guerrilla curatorship

It is important to periodically remind oneself that one can, in fact, handle it.

I’ve been so worried about fitting in on the road with my new bike. It’s been a long time since I rode a bike, owing partly to childhood scarring from overzealous cyclist dad, and I have some residual confidence issues with my ability to competently operate a bicycle. And even though I’ve long been a supporter of the whole bike culture (transit not traffic! etc!) it’s only recently that I’ve embraced the actual act of bicycling. This is 90% due to my fresh new bike (!) and the dude who gave it to me, and 10% due to a hike in my maturity level and the realization that someone who proselytizes the car-free lifestyle really needs to diversify her mobility options, no matter how awesome her facility with public transit is (and it is razorsharp. Nobody does Muni like I do.)

So, I signed up for the Bike Coalition’s free road skills 101 course, and spent last Saturday riding around my neighborhood with an instructor and a dorky orange vest. And, amidst all the learning, I was delighted to discover that I already know how to ride a bike! Similarly, I started commuting to work on the bike the other day. I had been reticent to start doing this, worried that I wouldn’t be able to hang with the badass Real Biker Crew up and down Market Street. To say nothing of evil motorists and scary traffic. But, I’ve been similarly delighted to discover that I’m not at all intimidated, by any of it. I find the presence of other bikes to be more reinforcing than alienating, and feel surprisingly empowered in relation to cars and other big vehicles. This morning the 5-Fulton cut me off twice on Market between 4th and 2nd; the first time I waited patiently behind him and the second, I scooted past him in the two feet of clearance between bus and median, and waved, smiling, “Good morning asshole!” (What a strange feeling, to be adversarial with a trolley bus, something I usually think of akin to Falkor from Neverending Story. Muni: my big gentle orca ferrying me home through the sea of traffic. And now, what am I? A little self-propelled minnow, looking out for number one.)

Marveling at how easy, freeing, and physically salutary this biking thing is, I thought, “This is just like Amsterdam, but I know exactly where I’m going!” And it’s true. I’m so stoked on this fresh perspective of a place I know like my own body. Let’s do this, city streets! Next stop, critical mass! Also, if anyone knows how I can arrive at work sans the fucked up hair, please leave it in the comments!