My Fiets is My Only Carriage

Of course I knew before coming here that Amsterdammers love their bikes. I didn't fully understand what that meant, though. They use their bikes the way we use our cars. Bikes are the default mode of transportation. We arrived in terrible weather -- in three weeks, I think we've seen the sun twice. We've had snow, sleet and hail -- and they don't salt the roads like we do. Some days there's slush, some days ice, but it's always slippery. Nevertheless, the natives are zipping around on their bikes. And talking on their cell phones. And carrying things! Big things, like potted plants, DVD players, bags of groceries. The other day I saw a man riding while holding a cat in a pet carrier at his side.

Many of them are also transporting multiple children. The kids ride on the handlebars, on the bar in front of Mom or Dad, on the luggage racks, and in these wheelbarrow-like contraptions attached to the front of the bike.

And no one -- NO ONE -- wears a helmet. I have seen exactly one helmet in three weeks.

Part of what makes the Dutch feel safe on their bikes is the cultural presumption in favor of bikes. Speed limits for cars are low, there are bike lanes on many major streets, there are bike lights and bike crossings, and the ubiquity of bikes means cars -- and pedestrians -- are constantly on their guard for hurtling tweewielers.

Dennis and I purchased traditional Amsterdam bikes -- called Oma fiets, or Granny bikes -- within a week of arrival. We got a bike for Clara this weekend, and are still looking for one for Zander. The plan is to ride together to school, which is 40 minutes away by tram but 15 minutes by bike. But after riding around for a bit myself, I am certain we won't be doing this at least until the ice is gone (Dennis has taken a couple of spills on ice while riding his fiets to work).

But further, I anticipate weeks of practice. The roads are intimidating! You stop at an intersection, and by the time the light turns green, you are surrounded by 8 or 10 experienced bikers, tall Dutch people who can put a foot on the ground at a stoplight without coming off the seat, pedals perfectly oriented for a fast take-off (remember when you had a foot-brake bike? You can't rotate the pedals backwards to get into take-off position!) You have to plan ahead as you are coasting to a stop, otherwise your start will be an embarrassing and potentially dangerous hop-skip-wobble as you maneuver one of the pedals to the front where you can push down and get some momentum.

Then, once you are in transit, you are constantly being overtaken by daredevil Dutchmen and Dutchwomen passing you on the left, startling you out of your reverie or canal-gazing trance with a jingle of their bell. Not to mention the motor scooters, which back home seemed the greenest alternative, but here seem like the Hummers of the bike lane, rudely muscling in with their loud motors and exhaust and heart-attack-inducing horns. . .

OK, I'll stop. I actually LOVE being able to bike around this city. When I don't feel overwhelmed, I feel empowered. But will I be able to let my kids do it? I think I'll shop around a bit more before deciding on a fiets for Zander. And there MUST be a store somewhere in this city that sells helmets.