Two Wheels are Better than None: Ruthless Rant & Rage

by Rachel Godward

I swerve to avoid the Mack truck as it barrels past my left side, inches from sending me six feet under. My bicycle seems to breathe a sigh of relief as my racing heart slowly returns to normalcy. I search for concerned faces on the street, peering out of car windows, or something. Alas, no one saw a thing. Surrounded by pick-up trucks with super-sized rims and vans that could fit a small country inside, bicyclists become almost invisible on the busy brick streets of Athens. And unfortunately, our wheeled friends have nowhere else to turn.

Only a few streets on campus actually have bike lanes, and none of these is particularly busy. I live on East State — the scene of the Mack attack — and being the main route to the pseudo-civilization that Wal-Mart provides, cars whiz around pretty quickly. And yes, it really was a Mack truck; I wish I could say I was exaggerating.

Perhaps it would have saved me that single gray hair I swear I sprouted that day. Our campus, beautiful as it may be, was clearly not laid out with bicyclists in mind. The bumpy, narrow streets and shoulders packed tightly with cars make two-wheeled travel unsafe and unaccommodating. Even the perfectly smooth sidewalks are incessantly stamped with “No biking/skateboarding” signs. It’s like bikers are seen as an infestation of rebels, associating with rebellious people and spreading their rebellious behavior all over town. “Stay away! Or we’ll send law enforcement after you!” Really, they will.

I appreciate all that the Athens Police Department does for us students — saving lives, catching criminals, busting parties … but is chasing down bicyclists really necessary?

Of the several times I have biked on the sidewalk, for fear of getting run over on the street, an officer has puffed up his chest, flashed his badge, and yelled at me; each time screaming that same disgusted phrase: “Get off the sidewalk with that bike!”

Even meter maids get in on the action, and believe me; they do not like to be sassed. It doesn’t matter if you’re rolling along at the speed of a turtle, pedals untouched; I once did exactly this and was yelled at by an angry, quarter-collecting upholder of the law. On the phone at the time, I mentioned the situation to my friend, only to be immediately answered with an offended reply. She yelled even louder to say, “I was not yelling at you!” Apparently she overheard my conversation — an astounding feat since I was nearly 20 feet away and whispering.
They respond to my biking as though I’ve decided to play dress up in their Sunday best and then roll around in a mud bath. Now that would be yell-worthy. But as one measly bicyclist— what harm am I really causing?
I like to think I’m a pretty easy-going girl; if you give me bike lanes I will gladly use them. But a short lane from Bentley to Baker and another from Buffalo Wild Wings to the Convocation Center simply aren’t enough. With as many bicyclists as there are on campus, we need to get a little love — love in the form of bike lanes. Some of us cannot afford cars, or got the short end of the stick when relatives passed on cars to everyone else but us. Biking is a common form of transportation and should be respected as such.

I say we start a petition. (“We” meaning bikers, friends of bikers, spouses of bikers, and acquaintances of bikers who really can’t stand bikers, but support them anyway, for some reason). Let’s rally the troops calmly and rationally, sans screaming, and hope to someday bike among peaceful pastures — void of bitter law enforcement and with bike lanes aplenty.