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Alison Skirtboston

Skirt! Boston editor

Skirt! is evidence that the universe is paying attention: I spent the last six years at mach speed, whether finishing college (Emerson) while writing full time for Boston Globe West (2001-2004) or editing the Boston Parents’ Paper during the day while holding down the steady gig writing for Globe ...

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Alison, editor

My Cannondale might have kick-started this guilt-free diet thing. Back in May, I really wanted to ride to work during Bike Week. I managed one day out of five and rationalized it was better than nothing.

Since then, I’ve tried to make every week Bike Week. I have a rather pleasant 12-mile commute that requires little more than self discipline for biking (I have to get out the door 40 minutes earlier than usual and pack clothes, my lunch, shower stuff – and the family’s only hairdryer). Of course it also takes some planning, because I drive plenty of miles for photo shoots and product scouting for skirt, which isn’t possible on a bike. So far, I’ve been able to ride at least once a week, sometimes twice. 

The problem with riding to work is that it makes saints out of sinners: it’s easy to feel virtuous and better than those zipping past in their Range Rovers and single-occupant Mercedes – not to mention the Hummers. I try to keep in mind that anything as simple as not being able to find my sunglasses might throw a wrench in my morning, changing my commute from virtuous biking to world-ruining solo commuting in a 2,000-pound vehicle that gets about 20 miles to the gallon.

But I’m not ready to give ground to those who are unfriendly to bikers, or who are unaware of others on the road. (read this Salon article that equates even hands-free cell phone use with drunk driving!) The first day I biked, I confronted a woman in a minivan who had nearly run me off the road. She was very apologetic, saying she tried to give me a lot of room when she was passing but swerved back into her (OUR!) lane when a car approached from the other direction. Today I knocked on the side of a minivan stopped at a light to remind the driver to give me room to pass him on the shoulder of the road (and wondered if he’d later run me down for doing so).

Mostly I wonder if being the only bike commuter  on the road is a futile gesture (I see plenty of pleasure riders and there’s a big difference). Does it make anyone else think, “hey, I could be breathing fresh air, getting some exercise and not burning fuel once in a while” because they see me huffing up hills?

I guess I have to do it only because I enjoy it. The scenery you see on a bike (and miss in a car) is worth it. In fact, THIS IS NOT A JOKE – this morning I saw a huge crayfish crossing the road near the Charles River. I haven’t seen one of those since I used to hunt them as a barefoot kid. It made my morning commute so worthwhile.

I had to wait a couple of minutes to see if he got across the road safely... I don’t think any of the cars that drove by him had any idea that the crayfish was there.