What we talk about when we talk about biking

One word: Helmets

Marta, named after a character in the TV series Arrested Development, is so far the only vintage bicycle I owned. Years before the pandemic, I loaned — not lent — loaned (and I use that word for emphasis) her to a bike commuter only to find out later that he had managed to abuse it without telling me. When I found out, I didn’t talk to him for a year.

(This was a piece written in late 2018 — for free — and was published in a bicycle group’s newsletter.)

Roy refuses to wear a helmet whenever he goes out riding his bike. 

And no one can do anything about it — not the government, since there are no laws requiring it; not the parentals, because he has flown the coop; and certainly not myself, because I don't want to stop him from paying for my drinks.  

"It's unnecessary," Roy, a fellow bike commuter, told me one night not long ago. "When you fall off your bike, your head isn't likely to hit anything anyway. And when you do fall, your body, let alone your head won't immediately hit the pavement." 

I nodded and changed the subject, lest he change his mind about paying for my beers. 

We then proceeded to waste the night away by ranting about our jobs. 

Roy said he wants to murder some of his co-workers. 

It was a sentiment I was familiar with, having previously worked with a humorless bureaucrat who holds the record for having the world's longest stick lodged up his ass. 

That night, job angst took more airtime than meaningful conversation between two bike commuters, especially one about helmet use — something that the bike community needs to talk about. 

Yes, helmets. 

And if you ask me, this is a question that shouldn't even be brought up at all. 

Anyone who travels on two wheels should always wear protective head gear. Period. (And that also goes for our motorcyclist friends. But that's another story.) 

However, as with many policies, helmet use has tradeoffs. 

Those who wear them are likely to ride recklessly, according to an article published by The Guardian in March 2017. 

"It seems that the perception of reduced risk when a helmet is worn can both prompt riders to be more reckless with their own safety and nudge drivers into being less careful towards cyclists," said the lengthy piece written by Peter Walker entitled "The big bike helmet debate: 'You don't make it safe by forcing cyclists to dress for urban  warfare.'" [See: Safe urban warfare]

The same story also explained at length the experiments about risk perception and helmet use undertaken in 2006 by Dr. Ian Walker, a psychologist at the University of Bath. The experiments involved using a computer, an electronic distance gauge, and a long, brunette wig to check whether drivers "gave more room to female cyclists."

"Results showed motorists tended to pass him more closely when he had the helmet on, coming on average of 8.5 centimeters," the article said. "This may lead drivers to believe that cyclists with helmets are more serious, experienced, and predictable than those without." 

However, as far as cycling in Metro Manila is concerned, these studies are arguably neither here nor there. They offer very few insights useful enough to help those who ride bicycles inside and outside the National Capital Region. 

After all, the habits, the moods, and the skills of Filipino drivers are as diverse as the members of the whole Filipino cycling community itself. 

Some wear helmets, some don't; some use cleats, others sandals; some prefer foldies, others swear by fixies; some go on bikepacking tours, others take recreational rides. 

And there are those who, like myself, commute by bike, if only to replicate the rush of arriving at a destination powered by nothing but a pedal and a set of two wheels. 

It's never the same trip twice no matter how often you've been on the road always travelled. 

But I guess the way I feel about helmets is best expressed by a story. 

Three years and one job ago, I took Marta, my restored classic twelve-speed Bridgestone road bike, to my place of employment. 

With a sack in front and a pannier attached to a rack at the back, I took the leftmost lane and sped downhill on a familiar slope. I let her rip. As far as I could remember, it was one of the fastest I've ever gone while riding in Metro Manila. 

As Marta and I ran with the wind, an oncoming police car on my left made a slow right turn, cutting into our path. I hit the brakes in time but they weren't strong enough to prevent me from slamming into the front passenger door. 

The police car stopped, prompting the officers to pour out of the vehicle and offer their apologies. 

No one was hurt, save perhaps for my slightly bruised ego. Nor was there any damages on the vehicle nor on Marta. 

Guess what? 

On that day, moments after my ride was rudely interrupted, I felt safe that I was wearing a helmet. 

As for my friend Roy, well, I hope to change his mind soon. And next time around, I'm buying.