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The image of China as a nation defined by a blur of bicycle wheels， has long been embedded in the psyche of visitors and expats. Despite the country now being the largest consumer of vehicles， and bicycles fading briefly from city streets， choking traffic jams have ironically forced the great cycle comeback.
It’s far easier dodging gridlock on two wheels， and more adventurous， too. Besides， there is the supposed health advantage， admittedly much disputed considering the often poor air quality.
While cycling is always great in summer， it can be a way to ignite your inner warmth in winter and build up a rosy glow on the way to your destination. Riding to work can do wonders for your attitude.
Get on your bike on an early Beijing morning， warmly wrapped， route memorized， ready to rock and roll. A Giant-24 inch spoke-wheeled wonder is just the thing to get you going – and Giant here refers to a popular brand， not the size of the bike. If you are tall， you are going to look like a monkey up a tree hunched over the frame， and over the first few blocks those who haven’t cycled for a while could be in for a wobbly affair.
At the first red traffic light you squeeze the brakes. Nothing happens. You keep squeezing and suddenly they take， almost ejecting you from the saddle. You look around sheepishly and watch as others come crunching to a stop in various degrees of elegance. The man next to you has a cigarette in his gloved right hand and the look of a serial killer. On the other side， a depressed looking woman wearing an Eskimo type anorak and face mask， berates her young daughter， who is cuddled up in the yellow plastic seat on the back carrier. You may get a feeling of claustrophobia in amongst all the chains， pedals， saddles and spokes of what now seems like a sea of cycles around you.
The traffic lights turn green and you peddle for all you are worth. Cars hoot and sweep selfishly into the cycle lanes， ostensibly to avoid the choking traffic jams， but creating more of their own. Suck in a lungful of prime quality carbon monoxide exhaust fumes and peer ahead through reddening eyes. What a joy it is to get some exercise outside. You need eyes in the front and back of your head - dodging potholes， swerving for pedestrians and maintaining your balance. Legs begin to cramp fast as a bus shaves your arm， either through pinpoint driving skills or lack of peripheral vision.
Sometimes， it will be necessary to use your feet on the ground to push yourself along， like a Fred Flintstone imitation. In the interest of saving time， traffic rules are ignored and eye contact is never made - in this way cyclists， and all road users for that matter， are absolved of blame should an accident happen.
Your 40-minute trip will be over in a flash， no doubt helped along by the flowing slipstream of other cyclists. You can now boast of being a “real” Beijinger， having braved the streets， and very definitely， being taken for a ride.
It’s far easier dodging gridlock on two wheels， and more adventurous， too. Besides， there is the supposed health advantage， admittedly much disputed considering the often poor air quality.
While cycling is always great in summer， it can be a way to ignite your inner warmth in winter and build up a rosy glow on the way to your destination. Riding to work can do wonders for your attitude.
Get on your bike on an early Beijing morning， warmly wrapped， route memorized， ready to rock and roll. A Giant-24 inch spoke-wheeled wonder is just the thing to get you going – and Giant here refers to a popular brand， not the size of the bike. If you are tall， you are going to look like a monkey up a tree hunched over the frame， and over the first few blocks those who haven’t cycled for a while could be in for a wobbly affair.
At the first red traffic light you squeeze the brakes. Nothing happens. You keep squeezing and suddenly they take， almost ejecting you from the saddle. You look around sheepishly and watch as others come crunching to a stop in various degrees of elegance. The man next to you has a cigarette in his gloved right hand and the look of a serial killer. On the other side， a depressed looking woman wearing an Eskimo type anorak and face mask， berates her young daughter， who is cuddled up in the yellow plastic seat on the back carrier. You may get a feeling of claustrophobia in amongst all the chains， pedals， saddles and spokes of what now seems like a sea of cycles around you.
The traffic lights turn green and you peddle for all you are worth. Cars hoot and sweep selfishly into the cycle lanes， ostensibly to avoid the choking traffic jams， but creating more of their own. Suck in a lungful of prime quality carbon monoxide exhaust fumes and peer ahead through reddening eyes. What a joy it is to get some exercise outside. You need eyes in the front and back of your head - dodging potholes， swerving for pedestrians and maintaining your balance. Legs begin to cramp fast as a bus shaves your arm， either through pinpoint driving skills or lack of peripheral vision.
Sometimes， it will be necessary to use your feet on the ground to push yourself along， like a Fred Flintstone imitation. In the interest of saving time， traffic rules are ignored and eye contact is never made - in this way cyclists， and all road users for that matter， are absolved of blame should an accident happen.
Your 40-minute trip will be over in a flash， no doubt helped along by the flowing slipstream of other cyclists. You can now boast of being a “real” Beijinger， having braved the streets， and very definitely， being taken for a ride.