Dear bicycles,

Walking down Wright Street as a wee high schooler right after being given my first tour of our lovely school, you seemed like a great idea. Getting from South Quad to the Engineering Quad on this gargantuan campus didn’t seem quite as daunting as long as I was atop a nice two-wheeler. I could already see myself pedaling away on a nice, white, mountain bike with a little basket in the front to hold my books and a helmet to match sitting on my head as I sped past the thousands of students trudging to and from class. The little bike lanes sandwiched between the street and sidewalk were so cute I couldn’t help but get excited to ride my very own bike on them someday.

Then I got to school. And boy, did that fantasy disappear.

You may as well be a truck the way you think you own the road. A car comes? You’ve got the right of way. A bus comes? You’re obviously not going to stop for them. You approach a stop sign? What stop sign? You don’t see dca stop sign. A student crossing the street is in your way? They may as well be invisible, honestly.

When I was sixteen, I was taught in my driver’s ed class that bikes have the same rules applied to them as cars. Is this different now that you’re in college, dear bicycles?

The amount of people I’ve seen get hit is more than a handful, let me tell you. At first, I laugh, obviously. And then I realize, oh gosh. They could’ve gotten hurt. And what if that was me, sitting there in the bike lane with my books everywhere and a bike tangled in my legs? I’ve had some pretty close calls, myself. If I’m late for class, I am on a mission. If I’m on a mission, there’s no way I’ll be looking for bikes when I cross the street. Especially if I have my headphones in. Now there’s something that really gives quite the scare. Imagine: You’re walking, head down, and all of a sudden a bike is literally three inches away from you. Your life flashes before your eyes. You wish you’d called your mom this morning. This is it, you think. This is the end. And then you narrowly escape death by jumping back into the street where cars and buses (who, by the way, are more willing to stop for you then bikes) are driving. What a lovely situation you’ve gotten into.

So, bikes, please be aware of us pedestrians. Put yourselves in our shoes as we cautiously cross the road. We’ve got places to be, too. And we don’t want you to hit us. That hurts. And it’s embarrassing. And it happens far too often.

Love,

A person that wants to get to class knowing she won’t get plowed over by a ten-speed.