Transgender Day of Remembrance—Andrea Doria Dos Passos

 Today I am invoking my “Howard Cosell Rule” because it’s Transgender Day of Remembrance. 

On this date in 1998, Black transgender woman Rita Hester was murdered in the Boston suburb of Allston.  Her death received little attention at the time although—or because—it came just weeks after that of Matthew Shepard, a gay man attacked and left to die on a cold high desert night in Wyoming. 

A year after Ms. Hester’s death, the first Transgender Day of Remembrance was observed in Boston and San Francisco. Subsequent observances—in which I’ve participated—consist of participants reading the name of a transgender or gender-variant person who was murdered because of their gender identity or expression. 

Therefore, I will wrap up today’s post with the name of one such victim: Andrea Doria Dos Passos. 

The 37-year-old transgender woman had been dealing, like too many of us, with housing insecurity for some time.  On the night of 23 April, experiencing homelessness, she was sleeping near the entrance of Miami City Ballet when a man approached and violently beat her to death. 

The next morning, a Ballet employee came upon her body and called the police.  Because of security camera footage, the perpetrator was caught quickly: an unfortunately rare outcome in too many cases.

Mid-Day, Late Season

  Although this Fall has been warmer and drier than any other I can remember, my rides reveal sure signs that winter, whatever it might bring , isn’t far in the future.

Somehow the preternaturally clear sky and blue water at Fort Totten—where the (misnamed) East River meets the Long Island Sound, and the destination of my midday ride—only highlighted the imminent seasonal change.

Then again, some places and trees are holding onto what’s left of the season.

When It Was A Gravel Rider's Dream

Following the trail further, the hardy voyager wandered over 'hills and valleys, dales and fields' through a countryside where trout, mink, otter, and muskrat swam in the brooks and pools; brant, black duck, and yellow-leg splashed in the marshes and fox, rabbit, woodcock, and partridge found covert in the thicket.

The preceding passage isn't an account of my latest ride, though it could have described other rides I've taken.

I have, however, pedaled down the route followed by the author of that passage.  My latest trek along that thoroughfare--one of many--took me past stores, restaurants, condo and co-op buildings and offices.

Also, I rode in the opposite direction from that of the scribe who penned that passage.  Today, it's the only way one can travel for most of the roadway's length.

I am talking about one of the world's most famous urban byways:  Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.

The section Arthur Bartlett Maurice described ran from about 21st to 28th Streets:  about a mile and a half from the Avenue's southern terminus at Washington Square Park.  He was also narrating a northward ("uptown" in New York parlance) trek; since 1966, all of the Avenue, save for a few blocks at its northern end, has allowed only southbound ("downtown") traffic.

Can you believe this was once a sight along Fifth Avenue?

This month marks 200 years since the Avenue--which was mainly a dirt path--opened.  It had been planned thirteen years earlier; its opening ushered an unprecedented building boom that, decades later, would lead to the stretch abutting Central Park to become "Millionaire's Row" and, later, "Museum Mile."

Or this?

Mind you, I don't make a point of cycling Fifth Avenue.  But there are times when it's an efficient and, given that it doesn't have a protected bike lane, relatively safe way to go.   Because the stretch from 110th to 59th marks the Park boundary, most side-streets dead-end into it, so there are few intersections to navigate.  Also, I find that its traffic patterns and flows are fairly predictable, even along the Midtown sector.

Oh, and I always make sure I wave to Patience and Fortitude when I pass the main New Yave to ork Public Library building.  If they could talk.... 

(Thanks to Esther Crain, the author of one of my favorite blogs--Ephemeral New York--for the tribute to Fifth Avenue's bicentennial.)

Á Misanthrope? Maybe, Sort Of.

 I have had many labels attached to me.  Perhaps this is one:

After all, I have lived with more bikes than humans!

Could This Become The Father Of Better Bike Infrastructure?

 Here in New York City, it seems that every other non-cyclist hates the bike lanes. Drivers complain that “their” lanes and parking spaces are being taken from them. 

To be fair, many city streets—even some major ones—are narrow and were crowded even before the bike lanes came in. But, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, studies have found a “build it and they will come” phenomenon in road and other auto-related infrastructure: Creating more space for motorized traffic leads to more motorized traffic. In other words, car-clogged streets that have bike lanes would continue to experience traffic jams even if the bike lanes were given over to cars, trucks, buses and anything else that isn’t human-powered.

Apparently, some folks on Padre Island, off the Texas coast, have heard that message. If they haven’t, perhaps their latest plea to the Island’s Strategic Action Committee (which advises the Corpus Christi City Council) is motivated by two crashes involving cyclists and motorists within a month.

Those good folks (OK, I’m editorializing) are telling the Committee to build safe bicycle lanes and sidewalks. To me, it’s interesting that they’re asking to build something that many New Yorkers want to get rid of. More important, it’s heartening to know that if those lanes and sidewalks are built, they would be part of a larger mobility plan for the island, connecting different communities with buses, golf carts and other non-automotive transportation in addition to bike lanes and sidewalks. If nothing else, I hope that it prevents or defuses at least some of the animosity some drivers direct at cyclists. Oh, I also hope that such a plan might prevent some bad bike lanes—like a few I’ve ridden here in New York—from being built.

Take Your Pick

 Non-bike-related question of the day:

Which is scarier:  Matt Gaetz as Attorney General or Robert F. Kennedy in charge of the Department of Health and Human Services?

50 Kilometers--For Dumplings?

Bagel runs.  Pizza runs.  Taco runs.  Crepe runs.  Beer runs. 

I have made all of those "errands"--usually, at night--on my bicycle.  Some of those trips spanned only a few blocks; others were considerably longer, like the rides I took from Rutgers in New Brunswick, New Jersey to Brooklyn for bagels.  It's not that decent bagels couldn't be had in NB or, more precisely, neighboring Highland Park.  I simply believed that the bagels in Brooklyn--at one place in particular--were the best.

And, of course, those 50 or so kilometers (depending on which route I took) left a bagel (or two) sized hole in my stomach.  

I've probably taken rides of similar length within the bounds of New York City to taste a food that, while available in whichever neighborhood I resided, was better in some ethnic enclave or another:  knishes from Mrs. Stahl's in Brighton Beach, dim sum in Flushing, jerk chicken in Flatbush and, of course, soul food in pre-gentrified Harlem.  Oh, and few things can cap off a winter trek like pho in Sunset Park.

So I fully empathize with four students who made a 50 kilometer late-night run from Zhengzhou to Kaifeng--for soup dumplings. Of course, those young people claimed that they weren't riding only for a midnight snack:  They say they also took in some cultural attractions in Kaifeng, a city that has served as China's capital eight times during a history that stretches as far back as the Athenian Empire.  I believe them simply because I would do the same--while sampling the local cuisine, of course!

That all would have been fine with the local authorities if the ride was limited to those four students, maybe a few more.  But news of the trip went viral on social media. As a result, the quartet would be joined by 100,000 other cyclists, mostly young.

To put that into perspective, the Five Boro Bike Tour, one of the world's largest organized rides, attracted 32,000 riders this year.  Some people complain because they lose "their" lanes and parking spaces when streets are blocked off, but otherwise there is little public or private criticism because the ride is planned well in advance.  Thus, people are prepared for the street closures and police have an easy time patrolling and protecting. (Plus, one assumes, they don't mind the overtime pay.) 

The Dumpling Run, on the other hand, was a spontaneous event. Thus, no one else was prepared for the ensuing traffic jams and other interruptions it caused and local officials were, needless to say, not happy. Nor were bike share administrators:  They had to shut down their networks because most of the riders used share bikes and the networks simply couldn't keep up with the demand.  Also, the ride led to a glut of share bikes in Kaifeng and not enough in Zhengzhou.

Then again, some local papers, like People's Daily, have praised the event.  They cite the "energy" and "spirit" of the ride, not to mention the boost to restaurants and other hospitality businesses.  I can understand:  I've pedaled 50 kilometers, and more, for art, history, culture--and food!

Through Her Eyes

 Could it be that even Marlee couldn't believe what she was seeing last Tuesday night?

The War To End All Wars

 Today is Veterans’ Day here in the US.

I can remember when it was called Armistice Day, after the treaty that ended World War I, a.k.a. “The War to End All Wars.”

I wonder how many soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen/women and other military personnel go into battle hoping that their battle, their war will be the last.  I think that’s what I would hope.  “Hey, let’s not do this shit again, OK?”

And then swords would be beaten into ploughshares—and mortar into bicycle parts.

Ya Gotta Start Somewhere

How was your first ride?

A Ride The Day After The Day After

 The other morning I took a ride to Fort Totten before work. Those 45 miles (72.5 kilometers) of pedaling—into the wind for most of the way out—were just what I needed to help me with my post-election trauma. It might be a reason why the class I taught was easier than the two I taught the day before, the day after the election.

I am happy to report that some things haven’t changed

yet.  I hope that someone doesn’t discover petrol under Long Island Sound or anywhere in this area.  I don’t want to see El Cheeto Grande’s campaign donors “drill, baby, drill.”

The Aftermath , So Far

 Orange Crush (i.e., the election) left me crushed. People who know me could see it; some of them, I am sure, felt the same way.  One of our building’s managers, however, said, “It’s gonna be OK.” I wonder whether he believes it.

Since Tuesday night’s testament to treachery, I have taught three classes: one last night and two on Wednesday.  I barely heard a peep from the first group. Were they merely stunned, or did they feel resigned. Since most of them are of traditional college age (18-19 years old), I hope it’s not the latter.

The second class is smaller: 7 students. As you can imagine, it’s easier to get everyone to participate. At least, on a normal day it is. But the other day, they seemed as stunned or mentally weary as my first class, save for one student. He, who emigrated as a teenager with his family, became a citizen through US Military service. Interestingly, when we discussed The Trial and Death of Socrates, he was as zealous as anyone I’ve met in his defense, if you will, of the peripatetic philosopher: “He thought for himself. He questioned authority. That’s what we must do.” Thus, I am not surprised that he lambasted Trump as he did; what surprises me is that anyone who wears, or has worn, the uniform could support a career criminal who called the permanent residents of the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery “losers” and “suckers” after skipping out on a D-Day commemoration .

Last night class, on the other hand, was lively, even feisty. Most of those students come in to class from work, and all of them were upset that Trump won the election. One student mentioned Project 2025 which calls for, among other things, dismantling the Department of Education. Others mentioned their fears about health care, immigration and women’s and LGBT rights. Most interesting or all though, was the participation of one student whom I hadn’t heard before. “This whole country will be like Texas!” she lamented.

That wasn’t an idle statement: She was born and raised in the Lone Star State, “near Dallas.” She has spent time in other parts of the state: Houston, El Paso, Lubbock, San Antonio. The latter is home to The Alamo. “It’s all they talk about,” she said, “as if there’s no other history.”

I interjected that I was taught it was a “battle for freedom:” Texans wanted to liberate themselves from the yoke of Mexican oppression and become part of the Land of Liberty. “That’s what we were taught”—about half a century after I was so indoctrinated—“but we were also taught that it was part of Manifest Destiny, which was part of God’s plan.”

“They actually told you that God wanted the US to take Texas?” She nodded. Never was it mentioned, she explained, that Texans were fighting to keep slavery, which Mexico abolished four decades before the United States.

“We have to do away with American exceptionalism,” she intoned.”

People like her are the reasons for whatever hope we may have. She has obviously taken the time to learn what she wasn’t taught and questions authority and received wisdom. I can only hope that people like her aren’t brought before kangaroo courts on trumped-up (no pun intended) charges and don’t have to suffer his fate.

About Last Night

Today I will once again invoke my "Howard Cosell rule." That means today's post won't involve bicycles or bicycling.

By now, you know what happened last night.  During the previous two Presidential elections, I admonished friends, co-workers and other people I knew not to be so confident that Donald Trump "didn't have a chance" to win.  Ironically enough, I was, in my own way, pointing out  exactly what the right-wing pundits and media accuse them of:  not seeing anything outside of their liberal/New York/academic "bubble."

The first time, in 2016, I was accused of being "alarmist," "too sensitive" or even "paranoid" for expressing my fear of a Trump victory.  Even in the 2020 contest, held during the worst of the COVID pandemic, I didn't think another Trump victory was beyond possibility:  It seemed that his mistakes emboldened him, and his supporters, precisely because he seemed not to learn from them. Those same supporters believed Trump had a second term "stolen" from him and the Capitol riot was a "peaceful protest."  

Some of my friends and co-workers who couldn't or wouldn't see the world (or, more precisely, the USA) beyond the Hudson simply didn't understand someone in a moribund small town or rural area who saw his (or, in rarer cases, her or their) place in this country threatened by immigrants or people of color. Or why they believed that they were losing their rights as women, racial minorities and LGBTQ people were gaining those same rights.  

I could, because I was once one of those white males who believed I was being told to "shut up and pay your taxes" so that others could "sponge off" the system and, through "affirmative action," was being denied jobs that went to people who were less qualified than I was.  And throughout my life I have remained in contact, partly through family ties, with people who believe people like me and others different from themselves are getting "special privileges" when they are simply afforded the same consideration for education, jobs and other things cisgender heterosexual Caucasian Christian men (and, to a lesser degree, women) could take for granted, even if they weren't wealthy.

My views have changed, in part because of affirming my gender identity (what some people still call "gender transition" or "gender change"). Donald Trump's hostility toward transgender people is obvious.  Now that he is older and less inhibited than he was during his previous term, I fear that he will have less, if any, compunction about  targeting us in ways that Ron de Santis and Vivek Ramaswamy couldn't envision--or, at least, couldn't execute because they don't have the governmental and other resources available to them that Trump will enjoy as President. He has talked about ending protections equality for us. And too many of his supporters simply hate us, whether for religious reasons or because of their views about "masculinity" and "femininity." Worst of all, as we saw in the Capitol riots, they feel emboldened by his rhetoric and personality to commit violence against us, and anyone else they see as a threat to their world-view.

The last clause in the previous sentence, unfortunately, illustrates the political and intellectual climate of this country.  I am old enough to remember when if you were of one party and debated someone from the other, you could at least have a fairly civilized discussion of economics, foreign policy, social issues or even the arts.  Now it is a fight over your right to simply exist.  And that is what I fear most about the upcoming Trump term:  For me, and others like me, it will be simply about staying alive, much less out of prison or a mental hospital (to which we could be committed involuntarily). 

I also fear that too many of my fellow Harris supporters will understand why she lost this election even less than they could have fathomed a Clinton defeat/Trump victory in 2016.  That is the biggest reason--not the "low information voters" or people who "vote against their interests"--why Trump won again last night and why his second term could be more ominous than his first.

Bike To Vote, Vote To Bike

 

Today is Election Day here in the US.

May the best (wo)man win!

The Big Pun

 You never know who you might meet during your ride

even if it’s a commute!

High Visibility

Eight years ago, I recalled my comical attempts to sell bicycle safety flags that had been in American Youth Hostels’ storage room for, probably, a decade.

That got me to thinking about how we, as cyclists, can make ourselves more visible to motorists. Perhaps there is no better way than this:

A Cyclist’s Vote

 I voted yesterday. It You probably know my pick for President. And you surely know that at least one factor in my choice is that bicycling has been an integral part of my life.

Neither Kamala Harris nor Donald Trump addressed cycling directly. And neither said much about transportation per se. Both, however, have stated positions that could affect cycling, for racers, fitness riders, commuters and recreational riders alike, as well as those who say, “I’d ride, but…”

That last category of would-be cyclists is most likely to complete that statement with “I don’t feel safe “ or words to that effect. While Vice President Harris hasn’t indicated that transportation is one of her priorities, she has supported climate initiatives which, of course, are beneficial to the development of multi-modal transportation—and one of those modes is cycling.

She has also made safety in general a part of her campaign. That would mean, among other things, improved safety for pedestrians and cyclists on and along roadways.

On the other hand, Project 2025–to which Trump claims no connection even though, ahem, his running-mate JD Vance wrote the foreword—includes an infrastructure agenda that emphasizes broad deregulation and private investment. Such policies tend to favor large, auto-centric projects like highways and bridges. And during his Presidency, the Department of Transportation under Elaine Chao (Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell’s wife) adopted a hands-off approach to cycling and walking infrastructure.

Mentioning her marriage to, arguably, the most powerful person besides the President is not gratuitous on my part. You see, the makeup of Congress also hinges on this election. The Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, which President Joe Biden signed in 2021, is set to expire in 2026. Whether or not it’s renewed could depend on whether the Legislature has a Democratic or Republican majority. And that could be influenced by the Presidential election, as people tend to vote with their party.

Even if I hadn’t taken the time to learn what I’ve described, I could have voted against Trump, given his hostility towards cyclists. And women.  And immigrants. And transgender people. 

Hill Killer

 The title of this post sounds like a nickname for a serial murderer.  “Hill Killer” is actually the name of a bicycle apparel company in Hampstead, Maryland.

I haven’t bought bicycle-specific clothing, save for helmets and gloves, since I gave up my racing fantasies. I wouldn’t, however, mind riding one of their jerseys for my ride on this day, Dia de los Muertos.

And, of course, like any good gringa, I will eat Mexican food after my ride!

As You’ve Never Seen Me Before

 Here I am, on my Halloween ride:

Will It Lift The Bike Business? Or Will REI Fall Into A Canyon?

For as long as I can remember, someone has predicted the demise of the local bike shop.  The first "threat" came from mail-order giants like Bike Warehouse/Bike Nashbar, Bikecology/Supergo and Performance.  They offered high-end frames and components at lower prices (including shipping) than your neighborhood dealer--if indeed it carried those items or could order them.  

Later, the death-knell for The Village Spokesperson or its equivalent was supposed to have been sounded by Internet retailers--some of which, of course, were the online incarnations of mail-order firms.  Often, their prices were even lower, and their selections greater, than those of mail-order or brick-and-mortar businesses because they didn't need the warehouse space of mail-order companies and, well, because of sheer volume: A human doesn't have to be present when you press "click" to order that helmet or GPS device or when it's dispatched.

Indeed, some shops closed their doors when mail-order companies became known even to once-a-month, seven-months-out-of-the-year, cyclists. (Older mail-order concerns like Cyclo-pedia had much smaller, though very loyal, markets.) And others ended their runs when they couldn't keep up with Internet retailers, or when the COVID-19 Bike Boom went bust.  

But there were a few factors that kept other bike shops in business and encouraged the establishment of new ones.  One is what a remote shopping experience, whether via the US Postal Service or World Wide Web, could not offer:  personal service. While most mail and online retailers offered fit charts and guides for bikes, helmets, shoes and other items, they could not replicate the experience of trying them on in the store.  A related factor is the relationships cyclists build with trusted bike professionals:  For example, the folks at Bicycle Habitat understand my riding style and preferences, and how  they have changed.  Also, they and other shops I have frequented have offered me discounts as a repeat customer, so I find that I save little, if any, money when I shop from a screen. 

And let's face it, people like me simply feel more comfortable going to proprietors, mechanics and other shop personnel we've known for years or even decades. 

That last factor explains why some analysts and casual observers are again sounding alarms over "the death of bike shops."  The cycle brand Canyon has announced a partnership with REI Co-op.

Now, that doesn't mean you'll find Canyon bikes or accessories, or even a demo fleet, on your local REI showroom.  Rather, those stores will only handle warranty claims and do repairs--at a 20 percent discount for REI members-- on Canyon bikes.  In other words, REI is taking on two vital parts of a relationship between a bike buyer and shop.  I rarely have to go to a shop for repairs (only when I don't have the tool and can't justify buying it or, as when I bought Dee-Lilah, my custom Mercian Vincitore, I wanted an assembly job from someone who loves and appreciates Mercians), but it's good to know that I can get advice and answers from someone with expertise and that, should I have a warranty issue, someone can handle it for me. 

I think those are particularly important issues for customers and riders of Canyon, a direct-to-consumer brand. Few, if any, did a pre-order ride or fit, so I am sure that some ordered the wrong size or type of bike for themselves or someone else.  I would likewise assume that many Canyon customers have done little, if any, bike repair work and thus didn't assemble some or all of the bike properly.

Moreover, at least a few Canyon riders, like other cyclists, are also hikers, campers, skiers or participants in other outdoor sports.   Thus, they would feel comfortable going to REI:  Indeed, they may already be customers or even members.  On the other hand, they may be new to cycling and thus feel intimidated by bike shops, especially the ones that cater to dedicated cyclists.

All of that said, I don't think Canyon's partnership with REI will mean the end of bike shops as we know them.  But it could change the ways in which at least some cyclists get service, even if it begs the question of whether REI would hire or train mechanics--or press salespeople into fixing bikes.   

The Light Of The Season, Lighting My Ride

In temperate parts of the Northern Hemisphere, October paints its light with strokes from deepening, drying leaves of red, yellow, orange and brown.

But those hues also reflect the light of other seasons I remember during autumn rides. 

We're Giving You A Reason That Conflicts With The One We Gave You

When I lived in Manhattan, I often cycled across the George Washington Bridge:  I could set out for Bear Mountain around sunrise on a late spring or summer morning and be back before noon.  Even at such an early hour, I'd see other cyclists crossing the bridge in both directions.  Some were riding into the city for work or pleasure, but a few were returning from midnight rides:  something I did at least a few times.  Such trips were possible because, in those days (ca. 1983-1991), the Bridge's walkway/cycle paths didn't close.

Some in the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey management will deny the lanes were ever available 24 hours.  Pardon my cynicism, but I don't find it surprising that the bi-state agency that owns the Bridge (and JFK International Airport, among other facilities) would try to gaslight those of us who have been using the Bridge for decades.  

Photo by Charles Pedola

I don't know exactly when the PANYNJ began overnight closure of the bike lanes.  Nor does the agency itself--or, if it does, it's employing "selective memory."  Like Ed Ravin of the Five Borough Bike Club, I remember the nocturnal lane closure starting some time after the terrorist attacks on 11 September 2001. That is when the Authority installed gates.   "I remember seeing that gate and saying, 'They want to be able to close this path,'"  he recalls.  "I didn't like that at all."

Whatever the case, the path had been closed from midnight through 6 am until earlier this month.  Then, the lanes'  availability was extended by one hour:  It now opens at 5 am.  While that is a partial victory, the PANYNJ's reasoning is murky at best and specious at worst.  A spokesman claimed that the closures began in 2016 for cleaning, maintenance and restoration.  That contrasts with  another statement attributing the closure to a "standard practice" that began in 1995. Both of those claims contradict a 2004 press release stating the lanes would be closed overnight due to "enhanced security measures" for that year's Republican National Convention.

Now, to most people, that difference of one hour doesn't sound like much.  But there are people who ride to and from jobs at that hour--or overnight--who can't afford to, or simply don't, drive or take buses.  Even those of us who pedal across the bridge to train or simply for pleasure feel something in common with those workers:  that the Port Authority doesn't care about us.  About 4 million vehicles drive across the bridge every month; the tolls they pay make the Bridge the Port Authority's second most-profitable asset (after JFK Airport).  On the other hand, in a warm-weather month, about 90,000 of us pedal across the bridge--and we don't pay tolls.

How Long Did It Last?

 Cycling has been one of the few constants in my life.

Going With A Gnarly Idea

 Here in New York City, the prototypical commuter/errand/“beater” bike has flat handlebars, a single fixed cog or freewheel and tires somewhat wider and thicker than those found on road bikes. Frames are usually finished in plain colors or could be raw steel or aluminum. So far, those bikes sound like the love children of Minimalists and Brutalists. But those drab machines might have neon-colored V-shaped rims, as if to assert themselves against asphalt and concrete. Other cities’ signature bikes are variations on what I have described—or on Dutch-style city bikes. 

In still other places—typically hillier—bikes with multi-gear hubs or derailleurs are more common. Such machines often are modified ‘90’s mountain bikes, which some argue is the best kind of utility bike.

That belief seems to be a guiding philosophy of Gnargo.  Minneapolis natives Elysia and Zach Springer moved to Bentonville, Arkansas shortly before the pandemic.  They were drawn by the city’s reputation as a mecca for mountain biking—they had been cycling advocates in their former hometown—and other outdoor activities. It also happens to be the headquarters of Wal-Mart which, Elysia jokes, “sponsored” their move with Zach’s new job in product development for the retail colossus.

They had two toddlers and wanted to integrate cycling into their lives away from the trails. To them, the ideal solution was a front-loading family cargo bike like they’d seen in Europe. They weren’t widely available at an affordable price in the ‘States, much less in Arkansas, so they decided to make one themselves.

The first design was “pretty bad,” Zach recalls. But after a few tries, they hit upon something that satisfied both of them. It began with an old steel mountain bike frame, which Zach modified and equipped with an electronic kit. 

Needless to say, it got a lot of attention when they rode it around town. People asked where they could get a vehicle like it—which, of course, they couldn’t. So began the Springers’ enterprise.

It will be really interesting to see whether Gnargo’s front-loading cargo bikes become the signature mode of transportation for any community. Such a place would have a very different bicycle culture from New York or Portland!

Photos by Betsy Welch for Outside magazine.

Urban Range

 

West 59th Street, Manhattan, from the saddle of Tosca, my Mercian fixed-gear bike.

Cops Chase, Suspects Get Away, Cyclist Dies

 One of the reasons I have never attended my high-school reunions is an encounter I had with a classmate just after I graduated.

We were in the stands for the Thanksgiving Day football game. He said that he was waiting to enroll in the police academy. That did not surprise me: Several members of his family worked in local and state law enforcement.  He wasn't, however, trying to continue a familial tradition.  Rather, the allure of becoming a constable was  that "it's the only job where you get to drive fast, carry a gun and beat people up."

I suspect that more than a few prospective cops were enticed by the prospect of operating vehicles at speeds that would get civilians arrested or ticketed--and, too often, lead to innocent drivers, bystanders, pedestrians--and cyclists--getting killed.

We don't hear about that very often.  But such was the tragic fate of Amanda Servedio.  The other night, she was riding her bicycle  near 37th Street and 34th Avenue in Astoria--an intersection I have pedaled, probably, hundreds of times, as it's only a few blocks from where I lived--when a driver sped a pickup truck through the intersection and struck her.  The impact launched her; she landed on a nearby parked car.  

She was taken to Elmhurst Hospital, where she was pronounced dead.

As terrible as the crash was, it might have been just another of many caused by a careless, errant or impaired driver save for another "twist:" Police were pursuing the vehicle, whose drivers and passengers were suspects in a burglary at a nearby construction site.

Heartbroken to hear the news that our neighbor Amanda Servedio was hit & killed by a driver fleeing the NYPD in a chase on Tuesday.

Her tragic death was preventable and the latest example of cyclists and pedestrians being killed due to an unacceptable increase in NYPD chases.

— Zohran Kwame Mamdani (@ZohranKMamdani) October 24, 2024

An NYPD policy forbids chases of the sort those officers made. There's a very good reason for that, according to Transportation Alternatives' Alexa Sledge: "When there are cars speeding down city streets, it's dangerous." Evidence of her claim can be found in this fact: Ms. Servedio--an "avid cyclist" according to a friend--is the fifth person to be killed in a police chase this year.

Oh, and the suspects, who abandoned the Dodge Ram 1500 (with "ghost" plates), are still at large. 

Call me cycnical, but I wonder whether those cops gave chase for the thrill of it--just as my old classmate dreamed of doing.

This Shouldn't Be A Shock

The bicycle has been described as the parent of the automobile and grandparent of the airplane.  Indeed, most of the technology found in early--and, in some cases, current--cars and planes was created for bicycle.  The most famous, and possibly important, example is the pneumatic tire:  Automobiles would be no faster or better than horse-drawn carriages, and modern aircraft couldn't take off or land, without them. Ball bearings and variable gears are among the other innovations that "crossed over" from two wheels to four.

Moreover, many of the early designers, engineers, manufacturers and even mechanics for automobiles of aircraft got their start with bicycles.  Henry Ford and the Wright Brothers are among the most famous examples. Speaking of whom:  Mr. Ford didn't "invent" the assembly lines for automobile production.  It had already been in use in bicycle factories, and he adapted that innovation for the automobile company that bears his name.

As the cars overtook bicycles as the primary means of land transportation, "borrowing" shifted the other way.  But as the bicycle industry in the US saved itself by selling its wares as toys or, at best, transportation for kids who weren't old enough to drive, the car-to-bike migration wasn't as technological as it was stylistic:  Bike makers chromed parts for a "streamlined" look and added stick shifters and steering wheel-like handlebars to make their machines adaptable to childrens' fantasies of driving cars and motorcycles. (The "muscle bikes" of the 1960s--on the eve of the North American Bike Boom--are examples of what I mean.) 

The cycle of innovation and borrowing continued when mountain bikes were first created.  Many used brake levers and other parts from motorcycles and early suspension systems could trace their development--from springs and cables to air and elastomers, and back--to what was found on Harleys, Hondas and BMWs. And, whatever you think of them (I'm still not using them), disc brakes have been standard equipment on all but the smallest and lightest cars for about 50 years and are becoming more common on bicycles.

Now, it seems that the trend may be coming "full circle."  A crew in Stray's Garage, an Italian custom motorcycle shop, created this "cafe racer" from a Soviet-era Ural motorcycle.  Its most striking element, apart from its engine, is the front-fork suspension which, according to Cristian Curmei, blends elements of mountain bike rear suspension systems.

Oh, and the suspension system's piggyback oil reserve (near the top of the spring) bears a name familiar to mountain bike riders:  Manitou.  

 

The Latent Demand For Bike Lanes

I took one economics course as an undergraduate. What did I learn? Well, there is a subject at which I am worse than I am at math, which is saying something. Oh, and I learned a few terms that come up every now and again, including “induced demand” and “latent demand.”

The former term refers to, among other things, what happens when new roads are built. Contrary to what people expect—and, too often, planners and politicians promise—building new roads or adding traffic lanes doesn’t ease congestion. Instead, it induces people to drive for short trips and on occasions when they otherwise might not have, and to move further away from their workplaces, schools and other places they need and want to go to—and public transportation.

On the other hand—again, counter to common perception and the claims of grandstanding politicians—bike lanes bring out latent demand. That is to say, they encourage people who wanted to cycle to their jobs, schools or favorite stores and restaurants but were reluctant because they didn’t feel safe. I imagine there are more such people than there are folks who want to drive two hours each way to work, or to put up with the hassles of driving and parking to buy some cereal and milk.

Cyclist on path in front of Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto. Photo by John Rieti for CBC.

Recent research bears out what I have just said. Moreover, it shows that in many places—including my hometown of New York—bike lanes actually help to reduce the amount of time it takes to drive because bike lanes, which are often installed with left turn lanes, allow cyclists to proceed more quickly through intersections and keep cars from blocking other cars.

Research also refutes another misconception: that bike lanes are “bad for business.” They might be in the short term, which is how most small businesses owners operate because a bad month or two can ruin them (as the pandemic showed us). But loyal customers tend to return, whatever the circumstances, and stores and restaurants can gain new customers in cyclists (and pedestrians) who happen to pass by.

In other words, they benefit from latent demand. Hmm…If my economics course had included more examples like that…math would have remained my worst subject.

Admit It!

 Is this just another way to say “I crashed?”

The Winds of the Season

 On my way back from a ride to Fort Totten, I stopped on the Malcolm X Promenade and captured (I hope) some of the energy of a Fall day.

No Tour Ahead Of The Marathon

 I participated—twice as a marshal—in 15 of the first 25 Five Boro Bike Tours. In the early years, it was a lot of fun because all participants, whether they came from near or far, were cyclists: We rode, not because it was fashionable, but rather because it was in our blood. Sometimes I feel as if I am carrying the momentary bonds that formed between me and cyclists I haven’t seen in the decades since:  We were a kind of fraternity without the hazing; we understood each other.

But as the Tour grew from dozens to hundreds to thousands to tens of thousands, it felt less like a ride with a lot of friends and more like an Event (yes, with a capital E). It seemed more important to be, or be seen as, hip, whatever that meant at the moment. Some of the “cyclists” I saw on later rides reminded me of the kinds of people who go to galleries or museums with family or friends because that’s what they’re doing before brunch.

I don’t mean to come off as elitist: I am happy whenever people choose to ride. But I am not interested in showing how sophisticated I am (though, I admit, that was a priority when I was younger); I just want to ride, take in the sights and sounds and, if I am not riding solo, enjoying the company of others.

Oh, and I simply refuse to pay $100 for a ride that lasts only part of the day—even if Amelie is catering the rest stops and Calvin Klein designs the jerseys.

For the past two decades, however, it seems that a group of cyclists is doing the Tour without the Tour, if you will.  In the wee hours of morning, they set out along the New York City Marathon while the streets along the route are closed but the runners haven’t started.

Of course, the Marathon course is shorter than the Tour. But the former includes some of the latter, which is one reason why I make that comparison. Also, the ride is not sanctioned by any group or club, so I imagine that it feels, in a way, like one of the early Five Boro rides. 

I have not participated in one of those rides, but it’s hard to see the harm in it . Most people who knew about it apparently felt the same way:  Even police officers charged with blocking off the route didn’t seem to mind.

But, apparently, some folks in the New York Road Runners’ Club weren’t to keen on it. And there was a report of a cyclist hitting a pedestrian. So, the pre-Marathon ride is now forbidden, and the NYPD says that anyone who rides ahead of the Marathon will be stopped.

Marianne Martin: What Should Have Been

I am very happy that the Women's National Basketball Association is finally getting at least some of the attention it deserves--even if it took a heterosexual Great White Hope to get it.  As much as I like Caitlin Clark, her ascendancy begs this question:  Who will get more commercial endorsements, she or Brittney Griner?

That said, I am also happy to see the success of other women's sports, particularly tennis and soccer.  Both, I believe, have developed identities distinct from those of the men's games:  Tennis has had female players (like Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova and Serena Williams) who could beat most men, and female footballers had the advantage of not only being great, but also of not having to compete with men (at least in North America) for attention.

Once upon a time, women's cycling was like that, at least in the US.  From the mid-70's through the '80's, a generation of great American female riders won medals and accolades, though not a lot of money.  Unfortunately, time has not been kind to some of them: Mary Jane "Miji" Reoch was killed during a training ride.  Rebecca Twigg has fallen into homelessness. And now Marianne Martin has suffered a horrible crash that has left her with multiple injuries and a lot of pain.

If you're not yet in, ahem, midlife or a cycling fan, I can understand why you haven't heard about Ms. Martin.  But four decades ago, she shared the podium with Laurent Fignon, Bernard Hinault and Greg LeMond.

That year, Hinault achieved the fourth of his five Tour de France General Classification victories.  He would win his fifth the following year.  Fignon won the two previous Tours; a year after Hinault's final victory, Le Mond would win the first of his three Tour titles.  

So why was Marianne Martin on that stage? Well, she won the first edition of the Tour de France Feminin. Maria Canins of Italy and France's Jeanne Longo would finish first and second, respectively, in the 1985 and 1986 races; they would trade places for the last three TdFFs in  1987, 1988 and 1989.

In short, Marianne Martin was one of the most accomplished cyclists in the world. But her moment, like those of Reoch, Twigg and other members of that “Golden Generation” of American female cyclists (who included, among others, Connie Carpenter, Sue Novara and Sue Young) was all too brief. Some would argue that Greg LeMond’s Tour wins, and victories by other male American riders, overshadowed the women’s accomplishments. That’s true mainly because men’s sports garner so much more attention and sponsorship money.  Another reason why women’s racing dropped off the radar has to do, I believe, with attitudes about women in sports.

While there was arguably less gender inequality in American sports than in those of other countries, the distressing fact is that even in the US, female athletes got attention for things that had nothing to do with their athletic accomplishments. For all that she did on a bike, Twigg was noticed as much, or more, for her looks. In Europe, the center of bike racing, the situation was even worse: female riders often gained more fame, however fleeting, (or not-so-fleeting notoriety) for posing rather than pedaling.

Sex indeed sells, but only for so long. So does scandal. Ms. Martin did not generate, however inadvertently, the hype or hysteria of other athletes: She wasn’t even brushed with accusations of doping, as Longo has been.

Thus, riding her bike and being (as far as anyone knows) a good citizen was not enough to keep Marianne in the public eye. It took a horrible crash—caused, according to official accounts, over-correcting on the sort of high-speed turn she made hundreds, possibly thousands, of times before—to bring notice to her in a time when—I hope—women’s sports is ready taking its rightful place in the public’s view.