Don’t judge me
Now that the days are getting longer, and the temperature a little warmer, I’ve re-committed to riding the bike regularly, even if it’s just to Starbucks and back. I had forgotten how many odd looks people can so freely give.
I get it. I look ridiculous wearing a bright red helmet, on a bike with large saddle racks on the back (with my laptop bag sticking out the top).
But riding my bike is a conscious choice. I have a car. I have a motorcycle. Neither are as eco- or health-friendly as my bike, and while it may not be “cool,” neither is the stripped-down, 1995 Honda Civic that transports the guy giving me the stink-eye. And to the young-uns that like to point and laugh: I’ll respect your opinion when your old enough to drive. If you choose to walk then, I’ll even laugh with you.
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I hate the sad looks people give when they hear you are riding around. I love my trike and ride it because I want to, but it shouldn’t matter. You shouldn’t have to make excuses for making a healthy decision.
Oh, a trike sounds fun. I think people would be much more accepting if we the city were more community-oriented; the fact that transportation by bike is odd in any way is a negative result of sprawl.