My use of bicycles developed organically out of my desire
for freedom and independence. As a child growing up on Long Island,
a single-speed Schwinn Breeze was my transportation, getting me to my
friends’ houses. My bike allowed me to explore surrounding neighborhoods
and nearby towns. By age twelve, it was making an economic difference
in my life, for I was a paper girl for Newsday. Little did I know nor
did my parents realize that I was an adolescent vehicle owner with transportation
as sophisticated and as personal as an automobile.
When I was a teenager, I moved to Greenwich Village. The bike continued
to play a significant role in my life. I tooled around the city as I
pleased, exploring this vibrant town. I didn’t worry too much
about traffic or theft, the pluses of city riding seemed to outweigh
the minuses.
In my 20’s I got a job for a short time as a bike messenger. I
felt powerful as one of the few women out there. After my first day,
I was surprised to find my face and legs covered with soot.
I enjoyed the challenge of beating the system with my bike. I found
it to be the quickest and cheapest way to get around town, go to work
or do errands. I figured out that I didn’t need a car to get to
the beach house I shared one summer — I could take my bike on
the Long Island Rail Road and ride there. On another escapade, my friend
Martin and I took our bikes on Metro North and explored rural Westchester
County, camping in a county park. Later I learned that what I was doing
(bringing bikes on trains) was called intermodal access.
For the next two years, I volunteered as an editor of Transportation
Alternatives’ newsletter, City Cyclist. I absorbed everything
I could about bikes, bicycling and cycle politics. I went on long rides
with local cycling clubs; my quadriceps grew. I gained the knowledge
of the roads and bridges of my city. In the summer of 1994, I rode across
England solo, 500 miles in 10 days, testing my physical — as well
as navigational — skills.
As I worked with the folks at Transportation Alternatives, I became
aware of how our lives are dominated by the automobile: by advertising,
noise, fumes, crime and accidents, and the amount of public space given
over to the car. I discovered the immense cost we pay for cars. I realized
that not owning a car can free you from the nine to five trap, giving
you economic freedom to put your energies into activist causes you believe
in. My reasons for riding a bike grew to mean freedom from the automobile
hegemony.
If you want to ride a bike in New York City, think about the many ways
it can benefit you, and do it any way you can! I’ve met many who
have learned to ride as adults, and others who have only recently started
riding in the City. It’s all possible here. I share my story with
you in the hopes that it will inspire you as you find your own (bike)
path.
Zoe Waldron is a bicycle rider living in Greenwich
Village.
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