When I decided to spend a year in northern India for my PhD fieldwork, one activity I did not want to give up was cycling. On the surface, there are many reasons to follow the example that India itself is setting, that is, to abandon the bicycle in favor of a motorbike, car, or public transport: traffic is thick, drivers are aggressive, the heat and humidity are dangerously intense in the summer months, and the air pollution often thick enough that one wonders if exercise might be doing the body harm rather than good. Yet, one of the lessons of years of living abroad — and in particular of realizing that some of those years were better lived than others — is that, while adapting to the environment is important and itself a source of meaning and understanding, one should not to give up all of the activities that make one feel whole. Not to mention, I have too often returned from previous trips to South Asia deconditioned and feeling like a slug. So, in 2018, I vowed to cycle in India.
The attitude
Overcome inertia: I lived in Chowk, the heart of the old city, in a house set back from the main roads. Although motorbikes ply these lanes, cars simply don't fit. Thus, the dominant sonic feature of the Indian cityscape — car horns — fade into the background, allowing the (sometimes electronically amplified) sounds of other aspects of human life — prayer, play, and domestic quarrels — to reassert themselves. Given the relative peace, leaving home and getting on the bike was often unattractive. The key was to remind myself of how good I feel after some exercise and how much a ride in the countryside or along the Gomti river could transform my day for the better.
The equipment
I debated bringing a folding bike such as a Brompton or Bike Friday. The expense of a good folding bike, uncertainty about how it would do on Indian roads, and a desire to travel as light as possible led me to buy an inexpensive Indian mountain bike upon arrival in Lucknow.
As of this writing, there is one shop in Lucknow that sells bicycles of an international standard. I visited to test-ride several brands of mountain bikes: a Cannondale, a GT, and one from Indian brand Montra. I nearly purchased a low-end Cannondale for around $800 but, unsure that I would use such a bicycle after returning home and ambivalent about putting in the effort to sell it in Lucknow at the end of my trip, I settled on a Montra. For around $300, I walked away with a new, aluminum framed mountain bike with 27" wheels, 50mm of front suspension that sometimes functioned, and bottom-shelf Shimano components.
The bicycle was sufficient for my purposes. The front shifter required enough force to operate that I discovered that I have some arthritis in my left thumb, presumably the after-effect of some long-forgotten sports injury, but otherwise the bike was fine. A mountain bike was well-suited for roads in the city and countryside alike but a gravel/adventure bike would have provided a better balance of cycling efficiency and rough-roads ruggedness.
Apart from the bike and a few accessories, I also made good use of a Respro Ultralight pollution mask.
The cycling
The cycling was good, if intense. Traffic in the city mostly moves slowly, and indeed I was often faster than a majority of other vehicles. Roads where traffic moves quickly tend to have multiple lanes, with slower traffic and bicycles keeping far left, thus segregating users by speed. Nevertheless, Indian traffic is like a rowdy dancefloor around closing time than, and conditions demand constant attentiveness, confidence, and instant response. Although two good hotel bars are tantalizingly close to the Gomti river cycleway, there was no way I was going to take on nighttime traffic in Chowk with a beer or two in my belly.
Regrets
My main regret is that I did not take a proper cycle tour. Rather, I lived vicariously through journals posted on Crazy Guy and spent hours poring over routes to the Nepal border. In particular, I wondered if it would be possible to ride along the Sharda canal system that extends from Lucknow to Pilibhit near the border with Nepal's Mahendranagar district. I would encourage anyone looking for an adventurous tour in Uttar Pradesh to consider exploring along the canal, which I suspect has potential to become a classic long-distance bicycle route in India.
