I didn't learn how to ride a bicycle until I was in my mid-twenties. Fraternal eight year old twins I was babysitting in graduate school, Micheal and Hanna, taught me how to in the spring of 1999. It was not until 2001, after I bought my first bike for 13 dollars from an old man in Shelby, NC, I fell hard for a bike.

My first bicycle started out as a rusty castaway but I nursed it back to health. I painted her (yes, "it" became a "she" sometime along the way) yellow and red. I hung a wicker basket at the front and named her Bug-Doodle. And off I went riding in our neighborhood in the evenings, peeking into people's lives through lighted windows.

Once I discovered the joy of riding a bike, I couldn't believe how long it took me to discover it. I loved the way the cool evening air felt against my face and the satisfaction that came after riding up particularly hilly parts. I learned to lift my hands up high, reach for moon hugs without fearing a crash into a parked car.

Then, she got stolen.

I distinctly remember hearing about other people's bikes being taken around that same time. I also remember thinking I didn't need to put Bug-Doodle in my apartment because no one in their right stealing mind would want her. After all, She was just an old bike. She stood out too much with her strange primary yellow/red paint job. She wasn't your run off the mill cool bike. She was distinct and loud.

The evening I discovered she was gone, I had told my husband I was going riding and stepped out the back door of our apartment looking forward to what the neighborhood windows had to tell me. It actually took a few minutes before it dawned on me. The emptiness of the space where she always sat didn't make sense. I looked around, walked a bit. Came back into the apartment. Stood.

Heartbreak.

I actually reported it to the police. When they asked about the dollar value of the bike, I didn't dare put forth a figure. Instead mumbled something about the bicycle being "priceless" and "having a huge sentimental value". For the next two weeks, I drove around our neighborhood and in a nearby ghetto looking and hoping I would spot her. No such luck.

It took a while before I warmed up to the idea of a second bike. When I was ready, I went and bought a green Huffy upright at K-mart for 79 dollars. I named her Grasshopper. The fact that she was new meant she came with good brakes.

On a bike, seasons are more palpable. A cup of tea at the end of the road on winter days. Ice crackling in a coveted glass of water in the Summer. The varied fragrance of spring and the sound of fall. I learned that on my daily ride back and forth to work.

I now live in China. I don't ride a bike here yet because I am afraid one of the crazy Chinese cab drivers would run me over. So, I walk.

I started this website because I am struck by how much, and in how many ways, bikes are used in this country. And because I want to pay homage to one of the most perfect human inventions.

So, here is to bicycles!