It’s no secret that there’s nary a street in Beijing that isn’t littered with yellow, green, blue, or some other rainbow-colored bikes available to the masses, meaning getting round the capital is always a breeze. Unfortunately, many people – particularly foreigners – struggle with using them properly. But have no fear, for here are five tips on how to get the most out of the city’s bike-share apps.

Real-name authentication

Before you can even scan a bike, you need to submit a real-name authentication. The process for Chinese citizens is relatively easy and requires nothing more than an ID number. For expats, however, it’s not so straightforward and I’ve had to pay for my foreign friends’ bike rides on more than one occasion, after they couldn’t figure out the sign-up process. Nevertheless, it’s not so hard once you understand how it works.

Typical display of real-name authentication (哈喽出行)

For foreigners, begin by entering your full name, followed by your passport ID. For Hong Kong/Macao citizens, a Mainland Travel Permit for Hong Kong and Macao Residents ID is more ideal. Next, you have to upload a photo of yourself holding the ID card/passport. Take care to ensure that both your face and your passport/ID details are clearly visible.

Whereas Chinese citizens are granted immediate access to the platform, foreigners have to wait for several workdays for the real-name authentication to be approved. Therefore, make sure to begin the process before you actually need to use the bikes, lest it fails you during an emergency.

Lock the bikes!

Time is money. And in this case, half an hour is worth RMB 1.5. So, what happens when you forget to lock the bike? Chances are someone else will take your bike and use it for another few hours, with all the costs falling to you!

Every public bike ride starts with a “click,” when the lock around the back tire unlocks itself, thus allowing the bike to move.

Locked mode (Meituan bike)

When you’re done with your ride, push the knob  – which was released when unlocked – back to its previous position. This will lock the bike and indicate that your journey has ended. The time between unlocking and locking the bike will decide your fee, so always remember to push the knob!

Unlocked mode (Meituan bike). Note the different position of the yellow knob from above.

Where’s the bike?

Despite the absurd proliferation of bikes around town, there will be times when you can’t find one to save your life (usually when you urgently need one). Of course, you can simply wander around and pray that there’s one on the next corner. But a much more efficient way is to let the apps do that for you.

Locations of Meituan bikes

When you open your bike-sharing app, you’ll be presented with a map. A pin indicates where you are, while all the bikes indicate… well, bikes that are near you. Note that you’ll only see bikes for the app that you’re using, so don’t go looking for a Hello Bike on Meituan’s platform. What’s more, if you drag the pin around, the map will refresh and show available bikes around the new location.

The “standardized” areas

There’s nothing more confusing – or aggravating – than having a bike that won’t lock. Especially when it’s the first time you encounter this problem. More often than not, however, it’s because you’re trying to park in a designated “no bike parking” zone, which the city is actually implementing more and more.

Area of standardized parking (shaded)

On certain parts of the map, some areas are shaded, denoting a “standardized parking area.” If you try locking your bike in this area, chances are it won’t let you. Instead, you need to find a specific lane that can be seen on the map. Only then can you properly lock your bike.

Public-bike lanes shown

An actual public-bike lane

Quantity over quality

Always have more than one bike-sharing app. There will always be a time when you can’t find a single yellow bike around you, but the green kind, whose app you never bothered to download, is everywhere. It’s best to have at least two different bike-sharing apps, that way you can always find a bike that you can use.

Now, go out and have fun with those rainbow bikes!

KEEP READING: Bike for Your Buck: Unlimited Pass on Hellobike

Images: Caroline He

In many ways, Beijing is my dream city. I’d always wanted to live somewhere that young and the old alike flooded the streets on their bicycles, headed everywhere and nowhere in particular. Then I came to Beijing and that little dream was realized: not only were tons of people cycling everywhere, but I also had my pick of short-term bike rental services and that cost a pittance. I cannot, however, say that the rental bike scene is perfect: they are often left on street corners in various states of disrepair, with many companies such as Ofo going out of business in recent years.

Of course, the alternative to renting sometimes unreliable public share bikes is buying your own, and thanks to a long history of cycling, the Chinese bicycle industry is booming. However, discerning customers these days look for more than just a good value for money when it comes to buying a set of wheels. The ethics behind what’s on offer, and the materials used to make them, also come into play. In light of this, some innovative minds across the globe have taken it upon themselves to not only reinvent production, but also the materials used in the production of quality bikes.

One such innovator is Jing Chuan Hua, otherwise known as ‘Ginger’. After living in Beijing for over 20 years and working as a computer programming lecturer, he decided to seek out a new path in life that combined his passion for bicycles with a quality and unique product. At his workshop in Beijing, Jing creates bamboo bikes, teaches the next generation of riders how to make them themselves, and reminisces on his youthful triumph of cycling from his hometown of Xian to Beijing in 11 days.

Barefoot and fancy-free! Ginger on one of his bamboo creations

What is your history with bikes and biking in general?

When I was a college student, I rode a bike from Xi’an to Beijing and it took all of 11 days to complete the journey. That was my first long-distance riding experience. I also like to ride a bike which I suppose is rather obvious [laughs].

How did you get the idea to make bikes using bamboo?

Bamboo is nature’s steel and a wonderful eco-friendly material. It is especially meaningful in China where bamboo has long been a part of our culture. Bamboo is widely planted in South of China and grows fast and is very cheap to produce. It’s an ideal substitute for steel and wood in many cases, and given the current global climate crisis, it is worth considering further.

“Bamboo is nature’s steel and a wonderful eco-friendly material.”

What is the creative process? How do you come up with your bike frame designs?

You need six steps to complete a bamboo bicycle. There are two key steps to make the bike frame, one is to fix the frame. There is another step to complete the jig for the bike, and another step is to reinforce the joint with carbon fiber.

What sort of clients do you target with your bike creations?

My clients are people from all walks of life and not just students. At my workshop, I encourage everyone to make their own bicycle. It is a wonderful experience. You will “ride with pride” when you build your own bamboo bicycle.

What is your goal with creating these bamboo bikes?

My main goal is to show the versatility of bamboo as a material for bike making. At my workshop, there is a wide variety of bikes which would be surprising to some. And that is what I wish to show. The experience of riding on a bamboo bike is like no other and it is something everyone must experience.

“You will “ride with pride” when you build your own bamboo bicycle”

How can people purchase your bikes or learn how to assemble a bamboo bike for themselves?

It’s quite simple. If you are interested in learning how to assemble a bamboo bike then you can just come to my workshop and learn in person. Alternatively, you can visit my website, purchase a kit, and assemble it. My website is https://www.mybikediy.com. 

KEEP READING: 10 Easy Rides You Can Do Without Leaving Beijing

Photos: Jing ChChuan HuauanHua

Bejiing parents were shocked today to learn that new regulations about licensing bikes also apply to children’s scooters and tricycles. Unless the toy vehicles are registered by midday today, they are liable to be impounded if ridden in public areas, including parks and compounds.

“The law did not make any reference to the size of the vehicle or the age of the rider,” a spokesman explained, “so the regulations must be applied fairly and equally to all.”

Authorities reassured worried parents that there is no charge for registration, and the process is simple. All you need to do is attend your local Transportation Bureau office with a photograph of the vehicle, your child’s passport and visa, their birth certificate, and their medical certificate showing they are in sound physical and mental health.

Licenses will also be required for children driving electric vehicles.

Children driving electric cars like this one will need to take a test

“They will need to pass the same test adult drivers take,” the spokesman said. “The child needs to show that they can drive the vehicle slowly in a straight line, looking directly ahead at all times, with their hazard lights flashing.”

Further information about the new regulations can be found here.

Nothing says childhood more than an after school evening spent pumping pedals through the neighborhood. The challenge for parents in Beijing is determining which kid bicycle is of best quality and most reasonable price on the Chinese market, full of unfamiliar brands at sporting stores.

The Beijing International Children’s Bicycle & Buggy Exhibition plans to solve this problem with a contest of the Most Beautiful Children’s Bicycle Selection between the brands and models recommend by the public.

The Expo will be held on July 30 through August 1 at the China National Convention Center, as part of the Beijing International Bicycle and Spare Parts Exhibition 2016, which you can read about more here on our sister publication’s site, the Beijinger.

When shopping at the expo, beijingkids encourages parents to consider these questions:

1. What are the height and weight suggestions set out by the brand/manufacturer of the bike?
2. Are bike safety measures all included or available for purchase (double breaks, bells, reflectors on the back, front, in the pedals, and on the basket)?
3. Is any sort of warranty provided with the brand?
4. How easily can replacement parts be found in Beijing (handle pads, tire tubes, bike saddle, basket, wires)?
5. Consider the style of the tire. If your child will mostly be riding around on pathways and in courtyards of a neighborhood, a thinner and less grooved tire is best, not the wide and heavily inlaid mountain-like tire.

Bicycle nominations are held between June 1 and July 5, and bicycle brands can also submit their product for consideration. Brands can find out minimum requirements here while parents can recommend bikes through the Exhibition’s official WeChat account, which can be found here.

Products that do not receive 50 “likes” from voters will not be able to participate.

Contest winners will be determined based on customer love, user friendliness, cost, beauty, and social responsibility.

Beijing International Children’s Bicycle and Buggy Exhibition, July 30 – August 1
All ages. Free. On July 30 and 31, Saturday and Sunday, the exhibition is open between 9.30am and 4.30pm, while on Monday August 1, the doors will be open from 9.30am to 2pm. China National Convention Center (Exhibition Website).

“I’ve got a bike, you can ride it if you like,” sang Pink Floyd’s Syd Barrett.
“It’s got a basket, a bell that rings, and things to make it look good.”
I too now have a bike, on which I travel daily to the beijingkids offices.

Basket? Check.

Bell that rings? Well, it has what, for want of a better word, I am forced to describe as a horn. However it doesn’t emit a honk, or even a beep, but more of a bewildered squeak, befitting of my lowly status on the road.

Things to make it look good? Err… did I mention the basket?

What my bike does have that Syd Barrett’s didn’t is a battery-powered motor, so that I am spared from any but the mildest of physical exercise. Fear not though, my finger muscles get a good workout from gripping the handlebars in terror as I weave through the Beijing traffic.

My excuse for this is laziness that I intended to take my sons home from school using it. Even as I type these words, I am laughing, hollow, ironic laughter at my former optimistic naivety. Carry two passengers, healthy, well-fed boys aged 10 and 7?

I can barely get myself home unscathed.

Riding through Beijing seemed at first like one of those fiendishly difficult “scrolling shooter” arcade games of the early 90s, when you have to guide your fragile spacecraft at high speed through clouds of bullets, bombs and laser bolts. As with those games, the only way to survive is to learn the patterns, recognize the danger points.

Like that place by Tuanjiehu where a swarm of tuk-tuks will emerge from the subway station and ride the wrong way up the road all at the same time, for example.

“I feel more of a man when I get with the herd,” as Julian Cope said, and like wildebeest on the Serengeti, we Beijing cyclists seek safety in numbers. Even the buses have to give way as we surge majestically across the ring roads in our hundreds.

And of course we have the city’s wonderful cycle paths, a safe haven for all of us on bikes. And trikes. And tuk-tuks, and delivery vehicles and mobility scooters and hoverboards. And pedestrians. And cars. So, so many cars. Which leads to existential contemplation: if a cycle path is full of cars, is it still a cycle path? Is it not, in the end, just a path?

Such are the thoughts which occupy me as I trundle along, scraping the soles from my trainers with the scuffling half-run required to squeeze through the gaps between taxis and trucks. Yet for all the dirt, and danger, and worn-out footwear, there’s a sense of freedom, of belonging, particularly when riding at night. It has cut my commute time in half, and I no longer have to spend two hours a day with my nose wedged in a stranger’s armpit.

The city is, if not exactly my oyster, then at the very least my whelk.
All I have to do now is glue my oven gloves to the handlebars, and I’ll be a proper Beijinger.
Photo: Andrew Killeen

Recently, a mysterious thing happened. I came out of  my apartment and couldn’t find my bike. It was just after returning from the holidays and I hadn’t noticed its absence when arriving back to Beijing. I know it had been locked and it wasn’t easy to carry—a heavy “Yongjiu” (永久Forever) model with a big baby seat on the back.

I could only conclude, with a heavy heart, that it had been stolen.

I’ve had since 2008 and ever since I installed a baby seat on the back of it, I rarely lock it. Who’s going to steal a seat belonging to a parent with a small child? Especially when I’m going inside for something in a store or when I’m just running upstairs for something at my apartment—I prefer to trust the universe. That is, during the day.

So that’s why I knew I had locked it before the holidays. I did it intentionally—the same way I always lock the bike at night.

When I told the family by WeChat that my bike had been stolen, my Chinese husband, a notoriously terrible gift giver who failed to produce a Christmas or birthday present in the last year, went into immediate “problem-solving” mode. He declared that a new bike would be my Valentine’s Day present. (The first Valentine’s day present EVER.)

Taobao to the rescue. Old-style Shanghai bikes called “Fenghuang” (凤凰 Phoenix) bikes look a lot like Yongjius so I selected that style from the links he sent me, (also through WeChat.) The seller was to arrive in five days. Until then, I had feet.

Then, en route to another job, I noticed something grey poking out from behind a homemade shed/shanty that one of our neighbours built in the middle of the courtyard’s parking area. It was the same colour as the baby seat from my old bike. Upon closer inspection, I discovered my whole (locked) bike—intact—lying on its side behind the structure. Its position—invisible from my entrance and many metres from where it had been parked—was mysterious, to say the least.

When I told my husband (also over WeChat) that I had found my old bike, he just laughed. He said having a second bike would finally enable him to go riding as a family. “We just need a second baby seat,” he said, casually.

This is a guy who rarely walks unnecessary distances. First a present and now an expressed desire to exercise? These are mysterious times.

The new bike arrived, shiny and perfect. The guy assembled it in my building’s courtyard, locked it up, and delivered the keys to my apartment door. I’ve decided to ride it as my primary bike while the old one, rusty from eight years of Beijing streets, gets a well-needed rest.

What’s the lesson here? One should not assume theft. But, yes, assume that if you’re going to go on vacation and you leave a bike in a public space in Beijing, someone is very likely to move it for random and inexplicable reasons before you come back.

And the other lesson? People can surprise you, even after years of knowing them.

Just more Unsolved Beijing Mysteries to keep life interesting…

Photos: Courtesy of Ember Swift

Bicycle and scooter theft is a huge problem in Beijing, as I found out first-hand last Monday. I’m usually pretty careful, but I got complacent and there are definitely things I can do better for next time. Learn from my experience and read the following tips for securing your bike.

• Always lock your bike to something stationary. When I first got to China, it boggled my mind that most bikes were only locked to themselves. I eventually adopted this bad habit for convenience’s sake, but I won’t make this mistake again.
• Use more than one lock. By extension, use more than one type of lock. If a thief can break one chain lock, they can certainly break the second chain lock.
• Don’t skimp on locks. Make sure their value is proportional to the value of the bike. An avid cyclist friend swears by US-based Kryptonite, the pioneer of the U-lock (some products available on Taobao). Natooke, the fixed-gear bike store, also sells sturdy locks by German manufacturer ABUS (see their Taobao shop here).
• Learn how to lock your bike properly. There are plenty of online guides with pictures: Lifehacker, Bicycling, and Bicycle Habitat are just a few.
• Lock your bike somewhere with a lot of foot traffic. Though Sanlitun SOHO’s bike parking lot is used by a lot of people, it’s not particularly well-lit and there was one security guard patrolling the whole area. Security cameras aren’t likely to help.
• Whenever possible, put your expensive bike indoors. This may not possible in every office or apartment building, but it’s a no-brainer.
• Mark up your bike. Bike thieves try to shift stolen bikes as soon as possible; the more distinctive yours is, the harder that will be. Put packing tape around the frame, scratch your initials into it, put zebra stripes and tenacious Spongebob Squarepants stickers all over it – anything to really annoy and deter bike thieves. Stupid bike thieves.
• Spray-paint your bike. One of my pet peeves about Giant bikes is how loud and garish the designs can be. A few months ago, I encountered a fellow cyclist with a matte black bike while getting my bike serviced at a Giant store. He said that the store can actually spray-paint your bike black for free as long as you have a Giant bike. I wish I’d done this sooner.
• Take pictures of your bike. They should be clear, well-lit, shot from several angles, and include close-ups of distinguishing marks like bells, displaceable fenders, and any missing or damaged parts (e.g. mine was missing a tail light). Save these in your phone.
• Save your fapiao. This is China – don’t you know to save every bit of paper by now? In all seriousness, this expedites the process of filing a police report and makes it much easier time to prove the bike is yours if it ever is found.
• Live and learn. Don’t be discouraged from the joys of owning a nice bicycle; this could’ve happened to anyone. In the end, it’s just stuff. Take it as a lesson for what you can do better next time.

Terrified at the prospect of filing a police report? Don’t be. Click here for my blog about my post-bike theft experience.

Photo: Aliexpress.com

Last Monday, my Giant bicycle was stolen while I was in Muay Thai class. I left it in the bike parking lot on the west side of Sanlitun SOHO. Though it wasn’t locked to anything stationary (first mistake), it had two locks – one in the front, one in the back – and was left in full sight of several people in a parking lot I’d used before. In total, I was gone for just over an hour.

After I realized it was gone, I paced up and down the lot several times and asked a security guard if Sanlitun SOHO had any security cameras. “Yes, but they’re not pointed in this direction,” he said. Really? Your security footage doesn’t extend to the parking lot, where theft is most likely? OK then.

In the end, I spoke to a police officer and filed a police report a few days later. And you know what? The process was pretty easy. Here’s what happened.

Calling the Police
At the bao an‘s suggestion, I called 110 (the police hotline) and spoke to the operator in Mandarin. If you’re not confident in your Chinese skills, keep the security guard nearby and hand them the phone.

The operator wasn’t sure the police officer on duty would find our precise location, so he told me to meet him at the large Sanlitun SOHO sign facing Gongti Beilu. At the same time, two friends were searching the compound for my bike and one stayed with me for support.

The police officer was polite if a bit repetitive. He asked me basic questions about the theft: where my bike was stolen, how it was locked, how long I was gone, what brand it was, and how much it was worth.

The officer asked me if I still had the bike fapiao, then told me to go to Sanlitun police station to file a police report. If I couldn’t go right away, I should visit on Tuesday morning or any time Thursday; the unit that received the initial complaint also had to be the one taking down the report, he explained. The officer told me to bring my bike fapiao and passport, then left after taking down my contact details.

At the Station
I went to the police station on Thursday afternoon. There was no wait; I just strolled up to the reception desk and said I wanted to file a police report (笔录, bilu). A few minutes later, I was shown into the back by a young police officer.

Filing a police report – especially where theft is concerned – is a largely standardized process. The police officer used a template, which varies depending on whether you’re a foreigner or a Chinese national. We sat down at a desk, where he asked me questions in Mandarin and typed my answers on the computer.

Don’t worry if your Chinese isn’t very good. All foreigners have the right to ask for an English interpreter at the police station. Just say: 我需要翻译 (wo xu yao fanyi) or “I need translation.”

The interviewer went over the same ground as the first police officer, but was much more thorough and frequently stopped to clarify details – “You said you had two locks, one red and one black. Was the red one locked in the front or in the back? What kind of lock was it? What brand?” This might make some people nervous, but I found it reassuring.

When the officer was done with the report, he asked me for my English name, Chinese name, and birth date, then printed out the form for me to check. I had to initial every page, then sign and date the last page. I also had to sign a form in Chinese detailing my rights (no English version available).

I was surprised by the next step. The officer took out a rather vintage-looking metal tin containing a kind of creamy red pigment. “Put your index finger in it,” he said. I proceeded to then fingerprint a hazy red mark over each initial, date, and signature.

The last step was also a bit weird. The police officer had me hand write a short statement in Chinese swearing my truthfulness. If you can’t write Chinese characters, I’m afraid you’ll have to try your best; the officer can write out the statement for you to copy.

That’s it! I was thanked for my time and shown to the front. The process took no more than 30 minutes from start to finish.

Look, I’m not an idiot. I realize that the chances of my seeing my beloved Giant again are vanishingly small. However, I feel better knowing that I did everything I could to bring those chances up even a bit.

On Friday, look out for my follow-up blog on how to avoid bike theft.

Photo: Gene Zhang (Flickr)