If you’re a super fancy experienced cyclist who’s really strong and tall, then maybe you’ve never had issues with the bike racks on Vancouver buses. But for the other 99 per cent of the population, they’re a trap: difficult to pull down, heavy, poorly greased and awkward to load. Plus, if you’re like me, and you tend to hone in on the task at hand so much so that the rest of the world falls away, then your life may be at risk while loading your bike.
A few weeks ago I went to the (now closed) Sunny Spot Café for dinner with a friend. When it was time to head home, I was tired and dreading the ride back. I had already biked all over the city that day. It would have been acceptable, perhaps even applaudable, for me to respect my body’s boundaries and bus home. But the bike rack, I thought. I would have to put my bike on the bike rack. It wasn’t worth it.
Just as I was wheeling off, though, my friend noticed something was amiss.
“Your lights,” he said. “You forgot your lights!”
It was dark. I rummaged through my three bags and 18 pockets and couldn’t find them. A sense of panic slowly descended.
I couldn’t safely ride home.
Would I have to put my bike on the bus rack?
You bet.
Since I choose to never ride far without my bike lights (I was the safety captain of my high school robotic’s team), the bus and bike rack were my subsequent fate.
My bus pulled up. Foot passengers loaded and I stepped off the curb to stand in front of the bus, the bike rack staring me down.
I’ll just yank at it real hard, I thought, and it will come down. After all, I’m 5’7” and I lift (at least once a month).
No dice. Yank, yank, yank.
Finally I got both hands involved and the blasted rack lowered.
Now to load my bike.
First, I had to make sure I was loading it into the correct slot, so that there’s room for another person’s bike. Then I had to make sure it’s facing the right direction, so it can be properly secured with a finicky, extendible, spring loaded metal arm. Oh, and I had to lift my steel frame up to about chest height. Meanwhile everyone on the bus was watching the operation, driver included.
But I did it. Kind of a big deal. Performance anxiety be gone!
I hopped on the bus with a skip, and with a confident flick of the wrist I tapped my Compass card.
But my friend was not so impressed. “Next time, make sure you don’t step out into the lane of traffic beside the bus,” he warned. “You were almost hit by a car.”
• Vicious Cycle is a new, bi-weekly column chronicling the life of a city cyclist. Stay tuned for the next one, on the etiquette of signaling.
