The young man and woman locking up their bikes across from Orchestra Hall looked respectable enough on Friday, June 9, an evening of Mozart, Debussy — and a 50 percent off coupon for a subsequent concert in downtown Minneapolis provided cyclists were sporting a helmet or other gear.
The woman had thrown a jersey dress over her bike shorts; the young man wore a button-down shirt to offset his cut-off shorts. My husband and I, by contrast, were in full cycling regalia, sweaty jerseys and all, and we noticed — or I did — the disapproving glances, the quick up-and-down appraisals that women still inflict on one another.
This was the first time we had tried the Minnesota Orchestra’s Bike to Orchestra Hall program. Would I do it again? In an elevated heartbeat! And I would plan more thoroughly.
Let me share a few tips, so you can avoid our newbie mistakes.
1. Map your route. As a St. Paulite, I am loathe to concede any advantage to our shinier, more ambitious sister city. Hands down, Minneapolis has St. Paul beat on bike-ability. The cruise downhill from our home in Merriam Park to Mississippi River Boulevard was the only part of the 6.2-mile trip where we weren’t on off-street trails or on-street lanes, some of them protected. Planning the route made our trip both safer and more enjoyable.
2. Dress for success. That term harks back to the early ’80s, when I was a young woman in a workforce still suspicious of female professionals. In this case, it means getting to the concert early — as we failed to do — so you can catch your breath and dry your sweat. It means taking advantage of the lockers where I could have stashed my backpack and biking shoes, if only we had allowed the time.
It means gearing up to weather the stares of an upper-crust audience accustomed to viewing the orchestra as an elegant evening out. (Note to marketing department: Don’t sell this good idea only to young people and on the website. Put an eye-catching ad in the 52-page Playbill, the June edition of which carried not a word or a warning that a growing number of concert-goers may be showing up in shorts.)
3. Pack lightly but strategically. I remembered my glasses but forgot Kleenex to deal with the allergies that set in during the first few measures of Manuel de Falla’s Interlude and Dance from La Vida Breve. My husband, who perspires heavily, wishes he had packed a clean shirt. “I feared I might be offensive to my neighbors,” he said later.
Orchestra Hall sells coffee, tea, red wine and iced cocktails, but you can’t bring any of them inside the hall. Only unheated beverages, without ice or staining power, are allowed. Bring your own water, unless you want lukewarm soda pop or white wine.
4. Consider your safety. Biking to Orchestra Hall in the early evening sunlight was fun. Coming home in the dark was another matter. It was 10 p.m. by the time we hit the bathrooms and packed up. I was sleepy, and I didn’t feel safe navigating the eastern edge of downtown, even with my husband’s presence and my full-range bike light.
Having my Metro Transit Go-To Card on hand allowed us to cycle the six blocks north to Fifth Street and take a Green Line train to Fairview, after which we had about a 10-minute ride.
5. Enjoy the experience! Mozart’s Concerto No. 23 in A major for Piano and Orchestra was both fresh and familiar. The playing of pianist Xiayin Wang, a last-minute addition, was energetic and inspired under the direction of BBC Philharmonic conductor Juanjo Mena.
When we returned to our seats after intermission, the properly dressed couple to my left greeted us warmly. “We took your bikes out for a ride and put them back,” the man said, grinning. “It looks like fun,” added his wife, wearing a pearl bracelet and sparkly shoes. Once I got over my self-consciousness, it really was.