You ever spend 40 minutes in traffic, just to get to a place 12 minutes away? Or pay $10 to park outside your gym… where you go to pedal on a stationary bike?
Yeah. That’s called irony.
According to one study, the average American spends over 200 hours a year commuting by car. That’s nearly nine full days. You could binge all of “Game of Thrones” twice in that time. Or—you know—do something useful. Like switch to cycling.
Before your inner car gremlin throws a tantrum, hear me out. No, you don’t have to become “that guy” in Lycra shorts. You just need to stop letting four wheels boss you around.
Key Points:
- You don’t need a six-pack or a racing jersey to start cycling to work.
- Start small. Like really small. We’re talking one-day-a-week small.
- You’ll save time, cash, sanity, and possibly your soul.
- Electric bikes exist for a reason. Use one.
- Learn the shortcuts. Skip the death traps.
- Lock it like you love it.
Step One: Ditch the Car and Actually Start Commuting by Bike
Let’s get one thing straight. You don’t need to sell your car tomorrow and tattoo “Biker for Life” across your chest.
The shift to cycling is not a grand romantic gesture. It’s more like deleting that food delivery app—you’ll survive, you just forgot how easy it was.
You already know the roads. You already know where you go. What changes is how you get there. The trick is to pick a simple route and try it once. Then again next week. And then a third time. And suddenly you’re not “trying” anymore.
Don’t treat your first ride like a Tour de France stage. It’s not a competition. No one’s handing you a trophy. You’re just trying to get to work without needing a second shower.
Start once a week. Tuesdays work well. Nobody expects greatness on a Tuesday.
Why Electric Bikes Might Save Your Butt (Literally)
So you’re worried your legs will disintegrate after 10 minutes? Fair. Your body has been in a bucket seat for years.
Enter: the electric bike. Yes, purists scoff at them. Ignore those people. They still call pizza “junk food.”
An electric bike gives you a boost without stealing your pride. You still move. You still burn calories. You just don’t arrive looking like you survived a tsunami.
If you’re overwhelmed by options, don’t panic. Check out this helpful ebike buying guide. It breaks it all down without sounding like a robot in a spandex suit.
At BoltBikers, they actually care about making cycling easy. No gatekeeping. No jargon Olympics. Just clear info, solid advice, and actual help for new commuters who don’t want to join a Tour de Cult.
Gear You Need (And Gear That’s Just Trying Too Hard)
You don’t need a $3,000 carbon frame or “wind tunnel-tested” socks. Start with gear that works, not gear that screams.
Bare essentials:
- Helmet that fits and doesn’t make you look like a bobblehead
- Front and back lights. Get bright ones. Think UFO bright.
- U-lock. Not a cable. A real U-lock. Thieves laugh at cables.
- Waterproof backpack. Your laptop doesn’t love rain.
- Padded seat or padded shorts. Your butt will thank you.
Optional—but helpful:
- Rain poncho. Bonus points if it makes you look like a cycling wizard.
- Your back shouldn’t be a mud painting.
- You will drop your phone otherwise. Trust me.
Your First Ride Will Be Weird. That’s Normal.
You will question all your life choices halfway through your first ride. Why did I do this? Where am I? What’s that smell?
Here’s how to survive:
- Scout your route on the weekend. No pressure, no time limits.
- Stick to side streets. Main roads will chew you up.
- Take breaks. Sit down. Hydrate. Check Google Maps if needed.
- Accept that you’ll get lost at least once. It’s a rite of passage.
Treat your first ride like a first date. Aim to survive it, not impress anyone.
Weather Exists. Pretend You Didn’t Just Learn That
Cars spoil us. Climate control? Heated seats? You’re soft now.
Rain, wind, cold, heat—they all exist and they’re waiting to slap you. That’s fine. You’re not made of paper.
Here’s how to win the weather game:
Cold?
- Layer up. Thin, breathable layers beat one big sweater.
- Gloves, beanie under helmet, warm socks. Boom.
Rain?
- Waterproof jacket. Not “water-resistant.” Actual waterproof.
- Rain covers for your bag. Or get a waterproof bag and pretend you’re fancy.
Heat?
- Light-colored shirt. Breathable shorts.
- Apply twice. Be generous.
Pro tip: keep a change of clothes at work. Bonus points for baby wipes and dry socks.
You’re Going to Sweat—Let’s Deal With That Like Adults
You will sweat. Sometimes a little. Sometimes like you ran a marathon with a backpack full of bricks. Deal with it.
Don’t pretend you’re above it. Own it.
Here’s your post-ride rescue kit:
- Travel-size deodorant
- Baby wipes
- Dry T-shirt
- Comb or brush
- Breath mints (not for sweat, but still helpful)
If your office has a shower, great. If not, you’ll still survive. Most people can handle a little humanity. Just don’t smell like regret and despair.
Learn the Traffic Rules Before You Star in a Hospital Drama
You’re not invincible. You’re not on a Mario Kart level. Cars weigh a lot. They don’t care about your playlist or your dreams.
So learn the rules. And by learn, I mean actually know them.
- Ride with traffic. Not against.
- Stop at red lights. Seriously.
- Use hand signals. They’re not optional.
- Don’t swerve like a raccoon on espresso. Pick a line and hold it.
And wear bright stuff. High-viz isn’t fashion. It’s survival.
Lock Up Your Ride
You spent money on your wheels. Now protect them like they owe you rent.
Here’s the lock-up protocol:
- Always use a U-lock through the frame and a solid object.
- Add a cable lock for the front wheel.
- Remove your lights. Remove your seat if it detaches.
- Avoid parking in sketchy spots. Use racks in visible areas.
Thieves are lazy. Make your ride more annoying to steal than the next one.
When to Go Full-Time and Leave the Car Keys at Home
You’ll know when it clicks. Suddenly the idea of parking feels prehistoric. Gas prices seem offensive. Morning traffic looks like a punishment.
You’ll think, “I can do this every day.”
Start with one day a week. Then go up to two. Add a third once you’re confident. By week six, you’ll laugh at car alarms like an ex you forgot.
Don’t rush the shift. Let it grow naturally.
People Will Judge You. Let Them
Your neighbor will raise an eyebrow. Your coworker will say, “Wow, you bike? That’s… cool?” Your friend will crack a joke about spandex.
Smile. You’re saving money, saving time, and saving your own mental health.
They’ll come around when they’re still circling for parking and you’re already sipping coffee at your desk.
Final Word: You’re Not a Cyclist. You’re a Commuter with Better Priorities
Forget the labels. Forget the subculture. You don’t need to post sunrise selfies or wear racing jerseys.
You’re just someone who decided to stop wasting time, money, and brain cells behind a steering wheel.
You’re now in the club that knows traffic doesn’t need to ruin your life. Welcome.