Glass Half Full: Riding dirty
Endangered cyclists demand equal rights to the road
By Traci Cox, staff writer
Posted on November 30, 2006

I am not one of the bourgeoisie that rule the road with their gas-guzzling tanks. My working-class soul can only afford a bicycle. Like many poor (yet startlingly fit) students, I rely on my bicycle for transportation. But recently, as I’ve cruised around campus, I’ve been paranoid I’ll end up twisted in a festering mess of metal and flesh, drowning helplessly while facedown in a pothole.

It’s ridiculous. This semester, I’ve been nearly pummeled by a car three times. As in any typical near-death situation, my life flashed before my eyes, though I was shocked to discover that my last thought was, “If only I invested in more reflective gear.” This ignoramus had the nerve to honk at me as I plunged into a prickly hedge as he yelled something inaudible (but probably despicable) over his deafening rap music.

Many think of biking as a childish endeavor that ends with the rite of passage a license grants. Yet ponder the greats who are still riding proud: Lance Armstrong is a pedaling celebrity, and Queen sang a ballad about it. Drivers everywhere may look down upon us from their skyscraper-high, air-conditioned seats, but in reality, although we’re sweating profusely, we are the cool ones.

Of course, in these man-versus-machine situations, it’s always the biker’s fault. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, “Get on the sidewalk!” I’d be filthy rich. As any frequent biker will tell you, walkways are littered with daydreaming pedestrians, curbs and cracks. You may yell, exasperated from the physical output and bricks in your backpack, “on your left!” but naturally the sulking student in front of you has his or her ears plugged with headphones. Bushes, hedges, fences and posts also pose potentially embarrassing and painful situations.

Thus, the street is literally the only avenue, though there is certain protocol all bikers on campus should follow. Wear your helmet. Don some fashionable reflective gear. Use hand signals (politically correct ones, that is) and ride with a light at night.

Some common sense: a helmet won’t prevent you from getting hit by a car. A bicyclist’s No. 1 goal should be to avoid collision in the first place. Riding while chatting on your cell phone or stuffing your face with a donut with a “hey, look at me, Mom, no hands!” attitude gives biking a bad wrap. Running red lights and riding down the middle of the road are also rude and just plain stupid. Michael Bluejay of Bicyclesafe.com offers 10 situations to avoid, from the “Crosswalk Slam” to the daunting “Red Light of Death.”

While we have as much right to the road as automobiles, the Harrisonburg area is not especially bike-friendly. Few roads have designated bike lanes, and those that do end abruptly and merge into a traffic-congested road anyway. Unfortunately, while the thought of integrating my very own spray-painted bike lane has seemed appealing, it wouldn’t change the attitude of malicious bike-haters in Harrisonburg. It’s our responsibility as cyclists to be safe and courteous on the road, but it’s also critical that motor vehicles do the same.

In the commotion of life, classes beckon and jobs call out like a spitting, red-faced football coach for hustle. I’m also in a hurry; sadly, I can only pedal so fast. And you driving on my tail and honking at me is only going to make me slower as I turn around to give you a look of menacing hatred. Let’s transcend this rigid class system of thrifty versus privileged, fit against lazy, environmentally friendly opposed to global warmers. It would surely make our campus a safer place to ride, in leather temperature-controlled comfort or on a banana seat. Or, I guess we could always walk.

Traci Cox is a sophomore English major.