 blocks, for I had recently learned that this was one part of Oakland slated for bike lanes and bike right of ways, if only the local bike advocates (like WOBO) could get the city council to approve that which they have already planned. I, for one, was curious to see for myself how needed bike lanes were in that part of town.**
Nearly halfway along my Broadway sojourn, I sat at a red light at Broadway and MacArthur, looking across the street to the next stretch of road. That area of Broadway is bad. Bad bad bad. It’s full of potholes. And construction barriers. And especially with the barriers, the street feels narrow, and I am without fail riding either right in front of or right behind a bus when I am at this corner. Not to mention that that is pretty much exactly where it starts being a mild uphill ride to Rockridge. No, it’s not steep, but still, it’s sweaty. And as I was looking across at the road upcoming, mentally saying, yeah, I can see why a bike lane would be useful here: It’s narrow; it’s super trafficky, all of a sudden, it was also dark.
All of the lights on the other side of the street, all of the street lamps along broadway for the next few blocks (as far as I could see anyway) went dark. And then my light turned green and I propelled myself across the street, into the dark. Good thing I got that headlight for my bicycle, eh? And good thing I opted for the extra bright one. Even so, with a lot of traffic and a lot of potholes, street lamps are a good thing. Would have been a good thing. As I rode the next few blocks, no less than three streetlamps turned on precisely as I rode underneath them. It was cool, a little like stage lighting, like I was the heroine, riding through the scary dark of Oakland but somehow still in the spotlight. It was also not really useful: you kind of need those lights to be on right before you get underneath them, so you can see before you fall into the giant pothole. But Oakland Department of Public Works: I give you points for drama, if not utility.
Oh the rest of the ride was fine. By broadway and 51st, the rest of the street lamps were on; the road had widened a bit; and I arrived at my dinner slightly sweaty but still pleased with myself for doing what the FESH would have done and taking one step toward FESH-hood. And the ride home, being slightly downhill, was even easier. The only incident of any sort happening just as I began my ride. As I was adjusting my light to aim at the road, and adjusting my shoes to be clipped in the pedals, a very well-intentioned woman walking her dog asked if I was in any trouble and if my bicycle was disabled.
So the takeaway message for today is this: it’s probably a good idea to have a light, even when you think you’re just going to be riding on well-lit city streets. Especially in Oakland, you just can’t predict anything. Also, if you’re going to have a flat tire or a broken chain, apparently Rockridge is a good place to do it.
*I used to have a light. Somewhere. Somewhere, sometime, in the last two moves, I have lost my giant halogen bike light. Do you remember those? They were all the rage in the mid nineties. Super bright halogen bike headlights with giant rechargeable batteries that either masqueraded as a water bottle or hung from the top tube with a complicated velcro contraption. I got mine after I was hit by a car and wanted to be certain that I was noticed on the street, but my boyfriend had purchased his sometime earlier for nighttime mountain bike rides. For he was (and is) clearly a FESH. My agenda this time was something different: something small, cheap, and low profile, that involved blinking leds, low battery use and easy on-off mounting to either my bicycle or my helmet. Nonetheless, the nice man at the bike store recommended by friend #1 upsold me from a single blinking LED to this: (insert picture) six LEDs in a circle powered by 3 AAA batteries (included) with a super awesome easy on-off handlebar mounting. No required overnight charges; no endless stream of Dcells; and yet, you could easily blind yourself if you look at it head on. Thank goodness for the LED revolution!
**Truth betold, friend #2 had suggested a possible alternate route from the straight line on Broadway, but he had said it wasn’t very different, and with WOBO in mind, not to mention the extra uphill of the alternate route, I stuck to Broadway.