A cursory glance down any given street in the French Quarter will tell you that biking is a way of life in this neighborhood. A city older than our country itself, the Quarter was built with horses, not horse-power, in mind. Its narrow one-way streets and meager parking lots make pedaling from point A to point B quicker and more hassle-free than driving. Once you start noticing the bikes, it becomes a little like bird watching--sleek and fast hybrids, rickety Schwinn cruisers, the rare tandem or tall bike. Some are simple and elegant, while others are mobile found art pieces, affixed with Mardi Gras beads, bottle caps, milk crates, and sarcastic bumper stickers.

I'll go ahead and admit it. At first, I didn't really "get" the whole bike thing. I got introduced to the culture of bikes when I started dating Marc, Uber Mechanic of All Things Two-Wheeled. Before that, the thought of giving any more attention to my bike than it took to determine if the tires needed air had never occurred to me. The bike I owned at the time was a hybrid, bought new as a college graduation present to myself with the promise that I would be more green and get more exercise by riding it instead of driving everywhere. It was a means to an end, really, and nothing very special in and of itself. What exactly did it mean to be "into bikes"?

As it turns out, it means quite a lot. Although Marc certainly appreciates the untarnished beauty of a brand new bike sitting on a store rack, he much prefers to spend his time refurbishing and riding "junk bikes" made from salvaged parts found at bike collectives and (more often than not) on people's curbs. This is what he has already begun doing at our community house, having made our backyard a sort of free clinic for our neighbors with flat tires, busted gears, and wobbly handlebars. The more I discovered about bike cultures, and especially bike clubs like Rat Patrol, the more I saw principles of the Kingdom of God displayed in it. There is the metaphor of creating something new and purposeful and beautiful from scraps that the world has deemed trash. There is the God-given sense of adventure in treasure-hunting for the necessary parts. There is the rejection of capitalism in favor of a system of reciprocal provision and learning the skills of self-sufficiency--many bike lovers have a no-pay policy dictating that they will not accept money to build a bike. They will, however, be more than happy to teach you how to build your own.

In the end, though, I think the thing that I like best about bike culture in New Orleans is the opportunity it affords us to level the social caste system a little bit. For starters, there is something inherently down to earth (no pun intended) about pedaling your way down the street, exposed to the elements and jarred with every bump and pothole in the road. Secondly, there are no "status symbol bikes" with which you can buy popularity or esteem, or if there are we certainly don't see them around our block. The bikes that are considered cool are the ones that display a sense of craftsmanship--the ones that people have sweated and bled over, lovingly turning a simple mode of transportation into a celebration of themselves, their values, and their passions.

I'm so excited that our bike ministry has been one of the first things to get off the ground, and I look forward to seeing it grow. If you would like to be a part of what we're doing in the bike culture of the Quarter, here are some ways to help:

1. Donate your used/broken/chopped up bicycles or bicycle parts to the House of the Rising Son. E-mail brent@houseoftherisingson.org to schedule a drop-off time.

2. Donate to help start up our bike bank fund, so that we can bless our neighbors with free repairs even when it is necessary to buy a part. Go to the "Help us out!" page on our website at www.houseoftherisingson.org to donate via Paypal, or mail us a check. Be sure to designate "for bike bank" on the donation!

3. Skillshare! Come visit us and learn how to build and repair your own bikes, so that we can help promote bike culture and maintenance all over the city.