Chained to a “Do Not Enter Sign” not two blocks from my house near East Sacramento is a Ghost Bike. The all white and wheelless ten speed would have met my gaze with some confusion and wonder, had I not seen the body lying near that same post the previous Sunday.  I may be slow, but I made the connection; this was a memorial to the father of two who was hit and killed there last weekend.  Depending who you ask, ghost bikes were created sometime in 2002 or 2003. A bicycle is painted all white and then locked to a street sign near the crash site where a bicyclist has lost their life.  These memorials have since appeared in over 100 locations throughout the world including: New York, San Francisco, Seattle, Chicago and London.

In what I can only describe as bitter irony or tragically bad timing for the poor journalist who wrote the article, an entry appeared in a popular East Sacramento paper this month commenting on the extraordinary safety of bike riding as though this type of casualty is some sort of urban myth.  After all, May is bike safety month. And while striking up a conversation with a couple doing a helmet-less wine tasting tour of Napa by bike this weekend (there’s a way to kick off some bike safety), I realized the urban myth has grown out of a mindset prevalent with the thirty-some-things of today.  Those of us who grew up before helmet laws. Those of us who still believe that helmets should be reserved for that hardcore bombing run down the back trail of a mountain, where the main danger is that ass-over-teakettle thing that happens when you hit a rock going about thirty miles per hour – not tootling about on a public street on a lazy Sunday morning. Ask my husband, he thinks wearing a helmet while riding a beach cruiser is stupid (sorry dear, but you are one of those thirty-something-ers).

See, you can’t be thinking about YOU and how fast you are riding and how safe you are.  It’s a hard concept for us humans to get through our thick (or as it turns out, not so thick) skulls.  You have to be thinking about them. You see they are driving a car and just got their double shot latte that needs just a tad more sugar, they just got that text and must immediately respond with the obligatory “LOL,” or they are one of those multitasking moms who can put on kid tights and sew on a button while driving with her knee. They drive a 5000 lb car; you own a 28 pound bike. They always win. Trust me, the ghost bike is creepy; avoid the white bike and wear a helmet!