This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Four summers ago, some girlfriends and I walked from coast to coast along Hadrian's Wall in Northern England. Along the way we encountered rain, mud, fields of stinging nettle, murderous sheep, an innkeeper with a mail-order bride who tried to double-charge us, rain, grown men dressed like Roman soldiers, teenage boys dressed like Roman soldiers, rain, Americans who wondered why there are no washcloths in England, a lady in the middle of nowhere with a pug named Wesley selling cups of tea to hikers (the lady, not the pug named Wesley), dog enthusiasts who spent the night running their Labrador retrievers up and down the hallway outside our room, rain and cows.

Also more rain. Also more cows.

Good times! Which is why four years later we got together again for another adventure. This time we rode bicycles through the Netherlands and Belgium. Among other things, I'm happy to report, I learned how to ride up an escalator with a bike. (HINT: You get OFF the bike.)

Anyway, I'm back now. But the experience has caused me to reflect on the differences in the biking cultures a) here in Salt Lake City and b) there in the Low Countries. For what it's worth, here are some observations.

1. Everybody bikes in the Netherlands and Belgium. And by "everybody," I mean EVERYBODY. Women. Men. Girls. Boys. Babies. Pugs named Wesley. Everybody bikes — a reality that has less to do with being all progressive and "green" than it does with the fact that folks over there been biking, biking, biking since the Middle Ages.

Biking as a primary mode of transportation hasn't caught on in Salt Lake yet, in spite of the former mayor's efforts to make our city bicycle friendly. Americans in general and Westerners in particular are in love with cars. Dude. We practically invented cars in this country. Or at least we figured out how to mass-produce them so that ordinary people could afford them. Asking us to trade in our cars (especially the ones with cup holders) for bikes is just asking too, too much.

2. Also! Hills! Here's the thing about the Netherlands. It's flat. How flat is it? Flatter than an open can of Dr Pepper left on the kitchen counter overnight. SERIOUSLY SO FLAT. Belgium is slightly hillier, but only just. This means you can bike across both countries and back in about 10 minutes without breaking a sweat — that is, if you don't stop for lunch.

Biking in Salt Lake City, on the other hand, can feel like a mountain climb in the Tour de France minus all that spandex.

3. And here's another thing. Cars in the Netherlands and Belgium don't try to kill you. When I returned, my mom asked if riding a bike on city streets had made me nervous. Much to my great surprise, it hadn't. Why? Because I never had the sense that people were mad at me for sharing the road.

I'm often annoyed with cyclists here in Salt Lake. Too often local cyclists behave like both cars AND pedestrians — depending on the situation. Because they don't always follow the rules of the road, it's hard to predict what they're gonna do. Which makes me nervous. Which then makes me (OK, I ADMIT IT) feel hostile. Which makes the cyclists hostile in return.

Hey, Cyclists and Cars! Let's all give each other a little love, OK?

4. Finally, no one wears helmets. Except for the Americans. And possibly a few Canadians. Clearly Officer Friendly has NOT been visiting schools in Amsterdam, informing children (and their parents) about the importance of wearing protective headgear. Yo, Officer Friendly! What's up with that?

When in Rome, however …

Toward the end of the week, I actually took off my helmet and packed it away. I'm pretty sure I didn't look Dutch or Belgian — or Roman — pedaling through the countryside with my bare head.

But wow. I sure did feel like a kid again.

Ann Cannon can be reached at acannon@sltrib.com or facebook.com/anncannontrib.