Ode to my Flying Pigeon

If there is one thing I miss about Shanghai, it’s the bicycle culture. But, that wasn’t always the case.

When I first considered buying a bicycle in Shanghai, I was very apprehensive about the prospect of actually riding it in the streets - to and from work/school - for a number of reasons. First, I had not been on a bicycle in many years and with my luck, I would probably be that rare case of someone who actually forgot how to ride a bicycle. Second, it is my belief that there are no real traffic laws or guidelines in China, and in that world, might is right and bicycles are last on the totem pole of things with wheels on the road (and of note, pedestrians are dead last if we consider the bigger pecking order). Let's face it, it was challenging enough just crossing the streets in town (must look four ways!), but to navigate the roads on a bicycle seemed nutty.

After some careful deliberation (i.e. I’ll buy it and maybe ride it once in a while.) and self-encouragement (how hard can it be? entire families and even senior citizens are cruising around on bicycles.), I bit the bullet. For less than 600RMB (approx. $80USD at the time), I was the owner of a shiny new purple Flying Pigeon – a classic bicycle made in China. I customized it with brown handlebars and a brown seat, which gave the bike a retro look and feel. I then added the biggest utility basket the shop had in stock to the front of my bike, a bell to the handlebar and a utility rack above the rear tire. The only thing I did not purchase was a helmet because it didn’t seem necessary - nor cool - as none of the locals wore helmets.

I adored my new bike, but I had a first challenge on my hands…riding it home! I stalled for a while and walked with the bike halfway down the street before I worked up the nerve to hop on and ride it alongside speeding cars and buses - and against opposing traffic. I was relieved to realize that I hadn’t forgotten how to ride a bicycle, but quite honestly, I was nervous about my ability to steer the bicycle all the way home in the dark. After a few stop-and-go’s, I started to get a feel for it (all the while gripping the handlebars for dear life) and successfully rode home in one piece. When the feeling came back to my arms and derrière, I thought to myself…that was really fun. I then rode it to work the next day (roughly eight miles roundtrip) and felt a new sense of accomplishment and courage. J

By the third day, I was loving my new ride and wanted to ride it everywhere I could. I was riding quite fast at that point and was taking on mopeds and larger wheels in the bicycle lane. I felt unstoppable! And I felt like I was a small part of the bicycle legacy that was so prominent in Shanghai. I was honoring a tradition that was so deeply rooted in the cultural history of China and on a more minor note, I was defying rush hour traffic and the struggle to find a cab.

During my last days in Shanghai, I made it a point to ride my bike as much as I could despite the chilling cold of winter. On my last ride, a light snow began to fall and I felt so happy and nostalgic to ride aimlessly in the streets of old Shanghai. Amidst all the ups and downs of my last year in Shanghai, my Flying Pigeon was a steady companion and a reliable friend. She has since retired in Shanghai, but with some luck, she may find herself on the road again in the urban jungle that is New York City.