Biking with Barry

I’ve begun biking to and from work. It is only four miles one way and I am a bit ashamed as I realize that this eco-friendly action of mine is prompted by my inability or mostly unwillingness to pay current gas prices as opposed to a way to endow a foreseeable future for generations to come. As I ride, I listen to music. I always enjoyed having a soundtrack for my walks to and from campus back when I lived in Moscow, Idaho and I enjoy the same “cool beats” that inspire me to peddle a little faster. One song I play quite frequently is Barry Whites “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love”. It was during this song that I began to notice that as a female cyclist, I am a bit of a spectacle. I have been stared at by men before and I say this not to address my looks but just to let you know that this is not a new experience. I’m just a bit confused however. Objectification by bike? Doesn’t this seem a little odd? Last time I checked, bike helmets are about the least sexy adornment a girl can wear on her head. Sometimes, as I place my helmet on, buckling the clasp and usually pinching my finger in the process, I can’t help but feel as if I am placing a cheese head on my large German head. I learned I had a large head the first time I bought a baseball cap. The salesperson at Lids handed me a small and with each swap for a larger size, I felt a little bit more uncomfortable. Anyway, as with most physical movement, I sweat while I ride. Maybe this is the draw. I can’t imagine the dudes sitting behind their supped-up Civics are taking in the helmet or the streaks of grease on my calves. There is enough to watch out for when I precariously bike through fast moving traffic and oblivious drivers but now I have to be exposed like a woman walking past a construction site? Give me a break or at least give me the right away before you honk your horn as I fly past.