Rolling up my pant leg to ride and getting involved

As an international student hailing from the Land of Gas-Guzzling SUV's (Denver, Colorado), one of the biggest draws to coming to school in Toronto was the fact that I wouldn't need a car.No insurance, no gas, and no parking fees for four years.

I have rocked the TTC faithfully - leaving the bars at 1:31am so as not to miss that last subway home, paying $87.75 for a metro pass every month (in January, $96.00, yikes!) and chastising my car and taxi-using friends with classic environmentalist discourse.

But with my decision to stay in Toronto this past summer, and my growing lack of impatience for having my schedule dictated by someone else's late bus, I decided to roll up my right pant leg and join the thousands of other fierce Torontonian bicyclists.

When my roommate said she had a spare bike, I enthusiastically said I would take it. The vintage SuperCycle from Canadian Tire turned out to be... well-loved. It even came with a wire lock attached to its front wheel and frame, the key to which my roommate had inconveniently misplaced.

Once April was over and my last metro pass ran out, I took a large hammer and a slice of recklessness out to the garage and went savage on the lock, losing about a 1/4 inch of skin off my thumb, but gaining miles of freedom on my two new wheels.

I soon discovered one of the biggest drawbacks to riding a bike in Toronto (besides those pesky streetcar tracks) is the lack of bike lanes.

I know progressive cities like Montreal have miles on them, but Toronto has surprisingly few. It's true that there are many activist groups out there fighting for greater bicycle awareness in the city. I myself proudly rode in the "Bells on Bloor" rally September 23rd, whose aim was to promote a much-needed bike lane on Bloor Street.

According to their website, over 950,000 adults ride bikes in the city, and where bike lanes have been introduced, ridership has increased by up to 42 percent. In the meantime, the four-lane streets that make up the majority of Toronto include a parking lane on the right side during the day, leaving a claustrophobic slice of road where bikes can ride with the parked cars' driver's side to their right and moving traffic to their left.

This is usually not a problem, except for the occasional bad timing when a driver throws their door open without looking and a bicyclist has no place to go except head-on into the door. This has not happened to me...yet.

Bloor Street notwithstanding, the city of Toronto has not been entirely negligent. Their "Bike Plan", which comes with a schnazy brochure detailing the "six spokes" formula, is focused on making Toronto a more bike-friendly place.

The city has plans for expanding the bicycle network, increasing bicycle parking on streets, promoting the popularity of bicycling, spreading safety information through education, and linking bicycles with transit.

Of course, if you pick up the current Now Weekly, you will find one or two naysayers as to the city's dedication.

At least there is a marked political awareness of biker's needs in Toronto. Which brings me to the most interesting part of riding a bike in an urban center: the inherent politics.

By virtue of my mode of transportation, I am automatically assumed to believe in anti-petroleum causes, want to fight AIDS in Africa, and really hate U.S. globalization.

I receive political flyers in my bicycle basket frequently, and people approach me while sitting at stoplights, trying to create awareness for their undoubtedly liberal-oriented activist group.

Granted, I am liberal, and I do ride my bike because it's not only cheap but environmentally sustainable.

But does that mean all bike riders really a sub-culture of idealistic hippies? Is the pant leg roll an international symbol for liberalism? The average alchy flashing me his large ass-smile on his bike as I cruise by tells me "no".

For many in this city, it's a matter of economics; even public transportation is too pricey.

Despite the inherent labeling, I guess I should feel privileged that I can choose my idealistic mode of transportation, but jump in a cab when I need to.