It is great how many people are taking alternative transportation to work.  Particularly those who travel in and out of the city.  I aplaud you!  Down near the Longwood Medical Area where I teach, there are stream of 4 to 5 connected bike racks that are busting with bikes to the point where not an exposed pipe or surface is available to lock just one more ride.  At first I thought people were just taking up space by storing their bikes on these racks.  Surely, not ALL of these people are commuting in.  Sure enough, I rode past the rack early one morning and only found 3 to 4 bikes. Amazing.

As cyclists, we may find ourselves also sharing the road with this motorized scooters (commuter scooters). These have become quite a nuisance in the Boston area.  According to the local laws, these motorized bicycles are allowed to ride in bike lanes.  Not only do cyclist not how to breathe in their fumes, but have to be aware of these annoying hornets buzzing into our lane whenever they feel traffic is not in their favor.  Now I’m not only battling moving cars on my left and dodging flinging doors from the right, there are these scooters which are buzzing around and very hard to see.

I’m sure there are very conscientious scooter drivers, so I don’t want to lump them into one bunch.  My challenge is that I’m usually (if not always) traveling faster than the scooters.  I’ll be cruising along and all of a sudden scooter weaves into my lane going 5 mph slower.  It is generally easier to pass another cyclist in the bike lane, because they are usually not very wide and will kindly move over to allow me to to go by.  Some of these scooters are pretty wide.  Particularly those carrying a passenger and with bags and boxes hanging off them like grapes.

Yet another factor impeding on the safety of trying to stay healthy and ride a bike to work.

I’m one of those guys that likes my bike to purr.  The chain needs to sound like silk passing through one’s hand and the wheels just emitting a subtle, steady hum.  Shifting should be effortless and almost undetected.  I’m sure I’m not alone in this.  I’ve been fortunate over the years and have mostly ridden very well maintained high-end bikes provided by sponsors.

Knowing this, it may be difficult to imagine me riding around on a beaten-up single-speed or a cyclocross bike I refer to as my battle-axe.  I commute in and out of Boston everyday and often ride from our biomechanics lab to different health clubs around the city where I teach indoor cycling or small group coaching programs.  Both the single-speed and cyclocross bikes are perfectly suited for the unpredictable urban terrain.  My carbon road bike is prohibited from wandering anywhere near an invisible, but well-defined 5-mile perimeter around the downtown area.

As I was heading down the much traveled Massachusetts Avenue (Mass Ave for Bostonians) during rush hour, I was forced to lock up my brakes to avoid a dog which wondered into the street.  Seconds later I discovered a person attached and following the dog as if using it to test the flow of traffic.  As a dog lover, my inner comments were not favorable towards the human.

Another cyclist was stopped a few car-lengths up the road with one foot on the curb.  He had witness the near miss and commented on the loud screech my brakes made as I slide to a stop. “Dude, you gotta get those brakes fixed”.

Get my brakes fixed?!?!  Those pig-squeals have saved my life and others more times than I can remember.

I learned this life-saving trick one day after trying to clean my rims with this “new” solvent.  It left a film of tacky-ness on the brake surface.  I couldn’t even think about touching the brakes without the sound of a loud herd of frightened-pigs emerging from my spokes shaking the bike so violently that the muscles separated from the bones of my arms.  What I did discover during this embarrassing ordeal was that people responded “rapidly” to the sound of the herd and ignored the herder.  I decided to experiment to see if this was really true.

Cruising through Harvard Square, I yelled at  random people crossing the street “LOOK OUT”.  They barely glanced up from their Blackberrys as if they had acquired some magical force field that would prevent me from running their butt down.

Now let’s try the pigs.  I didn’t say anything, but instead, hit the squealing brakes.  It was like the parting of the Red Sea.  People freaked.  Revolted. Recoiled.  Their shoulders clenched around their ears.  Others stopped dead, standing on their toes as if suspended in mid-air afraid to move.  Texting stopped.  Phone calls were interrupted.  Then I witness the most amazing thing ever (from the perspective of a bike commuter)…..a taxi cab driver swung his head around to look!!!  Holy……wow.

I grinned with power.

I did go home that night and remove the nasty gunk from my rims, but was determined to use what I learned.  I could not resist the feeling of power.  So I “incorrectly” toed (angled) the brakes on the front wheels of both my single-speed and battle-axe.  This allows me to stop silently using the rear brakes, but releases the swine with the use of the front brake.

Despite the forced respect I receive on the road, I believe I’m saving lives.  Including my own.