The Five Cycling Senses - Sound

Listen up. It's time for the fifth sense in The Five Cycling Senses Series - Sound. Just as in the Smell post, we'll dance happily over the noise that motorized traffic produces by sticking our fingers in our ears and singing, "Lalala, I can't hear the cars!".

Bikes, by the nature of their design, are often quite silent as they roll through town. When you ride with so many other cyclists in Copenhagen, however, your ears are tuned to the sound - or non-sound - of other bikes. Your hearing adapts, dog-like, to the noise of a bike coming up from behind, even next to three lanes of cars. In the photo above, I'll bet the cyclists all know - even if sub-consciously - how many other cyclists are around them.

A recent visitor commented that the cyclists on the bike lanes don't shoulder check when overtaking. I told him to look more carefully and then he started noticing the subtle, quick head movement which seemed to confirm what the ears already knew. That the coast was clear for overtaking.

The soundtrack of urban cycling is composed by the city in which you ride. Personally, I love this symphony of cityness. Wifealiciousness and I, after a spell in the country, always remark how it's nice to be back in the city again. Not that we don't enjoy the country - one great thing is that you can hear your bike on the lanes or swishing through grass, with all the lovely creaks and squeaks. It's just nice to get back to The Big Smoke.


The Five Cycling Senses - Sound from Colville Andersen on Vimeo.
I whipped up this little film wherein I explore six or so sounds relating to bikes in Copenhagen. You'll just hear the sounds at first and then afterwards you'll see the clip with the related sound. You can stop in the middle and guess if you want.

One of the few bicycle sounds that irritates me is the sound of gears. The odd Copenhagener with a multi-geared bike may, when accelerating off the light, hop past 5 or 10 or 22 gears to get to the one they want. This dreadful clickclickclickclickclick is the cyclo-equivilant of grinding the clutch.

Fortunately, it's rare. You'll often just hear that one little click when someone gears up. Actually, one of the aspects of Copenhagen bike culture is the complete disregard for gearing up or down. A friend of mine from Norway brought it to my attention. He noticed that most cyclists don't even bother with it and prefer starting in a heavy gear off the lights, even though it requires more muscle-power.


The sounds of cycling in Copenhagen include the obvious sound of human voices. Chatting with your friend or loved one as you ride. Side by side or on a cargo bike.

Nothing beats the human voice engaged in a conversation while cycling. Even if it's a quick mobile phone chat.


Music can also be enjoyed on a bike. In this case, a concert on the City Hall Square.

One of my readers has asked me to continue with the senses and to include sixth sense and the lesser known "kinesthetic sense, balance and thermoception". Oh boy. I'll give it a shot!

A little addendum to the Smell post and the mention of perfume/shampoo. A reader posted this link in the comments. A group of students in California are pushing for a ban on fragrances in public spaces.

The Five Cycling Senses - Smell

This Five Cycling Senses is an aesthetic series so I won't dwell too long on the obvious 'smell' factor regarding urban cycling - exhaust from motor vehicles. I'll just hurry up and link to this post over at Copenhagenize.com about how studies have shown that the level of polluting particles is higher INSIDE cars than next to them on a bike. So while we have to live with exhaust, we can pity the motorists.

And this post highlights how traffic [meaning pollution and noise] kills ten times more people than traffic accidents, so cycling is a fantastic, safe way to stay healthy.

And as with the cyclist on the lovely, wide bike lane above, we can just zip right past the cars anyway.

Meanwhile, back at the poetry...

For me, when considering Smell in relation to urban cycling in Copenhagen, one thing pops instantly into my mind. Perfume.

Not a single day passes without perfume wafting up my nose on the bike lanes, and I'm not exaggerating. Cycling here is a fashionable affair [as if you haven't noticed that already] and perfume or cologne are second nature.

Whether having a fellow Copenhagener overtake me or just following in the slipstream, perfume adds aromatic colour to the urban landscape. Even waiting at the red light downwind of another cyclist, the scent of their perfume, or even their shampoo, often drifts your way. Nice aromas but it also heightens that sense of being close to your fellow citizens. It's personal, somehow, even if you're strangers.

I can't honestly remember any negative smell experiences involving sweat or body odour.


Certainly during the summer, the scent of suntan lotion is everywhere in the afternoons when people are heading home from the beaches.


Like in the post about Taste, I'm quite convinced that I can smell the seasons. The most strikingly aromatic season has to be autumn. The sweet organic smell of fallen leaves, intensified after the rain. The cooler air somehow sharpening the scent.


Surely we can taste sunlight? Whether in high-summer, mid-winter or in the early days of spring?


We can certainly smell the woods and the fields when we take shortcuts to work, and the seasons possess each their own unique combination of odours.




I'm quite sure we can agree that we can smell the rain.


I have this thing about water. Wherever possible I like to ride past it. Riding over the bridges in Copenhagen you'll always see people glancing to their right at the harbour. I suppose it's an addendum to the post about Sight, but the harbour has changeable scents, too. The salt water smell is vague and suggestive in the winter and richer in texture in the summer. The above film is comprised of stills that I took over six months on my way to work. I can smell the sea water just looking at the film.

A few years ago I rode in another direction out of town to work, past a lake outside the city limits. The scents were just as remarkable and rememberable - the latter word was not a word until just now - as on the harbour.

In the post about Taste, coffee was mentioned, and that applies to Smell. Whether your own coffee on the bike or someone next to you. Not a bad aroma.

What you do smell or like to smell on your ride?

The Five Cycling Senses - Taste

In a way I covered Taste in an earlier post about Eating and Drinking on Your Bike. All manner of snacks or beverages can be enjoyed while cycling through the urban landscape. Nothing like sipping a hot coffee on your way to work or crunching your way through an apple in the afternoon. So apart from this addition - a very important aspect of life in Copenhagen... beer:

... I'll get all philosophical on your asses.

Felix, in the photo at the top, is tasting snowflakes while cyclists plow through the snow behind him. Which made me think... can we taste the weather on our bicycles?


On a below zero morning, the cold winter air catches in our throats and chills our lungs. I love it. Getting to the throat and the lungs, the air has to pass the tongue. I am quite convinced that I can taste the cold air - crisp and sweet all at once.


And what of the morning light? Does it not possess a taste all it's own? I don't think I can HEAR the light, but tasting it... oh yes. What does it taste like to you? A peach? A freshly baked roll from the oven?


Or the low, melancholy light of evening, for that matter?


I was reminded of one sure taste experience. Riding home from the beach on a hot summer's day you may catch yourself licking your lips and tasting the salt of the sea after a swim.


And the sweetest taste of all. A kiss. Can't forget that one.

Taste is a tricky one. Feel free to contribute your thoughts in the Comments section.

The Five Cycling Senses - Sight

The sense of sight in relation to urban cycling is probably the easiest to document and relate to. You're out in the open, exposed to elements, but also exposed to your city. In turn, your city exposes itself to you in ways that are unattainable in a motor vehicle, even a bus or train. You are in constant interaction with everything happening around you, including your fellow citizens. You see so much. You see the buildings, the sky, the clouds, unrestricted by the glass and roof of a car.

In Nordic countries, light is a powerful drug. When you can ride through a winter's morning into the rising sun, even the squinting of your eyes is a feast for the sense of sight.



Your use the city's features on a bike, like zipping along and glancing up at the clock on the City Hall Tower to see if you're late or on time.

Or the clock on one of the old churches.


You are up close and personal with the urban landscape. Watching other people interact with the city all while you do the same.





Seeing other people seeing, glancing, observing somehow heightens the sense.


There are very good anthropological advantages to having an unrestricted view.




You get to regard those fellow citizens that you find attractive while they are in motion, moving through the city, using the city. Seeing a gorgeous man or woman in the car next to you is one thing, but seeing him/her in motion is far more aesthetic. Homo sapiens wouldn't have gotten very far on the evolutionary trail if we had to choose our mates based on how they sat, motionless and sedentary, in their tents. We have always needed to see each other in active settings in order to choose.

Which men have a better chance of attracting your attention, ladies? These chaps above or this guy below?



A city is far more alive when you are alive in it, on a bicycle.

Your fellow citizens are in motion.

You see them interacting with each other in the most human way possible.

And they see you.

The Five Cycling Senses - Touch

It's a touchy-feely thing, urban cycling. It's physical, organic and a feast for the senses. I figured I'd try to portray the five senses in relation to cycling in Copenhagen. Starting with Touch.

People don't talk about 'cycling' here in Copenhagen. You don't get to work and discuss the morning's commute with your colleagues. You may comment on the rain and whether or not you were caught in it but the whole act of urban cycling is so second-nature that it isn't even mentioned.

As I've mentioned before, we don't have many cyclists in Copenhagen, we only have Copenhageners who get around by bike. Sure, there are groups that hang out together. The sub-cultural bike messenger crowd and the fixies do their funky thang together. The woolen-socks in sandals/trimmed greying beard crowd join the Cyclists' Federation. The rest of us just ride around because it's easy and fast. 57% of Copenhageners say that's why they ride. 17% mention excerise and only 1% say they do it for the environment.

Since starting these blogs I've asked friends what they like about riding their bike everyday. The most common reply, it seems, is that it's nice to experience the fresh air and the weather. And then the conversation quickly moves on to something else. There's nothing really to talk about. It's a routine - an enjoyable one, sure, but just a part of daily life. We don't discuss teethbrushing techniques either.

THE WEATHER
So, the photo above falls into the Touch category. Feeling the light spring rain, snowflakes, a sudden downpour or the stabbing, painful slivers of ice during a storm on your face and hands are definately appropriate for Touch. Feeling the four seasons up close and personal is an aesthetic part of urban cycling, even if you get drenched once in a while.

TOGETHERNESS


Touch is riding with friends or loved ones. Sure, you can hold hands while driving but it's not quite the same thing.

And this kind of togetherness would be difficult in a motorised vehicle.

HANDLEBARS

Our sense of touch applies to all of our body but it is our hands that most used. Therefore I've included a shot of hands on handlebars. Riding with a firm grip up a hill or a loose grip through the city or even just riding with one hand. Fingers reaching for the brake and squeezing it. It's all about you touching the machine and controlling it.

Even with one finger.

And even if it's two sets of handlebars.

TIPTOES

There are various postures people use at red lights, as we've highlighted before. Many people just rely on their toes to keep them balanced at the light. Tensed muscles supporting a body and a bike, ready to push off at a moment's notice. A brief connection with the ground before sailing off on two wheels.




FOOTPOWER

Just after that magical moment when 'lift off' is achieved and the bike is rolling forward of its own accord and the foot that propelled it forward has lost contact with the ground, the next event involves the foot finding the pedal. Seeking it out in a combination of instinct and experience as well as touch. It's second-nature. We don't have to look for the pedal, we know where it is. But the touch of the foot on the pedal confirms it and we can start pedalling away.

Lift off.

The cyclist on the left is seeking out the pedal with her foot. Preparing to accelerate.


Seeking out the pedal is one thing, but the foot sometimes needs to find purchase on the curb. Placed just right - according to individual taste - until motion is required once again.

Anyone else have any observations about Touch in relation to cycling? Add a comment and I'll start thinking about the other senses.