Fietsen

We've been in the Netherlands for more than two years. In that time, I've rode my bike nearly every day- running the dogs, going to work when I didn't work at home, shopping of all varieties. The normal refrigerator here is slightly larger than a dorm fridge so food shopping is almost a daily event. This I actually like because it gets me out of the house and the food is fresher when you go to the market every day. You would think that all this biking (fietsen) would have slimmed me to Jack Lalane-like proportions but helaas. Do you realise he is still selling juicers? And looking great? Anyway, when I began this biking regimen I had the idea that by the end of our sojourn I would be Lance Armstronging my way around the Pyrenees but the fact is this flat land doesn't offer a lot of cardiovascular exertion even when you are schlepping home a crate of delicious beverages. Yes, I've already done the arithmetic on that equation thank you.
What really struck me about Dutch cycling is that everyone, and I mean everyone, rides everywhere- regardless of weather, number of bags (or children) attached to handlebars, amount of air in tires, or the prescence of an actual tire on the rims. I've seen the following items being transported by bike (and by this I mean held with one hand behind you on the rack over the back wheel while your other hand steers/brakes and rolls a cigarette): televisions, computer hard drives, full grown adults, another bike, and the record for children-4 (in tiny seat mounted behind handlebars, on rack over back tire, and two in an attached covered trailer).
The etiquette for riding is something that I'm pretty sure you have to be born here for it to truly resonate within you. The Dutch ride next to each other and talk casually, hold hands, put arms around each other's shoulders, eat, drink, roll tobacco, and effortlessly weave in among each other with no outwardly discernable rules. No helmets, very few mountain bikes, and the only accident I've ever seen was a girl who rode out into an intersection while talking on her cellphone (grr..) got hit by a car, bounced off the pavement and rode away.
Granted, the infrastructure is awesome- dedicated bike lanes and traffic signals on all but the smallest streets; but what amazes me after our time here is two things: why I'm still as slow as I was when we arrived and consistently get passed by grandmas, and the Dutch near-imperviousness to rain in all forms. The main reason I look like a foreigner for most of the year is that I always wear gloves and a hat (like my momma said and Alaska proved to me) and the Dutch never do unless it is snowing/freezing rain enough that you can't see what everyone has on anyway. The first year we were here, we toured some areas near the North Sea coast with a contact of Katharine's who was an expert birder. We had friends from Alaska visiting, and while they commented on the wet cold, this guy walked around in the freezing harsh wind with nary a scarf, pointing out the branta leucopsis as ice literally froze in his hair.
I still try to nonchalantly go with flow when cruising through the busier sections of town on my bike, but I inevitably confront someone on a collision course and awkwardly wobble back and forth and mumble unintelligibly (which is actually a pretty local trait) as I pass in my hat and gloves.