I happened upon an interesting article the other day that caught my attention.

Entitled “What would get Americans biking to work? Decent parking,” the article, written by Tom Vanderbilt in Slate magazine, posited that one of the greatest hindrances to commuting by bike is lack of parking.

At first, I thought it nonsense.

After all, parking a bike is a ridiculously simple exercise, requiring just a little space, a lock, cable and sturdy object. A suitable tree or lamp post will do.

But the more I thought about it, the more I found myself agreeing with the author.

More than once I’ve opted to drive to a new destination if I questioned my ability to find somewhere suitable to lock my bike. I’ve even driven around a new place scoping out bike-parking possibilities before making the trip on two wheels. If that doesn’t defeat the purpose of commuting by bike, I don’t know what does. As a result, I find myself casing just about every joint I visit for available bike parking.

Most public places have suitable accommodations, but not all.

My optometrist, for example, has a nice four- or five-bike rack right by the front door. It’s easy, convenient … and it’s not anchored at all, meaning it wouldn’t be that hard to roll up, throw the rack and any attached bikes in the back of a pick-up and drive away. Of course, I find that highly unlikely in the middle of the day, so I use it anyway.

The other day, I rode to Kansas University’s football Media Day at the spiffy new Anderson Family Football Complex. I’ve been there a few times and don’t recall ever seeing a true bike rack. I locked up to a handrail instead, but I was on edge all the time I was inside.

I’ve always thought it illegal to chain up to handrails on campus, but more than the campus po-po, I feared head coach Mark Mangino more.

In the scene that plays out in my head, Mangino — a place-for-everything-and-everything-in-its-place kind of guy if there ever was one — walks outside after his news conference, takes one glance at my bike and declares, “I see a bicycle chained to my handrail. This does not please me. Remove the bicycle and dispose of it as you see fit.”

Then a trusted underling produces bolt cutters, liberates my ride and throws it in the nearest dumpster.

(Trust me: In my head, with the exaggerated Mangino voice, it’s uproarious. Guess you had to be there.)

Of course, that didn’t happen, but authorities have liberated bikes from “inappropriate” anchors before.

And there are thieves, too, who take anything from bits and pieces to entire bikes.

The article suggested that fear of such things — in other words, the absence of good, reliable, safe bike parking — prevents folks from commuting by bike.

I have to admit, my most frequent bike-commute destinations are fine on the parking front. The gym, rec center, store … all have nice, accessible racks.

And my most frequent destination, work, lets me park inside. Though I once got in trouble for parking down the hallway from my desk (in a nook that became somebody’s office), the powers-that-be immediately suggested an alternative spot — inside, protected by security doors, even within view of a video camera.

So while I have no idea how many people don’t commute by bike because they don’t know what they’d do with their ride once they arrive, I have to admit, at least when it comes to commuting to work, I never have to give that part of the commute a second thought.