one, twice, three times…

This is the second time in a week that I have felt compelled to quote the inimitable Lionel Richie (touring here, I see), because this has been a lady-kind-of week, what with the 100 year anniversary of International Women’s Day, this bike week lady ride thing and me being a lady.

So settle in folks with your cup of tea because this could be a long post. Both because I’m typing away in my new favourite loved spot at the library (the books! the view! the airconditioning!) and because it can sometimes take me a while to get off my occasional hobby horse of women and riding and etc.

(Alternatively, you may read about what’s happening for men and riding and etc.)

Anyways, for those aware/who care, I’ve been trying to find my place in the Brisbane cycling atmosphere, although mainly that consists of me trying to work out just how early I have to leave before I’m too hot to ride at all. In the aim of trying before I’m buying, I went along to the Bicycle Queensland Lady Ride Thing from Newspapers People. (see previous post for correct link).

It was somewhere not close to my house, so we packed the bikes on the car and went there, through some slightly off-puting rain to arrive a place which is close to the beach and seems to have regular cyclists that go there. You know the kind of place, foreshore, coffee shop, men gossiping on carbon road bikes, occasional road rage, nice view if there’s no wind. Sweet.

And then, the small but quality contingent of lady riders commenced the clear the COBWEBS (cranky old bastards with expensive bikes)  and somewhere along the Ted Smout Bridge, the coastal bike path to Woody Point, the Deagon Deviation bike path, past the Deagon Racecourse back to the Bowls Club I learnt/remembered several things afresh about women and riding and etc and why I think that the combination of such is so grand.

In no particular order or sense, these things are:

1. I could have gone on the 40km ride. Arguably, keeping a 25km/h average pace is not that difficult, even on a single speed and I totally low balled myself on that offer. And again, if I’m going to be too wimpy to go ride with a group of women on a social, community organised type events just because I’m not sure if they’ll all be on expensive road bikes then clearly I am a long way off joining a competitive cycling club. Luckily this is not my goal, but when I think about the barriers to more women riding, I just keep thinking I wish I hadn’t waited until I was 28 to get a bike because I might have been a bit more confident at it by now. X marks the spot however, my ride is my ride and I had a lovely time on it. At on the 40km ride, I’d have had less energy to ride up and about chatting to people about their experiences and meeting new people.

2. Sometimes there is too much lycra. Like, what are we thinking? It’s 25km, it’s a light Sunday morning, we’d all be just fine with regular clothes if we don’t own, don’t like, don’t want to wear lycra. I like wearing lyrcra, weirdly enough, but it’s not mandatory. Strangely enough though, as our long community type line of riders snaked along the foreshore, someone (man) yelled out from their zipping bunch, “not enough lycra, ladies!”, which for me shows only that this person had missed Sheriden. Who clearly looked just like a terribly relaxed happy cyclist and – to be frank – she is not sponsored by HTC Columbia, probably doesn’t much care who Mark Cavendish is, and has made a perfect outfit choice for a social, community ride.  Bit of suncream and we’ll all be happy, right? (As an aside, some other weird dude yelled later, “keep to the left ya silly bitches” which I just think is way unnecessary. But I digress. How much nicer to think of Sheriden and her happy riding attire.)

3. Some ladies just look natural on bikes. Notorious E.V.E looks natural on a bike, the Sally Cat looks natural on a bike, my lady Jess looks natural on a bike (and on and on and on) and there’s no actual set rhyme or reason to why a lady looks natural on a bike. Just some people do. Case in point, Emma. Like, sure, I eat things that magically appear out of my back while riding a bike all the time natural. Lucky too, because Emma is from Epic Cycles and if she didn’t at least look natural on a bike it might be less compelling when she showed us how to change our own tires. Looking natural on the bike totally assists when one has just scared the bejesus out of a room of ladies at a bowls club by exploding a CO2 canister.

4. Silver is the new black. I say this because, in talking with this S Fox, I was reminded again that the hottest helmet is not the expensive Giro, or the lolly pink Catlike – it is the helmet that is worn. That is on the bike, that is getting about, that is doing things, riding places, seeing stuff, meeting people and totally living life in an active, engaged and healthy way. Top work. I commit now to never dying my hair so I can one day be an S Fox and go on good fun bike rides such as this. This – I believe – would be about a million times more rewarding than my grandmother’s retirement which I believe was spent chasing after my grandpa, making him cups of tea and chainsmoking in the kitchen. I loved my nanna more than words can say, but I don’t want to live her life. Nor do I think she would have wanted me to.

5. I remember now why I wanted to get married in a bowls club, back in the day when I was going to get married in a bowls club. Firstly, so that I could be watched over by special ladies such as these, so that I could indulge in my secret desire to write on a wedding invitation “ladies bring a plate, gentlemen bring a slab” and to nominate the dress code as “Bowling Whites” asking guests to “be prepared for Brides vs Grooms Barefoot Bowls”.

Oh, and so I could come down the aisle on one of these.

6. Just about every woman I know has had a bad experience of being laughed at a bike store. Luckily, with good humour and good company, women are prepared to laugh about it.

For my quiet money though, it’s nice to remember that your customers spend money which keeps the whole thing spinning around and if a lady comes in and she doesn’t know her presta from her pista well, your nanna would probably be really ashamed of you if you laughed, or were condescending, or dismissive because she just wanted some piece of Taiwanese crap, or if she couldn’t change her own tires (and hey, did you know you can do this without levers? something new every day) and so – in favour of a more lovely, karmically generous arrangement, if people in bike stores could be a. more frequently women, and/or b. men who are more frequently happy to assist demystifying the bike, then that sounds great to me.

This is all I learnt that day.

(PS You’d be forgiven for thinking I was prejudiced against bikes with gears and the people that ride them. I’m not. I’m just jealous and too short for a 56.)