There comes a time in every Canberra transplant's life when they must make a decision: to bike or not to bike.
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For me, that moment came towards the end of last year. Sick of getting lapped by speedy and exuberant cyclists as I slowly pounded the pavement around Lake Burley Griffin, I decided it was time to join them.
The only stumbling block, and admittedly it was a pretty significant one, was that I had no idea whether I still knew how to ride a bike.
Sure, I learned as a youngster but I can't say it became an enduring hobby or preferred mode of transport.
I grew up in a hilly suburb of Sydney, where steep streets had nicknames like The Killer Hill and Travelator of Death. Riding a bike to the corner shop worked up a triathlon-worthy sweat.
Plus, lycra-clad, espresso-sipping cyclists are about as esteemed as Indian myna birds in my home town. The city's design largely doesn't make room for them and their relationship with stressed-out motorists can be fractious at best.
Abuse is hurled, middle fingers are raised, horns are beeped. It gets messy.
So my decision to suss out a potential set of new wheels signalled a serious shift in attitude, and one that was met with varying levels of enthusiasm.
Encouragingly, my mother was one of the most strident doubters.
"I'm thinking of buying a bike," I told her.
Silence. Dead silence. Lots of it. I thought the phone had cut out.
"Hello?"
"Yes. I'm here. Megan, do you remember when you were learning to ride a bike? You weren't very good."
I gave her a chance to redeem herself, to reassess her version of events from 20 years ago. But she refused to backtrack.
"Everything else, I'm top of your fan club. But I was there, and you couldn't do it very well."
My Canberra friends were more optimistic.
"That's why they say, it's just like riding a bike, right?"
Yes, apparently that is why they say that. But I wasn't quite so sure.
A couple of weeks ago I decided it was time to confront my fears head-on. I borrowed a bike from a friend and gave it a whirl.
It wasn't great. There were wobbles. But I was upright and travelling forwards, which I felt was a promising start.
I might not be zooming past the pros on the paths around Lake Burley Griffin, or expertly flying along beside traffic on Northbourne Avenue this summer. But give me time.
Like they say, it's just like riding a...
