Flying on Two Wheels: My Ride to Work

Flying on Two Wheels: My Ride to Work Cycling

Kiran Kulkarni 🗓️ 3/06/2026

When people learn that I cycle to the office, the reactions are almost always the same: surprise, smirks, or disbelief.  

For me, the ride is about freedom, balance, and starting and ending my day on my own terms. It helps me save time, clear my head, and add a little joy to the routine.

Any savings are just a bonus; the real reward is the ride itself.

Everyday Objections, My Simple Fixes

Traffic: I ride defensively and predictably, following the rules and staying alert for reckless drivers.

Safety Gear: Gloves for grip, sunglasses to protect from glare and dust, a helmet for head safety, plus lights and a reflective strap to stay visible during the occasional night rides.  

Dust & Pollution: I avoid rush hour when possible. And when I have the time and energy, I pick cleaner routes, even if they’re longer. The ORR Cycling track is one of my favourites.  

Heat: I hydrate well and wear simple, breathable sportswear.  

Effort: As the Velominati put it in Rule #5: Harden The F*** Up, sometimes you just need to push through.* I push harder when I feel strong, take it easy when I don’t. Skipping a day doesn’t mean failure; it’s just part of the rhythm.

Bad Weather: Summers in Hyderabad are harsh, so I avoid midday rides, carry lemonade or electrolyte drinks, and cool off at traffic signals. 

Winters are kinder; just a couple of minutes to warm up and I’m fine. 

When the monsoon arrives, I switch to my old MTB beater bike, fitted with metal mudguards, so splashes and the dreaded road spray are a non-issue. 

I carry a raincoat to keep my backpack dry and wear rubber boots, which I swap for formal shoes at the office.

Sweat: A skull cap under the helmet wicks sweat away and keeps me comfortable during the ride. As I near my destination, I slow down and the wind clears the excess. I freshen up in the restroom with a quick wipe down using a wet paper towel and wait for the moisture to evaporate. This is called a bird‑bath. It’s a routine that lets a commuter cyclist slip into the office like a secret agent. The last trace of the ride disappears, and I blend in with colleagues who arrived by relatively boring means.