Adam Pieniazek blogs from Dorchester and helps consults businesses on their web strategy at The 42nd Estate. He enjoys bicycling around Boston and reminiscing about the greatest TV show of all time, Battlestar Galactica.

For over a year, I have not owned a car. Many people find it odd and think my transportation methods must be inconvenient. In reality, not owning a car has given me far greater independence than owning a box on four wheels ever did.

Bicycling is economical

When people discover this fact about my life, they near immediately recognize that there are benefits to riding a bicycle or taking the T. For one, there’s a clear economic advantage. Say goodbye to gas bills, insurance bills, maintenance costs, and the lost opportunity cost of wasting time sitting in traffic.

Sure, a bicycle has its own costs, but in comparison to the near fortune spent on car ownership, they’re nearly negligible. Of course, the T is not free, but I have some credits built up from previous jobs, and friends and family with monthly passes that are handed to me when they’re not in use. Even with the occasional out of pocket T ride, I save tons of money riding the T and my bike instead of driving.

But, that’s not why I rock the two wheeled, human powered pedaling machine.

Biking is green

Many people commend me for being green. They say riding my bicycle is great for the environment, and they often ponder that they’d love to bike too but can’t because they have kids, a long commute, an office job, are scared of cars, and many other excuses.

I often end up telling these people that it’s simply not that hard, scary, or impractical. It’s often faster, easier, and safer to ride a bicycle than a car. I can bypass traffic, park anywhere, and my health and reaction skills improve enough that any risks of getting hit by a car are offset by the gains. While, riding my bicycle and ditching the car is a net WIN for the environment (it’s not a 100% green, factories do produce these bikes), in the end, it’s not my primary motivation for biking either.

The bicycle: Giver of freedom, energy, and life

When my behind hits the seat and my feet step on the pedals, my mood immediately changes. A smile begins to emerge on my face. As my legs start rotating, a wave of energy comes over me. As the air hits my face and my senses awaken to the smells and sounds around me, I feel truly alive.

It’s a pure natural high that is sustainable and good for you. Sometimes it pushes me to pedal as fast as I can, sometimes it makes me sing and yell out (if you ever hear a biker fly by singing “aaahoooo werewolves in london”, that’s me) and sometimes it just puts a big wide grin on my face that must make me look partially insane to the walkers and drivers of the world.

The freedom to hop on my Shogun and pedal to anywhere, without concern of cost or traffic jams, is why I bike. There’s no other vehicle that comes close to putting your independence directly in your hands (and feet). You completely control where you go and when you get there.

As a writer (amongst other professions), a bike ride usually ends up invigorating me and lets me flesh out ideas. When I get home, my mind is clear and ready to focus. Even when going to social events, pedaling there leaves me filled with pure elated bliss. And when it’s time to go, there’s no worry about flagging a cab or waiting for the train or finding the parking spot, I hit the road and go on my way.

Other bicyclists around the city constantly repeat this mantra to me. Pedaling fills them with life and leaves them refreshed and ready to take on the challenges of the world. This feeling of independence and the energy of life is why I bike.

I am one of the rare cycling enthusiasts who dreads bike shops.  In fact, I view visits as I would trips to the dentist’s office – I suppose that makes mechanics into bicycle doctors in my mind.  Interestingly enough, admitting that local bike shops are hospital-like public resources might make them more sustainable in the internet sales age.

The traditional LBS has a lot going for it.  It holds a useful monopoly on bike repairs and the purchase of bikes I’d actually want to ride; it also provides a location for expertise, impulse buys, and community building.   I have watched my local shop hook my classmates on cycling, and another offer patient puncture repairs to a squadron of pre-teens rolling in on their BMX hogs.  Obviously, a shuttered LBS is a loss to the community.

What it doesn’t do well is sell cycling-related merchandise at prices competitive with those available on the Internet.  Two experiences stand out in my mind:  (1) Last year, I rolled into a shop on a bike shod with a new set of racing wheels.  After informing the proprietor of the wheels’ e-provenance, I was promptly lectured that I should have bought from them, the LBS.  Why did I buy from the internet when I could have purchased the same thing locally?  Easy – I saved $250, that’s why.  (2) Yesterday, I walked into my other LBS, the sponsor shop, to purchase some stuff.  Even after a team discount, I was amazed how much they charged for stuff offered for less everywhere else – including at LBS #1.  I knew that I was overcharged, but I did my duty and bought stuff anyway.  What a drag.

But what kind of duty is this?  It seems that cyclists are obliged to pay more than they are absolutely required in order to subsidize our bike shop’s existence.  It’s hard to imagine walking into any other kind of store and uncorking this kind of consumer behavior – unless you’re a true elitist who insists on organic shopping. (joke?)  It’s monetary charity towards a good cause – a cycling community – without the tax deduction.

Why don’t we make this charitable arrangement official?  An LBS membership of a more-than-nominal sum of say, $25-50, in return for internet-level pricing and fringe benefits such as front-of-the-queue repairs, would bring purchasing home without having to resort to uncompetitive pricing and bruised feelings for those on the periphery of the chum circle.  Of course, the guy who walks in off the street can pay sticker price.  REI does a version of this, and nobody complains – and nobody’s trying to “support” REI!  I’d love to move more volume through my LBS without having to emotionally justify my “contribution” each time – I’d probably spend about the same amount of money, but I’d feel much better about handing it over.

Also work on the snobbery, and I’ll be a LBS convert.

……………..

But as much as I dislike LBS snobbery, there is definitely a community benefit to strictly enforcing a no department store bike repair policy.  I snapped this photo in front of a library of a community in which this policy has been in place for years.  Beaters perhaps, but there was not a department store bike to be seen.

Behold the future.

If there’s a state that can fail to run with Mr. Obama’s gravy train, it’s Rhode Island.

Knowing that a great day like today might convince me to do something wild, I took a hemi-slick Sir Stumpy out onto the streets of Providence.

A few miles in, I followed a procession of cars into the beautiful Swan Point Cemetery.  As nice and as historic as the Blue Hills Cemetery is, biking is allowed there, as long as it’s done respectfully.  Biking is NOT allowed next door at the Butler (Psychiatric) Hospital.

Then I decided to check out the recreational development on the south side of College Hill.  India Point Park was bustling with families and picnicking lovers (it would have been creepy to photograph them kanoodling).

Lo and behold, I saw a very welcoming entrance arch to the jewel of Rhode Island – the East Bay Bike Path.

Normally, the I-195 Washington Bridge connects India Point Park in Providence to East Providence.  Unfortunately, construction on I-195 had diverted bicycle traffic north to the rickety Henderson Bridge.  The last time I’d checked, the reconnection was supposed to happen in February.  Was it?

Nope.

I was reading Exploded Hub’s post on bike theft when I considered how difficult it is to elevate the status of cycling in a society in which you can get by without a bicycle.

Horse theft was a capital offense in the Old West because the horse represented an individual’s lifeline in a setting in which there simply were no other transportation options.  Today, automobiles nearly fit that role.  If your bike dies, there’s a car to pick you up.

It seems that the ideological goal of cycling advocacy is to elevate cyclists to “separate but equal” status.  A problem (aside from the obvious) is that not all bicycle users wish to be “cyclists.”  Cyclists love bikes and will go to the mattress for their passion.  Or obsess over suspension pressures and custom paint jobs.  Then there are people who ride bikes because that’s what they have.  This leads to a bit of a perception problem:

If cycling advocates work their tails off to get dedicated cycling lanes and oblivious bicycle riders use them incorrectly, who ends up with pie on the face?  Clearly, infrastructure improvements are meant for the uninitiated as much as they are for enthusiasts.  But would there be justice in trying to self-police bicycling behavior?  Even the obvious differences in SES creates philosophical obstacles.  And what can we do about our gangs of BMX-equipped teens who swarm on sidewalks?  Or the hard-working bearded bike messenger who sprints through red lights?  Tough.

Tangential question – many wheels are stolen in Boston; where would one go to purchase a stolen beater wheel?    I imagine the total number of wheels to bikes that need them works out to nearly a zero-sum game.  It’s hard to imagine that there’s an inner-city cycling squad that requires replacements of beater wheels that are regularly ridden into oblivion.  And if this team exists, are they also cycling enthusiasts?  Hrmmm?