My boyfriend’s move from San Francisco to Brooklyn last fall meant downsizing his outdoor gear collection. Out went the tents, skateboards, and a couple of bikes – a racing bike and a city bike – in addition to his motorcycle. He’s an outdoors enthusiast, a stark contrast to my indoor preferences, and that first New York winter was a tough adjustment for him. In California, his vacations revolved around epic 150-mile bike rides, and weekends kicked off with breezy trips to Ocean Beach, looping back through the scenic Golden Gate Park. Come February and March, biking was all he could talk about. These bike-centric reminiscences were often punctuated with reminders that he’d relocated East after I’d jokingly dismissed the idea of moving West. In the grand gesture department, I was significantly behind.
Then came late spring, and with it, the arrival of the Citi Bike sharing program in New York. Suddenly, all he envisioned was us riding those iconic blue bikes together in the sunshine. I found myself struggling to come up with a valid excuse to decline. The minor detail that I had never actually learned to ride a bike seemed inconsequential to him. He enthusiastically volunteered to teach me, echoing the well-intentioned offers of beaus past. However, the idea of a grown woman humbling herself in such a vulnerable learning process felt inherently wrong. I am a 33-year-old woman, and he certainly isn’t my father figure.
It was during one of my jogs around Brooklyn Bridge Park – chosen for both the cardio and the strategic apocalypse escape route planning opportunities – that I noticed a sign for adults-only bike-riding classes. Intrigued, I signed up online. A week later, on a Saturday morning at 10 a.m., I found myself among about twenty other adults, all waiting for a two-hour session led by an instructor and a team of helpful volunteers, ready to embark on the journey of Learning To Ride A Bike.
The group assembled for the adult bike riding class was remarkably diverse. We could have easily been extras in a movie scene depicting a bustling airport waiting area, a community college lecture hall, or even a snapshot of a vibrant outer borough in a Spider-Man film. Ages ranged considerably, there were a couple of pairs of partners, and the majority of students were people of color, with only three exceptions. There was even someone proudly sporting a Mets baseball cap.
