15 Reasons I Like My Bike

Bike travel was new to me upon my arrival in The Netherlands. Sure, I could ride a bike. Learned how when I was six, thank you very much. But never in my life had I used a bike as means of getting somewhere. A bicycle was used for play when I was young and when I was older, for exercise. It never occured to me to view it as anything other than the thing I used to get my heart rate up a couple of times per week. In fact, if I were telling the whole truth--and I am--I would have to state that the bike I owned in Arizona gathered more dust than it did miles.

But that's not my story anymore.

In my archives you will find some of my early impressions of the native Dutch and their prowess on the bicycle. Also stored there are confessions of my own you-couldn't-call-it-prowess-you-might-not-even-call-it-skill experiences on a bike. But I am proud to say, I have learned a little something along the way. Though still not as skillful or as artful as a Nederlander, I can ride well.

I like to ride.

And I like my bike.

I'll give you 15 reasons why.

1. It's old,

2. a little rusty,

3. and has been painted by hand to cover the rough spots.

4. The frame is a little bent,

5. a couple of spokes are missing from the wheels,

6. and only half of the chain cover exists.

7. It is sturdy and sure.

8. Painted the same blue as the night sky after sunset, but before real darkness falls, I purchased it for less than 150 euros.

9. I bought it the same day my husband graduated from Leiden University with his LLM in Public International Law (with a specialization in International Criminal Law).

10. That was last August. We had just moved to The Hague after a year of study and frugal student living in Leiden.

11. It felt extravagant to spend 150 euros on anything, let alone a bike.

12. Andrew's seat is strapped to the back.

13. I have a basket in the front.

14. You wouldn't believe the quantities I can carry inside that basket.

15. On the seat of my bike I am free to come and go as pleases me. I never have to wait in traffic and when I am tired of pedaling, I can lift my feet, swing my legs wide, and coast along, feeling the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.

I ask you, what's not to like about that?

Friday Fifteen