Real Cities Have....

 Earlier this week, New York City Mayoral candidates Eric Adams and Curtis Sliwa debated.  The latter, best known as the founder of the Guardian Angels, expressed one position I wholeheartedly agree with:  his stance on animal welfare.  He said that, if elected, all of the city's animal shelters would become "no kill" shelters.  He deemed it "barbaric" that there are still horse-drawn carriages on city streets.

The only purpose those animals and carts serve is the amusement of tourists around Central Park. Thus, his wish to ban them is, I believe, well-founded.  The same cannot be said for his stance on bike lanes and traffic.  He believes there's a "war on cars" on this city, and has vowed to remove bike lanes in neighborhoods where they're less-used.

I think, like any good politician--which is what Sliwa has always been--Sliwa is echoing his supporters, many of whom believe that "their" streets and parking spaces are being stolen, "invasion of the body snatchers-style" by terrible, evil cyclists.  

Apparently, that sentiment echoes in other cities:

  You can't even go to South Water Street in Providence anymore, at least not without wearing a bulletproof vest and duct taping AirPods to your ears.  Nothing screams "thug" like a skinny person in bicycle shorts.

Dan McGowan obviously doesn't think that way.  He followed that paragraph in his Boston Globe editorial with this:  Said absolutely no one ever.  He used his platform to praise outgoing Providence Mayor Jorge Elorza for building bike lanes and in general planning with the recognition that the future of his city, and others, cannot be car-centric.  Those efforts, and similar work by other officials, led McGowan to this conclusion:  Real Cities Have Bike Lanes.

Bike lane on South Water Street in Providence.  Photo by Barry Chin, for the Boston Globe.

He is partially right.  Bike lanes can be an integral part of a city's infrastructure and thus encourage cycling if those lanes are well-conceived, -designed and -constructed.  They need to make cycling safer by taking into account the actual experience of cycling on urban streets or county roads. (As an example, the lane has to be built and traffic signals coordinated so that cyclists can proceed through an intersection, or make a left turn, ahead of right-turning motorists.)  And those lanes should be practical:  They should enable cyclists to pedal from their homes to schools, workplaces, shopping areas and other common destinations.  I've seen too many bike lanes that begin in seemingly arbitrarily locations and end abruptly.  

So, I would amend Dan McGowan's conclusion with one word:  Real cities have practical bike lanes.

Spoke'n Words And Unchained Melodies

Can musicians make music without a musical instruments?

One of the oldest American musical traditions involves musicians doing exactly that.  Now, some might not say it's strictly a musical tradition, but it certainly involves music--and dance and other kinds of performance.  

It originated in Charleston, South Carolina. Actually, Kongo slaves brought a dance called the Juba from their native land.  The Juba involves stomping as well as patting and drumming the arms, legs, chest and other parts of the body.  Later, lyrics were added to it.

If any of this sounds familiar, you've seen what's commonly called the "Hambone."  Slaves weren't allowed to have rhythm instruments because masters believed secret codes were embedded in the drumming.  So, the "Hambone" and related music and dances became one of the primary means of expression for slaves--and for African Americans after the so-called Emancipation.

I like to think of Juba or Hambone as a precursor to hip-hop.

Anyway, it seems that the idea of making music without instruments--or, at least, what most people would think of as instruments--hasn't died. And, as with the slaves, one particular contemporary performer felt the need to make music without guitars, keyboards, saxophones or the like.

Percussionist Reynaliz Herrera probably isn't the first musician to ride a bicycle to street performances.  She, however, grew frustrated with the limits to what she could carry on two wheels.  So, the Braintree (Don't you just love that name?), Massachusetts wondered, "What if I drum on my bike?"  

If you know anything about her musicianship, the question doesn't sound so far-fetched.  Ever since she came from her native Mexico to study music in Canada and, later, Boston, she has wanted to go beyond traditional theories of classical music, she says.  

 

While she cites Afro-Cuban, Brazilian and classical music as her main influences, she says that playing on a bicycle is a return to her own roots.  As a child, she experimented by banging on pots and pans, and created a band with buckets of water in her yard.  That led her to the realization that "everything can create a sound" and that her job is to find out "the qualities of sounds and which sound good together."

What's interesting is how the bicycle is composed of parts that create a range of tones, from high to low, that resemble the parts of a drum ensemble.  For example, she explains, the chainwheel can sound like a bell or snare drum, the freewheel like a high hat and the tire like a kick drum.  Technically, playing a bicycle, she says, is most like playing a xylophone because both require a musician to strike closely-spaced parts spread over a wide area.

Take A Bike Ride And Call Me In The Morning

Lately, there's been a burst of interest in "social prescribing", particularly in the UK.  In fact, the UK plans to implement it nationwide, as part of a strategy to combat loneliness, by 2023.

"Social prescibing" is a loose term of practices that draw upon therapeutic art-, hobby- or exercise-based programs to help patients with a range of issues ranging from dementia to lung conditions.  The idea behind it is that for many patients, particularly the elderly, their physical ailments are exacerbated (if not initiated) by their isolation.  Not surprisingly, depression and anxiety plague many who have outlived friends, family members, colleagues and neighbors and create a vicious cycle in which emotional conditions worsen physical ones--which, of course, make the people who suffer those conditions even more unhappy, and sicker.

As part of "social prescribing", general practitioners and, in some cases, other health care providers can prescribe any number of activities, including museum visits, cooking classes or walking tours for patients. These activities are not meant to replace medical or surgical treatments, though they may well reduce, or even eliminate, the need for medications to treat emotional and other conditions.

Those activities could include bike rides.

The Welsh National Health Service has just announced that doctors at two Cardiff medical centers can now prescribe free six-month prescriptions to a bicycle-rental service.  The intent of the pilot program is to not only improve cardiovascular health, but also to support overall mental well-being.  If successful, the program could be expanded to include other health care professionals in the city, and perhaps even the country.

Under the plan, patients will be given a code that will provide them access to an unlimited number of free 30-minute riding sessions.  These sessions, which will be made available by European bike-share company Nextbike, can cost 10 pounds sterling (about $13 at current exchange rates) per day.  

The announcement of this plan, the first of its kind in the UK, closely follows an NHS report detailing a 15 percent increase in obesity-related hospital admissions in the UK.  That is not surprising when you consider that five years ago, the city of Boston started a "Prescribe-a-Bike" program for low-income patients, in part to combat the obesity that disproportionately affects the poor.  It has since morphed into a discounted BLUEbikes membership program for people who receive government benefits.

More Than Green Paint In Beantown

In which American city do motorists spend the most time in bumper-to-bumper traffic?

Hint:  It's not New York.  Or Los Angeles.  Or any other city in California.  And it's not Chicago or Detroit, either.

That distinction goes to Boston.  Residents of Beantown wouldn't be surprised:  After all, their city has long had a reputation for having some of the worst traffic in the United States.

It's such that fellow New Yorkers are amazed when I tell them I've cycled in Boston.  More than one Big Apple cyclist has told me he or she would never, ever ride in the New England hub. "Those drivers are crazy!," they exclaim.

My response is usually along the lines of, "Well, yes, you do have to exercise caution, just like you would in any other city."

One thing I have to say about Boston cyclists, though:  They have grown very sophisticated about cycling infrastructure.  No longer are they satisfied with the "green paint on the side of the road" approach to bike lanes.

Now Causeway Street, a major connection between the North and West Ends (and, until 2004, the site of one of the city's main elevated train lines), has a bike lane running down its center, separated from the east- and west-bound traffic lanes by concrete barriers.  This could be very important to commuters and recreational cyclists alike, as it links to the Connect Historic Boston bike path and ends with the New England Aquarium.

Also, the upcoming redesign of Commonwealth Avenue near Boston University will include bike lanes built into wide sidewalks and separated from cars:  an arrangement common in Europe.  The redesign will also eliminate a flaw such lanes have in other American locales:  At intersections, concrete platforms will be built between the bike path and auto lanes.  This is intended to force drivers to take slower, wider right turns.

Speaking of turns: The city's first bike rotary is under construction at a point (near the MBTA Forest Hills station) where new bike paths intersect with the city's Southwest Corridor path.  As Boston Globe reporter Adam Vaccaro wryly notes, it remains to be seen whether cyclists behave better in their rotaries than motorists do in theirs.  (That sounds like something a Bostonian would say.)

And, for traffic management, traffic signals for cyclists are also under construction.  I've seen a few here in New York.  In theory, they are a good idea, especially where bike lanes intersect with major roadways.  One problem I've seen is on the lane I often use when commuting to work:  It's a two-way lane for cyclists, but the street that runs alongside it is a one-way.  This creates problems when you are cycling in the opposite direction from the traffic:  The bike signal isn't always in sync with the cars, many of which are coming off the nearby expressway.  I hope the Boston planners are mindful of such things.

So far, it all sounds pretty ambitious and forward-thinking.  I am very interested to see how the new lanes, barriers and signals work.

Escaping Another Kind Of Slavery--With Bicycles

Had bicycles been available, it's not hard to imagine that slaves would have used them to escape from their enslavers.

Perhaps Brandale Randolph had that in mind when he named his new business the "1854 Cycling Company".  In the year for which the company is named, US President Franklin Pierce began to fulfill a campaign promise that helped him win election to the office:  To enforce the Fugitive Slave Act, he pressured officials in the "free" northern states to arrest former slaves and return them to their former owners.

One such former slave, 19-year-old Anthony Burns, was arrested in Boston, Massachusetts and sent back to Virginia.  This led to a protest in nearby Framingham led by abolitionists Sojourner Truth, Henry David Thoreau and William Lloyd Garrison.  There, Garrison held a match to a copy of the Constitution, calling it "a covenant with death, an agreement with Hell."

The 1854 Cycling Company's flagship model is called the "Garrison" in his honor.  And a pair of road bikes are named for Ellen and William Craft, who escaped slavery in 1848 to become authors and lecturers.  Knowing that, I have to wonder whether Randolph will name another model "Douglass".

Brandale Randolph shows one of his early "1854" bicycles to a Framingham resident.

And, yes, the bikes--built around classically-designed steel frames with modern touches--are being built in Framingham.  But most important of all to Randolph is the homage he is paying to the 13th Amendment of the US Constitution.

That amendment, passed after the end of the Civil War, outlawed slavery nationwide.  Many people--including yours truly--argue that the prison-industrial complex is today's version of slavery.  So, apparently, does Randolph:  He is employing recently-released prisoners and starting a training program that will help bring all of the manufacturing in-house--and teach the parolees valuable skills they can use, whether they continue to work for him or elsewhere. And he will pay them "living wages," he said.

He started making bikes only this year and is looking for financing to move his company forward.  His plans, as idealistic as they are, have basis in his knowledge and experience:  A former hedge fund manager, he graduated from the streets of South Central Los Angeles to the prestigious Thacher School (by way of A Better Chance, a program for inner-city kids) and earned a degree from the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania. (Irony of ironies:   A certain Wharton alum is now in the White House!)

His business instincts tell him that the bicycle market will grow "exponentially" in the next ten years, as more and more people, particularly in cities, give up their cars.  His vision is not to become a major manufacturer like Specialized or Giant, or one of the"niches brand, like in craft beers", that "only have to sell a couple" of their bikes every year.  He wants to fit "somewhere between the two", he explains.

That might be just the right spot for him--and those whose escape from modern slavery he is trying to aid.

This Santa Claus Is A Rider

People of, ahem, a certain age remember Gene Autry as "The Singing Cowboy."  People of my generation know him best for singing "Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer."

He brought pleasure to many of us.  I can't comment on how much he actually knew about riding herd where the buffaloes roam. However much he knew, I hope it was more than Sylvester Stallone, a.k.a. Rambo, knows about soldiering.

On the other hand, I can say, with some certainty, that he didn't know much about road safety or optics.  After all, a red headlight is illegal in most places.  It also isn't very effective--or, at least, not as effective as a white or yellow light--for seeing ahead.

To be fair, it's not Autry's fault for miseducating, if inadvertently, a couple of generations of young people.  The guilty party is actually Johnny Marks, who wrote the song.

I got to thinking about all of this after reading a news story about a "Santa" who delivers Christmas trees on his bicycle:

On Clarendon Street in Boston, en route to Copley Square

He seems to have been born for the job in more ways than one:  His real name is Jimmy Rider, and he hauls balsam firs  in a custom-made trailer through Boston-area streets at this time of year. 

"Every person is happy to get a tree," says Rider, who operates his side business "EverGreen Delivery" out of Ricky's Flower Market in Somerville, Massachusetts.  But, as with stand-up comedy, it's not just about the material:  The delivery matters.  "He does it with such enthusiasm, whether it's snowing or raining, or early in the morning."  says proprietor Ricky DiGiovanni, who supplies the trees.   "He'll even do it late in the evening.  He gets the job done, and he does it with a smile.

During the rest of the year, Rider's main business is delivering goods from farmer's markets and restaurants on his bike.  Somehow I imagine he brings good cheer all year round--and that he knows enough not to use a red light in front.
 

If We Want Bike Share To Work In New York

The buzz in New York City cycling (and other) circles is about the Bike Share program, which is scheduled to begin by the end of this month.

About 300 kiosks have been set up; the number is expected to double over the next few years.  Perhaps in response to complaints about them, the kiosks are movable.  In Paris and London, where two of the earliest bike-share programs began, the kiosks were trenched into the ground, making them difficult to maneuver or remove.  The Big Apple instead took its construction cues from Montreal, where the kiosks are anchored by nothing more than their own weight. Thus, spaces can be moved or removed for construction or emergencies.

Commuter at Capital Bikeshare kiosk in Washington, DC. From Velojoy

Some people questioned the wisdom of adding so many more bikes to the city's streets.  I, for one, think questions should have been directed at the idea of trying to shoehorn as many motorized vehicles as possible into the city's streets--which seemed to be the Department of Transportation's guiding policy for decades.  It's not the number of bikes on the street that increases the risk of injury or death, as some allege.

Such critics point to the three cyclists who were killed during Velib's first year of operation in the City of Light.  Rather than to blame a bike-share program--for, essentially, getting people to abandon their pre-Velib modes of transportation--more attention needs to be paid to the conditions in which urban cyclists ride.

Just as Parisian cyclists learned about the dangers of turning trucks, truck drivers learned to pay more attention to cyclists--and to warn them about "blind spots."  After three years of cycling in Paris and three decades in New York, as well as riding elsewhere, I honestly believe that most truck drivers are courteous and do their best to drive as safely as possible.  At least, that has been my experience with them.  (I'll admit that my view might be colored by the fact that relatives of mine have driven for a living.)  However, it doesn't hurt to remind them that they share the streets with cyclists and that sometimes they are steering their big rigs across the paths of bike lanes.  

The Department of Transportation--and, sadly, local bike-advocacy organizations like Transportation Alternatives--have never done that.  Rather, they have focused their efforts to cautioning cyclists about the dangers trucks pose to them. While such warnings are justified and useful, I think the other side of the story must be presented.

Also, having cycled in London, Boston and Montreal (all of which now have bike-share programs), as well as Paris, New York and other cities, I can say that my hometown has some of the worst street conditions in the developed world.  One of the running jokes is that some potholes have their own ZIP Codes; some in the tonier neighborhoods have elevators and concierge service.  Seriously, I have seen cyclists lose their balance and even fall because they were rattled and bounced on road surfaces that are more lunar than terrestrial. In one instance, a woman's front wheel was caught in a pothole when she dodged an opening car door. Fortunately, she suffered nothing worse than a few scrapes and a couple of bruises.

So, while I applaud the Bike Share program, I still think that the Department of Transportation need to look at what else other cities did--whether in education, infrastructure repairs or other areas--as they implemented their bike share programs.  Otherwise, the program will have a similar effect to the construction of bike lanes:  It might get more people to ride, but it won't make for a safer, let alone more bike-friendly,environment.