The word “Fahrrad” reminds me of King Fahd of Saudi Arabia. But no, it’s not about that. Ein Fahrrad just means “a bicycle.” And this long-overdue blog post is about my bicycle and what it’s like to use it around town. Whoa. Calm down. You’re too excited.

Last fall, I bought a used bicycle for €170 from B7 Cycling Center, a shop that hires former inmates and trains them as mechanics. The brand name on my bike’s frame says “Heavy Tool.” Literal translations are hilarious, aren’t they?

My friend Florian—one of a trillion Florians—taught me an alternative name for Fahrrad. The word is “Drahtesel,” which translates to “wire donkey.” That’s good stuff.

Here’s my donkey:

It’s not fancy, just a little commuter bike. But it does have a few tricks up its sleeve. The front light is powered by kinetic energy—a common feature in Europe, but something that disappeared in America decades ago.

It also has a tail light connected to the same circuit. I’m looking forward to using it again in the fall. During summer, there’s no need since the sun doesn’t set until around 9:00 PM.

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Commuting on My Fahrrad

I commute on my Fahrrad a few times a week. It’s only a 15-minute ride, and the route is flat and streamlined for bicycles.

Austria takes bicycles seriously. Kids under 12 must pass a test to ride on the street—it’s like a driver’s license for bikes. Drunk biking is also taken seriously: if you’re caught, you lose your right to drive a car.

Bicycles aren’t allowed on sidewalks unless the sidewalk is marked for it. While I haven’t seen the Polizei enforce this rule, I’ve heard stories. Many sidewalks are split, with pedestrians on the right and bikes on the left.

Bicycles even get their own traffic lights. Here’s a sidewalk light with a walking figure and a bike icon side by side:

Even crosswalk buttons have little bicycle icons on them:

And here’s a common sign marking a split sidewalk, along with lane indicators painted on the ground:

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Biking Culture in Austria

Most stores have bike racks, and they’re heavily used. You see older folks biking around far more often than in America. Here’s a guy who looks like he’s in his 70s, loading groceries onto his trusty steed. Er braucht nicht auto—verstehst?

At my office, there’s a bike rack outside the building. Most people lock their bikes, but a few don’t. It’s surprisingly trusting. I’ve never heard of a stolen bike here, although leaving one unlocked in the city center is riskier.

Our office building has six floors. The elevator signs show that the garage includes a bike room. It’s still funny to me that the first floor is called “zero,” and the basement is “minus one.”

The bike room is accessed with a key card.

If you visit the minus one basement parking garage, you’ll see it’s nicely marked and color-coded: yellow for bikes, blue for cars.

Here’s the inside of the bike room. Spacious! Before COVID-19, it was tough to find a spot. Now it’s practically empty.

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Thoughts on Bicycles and King Fahd

So now you know all about bicycles—first-class Austrian transportation. It’s funny that the word “Fahrrad” reminds me of King Fahd, since Saudi Arabia is the world’s largest oil producer. Bikes are a solution to our oil addiction—something King Fahd probably wouldn’t have appreciated. Maybe my subconscious enjoys the irony.