What Did He See?

 Today is Groundhog Day.

According to ancient folklore, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter will follow. If he doesn’t, spring is imminent.

Drumroll…

Six more weeks.  Well, that is more or less when Spring Equinox, a.k.a. the “official “ first day of Spring arrives.

Sometimes I think Andy Warhol had Phil in mind when he said that everyone will have 15 minutes of fame.

I wonder what he does during the rest of the year.

Update:  Staten Island Chuck, out local “colleague “ of Phil, didn’t see his shadow.

A Legend Remains Off-Limits

 The exact place and moment mountain biking was “born” has been debated. What hasn’t been disputed, however, is that it evolved from a few young people (their inhibitions possibly loosened by an herb, if you know what I mean) bombing down fire trails and rocky paths in Northern California and Upper New England (where cyclo-cross enjoyed some popularity) on old Schwinn ballon-tired bikes they bought for a couple of dollars in thrift stores or found in the rubbish.  Depending on whom you ask, that would have been in the early 1970s, or possibly even the 1960s.

Of course, it wasn’t called “mountain biking” or “off-road riding” until much later—after folks like Gary Fisher started to modify those bikes with derailleurs and cantilever brakes (coaster brakes on those old bikes burned out during long, steep descents) and Joe Breeze made bikes specifically for the purpose.

Another agreed-upon part of mountain bike lore:  One of its shrines, so to speak, is Mount Tamalpais, which offers stunning views of San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Pacific Ocean. In fact, “Mount Tam” is so iconic—in a way that l’Alpe d’Huez is in road bike racing—that bicycles, parts, accessories and clothing have been named for it.

Mountain bikers before it was “mountain biking “ on Mount Tamalpais during the 1970s.  Photo by Wende Cragg.

There are, however, some major differences between the two peaks. For one, the summit of Huez, in the French Alps, is about three times as high as “Tam.” And the views, while stunning, are entirely different. 

Also, there is a paved road with 21 virages, which is open to cyclists except, of course, when the race is approaching. (I climbed it in 2001, just before a ride up another iconic Tour de France climb would change my life. Tamalpais, on the other hand, is accessible only by trails—which have been off-limits to cyclists for about four decades.

In October, local cyclists thought they’d won “their” mountain back after the ban was lifted.  Or so they thought.

Photo by Maureen Gaffney for Outside magazine.

Just when they were ready to take a celebratory ride on the trails, a judge issued a restraining order. Turns out, several groups and the water safety commission lobbied against the opening. They cited concerns about dangers to plant and animal life—which includes rare species—and the water supply.  

Those concerns have been the basis of other bans, mainly in National and State parks.  Opening “Tam” would have involved only two trails: one for conventional mountain bikes, the other for electric mountain bikes.  I can’t help but to think the latter may have been a reason for the lobbying and the judge’s ruling:  They believe (perhaps rightly) that noise and vibrations from eBikes (which didn’t exist 40 years ago) will disturb wildlife.

It will be interesting, to say the least, to see whether Otis Guy, now 71 years old and part of the protest against the judge’s order, will ever be able to ride again on the mountain he, Gary Fisher, Joe Breeze and others made into a shrine of their beloved sport half a century ago.

QBP: DEI!

 Blame it on DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) and the organization’s “woke” agenda.

At least, that’s what he-whom-I-will-not-name would do if he paid any attention to the bicycle industry.

I’m talking about Quality Bicycle Products which, as their name implies, supplies fine bikes, parts and accessories to retailers. They are known in the industry for their efforts to promote DEI, not only within their own ranks, but also the industry.

One example of the latter was their mechanics’ school, which offered scholarships to “women, trans, non-binary, non-conforming or intersex” US residents who worked in the industry.

Notice that I wrote of the school in the past tense:  It closed about a year and a half ago. Were he President, and had he paid attention to the bike industry, the Fake Tan Fūhrer (FTF) would have screamed, “DEI! Woke!”

 In reality, QBP’s decision to close its academy had, to some degree, to do with the “bust” that afflicted the industry after the “boom” early in the COVID-19 pandemic. Then again, other schools, like that of United Bicycle Institute, have had waiting lists. 

Why? Well, schools like UBI and Appalachian don’t limit their enrollment to people already employed in the industry. While some UBI and Appalachian students work in the business, others are young people or career-changers who want to work in the bike trade. Still others are home mechanics who simply want to improve their skills.

On the other hand, QBP’s policy meant that few mechanics, of whatever gender identity or expression, could attend. Few bike shops could or would pay the tuition (and lodging and travel expenses) to send their mechanics to school: Shop owners and mechanics usually train employees themselves and expect those employees to augment their knowledge with online resources. (In my day, we used books and manuals.) So, attendees tended to be either scholarship recipients or better-paid employees of bike-related companies—like QBP.

Speaking of whom:  QBP is laying off two percent of its workforce. That will be the company’s third reduction of staff numbers in just over two years. Of course, QBP isn’t the only bicycle-related concern to let go of employees (or close altogether) in the wake of the “crash” that followed the “sugar rush,” so to speak, of increased demand during the pandemic. But if FTF were watching:  “DEI! Woke agenda! Send the military to the border!”

A Century-Old Traffic Ordinance: A Cause Of This Year's Wildfires?

 For most of this month, a series of wildfires has wrought death and destruction in the Los Angeles area.  The summer--hotter, drier and longer than usual--turned trees, homes and much else into tinder. While it has yet to be determined what was/were the match(es), so to speak, that sparked the  conflagrations, we know that they were fanned by historically strong Santa Ana winds. According to two separate studies--one from the University of California-Los Angeles (UCLA), the other from World Weather Attribution, a collaboration of international scientists--the L.A. fires bear "fingerprints" of climate change in the increasingly hot and dry conditions of the area, which can be linked to heat-trapping gases emitted by burning fossil fuels.

We all know that climate change isn't only about this day's or season's weather; it's about long-term trends. Researchers now agree that Earth has been heating and drying at an faster pace during the mid-to-late 19th Century, or about two or three generations after the Industrial Revolution began.  But there are particular events that can be said to have been accelerants to the fire, so to speak.

One of those events, like many others, was the passage of a piece of legislation--in this case, a local ordinance--which had broader and more dire consequences than anyone at the time could have imagined.

I am referring to the Traffic Ordinance for the City of Los Angeles. Passed  exactly a century ago last Friday, this 35-page piece of legislation, among other things, increased speed limits for automobiles so that they were faster than streetcars, of which the "City of Angels" had the largest network in the world. It also gave primacy to automobiles on the city's streets in other ways:  For example, pedestrians were forbidden from walking or crossing except in narrowly-defined spaces.  While touted as a way to decrease the number of conflicts between autos and pedestrians, and to thus increase "safety," the ordinance had the effect of turning over the streets to motorized traffic and sharply increasing the number of traffic fatalities, especially among children and the elderly.

The Ordinance was drafted by Miller McClintock, a Harvard doctoral student of municipal government.  Perhaps one could have forgiven him for not understanding the consequences of his actions; after all, automobiles were seen as "progress" and modernity.  But he was, in fact, recruited by one Paul Hoffman, a staunch champion of the auto industry.  In contrast to McClintock, Hoffman dropped out of the University of Chicago at 18--and began to sell Studebakers.  By the time he enlisted McClintock, he was close to making his first million dollars and had been appointed chairman of the Los Angeles Traffic Commission--a body responsible for regulating the city's streets. 

A street in downtown L.A. on the eve of the ordinance.

If you have seen Los Angeles at almost any time since the ordinance passed, you might find it difficult to believe that it had the world's largest streetcar network--or that was as much of a cycling city as Copenhagen and Amsterdam are today.  Similar descriptions could have been made of San Francisco, New York, Chicago and other American cities.  But those places, and others in the US, quickly went, to one degree or another, the way of Los Angeles.  And the Ordinance also influenced the planning of cities that barely existed at the time it was drafted:  the ones where sidewalks and public transportation are non-existent and the only way to get to work, school or shop is on "stroads," which have no provision for anything that doesn't have a motor and at least four wheels.

So what does the Ordiance or its influence have to do with the wildfires?  Well, plenty, if scientists are correct in finding climate change's "fingerprints" in the blazes:  Transportation is responsible for the largest share of greenhouse gases, and the large number of private automobiles are the biggest culprits among all forms of mobility.

Under a Bridge, Through a Gate

The semester has begun and I’ve been busy.  I had just enough time the other day for a 25 kilometer non-commute ride.

I pedaled to Randall’s Island, where I did a couple of laps that took me under the Art Deco-inspired Queens span of the RFK Memorial Bridge 

and the Gate of Hell

or, more precisely, the Hell Gate Bridge.

Five Times The Pleasure—Or Pain?

 One of the dilemmas (dilemmae?) of going on a ride with a random group of people is that, more than likely, their experience and abilities vary, sometimes greatly. If there isn’t an agreement about the distance, pace and rest stops, such a ride can tax the endurance of one rider and the patience of another.

Could this be a solution?

A Ride Through History

 One of my passions—obsessions, perhaps—is learning the history, especially African-American and colonial, I wasn’t taught in school.

I got to thinking about that when I realized that next month is African American history month—and the sixtieth anniversary of at least two important parts of that history are coming up.

One of them is the marches from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. The other is the assassination of Malcolm X.

About Malcolm:  He was completely misrepresented, if he was mentioned at all.  I first realized as much when I read his autobiography. (That, I believe, motivated me to learn as much as I can about the history I wasn’t taught.) It seems that educators—and the culture generally—has misunderstood and misused “by any means necessary” to paint Malcolm as a maniac with homicide in his heart. He was changing even as he told his story to Alex Haley, his collaborator on his autobiography and, I believe, would have repudiated some of the things he said then—let alone in his earlier speeches—had he lived longer. But even the portrait that emerged from his autobiography and his speeches made him heroic to me because one of his underlying messages was that people have to free themselves from whatever enslaves them, whether it’s an exploitative system, an addictive substance or William Blake’s “mind forg’d manacles.”

Speaking of enslavement:  The March from Selma to Montgomery occurred just a few weeks before the 100th anniversary of the American Civil War’s end. (Anyone who tells you that the war wasn’t about slavery is ignorant or dishonest.) But a century later, Blacks—and poor Whites—weren’t free of their shackles.  Moreover, they were paying a tax, if you will, on those restraints they bore. But they we’re fighting—and often paying with blood and flesh—to fight them, and their imposers, off. That is about as far from the picture of the Civil Rights movement textbooks and the media painted for us: a sunny diorama of Martin intoning “I have a dream” and well-intentioned people chanting “We shall overcome,” all of it sepia-tinged to make White liberals of the time look heroic and those of today feel good about themselves for admiring them.

All right, I’ll get off my soapbox. (Standing on it while wearing cleats is precarious!) There will be a number of commemorations, including a marches. And, the other day, a bike ride followed the route.

Congestion Relief=Crash Relief?

 Streetsblog is an excellent source of information about road and transit conditions, and city policies. One thing that makes it so good is that most of the posts are written from the perspective of people who actually walk, cycle and drive the city’s streets and ride its buses and trains. That, I believe, accounts for why I enjoy, and feel affirmed by, reading it: Streetsblog’s editors and contributors understand (and offer the data to confirm) that creating a safe, sustainable and affordable city isn’t a zero-sum game between the safety of cyclists and pedestrians and the interests of drivers. Rather, they support and explain the principle that when cyclists and pedestrians are safer, motorists can move about more efficiently—and safely.

As Gersh Kuntman reported, the first twelve days of congestion pricing in midtown and lower Manhattan—the most densely populated and commercially active part of New York City—has cut the number of crashes and injuries by half compared to the same time period last year.

That period included ten business days and a weekend, as it did last year. While that laudable decrease came after an “outlier” year in 2024, this year’s statistics nonetheless show a 48 percent drop in crashes and 27 percent decrease in injuries from 2023. Moreover, the 2025 numbers are even lower than those of the corresponding periods of 2021 and 2022, which were affected by the COVID pandemic.

Photo and photoshop by Gertz Kuntzman

The explanation, according to Metropolitan Transportation Authority Policy and External Relations Chief John J. McCarthy, is basic math. “Seems logical that fewer vehicles, less gridlock and calmer traffic flow in the congestion relief zone would lead to a decrease in crashes and injuries,” he said.

And less-congested and safer streets are better for everyone who interacts with them, says Ben Furnas, Transportation Alternatives’ Executive Director. “One less crash can mean that a parent gets home to their kid, a worker reaches their job safely or a cyclist arrives unharmed,” he explained. (Italics mine.)

So, it turns out—as the title of Gertzman’s post announces—that the congestion-relief zone, as the area affected by congestion pricing is called, is actually a crash-relief zone. That sounds like a “win-win” situation.

The Driver Struck A Pillar—And Ran

 Every community has its “pillars”: People who lead, who show what is possible and give—of their time and, often, their own resources.

When such a “pillar” passes away, the community mourns. And when the death is particularly tragic, the grief is all the more palpable.

Cycling communities are no different. Granted, their numbers may be smaller and their pillars may not be as widely known, but the deaths of their leaders, as often as not, touch people outside of their networks—especially if the death was caused by someone else’s carelessness or indifference.

Photo courtesy of Mike Lucero for the Albuquerque Journal.

So it was for Chuck Malagodi. He was known, not only for his tireless advocacy, but also for the ways he used bicycles and bicycling to contribute to his hometown of Albuquerque, New Mexico.

During the 25 years he ran the city’s outdoor recreation program, he created the Free Bikes 4 Kids program and turned a library into Esperanza Community Bike Shop, where “kids could learn to be mechanics, kids could just have a space to hang out and be safe,” according to his daughter Angelina. It was “a community center,” she explained.

Oh, and Malagodi created a bicycle safety curriculum for elementary and junior high students. That makes his death tragically ironic:  A driver struck him less than a mile from his home and took off.

That, after he’d spent a Saturday afternoon fixing up bicycles to give to children. His friend Mike Lucero offered him a ride home. “I’ll ride my bike,” Chuck demurred.

In addition to his daughter and wife, Chuck Malagodi leaves behind hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of children who received bikes and bike safety training from him, and kids and adults he introduced to the joys of cycling and other outdoor activities. And, one can assume that most, if not all, had family, friends, neighbors, classmates and co-workers.

If and when the driver of the pickup truck is caught, I want more than a punishment. I want that driver to understand, to feel, the hole he/she/they tore, not only in Albuquerque’s cycling and outdoor recreation communities, but in whatever other communities—families, networks of friends, neighborhoods, schools, workplaces—of which they are part.

Return To Him This Day

 

Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day.

Today is also the day Donald Trump is inaugurated for another term.

I can hardly think of a sadder, more terrible irony.

And I can’t watch the coronation inauguration ceremony. I just can’t.

Say “Hello”’To Boots

 Today I won’t do my usual “Sunday funnies.” Don’t worry: There won’t be any bad news today.  Tomorrow might be another story…

Anyway, while this will be a “happy” post, it won’t be related to bicycles or cycling.  Not directly, anyway.

Whatever relation this has to two wheels and two pedals rests with “Sam,” my new neighbor and cycling buddy.  I’ve been spending off-bike time with him and his girlfriend “Cora.” 

Well, if you’ve been following this blog, you know that one of the few things I love as much as bicycles and bicycling is cats. So I was as happy as they were when they welcomed “Boots” into their home.

Marlee is taking the news in stride.

Ya Still Gotta Park It Right

 How often do A-List celebrities ride bicycles down the red carpet?

I’ll admit I’m hardly an authority on who’s an A-List, B-List, Z-List or Whatever-List celebrity. But Timothée Chalamet is certainly in the spotlight these days.

One reason is his portrayal of Bob Dylan in the recently-released film “A Complete Unknown.”  For its London premiere, he rode down the red carpet on a Lime electric bike.

OK, so it was an electric bike from a share network. Still, I give the guy “props” for not arriving in a limousine—and for his stated intention. “It’s ecological,” he explained. He later admitted, however, that he was trying to beat traffic.

Whatever his motive, the London police were not amused. He was hit with a £65 (about $79 at current exchange rates) fine—for not parking the bike properly.

I’m sure that won’t break his bank, and fans of him, the movie and Bob Dylan won’t care much.

Rising

 After seeing this

how could I not go for a morning ride?

Why Do They—And We—Break Traffic Laws?

For a time, I belonged to a church that propagated the belief that we inevitably sin because we are innately sinners. I wondered whether that logic applies to secular law: Do we break laws because we are inherently criminals?

Although I believe the answer is “no,” I can understand why some people would think otherwise. At least one study indicates that the average person breaks a law every day. As often as not, the offenses are unintentional. But why do otherwise upstanding citizens have, shall we say, moments when they don’t play by one rule or another?

The answer, I guess, is that it depends on the situation, which rule or regulation is being flouted or ignored, and why.  An Idaho (Now you know where this is going if you’ve been reading my blog regularly!) survey of road users indicates as much.

According to that survey, 95.9 percent of cyclists reported breaking a traffic law. That is only slightly less than the 97.9 percent of pedestrians and 99.97 percent of drivers who admitted to doing the same.

What distinguishes cyclists from pedestrians and motorists, however, are their motivations for law-breaking. While 85 percent of drivers and 71 percent of foot-travelers said they broke or ignored traffic regulations to save time, 71 percent of bicycle riders said they skirted a rule for their own safety.

That statistic is part of an argument advocates in California and other states are making for the adoption of the so-called Idaho Stop. Since 1982, the Gem State has allowed cyclists to proceed through a “Stop” sign if there is no cross-traffic at the intersection.  Since then, a number of states and other jurisdictions in the US and Europe have adopted it or similar policies.

Photo by Melanie Curry for Streetsblog CA

Studies indicate that allowing cyclists to, in essence, treat a “stop” sign as a “yield” sign has a somewhat positive or, at worst, neutral effect on safety for cyclists, pedestrians and motorists. 

Authors of those studies, however, also recommend that instruction about the “Idaho Stop” and its benefits be included in driver’s education courses and manuals. The reason for that is simple: In spite of those studies—and testimonies from cyclists like me—many drivers and law enforcement officers believe that the “Idaho Stop” leads to reckless, lawless cycling. As any cyclist can tell you, proceeding through an intersection ahead of traffic flowing in the same direction is safer for everyone involved, assuming there is no cross traffic. For one thing, it all but eliminates the chance that a cyclist will be hit by a right-turning vehicle and greatly reduces the risk of being struck from behind or by oncoming drivers making a left turn. It also reduces the likelihood of a cyclist striking a pedestrian.

Most of the jurisdictions that have legalized the “Idaho Stop” or similar legislation did so during the half-decade or so before the COVID-19 pandemic. Since then, attempts to enshrine it in California, my home state of New York and other places have been stalled or halted largely because of panic about eBike safety. That concern grew in part because of electric motorcycles illegally sold as eBikes (which, in most cities and states, don’t require permits or licenses) and because the use of legal and illegal machines grew exponentially as delivery-app services swelled in popularity. Consumers demand fast deliveries; app companies make delivery workers, most of whom are immigrants, work under unrealistic time frames. 

The result?  Delivery workers who run red lights and ignore traffic signs —so that Buffy and Dane can get their sushi in ten minutes. And cyclists like me have to break a rule or two to keep from getting hit by them.

Calling Me To Attention

 Late yesterday, I rode the Bronx River Greenway. Cold dry wind rasped through bare branches. Birds tweeted—one, I noticed, louder and in a more plaintive way, as if pleading for something—to be rescued? Or simply to be noticed?

Of course I couldn’t rescue that darling little creature. But seeing it made my ride, and day.  I hope he/she/it felt the same way.

The Latest Pandemics?

 During the worst days of the COVID-19 pandemic, I and nearly everyone I knew had a relative, friend, co-worker, neighbor or other acquaintance who died from the illness. Something similar happened during the AIDS crisis, before effective treatments came along:  Between Memorial Day and Christmas of 1991, five people—including two good friends—were claimed by AIDS-related illnesses.

Lately, when I type “bicycle news” into a browser, I feel as if I’m getting a view of two other “pandemics,” if you will. The first one I’ll describe is, in its own way, as dire as—and, arguably, more preventable than—the COVID and AIDS epidemics. The other isn’t nearly so tragic, though it brings sadness and inconvenience to many.

Every day, it seems, there are more reports of cyclists killed or seriously injured when they are struck by— or more infrequently, strike—motor vehicles. Such incidents, which are often misnamed as “accidents,” are as often as not a result of poor road or bike infrastructure: For example, an intersection is configured, signals are timed (and dangerous laws enforced) so that cyclists cross directly into the path of turning vehicles.

(What I know about public health is on par with what I know about sub-atomic physics. So take what I am about to say for what it’s worth: If the Centers for Disease Control could declare—rightly, as they did—that gun violence in the US a public health crisis, the needless deaths of cyclists and pedestrians should also be so designated.)

The other, less catastrophic “epidemic” is part of the COVID pandemic’s fallout. As I and others noted, there was a “boom,” however brief, during the epidemic’s early days:  Many people took up, or returned to, cycling while already-active cyclists like me rode even more than we’d already been riding. 

Ironically, some shops (most notably Harris Cyclery, Sheldon Brown’s old home base) closed their doors because they ran out of bikes, parts, helmets and other related items just as nothing was coming through the supply chains. But even more shops—and manufacturers and suppliers of bicycles and related goods—fell victim during the past two years or so. In some cases, those companies ordered merchandise once supply chains opened up, but the ‘boom” went “bust.” 

There were also other challenges. People who might have bought traditional bicycles in the recent past are now buying electric bikes. And among buyers of non-assisted bikes, tastes—and the ways people buy bikes and related goods—change.

But another iconic company faced another challenge: where they make their products. I suspect that had something to do with Mercian’s near-death experience last year: Their frames are built and finished by hand in high-wage, high-cost UK. (A group of local cycling enthusiasts purchased the company a few weeks after it ceased trading and re-hired the frame builders who’d been working there.) And location, location, location was cited in CEO Daniel Emerson’s announcement that Light & Motion, a California manufacturer of lights for cycling (and diving and photography) is ceasing operations.

One passage from his open letter, in particular, could have been a jab at President Joe Biden or President-elect Donald Trump, both of whom have talked about bringing manufacturing back to the US, albeit by different means: “[T]he political winds, regardless of the talk, have been against US manufacturing, which continues its decline.”

I’m no economist, but my guess, however uneducated, is that his announcement should be heeded as a warning: It will take more than rhetoric, an “inflation reduction act” or punitive tariffs to bring manufacturing, of bicycle lights or anything else, “back” to the US. For one thing, once companies like Light & Motion shutter, their resources and expertise move elsewhere—or are simply lost. Factories become condos and cannot be re-opened as manufacturing facilities. Also, even if the product—whether it’s a bike light or an iPhone—were to be made in some low-wage, low-tax, non-union state, they probably will need components made in China or other countries. (If you bought, say, a US-made Cannondale or Trek, almost everything hung on the frame—and, perhaps the material for the frame itself —came from somewhere else.)

So, I would say that the two “epidemics” I’ve mentioned—bicycle fatalities and the demise of bicycle-related businesses—and the ways in which the COVID and AIDS epidemics unnecessarily claimed lives, are both due, at least in part, to wrongheadedness or mendacity on the part of politicians and policy-makers.

Whatever Your Color

 A wise old philosopher told me,  “It takes a real man to ride a pink bike.”

Branching Out Before A Ride

Yesterday afternoon seemed tropical (5C or 40F high temperature with moderate wind) compared to the previous few days.  I pedaled La-Vance, my Mercian King of Mercia, to Fort Totten and back, via the Bronx River Greenway, Randall’s Island and the Malcolm X Promenade.  The Bronx and East Rivers (the latter of which is rimmed by the Promenade) bore crusts of ice—not thick enough to skate on, but probably safe for a small bird to land in the shadow of La Guardia Airport—on their banks.

Before settling out on my ride, I made a quick run to Addeo’s for one of their sourdough loaves. (Their pan de casa is also wonderful.) Along the way, I saw signs that although the day was warmer than the past few, we are still in the throes of winter.

Where were those shadow “images ?” On the local Department of Motor Vehicles building. Somehow I think they’re reflections of what some people feel upon entering or leaving.

Driver And Lane Blamed For Crash

 I’m surprised it doesn’t happen more frequently.

I’m not talking about the crash that resulted when someone drove a Tesla SUV across a Seattle bike lane to access a parking lot. Unfortunately, I’m also not referring to the life-altering brain injury Aviv Litov suffered when his bike hit the car. 

What I am about to mention is the lawsuit that’s followed. Not surprisingly, the Tesla driver is a defendant, as the suit cites her negligence. But the other defendant is one not often named in such cases:  the city itself.  

The lawsuit, filed by the Strittmatter firm in Seattle, alleges that the lane’s faulty design was a factor in the crash that landed Litov in a hospital for two months and has led to a long, arduous road to heal. 

The lane on Green Lake Drive appears to be like many here in New York (including the one along Astoria’s Crescent Street, where I lived until last March) and other American cities:  It’s separated from the traffic lane by a line of parked cars.

Those cars certainly are an effective barrier.  But in some spots—particularly driveways and intersections that cross those lanes—those parked vehicles also obstruct visibility for both cyclists and drivers. Too often, frustrated motorists make risky maneuvers to turn—or cyclists simply can’t see them until it’s too late.

I hope Litov has a full—or as full as possible—recovery. And it will be interesting, to say the least, to see whether more municipalities or their contractors are held to account for poor bike lane conception, design, construction or maintenance—of which I’ve seen plenty or, should I say, too much.

Jimmy Carter

 Today witnessed Jimmy Carter’s funeral.

Whatever one thinks of his politics and his overall world-view, he is—at least in my eyes—the best human being to occupy the White House during my lifetime .

That isn’t to say, of course, that he was perfect: Early in his career, he made a few compromises that, to be fair, some may see as having been necessary in the political climate of his place and time.  Still, to his credit, most of his positions and policies were consistent with his liberal philosophy and his Christian faith, as he understood it.

During the ride I took the other day, I made a point of peddling up and down Charlotte Street, which is about 4 kilometers (2.5 miles) from my apartment. While it looks nothing like it did the day he made his impromptu visit nearly half a century ago, I had a sense-memory of the smoke and ashes that filled the street (which I wouldn’t see until many years later) and others similarly devastated.

While I remember seeing and hearing about that visit—and his work that followed, during and after his presidency, these might be, for me, the most enduring images of him:

Out Of The Fire

 Here in New York, we’re having the coldest weather we’ve had in a while. So some of you may interpret my writing about Los Angeles for the third day in a row is an expression of an unconscious wish.

I can honestly deny that, as I’ve gone for rides, however short, during our cold spell.  Also, I wouldn’t want to be in the L.A. area at this moment because my ride would be more like this:

Lady on bike escaping flames from #palisadesfire pic.twitter.com/N76am4Tf1C

— JASMINE VIEL (@jasmineviel) January 8, 2025

The Driver Who Thought A Paceline Was A Slamom

 A driver weaves through a group of cyclists, narrowly missing them.  At one point, he is actually driving in the wrong direction for the traffic lane.

On a video of the incident, someone can be heard yelling for the cyclists to watch out.

Shortly afterwards, a group of people smash the car in a parking garage about a mile from where the driver used the cyclists as a slalom course.

That incident was also captured on video.

Guess what the police have done.

They “believe” the incidents are “related.” But they didn’t arrest the driver. They are, however, pursuing vandalism charges against the people who smashed his car.

Call me a cynic, but I wonder whether the response to one incident and lack thereof to the other has something to do with the fact that the car in question is a late-model white Mercedes.

Whatever the constables’ motives and reasoning, it’s an example of what made Mimi Holt, whom I mentioned in yesterday’s post, give up cycling for nearly two decades when she moved to Los Angeles. She resumed riding after her doctor diagnosed her as a pre-diabetic, but says she’d feel a lot safer if there was a comprehensive network of bike lanes.

If she’s heard about the incident I mentioned today (it happened on Saturday), I am sure it reminded her of why she gave up cycling—and what police need to do in order to ensure that she and others can ride in (relative) safety.

Will The Olympics Turn L..A. Into Copenhagen On The Pacific? I

In 2028, what will Los Angeles have in common with London and Paris?

Three years from now, all three cities will have hosted the summer Olympics three times. London became the charter member of that “club” in 2012, having been the site of the 1908 and 1948 games.  The French capital joined last year on the centennial of its second games (1924) and after being the venue for the games’ second edition in 1900.

L.A. (No American calls it by its full name!) witnessed the 1932 and 1984 games.  Beyond this distinction, however, the second-most populous city in the United States would seem to have little in common with The Great Wen or The City of Light.  For one thing, both European capitals are older than their countries; indeed, each was founded during the Roman Empire. The City of Angels, by contrast, wasn’t founded until 1781, five years after the United States. It wouldn’t become part of the US for nearly seven more decades and today isn’t even the capital of California, let alone the United States. And it really didn’t gain any real significance until the 1920s, when the nascent aerospace and motion picture industries developed there. Until then, San Francisco was, by far, the largest American city west of St. Louis—which hosted the third summer games in 1904.

Oh, and there’s the climate: Since the Dodgers’ baseball team moved to Los Angeles in 1958, only 17 games have been rained out, all of them in April. (They play 81 home games during a regular season.)  Football (what we Americans call “soccer “) matches are rarely, if ever, postponed because of weather, even though the English Premier League and Ligue 1 seasons run through the fall, winter and early spring. Conditions can include fog, cold and just about any kind of precipitation. In other words, the weather typically has more in common with Amsterdam or Copenhagen than with L.A.

That last factor is particularly interesting when you consider that the Dutch and Danish capitals are practically synonymous with cycling, Paris is regaining that status and London seems to be making progress towards that. But southern California, which would seem to have an excellent year-round climate for cycling, is only beginning to develop a cycling infrastructure. Indeed, one can argue that L.A., with its freeways, is the world’s first auto-centric metropolis and has never been described as a “walkable “ city.

That situation is starting to change, spurred—as in Paris and London—by upcoming Olympic Games. While there are bike lanes in L.A., Mimi Holt describes them as “islands.” 

Ms. Holt had been a daily cyclist in Seattle but quit after moving to L.A. “In L.A. people drive so fast, it’s so utterly terrifying.”  Recently, however, a diagnosis of pre-diabetes motivated her to resume riding after nearly 20 years. She says that if the paths were connected, she would be on them “all the time “ and would get rid of her car if cycling safety everywhere in Los Angeles were an option.

If the plans of Mayor Karen Bass come into fruition, Holt’s wish could come true. Mayor Bass is working with the city’s Olympic Committee to create a “transit first” games. It must be said, however, that goal is a compromise: She sparked controversy when she originally called for a “car free” (in L.A.!) Olympics.  And proponents fear that the bike lanes and mass transit improvements won’t be completed in time.

But if enough lanes are built, and enough enhancements are made to bus and train lines, Los Angeles might have something more in common with Paris and London than hosting three Olympic Games: The 2028 games might be as accessible without cars as the 2012 and 2024 Games were. Now, as for the climate and culture…

Rearguard Marlee?

Hmm…Perhaps Marlee can ride with me after all.

I wonder how the woman feels about the arrangement.

Share, Don’t Impair

When I ride, I obey traffic laws as much as I can without endangering myself or others. So, for example, I’ll stop for a red light at a busy intersection and, if there is no cross-traffic, I’ll proceed through the intersection ahead of drivers traveling in the same direction in order to avoid drivers who are about to turn.

More importantly, I try to follow the rules of civilization as I understand them. Therefore, in an intersection that doesn’t have a traffic signal or “Stop” sign, I’ll stop if I see that someone with mobility issues is crossing. And on narrow or busy streets I pull aside for ambulances and fire trucks.

Oh, and I try not to park anywhere where it might impede the kinds of people for whom I stop.

I mention my habits, not because I want you to think I’m a wonderful person, but to make a point about some of the behaviors for which I, and other cyclists, are unfairly blamed.

A while back, a driver made a point of pulling into an intersection I was crossing—when she had a red light and I had the green.  She rolled down her window and screamed at me—not for anything I did, but to complain that “you bike riders” leave bikes on the sidewalk.

Fortunately, there was no other traffic in that intersection, so I could take a moment to “school’ her.  “Really? I don’t know any cyclists who do that.”

“I see those day-glo green bikes on the sidewalk by my house,” she lamented.

Then I realized she was talking about eBikes, probably from Lime.  Apparently, they and other dockless eBike share systems allow users to leave the bikes anywhere as long as the bikes aren’t obstructing pavements.

Now, I don’t want to tar all eBike share users with a broad brush. (It’s a good thing I didn’t make a New Year’s resolution not to use clichés!) But in my admittedly-unscientific observations, just about every bike I see abandoned on a sidewalk is an eBike from a share system.  The abandoned bicycles I see are almost always locked to parking meters, lamp posts, fences or other immobile structures.

An eBike lying on the sidewalk is an annoyance or, at worst an inconvenience, for somebody like me. On the other hand, it’s an obstacle, or even a danger, for a person with mobility issues.

That is something Lucy Edwards wants eBike share users to understand. The blind content creator navigates London with her guide dog Miss Molly—that is, when the sidewalks are clear. But if someone has left an eBike on its side, “I don’t know how to get past” if “I don’t have someone with me.”

So…if you use a dockless eBike (or, for that matter, regular bike), please leave it out of the way of someone I (and, I hope, you) would stop for in an intersection.

Why Did He Build This?

 During my “afternoon delight” ride, I came across this:

In the Bronx, one can find many buildings like it: handsome, even beautiful, structures built during the early 20th century, just after the Bronx became a borough of New York City.

(Most of the Art Deco buildings for which the Bronx is famous were constructed during the interwar period.)

Like so many structures in the Bronx—and throughout New York City—it is not serving its original intended purpose.  Today a moving and storage company operates in it. From some of the building’s details, I am guessing that it was once a medical or health facility of some sort.

What really intrigued me, though, was this:

Apparently, a “Cuneo” family was involved.  That caught my eye, in part because I cycled to Cuneo, Italy during a bicycle tour of the Alps.  But I couldn’t help but to notice the inscription for Lorenzo Cuneo, born during the same year—1913–Anthony Cuneo erected the building but who died in 1924.  I would think that he was Anthony’s son, nephew or grandson.  Why did he die so young?

When I stopped to look at the building, someone gave me a suspicious glance. Did she think I wanted to buy the building (which I am in no position to do) and price her out of the neighborhood? Or is she one of many people in this city who pass things that are beautiful, interesting or simply unusual but has no curiosity about it?