I rode a magic bike the other day. It was there when I wanted it and gone when I didn’t, following B-Cycle’s claim.
As the first large-scale bike-sharing system in the U.S., B-Cycle’s program goes like this: Find a station, pay for a bike, ride it, then return it to any of the 40 stations throughout the city.
My ride started at the station on Park Avenue West and Tremont Street. At the B-Cyle dock, 13 chunky red bikes stood gleaming from a metal stand. I studied the glass-encased Denver map, dotted with many red “B’s” that marked all the stations. I pushed the button on the credit card tower and paid my single-day rental fee of $5.
The bikes were thick, red and angular, with netted baskets large enough for a backpack or four full bags of groceries. Zero-Five, I entered on the screen. Bike No. 5 beeped, unlocked, and I slid it out from the dock. Magic.
I did worry about how I’d get anything done while having to babysit my bicycle — until I spotted the coiled lock in the enormous basket. I could go anywhere I wanted and lock this puppy up.
So I started — but not as gracefully as I would have liked. I rolled off the curb onto a patch of grass and hit a telephone pole. A word of warning: The baskets mounted on the handlebars are heavy. Two blocks later, I gained my composure and started to feel the flow. That cool Colorado wind came down 23rd and the spring smells of lilac and cut grass wound around me. An older man on another bike gave me a we’re-both- riding-bikes nod of the head.
In an empty corner of the Denver Zoo’s parking lot, I figured I’d take a turn and see what my bike could do. These things can cut corners like an old Volvo, and stop sideways like a hockey player. What proved less pretty was hands-free riding because of the weight of the basket.
I came coasting up to the bike rack at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science with both legs on the left side of the bike in an attempt of coolness, but realized that my cruiser and my cool were quite outdone by the thin-framed Schwinn and the Marin Sausalito. Yeah, but none of these bikes cost $5, I told myself. I pitied their puny baskets, or lack thereof.
I wrapped the lock cord around the bike stand, then tried to insert the pointed end into its outlet. No luck. I shoved. Readjusted my feet. No click. I laughed self-consciously, put my hands on my hips, and looked around. Then I squatted down and put my whole back into it when a man locking up a Vespa looked up and said, “You need some help?” Just then, it clicked and the key popped out in my hand.
Once inside, I found many of the motivators behind the B-cycle confirmed by the Body Worlds exhibit. “The network of arteries, veins, and capillaries that carry the blood to and from the heart is more than 60,000 miles long.” And, “Lack of exercise in your daily life causes your heart muscle to shrink like any other muscle in the body.”
With 60,000 miles curving around each other inside of us, how can we not aspire toward covering distance? How can we be a happy species if we deny ourselves the opportunity to move of our own accord? A quote from the Dalai Lama also covered a darkly draped wall: “Happiness is not something ready made, it comes from your own actions.”
Later, I proudly walked up to my B bike outside. I rode back to the bike station on a different street and noticed a school I’d never seen, with a freshly planted garden, a woman rocking a baby on her porch.
Back at home, I checked up on the “B-effects.” If 10 percent of Denverites ride a B-cycle for 30 miles, we will reduce carbon emissions by 1,712 tons. We will save $2,615,426 in gas. Collectively, we will burn 167,586,690 calories.
I plan to ride a B-bike again. And, though they’re not the coolest-looking apparatuses, if I see you on a red bike with a big basket and a blue-circled B, I’ll think you’re pretty cool.
Megan Nix () of Denver can be reached at thenixionary@gmail.com.
