Like most suburban kids, I grew up riding a bike (photo of Little Laura and her big glasses below for proof!). Then periodically cycled to friends’ houses and school and things as a teenager. And promptly forgot all about all things bike-related after moving to Edmonton for university.
When we lived in North Vancouver, Tony and I counted several strong cyclists amongst our close friends. Those friends and a truely awesome bike shop (shout out to Obsession: Bikes) prompted me to get a serious bicycle, complete with clip-in pedals (which proved to be the bane of my cycling existence) and proper kit. (If you look closely the jersey in the photo of me and my Trek on the Lions Gate Bridge says “North Shore Triathlon Club”, which is how we were introduced to the aforementioned strong cyclists we still call friends).
As I wrote about in my Tur-Retur column for Last Week in Denmark, I was not a natural cyclist. I never got the hang of the clip-in pedals and all-too-frequently tipped over for seemingly no reason. Perhaps the most telling aspect of my disconnect from race cycling: that Trek bicycle from Obsession never got a name.
Now that we live in Denmark again (arguably the best country in the world for bike riding), I’m back to hopping on my bike far more often. And, yes, she has a name.
Cherry Pop and I don’t go all that far. She takes me to yoga (thanks mum for the yellow and white stripped mat bag!) and, when the weather’s nice, down to the Øresund (the bit of the North Sea between Denmark and Sweden) to watch the water afterwards. We go for groceries and to the library. Sometimes Cherry Pop snuggles with Black Heart (Tony’s newest and least fancy bike) on the train as we take advantage of the amazing infrastructure that facilitates multi-modal transport.
When I’m on Cherry Pop, I get a hint of the exhilaration of being five years old and learning to pedal on two wheels. I lean into corners and coast down hills. I relish the movement my legs, prioritising free-flowing turnover instead of grinding through higher, more powerful gears. When I dismount, I feel somewhat like a princess sliding my legs to the left, landing easily first with one foot then the other. (Possibly a holdover from the elegance of alighting from a horse?)
My aversion to clip-in pedals and preference for a more comfortably upright position makes it unlikely I’ll attempt a return to serious cycle form. I’ll never be the fastest on the road (or, more accurately, the bike path), but riding a bike will continue to propel me through the Copenhagen area, getting me from point A to point B without crashing into exchange students (or anyone else, I hope!).
Read ‘Not a cyclist, but proud to ride a bike’ for Last Week in Denmark.
I am with you on the pain of clip in bike shoes. That’s how Bruce broke his hip! Lucky you to live in the best country for cycling
It is lovely to be back in the land of comfortable cycling! And not to feel the need for clip-in bike shoes — as Bruce can attest, they can be quite the challenge
How fun! So glad you found a bike that fits your comfort level, and that’s worth naming <3
Thanks Alex! Cherry Pop is a great, comfortable match for me