On bikes and theiving

Today I did something here that I never thought I'd do here in China.

I bought a bike.

I haven't ridden much since university. I am not a superb rider, and I always felt somewhat off-balance, not fully in control perched on two wheels. And up until last June, I thought I could manage to get everywhere I wanted to go in my city either on foot, by public transit, or in a taxi.  

And then someone loaned me a friend's bike so that we could get somewhere faster.

And that's when I realized how easy it was.

Which sounds kind of strange, considering the sporadic driving and the unwritten rules that state cars can stop and park anywhere they want - even in designated bike lanes - and have the right of way at all times. In a battle between cars and bikes, the car wins every time due to its sheer size alone.

And if you try to avoid the craziness by riding on the sidewalk, well, pedestrians, scooter drivers and even some cars are doing the Exact. Same. Thing.

And I forgot to mention the donkey carts.

So yes, it's crazy.  

But still, it shortens the commute time and doesn't give me an excuse to stay home because something is just too far away.

 

As a result, I went to the store with a co-worker and we each bought a bike today.  Mine is dark blue with pink writing.  It came with fenders for the wheels, a rack on the back, and I bought a basket for it.  

And to think that, as a child, I found these things on bikes to be very uncool.  But now, it means I can ride through puddles of questionable liquids without getting sprayed. I can get groceries and not have to lug them on my back or hang them from my handlebars. And, if I really want to, I can give a ride to someone else.  Though that doesn't look very comfortable ...

It's probably very cheaply made (after all, the bike alone cost a little less than 50 bucks), it has no gear shift options, but it gets the job done. So I'm happy.

Funny story: when I was riding home from the store, zipping and zooming around all kinds of interesting traffic, my phone rang.  My Canadian upbringing made me hesitate and think about the wisdom of answering, but I managed to pull my phone out, answer it and talk for a couple minutes, all the while negotiating the various road conditions.

I feel as though, after that one, I can conquer anything. 

The purchasing of said bike was quite an adventure, too. I picked out a bike (after checking to make sure the brakes worked), brought it over to a man who put air in the tires and straightened anything that was crooked - and traded it for another bike when I realized it made a clicking sound I didn't like (A student's parent just happened to be in the store at the time, and she helped big time with the translation!) - and then found out that they didn't sell locks or baskets.  

I'd heard that there was a man who stationed a cart under a bridge near the store who specialized in bike accessories and repairs, so I decided to try and find him.  But before we could get to him, I had to pay for the bike and get an official receipt to be able to return the bike in case anything went wrong (the one printed at cash is always insufficient for this. I don't get it!).

Anyway, this "man under the bridge" (not a troll, by the way) was very friendly and helpful.  Soon, we were on our way and quite happy - albeit tired.

My bike is currently locked up in a room in the basement of my building.  And you would think that, when I say "Locked up," my bike is currently locked to a bike rack in the basement, behind some sort of closed (possibly locked) door.

But it's not.  First off, the door that leads to the basement is wide open. There are no other doors anywhere.  And somehow, I'm supposed to be able to walk up a flight of stairs leading to the main entrance and the rest of the building, which means anyone who doesn't know the buzz code can get in.  But a lightbulb was out and I just didn't feel like slamming into concrete walls trying to find it.  

Second, there is no bike rack. And there is nothing rack-like in the basement to lock the bike to; no pipes, no trees, no parking meters, no telephone poles, no nothing.

So what's a person to do? Well, I do what everyone else does; I weave my lock through the back wheel and around the frame so that the bike is virtually un-ride-able. This way, bikes, much like cars, can be parked pretty much anywhere. It's pretty neat, actually.

I know, according to the North American mindset, this is a little strange.  "But what if someone cuts the lock?  Or carries your bike away?"

I want you to think about something.  Lock cutters are pretty big and cumbersome. With 7 million people in this city, someone is bound to notice that someone's carrying them around, never mind using them.  As for carrying the bike away, lock and all, it's not like it can be hidden under someone's shirt or in a knapsack, so this is bound to attract some attention.

Besides, I live in a guarded apartment complex, with guards who are somewhat careful about who they let in, and they do tend to question suspicious looking behaviour.

So I think I'm alright. Though I still found myself checking outside my friend's place today to make sure my bike hadn't disappeared.