Being on the Road: The Sociology of Cycling from Turkey to Sweden
A bicycle doesn’t just roll over pavement—it hums with the pulse of its pedals, carving paths through not just roads but the very fabric of life. In Turkey’s self-anointed “Automobile Republic,” where cars are kings and prejudices stick like grit in a chain, riding a bike is no casual spin. It’s a quiet mutiny, a defiant middle finger to roaring traffic, crumbling infrastructure, and sidelong glares. It’s a chase for freedom on two wheels. Yet, in a world where 23,000 souls pedal in harmony around Sweden’s Vätternrundan race, the bicycle hoists a flag of equality, a living anthem of grit and togetherness.
Cycling carries a raw, almost holy weight in how we navigate the world. Strip away walking, and no other transport lets you glide from one skyline to another fueled only by your own sweat and stubborn will. No gas, no beast of burden—just you, the bike, and the open road. A bicycle stretches your reach three, four times beyond what your legs could dream of alone.A bike that’s ticking along? It’s a passport to every corner of the globe. All it demands is what you’re already doing: scarf down some food, sip some water, keep breathing. Two pedals, a pair of wheels, some gears, and a chain—a scrappy symphony of humanity’s earliest sparks of genius. The bicycle is gloriously, defiantly simple.
Sure, technology’s polished it up—sleeker, faster, safer—but the soul of the bike hasn’t budged: stop pedaling, and you’ll eat dirt.
In a land like Turkey, I’ve been cranking the pedals in “adult mode” for 12 years. Here, bikes are too often dismissed as sünnet ( curcumcision ceremony) gifts or childhood toys, not tools for carving out a life. We weave through near-misses with car bumpers, outrun snarling strays, guard against sticky-fingered thieves, and shrug off snide jabs like, “What’s with the tights, man?” In a country where bike lanes are a pipe dream, electric bikes and fat-tire beasts are just rich folks’ playthings. Still, we endure, staking our claim in the “Automobile Republic” with every stubborn turn of the crank.
I could ramble about bikes till the wheels fall off—and I have before. (*) But after sinking into a Swedish film where bicycles steal the spotlight, I felt compelled to spin some thoughts on the sociology of cycling:
[Netflix link: https://www.netflix.com/title/81735101]
Riding a bike is, without a doubt, tied to seeing the world with clear eyes.
(The film’s Turkish title, Cold Competition 2, is a head-scratcher of a mistranslation, slapped on like a cheap sticker. It’s a sequel, sure, but the original Swedish title, Ute och cyklar, doesn’t whisper “2.” The phrase, meaning “out cycling,” is slang for being blissfully off the mark, like our own “You’re the only one who got me, and you still got it wrong.” Forget the Netflix nonsense—this isn’t some icy showdown. It’s a tale of pedaling through life’s tangles.)
The film spins its wheels around Sweden’s legendary Vätternrundan, a 315-kilometer race looping Lake Vättern. So, how long does it take to pedal 315 kilometers? Like the punchline to a bad joke, it depends on the rider’s guts. You know your own legs: if you’re slogging through in 24 hours, you roll out at dawn. If you’re a road-eating beast clocking 40 kilometers an hour, you saunter in with the late crowd.
This race, where everyone crosses the line almost together, isn’t about crushing the competition. Winning means staying in the saddle, pushing on. Since 1966, over 20,000 riders have flocked to this June ritual, a rolling testament to perseverance.
The story zooms in on two brothers and their tangled lives. One’s married, the other’s on the cusp of tying the knot. The married couple’s bond is fraying like an overworked chain; they’re never more distant than when they’re side by side. Divorce looms like a storm cloud. The husband, a cycling zealot, pours his soul into training for the race’s elite tier. Clinging to each other despite the cracks, they turn to a therapist, who nudges them to find something to do together. So, the husband ropes his wife into the race, betting on the road to mend what words can’t.
The other couple, scarred from first marriages that didn’t deliver, is happier but still wading through doubts. The woman’s past is a blur of booze and chaos; she’s clawing her way to steadier ground through sport. The man, a grounded cop, leans on his Middle Eastern female colleague as his sounding board. Here, it’s the woman who races, pedaling to outrun her demons.
The tale weaves in the messiness of life: the married couple’s gamble on leaving their kids with their 85-year-old grandpa when babysitters fall through, the engaged couple’s trust issues, ex-spouses, and kids caught in the crossfire of split homes. Characters teeter on the edge of abandoning each other amid relational wreckage, only to face the 315-kilometer gauntlet in the film’s final stretch.
Life and the bike race trade jabs, each mirroring the other. Stop pedaling, and the bike stalls—just like relationships wither without effort. A grizzled, lovable Swede, a Vätternrundan fixture since ’66, sums it up: the race is about showing up and keeping the wheels turning.No need to spill the whole plot—you can stream it on Netflix.
What hit me hardest was how Swedes, whose relationship struggles echo our own, tackle their knots. No matter how thick the tension, there’s not a whiff of violence. People strain to understand each other, and when the road ends, they part with a nod, not a fist. No one growls, “You’re mine or you’re nothing.” No one kills in the name of love. No one’s hung up on the past. They live for the now—what’s felt today is what counts.
A bicycle is more than a frame and tires. In Turkey, it’s a battle cry against the tyranny of traffic and small minds. In Sweden, it’s a chorus of 23,000 riders singing solidarity. The film Ute och cyklar bridges these worlds: just as a bike tumbles when the pedals freeze, relationships stall without care. The couples, grinding through 315 kilometers, rediscover each other and themselves, a testament to the bike’s quiet alchemy.
In Turkey, cycling is about pressing on despite the road’s betrayal; in Sweden, it’s a jubilant ride shoulder to shoulder. Both teach the same truth: a bike shows you how to see the world right—powering forward on your own steam, with a nod to the people and the earth around you. It’s not just a vehicle—it’s the raw courage to keep spinning through life’s climbs, dips, and wide-open stretches.
In a land where 23,000 dare to tackle 315 kilometers, love and strife aren’t flawless, but they roll on without bloodshed.
Riding a bicycle is, no question, about gazing at the world with open eyes.
(*) For bike nerds, my earlier spins on cycling:
Sure, technology’s polished it up—sleeker, faster, safer—but the soul of the bike hasn’t budged: stop pedaling, and you’ll eat dirt.
In a land like Turkey, I’ve been cranking the pedals in “adult mode” for 12 years. Here, bikes are too often dismissed as sünnet ( curcumcision ceremony) gifts or childhood toys, not tools for carving out a life. We weave through near-misses with car bumpers, outrun snarling strays, guard against sticky-fingered thieves, and shrug off snide jabs like, “What’s with the tights, man?” In a country where bike lanes are a pipe dream, electric bikes and fat-tire beasts are just rich folks’ playthings. Still, we endure, staking our claim in the “Automobile Republic” with every stubborn turn of the crank.
I could ramble about bikes till the wheels fall off—and I have before. (*) But after sinking into a Swedish film where bicycles steal the spotlight, I felt compelled to spin some thoughts on the sociology of cycling:
[Netflix link: https://www.netflix.com/title/81735101]
Riding a bike is, without a doubt, tied to seeing the world with clear eyes.
(The film’s Turkish title, Cold Competition 2, is a head-scratcher of a mistranslation, slapped on like a cheap sticker. It’s a sequel, sure, but the original Swedish title, Ute och cyklar, doesn’t whisper “2.” The phrase, meaning “out cycling,” is slang for being blissfully off the mark, like our own “You’re the only one who got me, and you still got it wrong.” Forget the Netflix nonsense—this isn’t some icy showdown. It’s a tale of pedaling through life’s tangles.)
The film spins its wheels around Sweden’s legendary Vätternrundan, a 315-kilometer race looping Lake Vättern. So, how long does it take to pedal 315 kilometers? Like the punchline to a bad joke, it depends on the rider’s guts. You know your own legs: if you’re slogging through in 24 hours, you roll out at dawn. If you’re a road-eating beast clocking 40 kilometers an hour, you saunter in with the late crowd.
This race, where everyone crosses the line almost together, isn’t about crushing the competition. Winning means staying in the saddle, pushing on. Since 1966, over 20,000 riders have flocked to this June ritual, a rolling testament to perseverance.
The story zooms in on two brothers and their tangled lives. One’s married, the other’s on the cusp of tying the knot. The married couple’s bond is fraying like an overworked chain; they’re never more distant than when they’re side by side. Divorce looms like a storm cloud. The husband, a cycling zealot, pours his soul into training for the race’s elite tier. Clinging to each other despite the cracks, they turn to a therapist, who nudges them to find something to do together. So, the husband ropes his wife into the race, betting on the road to mend what words can’t.
The other couple, scarred from first marriages that didn’t deliver, is happier but still wading through doubts. The woman’s past is a blur of booze and chaos; she’s clawing her way to steadier ground through sport. The man, a grounded cop, leans on his Middle Eastern female colleague as his sounding board. Here, it’s the woman who races, pedaling to outrun her demons.
The tale weaves in the messiness of life: the married couple’s gamble on leaving their kids with their 85-year-old grandpa when babysitters fall through, the engaged couple’s trust issues, ex-spouses, and kids caught in the crossfire of split homes. Characters teeter on the edge of abandoning each other amid relational wreckage, only to face the 315-kilometer gauntlet in the film’s final stretch.
Life and the bike race trade jabs, each mirroring the other. Stop pedaling, and the bike stalls—just like relationships wither without effort. A grizzled, lovable Swede, a Vätternrundan fixture since ’66, sums it up: the race is about showing up and keeping the wheels turning.No need to spill the whole plot—you can stream it on Netflix.
What hit me hardest was how Swedes, whose relationship struggles echo our own, tackle their knots. No matter how thick the tension, there’s not a whiff of violence. People strain to understand each other, and when the road ends, they part with a nod, not a fist. No one growls, “You’re mine or you’re nothing.” No one kills in the name of love. No one’s hung up on the past. They live for the now—what’s felt today is what counts.
A bicycle is more than a frame and tires. In Turkey, it’s a battle cry against the tyranny of traffic and small minds. In Sweden, it’s a chorus of 23,000 riders singing solidarity. The film Ute och cyklar bridges these worlds: just as a bike tumbles when the pedals freeze, relationships stall without care. The couples, grinding through 315 kilometers, rediscover each other and themselves, a testament to the bike’s quiet alchemy.
In Turkey, cycling is about pressing on despite the road’s betrayal; in Sweden, it’s a jubilant ride shoulder to shoulder. Both teach the same truth: a bike shows you how to see the world right—powering forward on your own steam, with a nod to the people and the earth around you. It’s not just a vehicle—it’s the raw courage to keep spinning through life’s climbs, dips, and wide-open stretches.
In a land where 23,000 dare to tackle 315 kilometers, love and strife aren’t flawless, but they roll on without bloodshed.
Riding a bicycle is, no question, about gazing at the world with open eyes.
(*) For bike nerds, my earlier spins on cycling:
- https://cagatayarslanfilmlerhayatlar.blogspot.com/2021/04/is-hayatinda-basariya-dair.html
- https://cagatayarslanfilmlerhayatlar.blogspot.com/2022/08/bisiklet-surmezlerse-bisikletliler.html
- https://cagatayarslanfilmlerhayatlar.blogspot.com/2021/04/hayatin-ve-yollarin-yokuslarina-dair.html
- https://cagatayarslanfilmlerhayatlar.blogspot.com/2021/10/doping-sadece-sporda-mi-olur.html
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