Bikes are fun; the road is hard

Bicycling is one of life's great joys. There's no other way to get so close to flying so simply and easily - a gentle push, and you're aloft. Alas, unless you're alone on the Minuteman Bike Trail with nary a stick in sight, every thrill comes with a touch of anxiety. Between squirrels and squad cars, tacks and train tracks, there's a lot to watch out for - and that's in summer, when the riding is easy. Come winter, just staying upright is a challenge in itself.

I have a long history with bikes and their associated mishaps, and one of my early memories is of taking a friend for a ride down a bumpy meadow. I was in front having a great time; he was on back and lost contact with the bike somewhere around the halfway point. He ended up with a broken arm, I learned a lesson - and no, it wasn't "choose friends with a better sense of balance."

While I'm anything but the perfect cyclist, after countless scrapes and thumps I'm at least a safer one. Here are the basics I've learned, each keyed to an episode that really brought it home.

See: A while back I did an autumn bike tour through Central Massachusetts with a friend. It was beautiful, but one day we got a late start and forgot that the sun would be setting early. Lights? - not for us. Night found us struggling over a high ridge in almost total darkness. Cars would flash by, illuminating the road and then leaving us blind, a ditch just inches away. We made it - barely. Moral of story: Bring a light even if you don't think you need one.

Be seen: Being an urban sort, I've long favored black attire, but that's not such a great idea when cycling. During one evening's cross-town transit I was nearly flattened half a dozen times, and as I cursed yet another blinkered motorist who had nearly knocked me into the Creator's arms, something made me stop. I was dressed like a ninja, I realized, yet was getting angry at drivers for not seeing me. While I haven't taken to wearing DayGlo vests, I do observe common sense: reflective leg bands, discreet blinking lights front and back. (They actually look kind of cool, but I'm not telling anyone.)

Get a grip: If anything gets between you and the road - gravel, ice, air - kiss equilibrium goodbye. It took me . . . well, too long to figure this one out. It came to me one day when I was doing my favorite trick, riding on the white strip at the side of the road. It was raining lightly and I was distracted by a police car as I approached Mass. Ave. At that instant a cyclist flew into my field of vision from the left and I hit the brakes - then hit the ground. All it took was the combination of moisture, the slick surface beneath my tires, and the too-quick reaction. The key here is that while you can ride on slippery things, don't expect to be able to do so and stop or turn quickly. When traction is limited, give cars, bikes, and anything else that moves even more room than normal; don't let your momentum build up; and leave plenty of room to stop. When braking on sand, snow, or ice, favor the rear wheel. If it locks up, no problem; if your front does, you go down.

Showstoppers: Like things built for motion - cars, planes, stock markets - bicycles are complex devices that require regular maintenance. Once my front brake cable snapped at the top of the hill above my parents' house. And the rear brake? Hopelessly out of adjustment. Perversely ignoring a wide bend to the right, I roared into their gravel drive (that would slow me down, right?), hit a low wall, and flew over the top, landing with a thump not 10 feet from my mother, who was weeding nearby. She got a laugh, I got a crumpled bicycle. So don't stint on maintenance, no matter how tight the budget. (Besides, if you leave the car at home, you're already saving big.) Before every ride, verify that your tires are firm, both brakes work, and that nothing else you'll depend on - handlebars, pedals, wheels - could go astray. One day, you'll be glad you did.

Your worst enemy: Not that hard-charging Lexus or careening truck, but all those peaceful cars at the side of the road. The drivers on the road at least have you in their sights; those in parked cars have no idea you're coming and little interest in finding out. I know, and that's why the last time I got doored, it was a million-to-one chance: I was coming over the crest of Clarendon Street by Back Bay Station and a BMW zipped by. I was watching out for the expansion joints over the Mass. Pike when the car suddenly stopped and its right door popped open. Thankfully the passenger stayed in place, but my bike and I didn't. The lesson: Ride at least three feet away from cars, whether they're to your left or right. Keep a straight line, and ignore all honking behind you. As a cyclist you have a right to use the lane, and you should. Vehicles behind you can move around, and when the time comes that some car door lunges at you, you'll be safe.

Head and hands: Wear a helmet, period. I really don't like to think about the close calls I've had. And communicate your intentions - hand signals never go out of style.

Speed freaks: Cars, yes, but bikes, too. The faster you go, the less time you have to react. After a too-quick ride across the city with a friend, he had two words of advice for me: "Slow down." It took a while for them to sink in, but they have. I want to ride longer, and that means living longer.

Leighton Klein can be reached at leightonwalter@yahoo.com. Want to share a bike safety tip not mentioned here? E-mail shiftinggears@globe.com.