I’m embarrassed to say that before I was a bicycle-riding babe, I was a car-driving ditz. But there are good sides to everything and having been both means I can speak with authority when it comes to which is better.
Today on my way home from work it occurred to me just how magical it is to step out of one’s office and on to a bicycle, and for the period of your ride home do nothing but enjoy the weather.
Weather is great. I love it. What’s not to love. Sun, cloud, rain, humidity, wind, breezes, thunder and clear sky, it’s got it all. And without my bicycle I never appreciated just how fun weather was.
Before my bicycle came in to my life, I would spend the entire day moving from one steel and glass box to another, never feeling the day, never hearing the birds and never enjoying the weather.
Today was indeed a particularly perfect afternoon, but quite frankly I’d rather be rained on all the way home than be sealed in some form of air-conditioned, climate-controlled, air-filtered box from dawn till dusk.
There is only one thing that detracts from my weather-enjoying bicycle-commuting, experience; the absence of trees.
Trees are the planet’s own version of climate control and they do the job with exceptional accuracy and aplomb.
It can get rather hot on the road in summer and not because of the sun, but because of the lack of trees and the abundance of heat-radiating black bitumen.
With a little bit of extra effort by our city planners, Melbourne could be not only the bicycle capital of the world, but the world’s most pleasant bicycle city.
It’s not like we don’t know how to do it, or that we don’t appreciate the exceptional qualities of tree-lined streets.
Royal Parade in Parkville was designed not just to be a street, but a royal parade. And on a bicycle, no one in a car would ever notice, it really feels like riding in paradise.
The enormous elm trees that line the entire length of the road cast deep shadows across the street in summer, and riding along it is a complete pleasure.
In fact the cooling effect of trees in urban environments is up to 30%. That’s a hot 30 degree day down to a perfect 21.
We’ve also done it on St Georges road. St George was clearly a saint of a man and the bicycle path build in his honour does him justice.
And while both those roads are exceptionally wide and and rather fancy examples of how we might create the world’s best bicycle city, the idea could easily be scaled to suit more modest-sized roads.
More to the point, in a world-class bicycle city there would be so few cars that you could remove all but the most essential side-street car parking, and low and behold you’d have room for an avenue of trees down most main streets.
In the mean time, while I wait for Melbourne to get with the bicycle times and the trees to grow, thank goodness for a moment each morning and evening to sense the day.
What do you think?