Junior year is a magical time in ones life. What makes it extra special is the fact that most students, like me, are legally old enough to drive a car to school. But unlike most other students my age, I don’t have a car. I don’t have a license. I don’t even have a parent who drives me. No, I have a bike.

Since seventh grade I have been riding my bike to school. It used to represent freedom and independence. I didn’t have to wait outside school every day while other students waited for rides. I could go where I wanted when I wanted. But the novelty soon died out around sophomore year. I, like many other students, got my learners permit and dreamed of driving alone one day. But that day still has not come for me.

I ride to school every morning in the cold and sometimes rain. By the time I get to school my ears hurt from the cold and my fingers feel like they will fall off in a frost bitten horror. If I pass anyone I know bringing my ride to the bike cages, I get sarcastic remarks like “Nice bike” or “Can you give me a ride to my house” or “Wow, when did you get so cool”.

The comments are not meant to be mean, but still, it isn’t appreciated after coming two miles in the cold and not being able to get to first period on time.

Biking itself has its challenges. I usually replace my tires every two months or so because I run over glass on the bike path next to the tracks. Then there are drivers who have vendettas to make life hard for people biking on the roads. And, as I stated earlier, we are completely open to the elements. That may not sound bad until you realize a cold day becomes even colder when you had the wind chill from riding faster that 10 mph.

One of the worst parts of being a biker is being associated with ‘bikers’. I’m not talking about those people with leather and facial hair, rolling on Harleys. I’m talking about those adults who dress like Lance Armstrong and zip around on $1000 plus racing bikes even though they don’t participate in bike races.

They coat themselves in spandex and wear flashy oddly shaped racing helmets. They jack their seats up so that bars are practically below their knees and don these plastic shoes that allow them to grip the pedals better. They are the ones who complain about not having enough bike paths and how drivers don’t respect their right to the road while at the same time they show no interest in paying attention to the road, take up lanes in traffic, and make fast and sudden turns in front of cars. It is no wonder drivers take their frustration out on bikers like me; I would to if I had to deal with these spandex wearing Tour de France wannabes. And I have had to deal with them when I do drive with my permit and I can vouch for other drivers when saying that they are not fun to have to share the road with.

Now I know I have complained about biking but I do realize it is a luxury to be able to bike to school. For right now it serves its purposes. I may complain but I do enjoy biking around. I will continue to bike about until I finally get my license and can myself make fun of people who still bike. Just kidding, the smart remarks really get old and are not funny in the first place. I realize I love biking and encourage more students to bike to school and around town. Of course, not if you wear spandex and think you are Lance’s twin.