If The Milk Is Free...

Just over a week ago, I wrote about Pop Tarts and other seemingly-improbable energy sources for cyclists.

I also confessed that I fueled myself through France on jambon beurre sandwiches. Turns out, I was closer to eating a diet of champions than some might expect:  In 1972, when Eddy Mercx set a new hour record (which would stand for 12 years) in Mexico, he started his day with a breakfast of toast, ham and cheese he brought from Belgium.

Today, many hard-core cyclists--racers in particular--would disdain such a diet.  Many are vegans or vegetarians; others eschew certain categories of foods they believe are harmful.  Dairy products gather particular scorn from such riders.

But, as Mercx's "breakfast of champions" shows us, dairy products were considered a perfectly acceptable part of a training regimen.  In fact, not so long ago, most athletes and trainers believed that milk was beneficial for, even vital to, cycling.

Cyclists weren't the only ones who shared the faith, if you will.  When I was growing up, our science textbooks told us that milk was the "perfect food".  Athletes were even recruited to promote milk:

Joyce Barry, in an ad for the Australian Milk Board, September 1939

In the 1930s and 1940s, Joyce Barry did a number of record-setting rides in her native Australia.  Now, while the image of Ms. Barry might have made milk seem like a good training beverage , her story is an even better testimony to the health benefits of cycling.

In her early teens, an attack of pneumonia left her with weak lungs.  To build them, and the rest of her body, up her doctor recommended cycling.  


Three years after taking up cycling, she found a mentor. Hubert Opperman--"Oppie"--was himself a record-setting cyclist who found fame in England and France.  

In case you were wondering what he ate:

Hubert Opperman enjoying, er, his training food, 1936

"The health food of a nation" indeed.  I wonder what he (and Ms. Barry) were paid. 

Bike Lane Follies, Here And Down Under

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you might have noticed that I am not enthusiastic, in general, about bike lanes. 

A separate bike lane, especially one that runs alongside traffic, is not intrinsically safer for cyclists than a traffic lane on a typical city or suburban street.  The biggest flaw in most bike lanes I've seen and ridden is that they're positioned so that it's all but impossible for cyclists, especially inexperienced ones, to turn or cross safely at major intersections.  This is particularly true for those lanes that, in effect, turn into the right-turn lane for motor vehicles at such intersections, or for those streets that have right-turn-only lanes that cross the bike lane.  Things are even worse for a cyclist making a left turn at such an intersection, as he or she must cross several lanes of traffic coming from different directions.  This particular hazard is exacerbated when traffic flows off a highway into the intersection.

There are also other hazards, such as pedestrians who use the bike lanes as sidewalks or who wander onto them while they're texting or talking on their phones.  Two of the worst lanes I've experienced for that are the portion of Manhattan's First Avenue lane below (south of) 14th Street and Brooklyn's Kent Avenue lane (the one that skirts the Williamsburg waterfront).  Both lanes are lined with stores, restaurants, clubs and bars.  The clubs and bars pose particular hazards, especially during evenings and weekends, with patrons staggering out to the lanes.  But even shoppers and restaurant-goers too often aren't paying attention to their surroundings as they walk, and sometimes talk, with others.  And, of course, the drinkers, shoppers and restaurant-goers often leave debris in the lane.

Not to mention the drivers who steer their vans and trucks into the lanes to make deliveries at those establishments--or the driver who  pulls in mistakenly, to make a turn or, on rare occasion, out of sheer malice.  And, yes, police officers who their cruisers in the lanes while they're having coffee.

But even worse than the hazards I've mentioned or lanes that are poorly-designed (or -constructed or -maintained) are those that are built in ignorance or defiance of regulations governing them.  One such lane is found in Melbourne, Australia:



Apparently, according to Austroad's guidelines (see p. 30, Figure 4.27) a bike lane should be 1.2 to 1.5 meters wide and be separated from the parking lane by a strip 0.4 to 1.0 meters wide.  The bike lane in the video clearly does not follow that principle.

A few years ago, I was "doored" in a similar lane not far from my apartment in Queens.  The marked bike lane was not in any way separated from the parking lane to the right of it.  Fortunately for me, I did not take a full facial hit; I took a glancing blow that left me looking like I was pregnant on one side for a couple of weeks.

Now, from what I understand, Austroad's guidelines are not law or in-any-other-way-binding policy, so perhaps the designer of the lane in the video was (in addition to a non-cyclist, most likely) possibly ignorant of them. 

Similarly, the Department of Transportation here in New York City has guidelines for bike lanes (pp.55-59) but they are essentially unenforceable.  To be fair, those guidelines include some of the flaws I have pointed out in this and other posts.  However, the guidelines call for physical barriers between two-way bike lanes and arterial streets, in addition to clear markings between one-way bike lanes and narrower streets.  I have ridden on bike lanes that fail to meet those criteria.  And, worse, those lanes include some of the other design flaws I've mentioned, particularly when it comes to turns and merges--or, worst of all, bike lanes that suddenly disappear.

The thing that rankles me most, though, is that even such dry technical documents as the ones issued by the Department of Transportation continue to blithely tout the "benefits" of bike lanes for cyclists as well as motorists.    A poorly-designed or -constructed bike lane helps no one and, if anything, only fuels anger and resentments between motorists and cyclists.
 

She Rides In Australia

A friend expressed consternation that today I cycled to Connecticut alone,  something I've done before.

I have also done that ride, and others, with friends.  But, she says, she wonders how I can ride alone.  

She is about a decade and a half older than I am and has not ridden a bike since she was a teenager.  That was typical for the place and time in which she grew up.  She says she'd thought about riding again but had difficulty finding other riders, particularly female ones.

"And the roads are so dangerous.  Don't you worry?"

I explained, as I've explained before, that I am careful but that cycling, while it has its risks, is really no more dangerous than any number of other things people do.  "To tell you the truth, I feel less safe crossing some streets--especially Queens and Northern Boulevards--as a pedestrian than I feel when I'm biking," I elaborated.

Her fear is a common one. In fact, a recent study shows that it's the main reason why women don't ride bikes.  To address that fear or reality, depending on one's point of view, Cycling Australia has initiated the "She Rides" program to get women to take to the same roads men ride every weekend.

Participation Coordinator Alex Bright said that while most women cycled as children, getting them back in the saddle as adults had been difficult.  In the hope of encouraging more women to ride, "We wanted to create a program that connected them with like minded women to help them get going and riding," she explained. "We wanted to provide a way to support women to get on their bikes because a lot of women feel unsafe on the road."

Members of a She Rides group in Parramatta, New South Wales

That program includes an eight-week course that now operates in 46 locations throughout Australia.  Charlene Bordley has coached three She Rides programs and says that while physical fitness is a benefit of riding, "it's also about mental fitness."  Riding for the first time in their adult lives--or, in some cases, for the first time in their lives, "is freedom for some people," she said.

Bordley, Bright and others involved with the program are doing something right:  Ninety percent of the women who have participated say they are more likely to ride on bike lanes or quiet roads than when they started, while 78 percent are more likely to ride busy streets.  

Manju Prajesh is one of those participants.  Even today, she still can't believe she now has the confidence to ride on the road.  "We have totally lost our fear," she says.

 

The World's Worst Place To Ride...And He Would Know

I started reading Bicycling! magazine as a teenager in the mid-1970s.  I came in, so to speak, for John Rakowski's around-the-world bike tour.  Every month's issue included another installment of his epic ride, whether in India or Afghanistan or South America. 

As I recall, after three years and something like 50,000 kilometers of riding, he made a list of "favorite" and "least favorite", "best" and "worst", among other categories.

The former included countries (As I recall, Spain and Thailand were among his favorites.) while the latter included food, beer and cycling conditions.

As far as I know, Thomas Andersen has not yet made such a list.  But he has declared a "worst", as in "worst place for cyclists".  That distinction, he says, belongs to Australia. He singles out Sydney for particular criticism, saying he was shocked by the regular abuse from drivers.  "Australia has wonderful people, but some just don't like cyclists," he says.

Thomas Andersen in Sydney

Andersen is following in Rakowski's tire tracks and circumventing the globe on two wheels.  He's pedaled over 30,000 miles in 25 countries and is now pedaling through Ecuador. 

"In most countries, people drive fast but are usually happy enough to give some space to a cyclist on the road," Thomas says.  "I think the worst attitude I met toward cyclists was the day I cycled into Sydney in Australia."

He believes that one reason for such hostility is the lack of infrastructure.  For example, he cites the lack of lanes. "You have them for a bit, and then a gap."  Such a lack of continuity makes it difficult for cycling to develop as a viable means of transportation, he says.

But another reason he gives is, in my opinion, far more relevant.  In Denmark, his home country, many people cycle to work and for recreation.  On the other hand, he says, he saw few cyclists in Sydney or the rest of Australia, where he cycled some 5000 kilometers.

In previous posts, I have said that having such a critical mass, if you will, of cyclists, is far more important than bike lanes or signs or anything else for improving cyclists' safety and causing the bicycle to be seen as a viable means of transportation.  More cyclists brings more awareness of cycling, as greater numbers of motorists are likely to be, or more recently have been, cyclists.

I don't recall that John Rakowski had a "worst place for cyclists" on his lists.  If he had, I wonder whether he would have agreed with Thomas Andersen.

Do They Ride Brooks Saddles?

I guess being "down under" explains why an Australian would use bottoms-up to advertise the top bike:

Embarking With A Koala

If you've been following this (or my other) blog for a while, you've probably noticed that I like to tell stories about myself.  You've also probably noticed that I like to tell stories about other people, and times and places other than my own, especially if those stories have been untold or forgotten.

That is one reason why I've written posts about (or in which I mention)  Beryl Berton, Nancy Burghart, Sue Novara, Rebecca Twigg, Jeannie Longo, Paola Pezzo and other prominent female cyclists.

And, yes, this post will be about another. But it will also touch upon a topic--a nation and culture, really--I've never mentioned:  Australia.  This omission does not come from any sort of bias; it has mainly to do with the fact that I've never been anywhere near the world's smallest continent or sixth-largest country, depending on how you look at it.

Nearly everything I know about it comes from reading and chance encounters with Australians in other parts of the world, including my own home town.  One of the few things I know is that the Aussie population--about a tenth of that of the US, even though the two countries are roughly the same size--includes a disproportionate number of long-distance cyclists.  That's not so surprising when you consider Australians' affinity for sports and outdoor activities and the fact that so much of the country is undeveloped.

One of those riders was someone named Billie Samuels.  I have been trying to find some information on her, to no avail. I guess I have to look in actual book (I think I can still do that) of Australian cycling history.

I learned of her only through stumbling over the photos I've included here.  Whoever she is, I want to know more because, hey, how could you not want to learn about someone who starts a ride from Sydney to Melbourne with a koala mascot on her handlebars?

(The photos in this post come from Vintage Everyday.

Phil Anderson's Five Stars

I was trawling eBay for a small part when I came across this:

 In spite of its bright blue paint (which, actually, I like), the bike seemed, somehow, almost quintessentially British.  I emphasize the "almost".

While its lugwork and fork crown remind me of at least a couple of old-time builders in Albion, this bike comes from the other end of the world.  

Yes, it's Australian.  The frame--the top-of-the line "Five Star",  was built in 1950 by Malvern Star.  They're still building bikes today and, in fact, someone named Phil Anderson still rides one.  Who is he?, you ask.  He's just the first Australian--and non-European--to don the Yellow Jersey in the Tour de France.  He would complete le Tour 13 times from 1981 to 1994 and finish as high as fifth (in 1982 and 1985).

What really caught my eye about the bike in the photo, though, was its headtube:

Five stars.  Where have you ever seen a head badge like it?