Here is a tale that makes it clear why when in doubt - ride...

PART 1

This Sunday I had to teach some cycling classes pretty far away (Scarberia, for those who know Toronto). So I took my new beautiful Specialized Tricross and set out. I went through three tranquil ravine paths (without getting lost even!) and hammered through virtually empty Sunday-morning roads catching every green light on the way... Lots of fun.

PART 2

As I was teaching, I got a phone call from my mother who said she was coming to pick me up and give me a ride home and then maybe go out together. Since she lives kind of far we don't see each other that often, I agreed to the arrangement. So she came and after my classes were over, we started putting the bike in the car. And you could see that the bike didn't want to be put into the car. The handlebars were just wide enough to make it difficult to push the thing into the trunk. The brakes were a beotch to disconnect for some reason: I just gave up and let the air out of the tires and pull the wheels through the brake pads. And the worst part is that at some point my mother apparently got tired of holding the rear end of the bike and just dropped it!!! Not from a very great height, but still, just dropped it on its carbon seatstay... WTF?? Why can't you lay it down gently? That bike is LIGHT and at that point the wheels were off already which makes it lighter still.

Anyway, eventually we stuffed the poor beast in the car, suffered through miles of boring highway (at least there were no jams) and arrived at my place. And as I was assembling the bike on a grassy patch near my apartment, I managed to step into dog poop with both of my new bike shoes. And I mean REALLY step into a BIG pile. With BOTH shoes. What a ****ing mess!

CONCLUSION

I think it's pretty clear which part out of the two is more fun.