Before you ask, no, I’m not doing it to be different or special. It’s not a statement. I’m not trying push for divestment from Schwinn. I don’t think I’m better than you — at least not because I don’t own a bike, anyway. Not saying I am better, not saying I’m not. Just saying it’d be a pretty lame reason for thinking so.
Nor do I do it for the glamor. You might think that not owning a bike at Stanford puts one in a pretty exclusive club within a pretty exclusive club, like the private backroom at the Freemason Lodge where membership is conditional on your walking everywhere. But there’s no esprit de corps amongst our members (since this is a culture blog, I’m contractually obligated to hit y’all with some French once in awhile).
Which is odd, given how exclusive we really are. If bikes truly do outnumber people on this campus, which anyone with a 10 AM class can probably believe, then by definition there are only several hundred of us. And once you consider that about 25 percent of non bike-owners are just in that category because their last bike was recently stolen, the figures for our kind look even grimmer.
Our rarity is understandable, what with that whole ‘people want to get places quickly’ thing. But sometimes I feel they’re missing out on an awesome way of life — for bikelessness is nothing if not a way of life. Consider:
I don’t have to worry about being tried for murder in a Chinese court because I just took out a tourist.
I’ve never accidentally sat on a wet bike-seat. Yeah. No, I know, it’s great.
I don’t grapple with the whole helmet-or-no-helmet dilemma. (Strangely, this is actually kind of a drawback — in a twist of cruel irony, I look amazing in a helmet).
I didn’t even know how much bikes cost until I looked it up just now to see if I wanted to include expense in this list. Based on my findings… let’s just say I do.
When I walk places, it gives me time to consider and reflect. I can notice the buildings and landscapes and admire their beauty, instead of dimly noting them as they blur by me. I can better appreciate how lucky I am to be here. If I see someone I know and want to talk to, I have the time to process it, or even have a conversation, while if I see someone I know and don’t want to talk to, I can change direction easily. I can mentally prep, unwind, or wander freely without a care.
When I walk places it might take longer, but it’s my own time. And no one here has enough of that.
But hey, you’re a Stanford student. Obviously you have better things to do. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if our kind is wiped out soon enough. This place prioritizes efficiency — they’ll probably start handing out custom-made Arrillaga brand bikes to profros over Admit Weekend.
Which leads me to think that we the bikeless should do something. Unite, mobilize. Take pride in our difference, celebrate our way of life. Reach out and find each other, before it’s too late.
That’ll probably never happen though. It would just take too long — seriously, this campus is freaking huge.
Contact Alex Rawitz at arawitz ‘at’ stanford.edu