An Extension of Yourself

Waiting for a friend - with a bike
The funny thing about the beauty of Copenhagen's bike culture is that it's not just about the act of riding your bike. I'm often struck by how our bikes here are extensions of ourselves. We are inseperable mates and they are with us in virtually every situation imaginable.
Waiting for a friend - with a bike
The irony is that most of us don't love our bikes or elevate them to the status that pets enjoy by keeping them indoors, oiling them lovingly, collecting them, keeping them clean. They are reduced to mere objects. Mechanical contraptions that are only kept near us because they can transport us, somewhat magically, from A to C via B with the greatest of ease. And yet we can't live without them. Like above, they are a bench on which to rest while waiting for a friend on a city square. I'm quite sure the girl in the photo didn't think, "Wonderful! My faithful bike can be used to sit on while I wait!"

She just sat on it, like a reflex. A given.

Waiting for a friend - with a bike
Even though your bike will offer you the sensation of flying and freedom of movement through a bustling capital city and even though you may feel a pang of particular thrill on sunny spring mornings or icy winter afternoons after a day indoors, you rarely attribute it to the anonymous vechicle beneath you. It just is.


Walking through the city - with a bike
On occasion you have to dismount and walk your bike. Across zebra crossings or down pedestrian streets. Checking text messages or smoking a cigarette or carrying a coffee is done while pushing the bike along. You ignore it, basically. It doesn't exist. And yet it is a fifth limb. An extension of yourself. You are one with it.

Waiting for a friend - with a bike
I've heard about this fixed gear fad in other countries and I often hear the same praise about these bikes. That you are in total control of the machine and it is an aesthetic experience to ride them. Fair enough. But all that sounds a bit like a macho wild west cowboy thrilled at breaking a feisty mare. Fine for some.

In a bike culture, however, I don't believe that the bike is considered a creature to be tamed. It is not a creature at all. It is a thing. An object. It can be an objet d'art, gorgeously designed, but it is still an objet. In many ways, the way we regard our bikes is similar to the very basic concepts of the famous Danish design tradition: Simplicity, functionality, informal elegance and a respect for materials and resources.

Using a bike as a wardrobe or a walk-in closet
Don't get me wrong. I love bikes. I just prefer seeing how people use them and seeing people using them instead of looking at the bike. I'm no militant environmentalist but the sight of 100+ bikes waiting for the bike traffic lights to change in rush hour makes me giddy. Or just the sight of someone leaning on a bike to eat a sausage on their way home:

Or eating lunch with their bike next to them:



Posting a letter - with a bike

Shopping at a flea market - with a bike
It is, in some way, the 'culture' in bike culture that thrills me. The bike is a tool of liberation from automotive traffic just as it was a tool of liberation for women and the working classes in Bicycle Culture 1.0 over a century ago. It is a functional and viable transport form in urban centres over a century later in Bicycle Culture 2.0. It's an extension of ourselves and a symbol of environmental change. It's all that and more.

But it is just a bike. I prefer to admire and regard the people who use that bike. They make the difference.