I’ve screamed inappropriate obscenities at little old ladies in one instance, then was a good samaritan in the next.

Cycling the environment will bring out the good, bad and indifferent in you.

Riding a bike in the city is a scary yet rewarding personal growth experience.

I’ve weaved in and out of traffic for over 30 years, cycled along nature trails, and carried my bike on the subway during rush hour.

Owning a bike (and using it) connects you to a community far more than any vehicle ever could. Mastering the elements reminds us that we’re alive and how precarious life can be.

Some of us must transport people and things long distances through harsh environments in a reasonable time frame, and a four-wheeled friend is the only viable option within your current reality.

But what if you could embrace an alternative approach to your lifestyle?

I won’t debate the negative impact of vehicular congestion. And I’m not suggesting you ditch your car and carry the kiddies in a bike hamper this winter.

Or you commute across town in a heat wave for a presentation only to arrive smelling like a can of rotten tomato soup in a drenched shirt with your fly down. (been there, done that)

There’s a balance somewhere.

“Consider a world with denser, greener cities rich with alternative transportation governed by incentives that discourage waste and reward the thrift of our limited resources. Consider a healthier lifestyle for YOU!”

Twenty years ago, I sold my car. Unfortunately, the repo man took it through an unfortunate business bankruptcy. — a story for another post. On that day, I walked to the parking garage to find my car, and all my client’s work in the trunk was gone! , Shocked, I was forced to find a new gig and a different way to get around.

In retrospect, at 40, this traumatic incident presented a turning point in my life.

What if YOU moved forward to a new paradigm on mobility?

Owning a car is a crazy, expensive, planet-destroying pain in the ass — I said it. Furthermore, I hate driving; as a creative, it requires much-wasted concentration.

Carless and recovered from my financial mishap, I learned to redesign life more bike-friendly. The savings from cycling, public transit and the occasional car rental positioned me financially to buy a beautiful 30-foot sailboat and retire from the grind much earlier than expected! As a result, my physical, mental and emotional health flourished.

“Daily walking and cycling combats depression, bolsters your immune system, slows the aging process, helps prevent diabetes, and improves sex life (I’m living proof).”

There’s always a way to shop more locally, not filling your trunk with bulk buys you don’t need across town. Believe you can survive without the 80 percent our consumer-oriented lifestyle suggests you need!

Not having a car is a great excuse to avoid visiting certain inlaws. Yea, I know it’s not easy in the suburbs — hey, then move!

How can our society transition from a car-centric world to a new model?

I get that you think you can’t live without a vehicle if you have kids. Or that your job demands one. Ok, you win, but consider this…

There were about 1.446 billion vehicles on Earth in 2022. With the population edging close to eight billion, that means 81% of humanity lives not owning a vehicle. Factor in car sharing, and you’re still at most of society getting around alternatively.

“I’m not suggesting we get rid of all cars. Instead, consider reallocating your finances and energy toward things with wheels powered by YOUR energy.”

When you do, this could happen.

One year I was cycling home uphill dressed in a suit and got caught in a sudden torrential downpour during rush hour traffic along one of Toronto’s busiest streets. I was soaked as if I had just fallen in a mucky stream.

Grime splashed in my face as cars sped inches past my left leg. I cursed and screamed, blinded by stinging raindrops while precariously dodging unpredictable potholes. — -It was a dangerous trek. Nevertheless, I was 49, in good shape, and well past a point of return.

I had to piss so badly but knew it wouldn’t make a difference if I soiled myself. I imagined the warmth to my privates a welcome relief — I was freezing.

As I passed a bunch of teenage students huddled under a giant golf umbrella, one of them yelled to me, “HARDCORE MAN’ keep going” — I think they were impressed by my recklessness and stamina — I felt like Bruce Willis in the movie Die Hard.

Their enamoured sentiment gave me the perfectly-timed encouragement to muscle my way through awful traffic.

Twenty miles away, a relative lay dying in a hospital bed from a rare form of cancer with only days left to live.

“I imagined he’d give anything to be in my shoes! I screamed to the dark sky above — Thank you, Allah; it’s so good to be alive and able to do this. George, this one is for you!” ~ Daniel-Ibrahim

“I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” — Helen Keller

Cycling will foster the best and worst as you weave through unpredictable elements.

The worst in me.

A few years back — pre-pandemic, I was innocently riding my bike to the iconic St Lawrence Market on a sunny Saturday morning.

It’s supposed to be an easy 6-kilometre downhill cycle from my home along Young Street — the north-south baseline from which street numbering is reckoned east and west Toronto (Canada).

For 30 years, I’ve been a proactive, seasoned cyclist of the urban landscape. It’s my primary mode of transportation, except for about four winter months when I walk or take public transit when not being a couch potato.

It’s also my main cardiovascular exercise routine. — aside from marathon shags with my lovi.

Like most large cities, Toronto cyclists and vehicle drivers resent each other’s existence.

Despite the increase in dedicated bicycle lanes over the years, cyclists and drivers fight for space on the roads, trying to outwit each other and gain the upper hand rushing about.

Cycling is not just a battle for bike lanes; it’s about kicking an addiction to unhealthy energy consumption by giving up the habituated convenience of cars and suburban sprawl.

Hunt or be hunted

My favourite passive-aggressive cycling trick is to creep my bike, at a red light, in front of the lead vehicle and cut them off, so they’re stuck behind me, unable to pass, succumbing to my 15-kilometre-per-hour speed in a 60 zone. — — or they can be courteous, give me enough space and avoid me altogether.

When I’m really pissed off, I’ll slow it down to a crawl or stop in the middle of the road to fiddle with my chain. (yea, I know it’s immature) — — and there’s nothing they can do about it except honk and cuss.

Sadly, if I don’t cut ahead, the vehicles at my rear will cut past once the light turns green and sandwich me between them and the curbside. — it’s nasty, so please give me the space I deserve or else (I mutter under my breath every time)!

In most jurisdictions (all of Canada), a cyclist is considered a driver/operator of a vehicle and afforded the same rights as the driver of a motor vehicle. — power to the peddle people!

So I have as much right to the roadway as anyone else. (except when emergency vehicles pass).

Nevertheless, my friends often remind me that this doesn’t give either of us the right to be dinkasoruses. (guilty)

If politicians don’t give us our safe routes, we have little choice but to take over the lane. On a rainy day, riding along the curb is dangerous, as puddles hide tire-puncturing garbage and potholes.

In the interest of safety, I have no choice but to claim the entire width for myself.

“I can only imagine what a black person would have felt after a hard day at work, forced to give up his rightful bus seat to someone else. Having less than equal rights is shameful — yesterday, today and tomorrow.”

It’s my choice.

Although I can well afford a vehicle, I prioritize the limited cashola for my 30-foot beloved sailboat docked at the Toronto Island Marina.

“Owning a cool boat can be less expensive (and more rewarding) than a car or SUV.”

Cycling around town is far better for the environment and a well-needed source of regular exercise.

Plus, I feel more connected to the community as I smile at passers bye and flip the bird at courier trucks and cabbies blocking lanes.

The problem is that cities were never designed for bikes, skateboards, or scooters (of any sort) to share the road.

Toss in the prolific expansion of uber e-bike guys delivering Big Macs to lazy f*cks, and you have a new winner-take-all extreme sport playing out on the roads.

Be smart about it.

You’ll never win an argument with the big-ass flesh-grinding wheels of a construction truck. — even if you have the right of way. At that point, it’s not about who’s correct; it’s about staying alive.

So don’t allow your misguided ego to assert dominance over a ‘road blender’ unless you want to break your mamma’s heart or be tube fed for the rest of your days.

Be wise by trying to claim your space or be rendered road kill.

Sometimes I feel like a participant in Spain’s running of the bulls (See footnote). Cycling in a big city can be tricky, weaving in and around obstacles, dodging ‘crazies,’ always looking head to avoid getting ‘doored.’

“Did you know that ‘doorings’ are among the most common and harmful bike-vehicle incidents? Every day, a passing cyclist strikes and damages a hastily opened door, damaging the bike and injuring the cyclist or exiting passenger.”

One day a cabbie absentmindedly swung open his door as I smashed into his inside panel, bent my front tire and cracked my glasses.

Luckily I was wearing a helmet as my hard head made contact with the metal frame. Nevertheless, I was visibly shaken and ready to grant him one of my nasty testosterone bitchslappings — WTF? I yelled at him in disbelief.

He jumped out and, in a profoundly apologetic tone, straightened my helmet and glasses, wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rubbed my arm as if to comfort me!

His soft, kind tone instantly shifted my state from anger to appreciation for his empathy. — Looking like Santa Claus in a croche scull cap helped his cause.

We both knew it was an honest mishap, and he owned up to it. Plus, involving the police or his employer would likely get him a hefty fine, so he sucked up big time.

He was a new immigrant, probably working 15-hour shifts to support his family. I have a soft spot for new immigrants to Canada, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

His sincere (wise) demeanour differed from what I typically see in many cabbies. After years of fighting them on the road, my default attitude is that they are evil transformers out to get me. But alas, his behaviour did not fit that mould.

Instead, he took me from an emotional state of hyper freak to a calm and courteous man in ten seconds.

Your pre-conceived negative bias towards the ‘other-person’ shifts positively when you approach a harrowing encounter with kindness, empathy and respect — that was the lesson I learned that faithful day (thank you, Allah).

Shift your perspective

The following weekend along the same route, I had three of the nastiest encounters.

First, one guy deliberately bumped me, so I punched his side door and hood with my fist, denting it to rat hell.

Then, moments later, a Bi*ch in a brand new Caddilac SUV cut me off, so I scratched the right side of her shiny new front door with my metal handlebar. So — good luck with your new thousand-dollar paint job I yelled, riding off in a huff.

Finally, on my way home, someone deliberately cut me off at an intersection, so as I passed her window, I yelled the nastiest choice of four-letter words to her.

Only to find a terrified little girl in the front seat staring at me in utter fear as she started to cry. — I felt about two feet tall and apologized to the little girl as I shamefully rode off.

Weaving through traffic brings out the worst in me. I become this scared psycho bully. One day I’ll get shot or a broken jaw if I don’t change my approach and stop being a dink.

This behaviour is not me. Do I need anger therapy? I thought…..

Who was wrong?

In all three instances, the drivers were technically and legally wrong. I can rationalize my defensive posture, but to what end?

When I got home, I felt shameful and embarrassed by my behaviour. This is not me, I thought. Upon further journaling and reflection, I realized that my overreaction came from believing these drivers contradicted my core values of fairness and courtesy (plus, my ego was at play).

Who are they to cut me off and deny me a rightful place on the road? They disrespect me…. bla bla bla -more ego bullshit.

I may have felt justified in my aggression, but the amount of negative energy and risk the trip cost me was not worth it.

Once I got home, I was a bundle of nerves. I’m not riding my bike to the market again, I thought. — too many assholes on the road (and I was one of them)

An opportunity for personal growth

“Then it hit me — wait a sec, Daniel. What if you changed your attitude and focused on a path of peace and joy?”

What if I saw cycling as merely a team sport? Like in soccer, it’s part of the game when the other guy steals the ball from you and fakes an injury to get you a penalty.

There is no need to get aggravated if you anticipate such behaviour to be part of the event and perhaps even do it yourself.

In conclusion.

Open your mind and heart to new and cheaper ways of getting around. Embrace the unpredictability. Cycling in an urban jungle will improve the quality of your life and challenge all your senses.

“If ever in Toronto during nice weather, join Ibrahim and me for a friendly cycle. We know lots of dedicated trails”

footnotes

The Running of the Bulls occurs every July 7th-14th in Pamplona, Spain. 6 Spanish fighting bulls, along with six steers, run from the Corrales de Santo Domingo to Pamplona’s Plaza de Toros (bullfight arena.) Over 1 million spectators watch thousands of runners over the eight days of the San Fermín Festival.