Red Cross + FIVE = Help For Homebound Italians

What does FIVE have in common with one of America's most famous writers?

It's not the number of novels said writer published.  You may have surmised as much because FIVE is capitalized.  

In fact, FIVE stands for Fabbrica Italiana Veicoli Elettrici, or the association of Italian Electric Vehicle Manufacturers.  (In Italian, FIVE is pronounced "fee-vay.")  They have been supplying electric bikes for a project called "Tempo della Gentilezza" ("Time for Kindness"), which delivers--in a sustainable "green" way-- essential services and goods to homebound elderly and immunodeficient people.  

Tempo della Gentilezza is a Red Cross project.  That brings me to my connection with a famous American writer.  A Farewell to Arms is based on its author's experience driving a Red Cross ambulance for the Italian Army during World War I.

We don't hear much about the vehicle Ernest Hemingway piloted.  I assume, perhaps wrongly, that it was made in Italy, like the e-bikes used in the Tempo project.  Now, I know Hemingway was a cyclist (and an avid bicycle racing fan), but I have to admit it's a bit of a stretch to picture him on an eBike.  Or is it? 

Another Kind Of Justice

 The second Senate impeachment trial continues today.  But I am going to talk about another kind of justice:  the poetic kind.

One fine day in 2017, Juli Briskman rode her bike in Sterling, Virginia.  Minivans passed beside her.  That in itself is not unusual. Even the fact that they were black would not have been noteworthy, especially given the proximity of Ms. Briskman's route to the nation's capital city.

But she knew who was in one of those vehicles:  the owner of the nearby golf course. She made a gesture toward him because she knew he probably wouldn't have heard what she might have said:  Truck Fump.

All right, that's an anagram of what she could have said.  So you know what kind of gesture she made.  Who among us has not made it at motorists who cut us off or did other things to endanger us?

Normally, such an incident would go unnoticed.  But someone posted it, and it went viral.  Someone brought it to the attention of her employer--a government contracting firm.  As a result, she lost her job as a marketing executive because her bosses decided she'd violated the company's code of conducted.

Now, there are all kinds of ways people deal with the loss of their jobs.  They depend mainly on the fired employee's circumstances and temperament:  They can look for another job, sue, go into business for themselves, go back to school or pursue something they've always wanted to do, among other things.

Juli Briskman decided to run for office.

In November, she won a seat in the Algnonkian District of the Loudon County Board of Supervisors.  Sworn in last month, her new job includes overseeing leisure facilities.  

In that capacity, she's already helped to build bicycle lanes in her district.  Oh, and she's worked to remove a Confederate monument and release funds for COVID-19 relief.

And she's a Democrat.

Hmm...a Democrat working to build bike lanes and remove Confederate monuments--and release funds for COVID-19 relief.  In just a few weeks, she's managed to accomplish three things Mango Mussolini would hate.  It sounds like poetic justice to me.

Photos in this post by Brendan Smialowski, from Getty Images.

Acceptable Behavior During A Pandemic

As of today, the two countries with the most COVID-19 cases are...the United States and the United Kingdom.

Does that mean speaking English is a risk factor?*

Seriously, as some countries relax their restrictions and others impose new ones (or re-impose ones they'd just struck down), people debate about what constitutes acceptable public behavior during the pandemic.

Thankfully, cycling not been prohibited here in New York or, to my knowledge, any place else in the United States besides Puerto Rico.  Really, as long as we keep our "social distance" (two meters or 6 feet) and don't spit or fling our sweat, we really don't pose any more a risk than, say, someone walking a dog or pushing a shopping cart full of toilet paper.  

On the other hand, what's allowed in public parks or beaches--if they're open--varies widely.  One of the big debates in places like Florida seems to be whether sunbathing should be allowed. When restrictions were imposed here in the Big Apple, they included a prohibition against basking in solar refulgence.  At the time, they seemed academic because, well, March weather in the Rockaways is, shall we say, a bit different from conditions that prevail in Ormond Beach.  

Actually, our winter was quite mild right up to the end, with scarcely any snow.  Some of us have joked that just we can't tell one day from another, thanks to lockdowns, we also can't distinguish one season from the next.  

So how do you know whether or not to sunbathe, if it's allowed?

This woman seems not to care.  The funny thing is that while some people weren't keeping their social distance from each other, I am the only one who broke that protocol with this sunbather.

To be fair, she's reposing in an intersection near Court Square in Long Island City.  Not many people walk by and because it's near entrance ramps for the 59th Street Bridge and the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, cars don't stop or slow down.  I think only I, in the course of yesterday's ride, stopped to see her.

She wasn't worried:  She knew I wouldn't admonish her for sunbathing--or social distance.  Perhaps she knows that cyclists aren't judgmental, except toward other cyclists who aren't wearing or riding what they "should".

At the end of my ride, I met with someone who prefers the warmth of a human body to that of the sun.

*--I ask this question in jest, of course!

They're Not Free To Celebrate Their Freedom

Seventy-five years ago today, the United States and its European allies accepted Nazi Germany's unconditional surrender of its armed forces.  

Citizens in countries such as France, Belgium, and the Netherlands could, for the first time in years, consider themselves free of a brutal occupation in which many of their friends, neighbors, colleagues--and, in many cases, relatives--were murdered or disappeared.  

As this is the 75th anniversary, few people who participated in combat, or who supported those, in or out of uniform, who participated in supporting the soldiers, sailors and airmen, or in other forms of resistance.  Even those who were young children during that time and remember various privations are not young.  So, this probably would have been the last time significant numbers of people who experienced the occupations in any way, as foes or allies, could or would celebrate in a major way.  

Notice that I used conditional tenses in my previous sentence.  Under other circumstances, thousands of people surely would have participated in ceremonies and other commemorations. Today, however, much of Europe remains under COVID-19 induced lockdowns.  In some countries, people can't even go for a bike ride or a walk and must show an official document granting them permission to go to grocery stores, pharmacies and other enterprises deemed as essential.

So, here is one of many sad ironies of the situation:  On a day when people would have been celebrating their liberation from one kind or tyranny, they are now living under another.  

And, the enforced curfews and other restrictions of Nazi invasions and occupations changed life in ways that still affect people today.  For example, the Paris Metro closes from 1 am to 5 am every day.  That schedule was imposed on the city during its occupation.  So it remains today.  In an odd parallel, for the first time in its history, the New York City subway system is  not operating 24/7.  It is now closed every day from 1 to 5 am--as a result of what has been called our "invisible invader."

Another parallel between the Nazi occupations and the COVID-19 pandemic is that thinking "out of the box" with the available facts is needed to beat back the terror.  The Nazis introduced the Blitzkreig, but French and other military strategists continued to strategize in the ways they'd done, or learned, before.  Once they and their allies understood that the Nazis were sending "lightning strikes" rather than masses of soldiers, they started to win battles.  Likewise, health care professionals, scientists and policy makers--at least the ones who don't placate political patrons--know that while their knowledge and data will inform their decisions, those decisions cannot always be made in the same ways because COVID-19 is not behaving in the same ways as earlier afflicitons.

I just hope that my friends in France and the wonderful people I met in other countries will soon be able to celebrate in the way they deserve (Xoom just doesn't cut it!)--perhaps with a bike ride.

Cycle Y Corona ?

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Senora Provina, my old Spanish teacher might be appalled. Aprendiste algo en mi clase?

She certainly would wonder what kinds of lessons we’re learning from the COVID pandemic.  In years past, this day was an occasion for revelry, bright colors, spicy foods and “Cinco de Cycle” or “Cycle de Mayo” bike rides.  

To my knowledge, none of those rides are running today.  Your favorite Mexican restaurant, if it’s open, is doing only take-out or delivery —and may have a limited menu selection. 

I am going for a ride.  Afterward, I think I’ll order something from Los Portales. I’ve been going to them since the day about fifteen years ago when I was riding by and saw it full of Mexican families.  I stopped in and got “hooked.”

Of course, the question is:  What to drink?  I wonder how many people are going to drink Corona  today?

WHO Do you Listen To?

It wasn't a surprise because it was.

One could say that about many things Donald Trump has done.   He says and does things almost no-one could have anticipated, and they therefore come as a shock.  But they don't surprise us because the Cheeto In Chief has a history of doing things we wouldn't expect of anyone else.

An example is his decision to cut US funding to the World Health Organization.  I don't think even Herbert Hoover, the last American president who could claim to be an isolationist, would have done such a thing had the WHO existed at that time.  But Trump, at least since he started the campaign that led to his election, has voiced--and acted with-- disdain for anything that fosters American cooperation with the rest of the world. An example was his pulling the US out of the Paris Climate agreement.

So, if he hadn't already cut off America's financial contribution to the WHO--just as the world is in the COVID-19 pandemic--the organization's latest recommendation might have roiled him enough to hold up the money.

"Whenever feasible, consider riding bicycles or walking," the organization recommends.  These activities provide "physical distancing while helping to meet the minimum requirement for daily physical activity, which may be more difficult due to increased teleworking, and limited access to sport and other recreational activities."

Now, the fact that the WHO's recommendations are based on science and logic would be troubling enough for Trump. His ire, though, would be compounded by long-standing hatred of bicycles and bicyclists, to which I've alluded in this blog.

To be fair, there was a brief period when he didn't hold--or at least express--disdain for anything without a motor and with fewer than four wheels.  He took the Tour DuPont, then on the verge of becoming one of America's, and possibly the world's, major races and re-branded it as the Tour de Trump.  This was around the time Greg LeMond was winning the Tour de France, and bike racing seemed ready to take its place as one of this country's major sports.  In brief, he saw it as a business opportunity.

He later returned to his velo-phobia, culminated with his mocking of John Kerry when he got into a bike accident.  Imagine if that had happened now--just as the WHO is recommending cycling as a means of transportation and recreation during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Around The World--Until COVID-19 Struck

I'd been thinking about two holidays this summer.  One would have been a trip to a faraway place, like the ones I've taken to Greece, Southeast Asia, Italy and France during the past few summers.  The other would have been a bike tour that would have taken me out of this city but would have kept me, probably in the United States, definitely in North America.

In fact, I was ready to book the "exotic" trip a few weeks ago.  But, for whatever reasons, I decided to "sleep on it."

The next day, I read that one of the places I'd thought about visiting was under lockdown, and a cruise boat was quarantined in the area.  And then the travel restrictions spread across regions, countries and even oceans.

Even if everything goes back to "normal," I don't think I'll be taking the "exotic" trip this year.  For one thing, I can't count on travel restrictions being lifted or flights being restored. Also, I have to admit, I might be a bit leery of having to spend hours in enclosed spaces.

Marcia van der Meer in the Los Angeles International Airport

The bike trip may still be possible.  At least, that's what I think--or hope.  But I'm not counting on taking that trek, either, especially after reading about Marcia van der Meer and Bas Baan.

More than a year ago, Ms. van der Meer embarked on a round-the-world bicycle tour from her native Netherlands.  She crossed the Atlantic in a cargo ship, rode the length of South America and hitchiked from island to island in the Caribbean with American sailors before she arrived in Miami.  There, she met Mr. Baan and set out across the United States. 

Somewhere in the middle of their cross-country ride, they first heard about COVID-19.  "We thought, 'Ah, it's some kind of disease over there in China, you know," van der Meer recalls.  

But, as they rode across the western US, one part of the world--and the US--locked down.  Still, they thought that once they got to Los Angeles, they'd continue their journey to Japan.  Then the Land of the Rising Sun closed its borders to nonessential travel from the US and other places, and van der Meer's travel visa was about to expire.

Baan and van der Meer flew back to the Netherlands. For both of them, cutting their trip short was more than a disappointment.  "This is the culmination of years-long dreams, savings, banking time off and putting aside money," Baan explained. "I think it's a dream deferred."

Marcia van der Meer and Bas Baan, on their way back to the Netherlands.

For van der Meer, it's not only a "dream deferred" or lost savings:  Aborting her trip could also mean cutting her income considerably.  "I write books, I do presentations in theatres and everything afterward when I come home," she says. "If I cannot finish my trip, I don't know what will happen to my income." 

Still, she says, "I will do it."  She plans to "chill for a couple of years and "I will do another attempt to go around the world by bicycle."  

Will It Take A Virus To Bring Us Our Due?

During any crisis, actual and self-styled pundits weigh in about how said crisis will change some aspect of our culture, society or economy.

In that sense, the COVID-19 pandemic has been no different.  Wherever I tune, click or listen, someone is talking about how shutdowns and lockdowns will forever change the ways we live, work, eat, shop--and, yes, even make love.

Of course, it will be a while before we know which prognosticators are correct.  I hope that at least one of their forecasts comes true.  Specifically, it's one that appears in Tree Hugger.

That title--and the fact that I'm talking about it--is a giveaway that it has something to do with bicycles.  The opening line of Lloyd Alter's article sums it up:  They are not toys, they are transportation, and they can be a big help in this crisis.

Alter, however, is not merely making a prediction or expressing a hope.  Rather, he describes the way the definition of an "essential business" has evolved during the crisis.  He mentions that when Governor Andrew Cuomo declared a shutdown of "non-essential" businesses in New York State, he included bicycle shops--but not auto-related enterprises--in that category.  London Breed made a similar pronouncement when she ordred a lockdown in San Francisco, where she is the Mayor.  After pressure from folks like me, she and Cuomo revised their definition of "essential" businesses to include bike shops.  Not only is cycling one of the few outdoor activities in which one can engage in a dense urban area while keeping a safe "social distance", some essential workers, like food deliverers, use them to perform their jobs while others, like hospital employees, are using them to get to their jobs as trains and buses become more crowded due to service cutbacks.

As Alter points out, this crisis might finally show that bicycles aren't just a viable alternative to other forms of transportation; they should be considered integral parts of transportation planning.  Even after the virus is "defeated," many people will be reluctant to return to commuting in trains, buses or other shared vehicles.

That said, as I mentioned the other day, some shops (including one of my favorites) have chosen to remain closed, or to see customers only by appointment.  I understand their decision, just as I am happy that some shops have remained open.

Vital But Still Closed

The other day, Hal Ruzal and I exchanged text messages and e-mails.  He is a co-founder and former chief mechanic of Bicycle Habitat.  He also turned me on to Mercian bikes.

Now he’s living in New Mexico.  He told me he’s riding every    day but “there’s nowhere to go at night.”  That’s not a surprise, given that the same situation pertains here in New York, which has more restaurants, bars, clubs and the like than just about anyplace else on Earth.

Anyway, I’d shared that Habitat is closed, even though bike shops are permitted to remain open.  He said Charlie, the owner, was making a “wise move.”  I agreed, though I am sad about it.  

Bike shops are vital now because cycling is one of the few ways one can go to work—or simply get out—while maintaining “social distance.”  On the other hand, some shops—such as Habitat’s Chelsea branch, are tight spaces in which it would be difficult, if not impossible, to accommodate more than one or two customers at a time, especially if they’re bringing bikes in for repairs or overhauls.

Also, another characteristic Habitat Chelsea shares with other shops—including the ones in which I worked—is that mechanic’s areas are extremely tight:  Mechanics, as often as not, work at arm’s length, or less, from each other.

In that sense, Habitat and other bike shops are like other vital businesses such as grocery stores:  Their customers can distance themselves from each other, but their workers can’t.

A Ride Through Change

Whenever I look, wherever I tune in, someone is writing or talking about how the COVID-19 epidemic is changing, or will or could change, some aspect of the world.  

As an example, many people who still have jobs are working online.  It's hard not to imagine that some of those jobs will permanently shift online, or become hybrids, if you will.  On the other hand, many people who have lost their jobs have to wonder whether their jobs--or their employers--will return.


One benefit of this crisis, if you will, is that some people are starting to see the real inequities in the health care system. I am talking, of course, about the people who lost their insurance or never had it in the first place. I also mean that the epidemic is highlighting how people are treated differently by the health care insurers and providers based on their gender, race or other factors.  

(Also, actual and would-be authoritarians are using the crisis for their own ends.  Donald Trump is trying to do this; he's had little success--thankfully--because of the limited powers of the US presidency and his own ineptitude.  But other leaders have found ways to use the crisis to disenfranchise or oppress groups of people, as Viktor Orban of Hungary did the other day when he used the epidemic as a pretext for ending legal recognition of transgender people.)

The virus is indeed changing the world.  I find myself thinking about that as I ride, and see change all around me.

As I rode through East Harlem, I see the embers of a culture that once burned bright but has flickered away:

The area of East Harlem east of Third Avenue once held one of this city's--and nation's--largest Italian-American communities.  I must say it's odd, to say the least, to see an engraved sign for an Italian commercial bank over a 7-11.  Then again, it's still odd for me to see a 7-11 in a dense urban neighborhood.

I saw another sign of change a bit earlier, after I crossed the High Bridge from the Bronx into Manhattan and followed a path to a bluff.

That building in the distance, on the right--or what it housed--inspired one of the most famous films of the past 40 years.  It also helped to saddle the Bronx with a reputation its leaders are trying to shed.

Inside those walls was the Four-Four:  the 44th Precinct of the New York Police Department.  Its nickname became the title of the movie I've mentioned:  Fort Apache.  

While it's hardly an elite part of town, the neighborhood of the Four-Four isn't exactly the one in Fort Apache, The South Bronx.  Likewise, East Harlem isn't Little Italy, Uptown, and won't be what it is today for very long--whether or not COVID-19 has anything to do with it.

What will I see on a future ride?

The News Isn't A Joke, But....

This season, no one has been disqualified from a bike race because of a drug violation.

All right, that's not quite an April Fool's joke.  After all, races have been cancelled or postponed because of the COVID-19 epidemic.

We all hope it ends soon. But now the CDC is worried because, as the weather warms up, deer ticks will come out.  Some people will get Corona with Lyme!

Taking To--Or Over--The Street

Every time an elected official takes to the airwaves, I fear the worst, even if I know what they're about to say might be for the best.  I know the virus has to be stopped, but I worry that we might not be allowed out of our apartments, ever again.  

(Then again, if they confine us, they might have to enact a permanent rent freeze--or declare that housing is a human right and give it to us for free.)

So far, we still can go outside, as long as we keep our distance from each other.  Now the city is doing something that, at first glance, seems counterintuitive:  It's closing off some streets to traffic.  It makes sense when you realize that pedestrians, cyclists and all other kinds of non-motorized travelers have free reign over the street.  The idea, apparently, is to get people outside but still offer them space.

I like it.  If anything, I wouldn't mind if this street closure were extended:

It's a stretch of 34th Avenue in Jackson Heights, about 5 kilometers from where I live. 

It's also a kilometer, if that, from LaGuardia Airport.  While I enjoyed the nearly-empty street, it was a bit odd to ride  through that part of town without seeing a plane overhead. 

You Know The Drill

So why am I writing a post about drillium when the world is going to hell in a handbasket?

Well, I could get cute (as if I could, at my age) and say that COVID-19 is poking holes--or exposing them--in the structures of our societies.  Or some such thing.

But, truthfully, I'm writing this post because I can't say anything you haven't heard about the corona virus epidemic--and because somebody sent me this picture:

Apparently, someone in Germany is selling that stem on eBay.  Don't worry:  I'm not going to buy it.  It caught my notice because a stem is one component I would never think of drilling.  I've seen fluted, milled and pantographed goosenecks.  But I can't remember the last time I saw a drilled-out stem.

Mind you, I'm not anti-drillium.  In fact, I've seen some lovely pieces, including this Stronglight crankset:

But sometimes folks get silly with their drills (Hmm..."silly with their drills"...such an odd phrase).  You really have to wonder what purpose saving a couple of grams actually serves.

Then again, how many people actually believed that it was about function or performance? 

Vital, But Closed

Are bicycle shops "essential" businesses?

I imagine that you, or anyone else reading this blog, would answer "Of course!"  And I would agree with you.

Apparently, New York City officials as well as their peers in San Francisco and some other cities have listened to us:  They have included bike shops as "vital" because, as we argued, some of us normally use our bikes for transportation, while others are using them because of their fears about taking trains and buses, as well as cutbacks in service.

Even some non-cyclists agree that bike shops should be allowed to stay open during the COVID-19 ("coronavius") outbreak.  After all, gas stations and auto repair shops are still operating because some people are driving--and to keep ambulances and other emergency vehicles running.

Notions about what is "essential" aren't always so clear-cut. A candy factory is still operating because anything having to do with food is considered "essential."  On the other hand,  hairdressing and nail salons aren't.  I stupidly put off a styling, so I'm facing weeks, possibly months, of "bad hair days."  Of course, that's a good reason to keep on cycling-Still, I understand why hairdressers', barbers' and nail finishers' shops are closed:  I don't know of anyone with arms long enough to cut or color the hair or nails of someone sitting six feet (two meters) away.  I also understand why other businesses aren't operating:  there isn't enough business or their workers can't, or won't come in.

That last category includes a longtime favorite of mine, Bicycle Habitat. Even after a surge of repairs, tuneups and new bike sales, it's closing for a week.  Charlie, the owner, says it's a matter of protecting himself (He's in the high-risk age group), family and customers as well as doing right by the community in general.  I also imagine that it's difficult to enforce "social distancing" in the confines of a bike shop.  In his Chelsea shop, it probably means allowing no more than two customers in at a time. 

Ironically, bicycling--at least solo--is one of the best ways to get outdoor exercise while still keeping a safe distance from others in an urban environment.

RIding Solo--In More Ways Than One

When I wrote my previous post, I was worried--about a lockdown, and other things. I'd heard that in Puerto Rico, people aren't allowed to leave their homes for just about any reason.  Even taking a walk, cycling or skating alone are out of the question.  Italy has enacted similar restrictions.  I wondered whether I wouldn't be able to ride for weeks, even months, just as the season is beginning.

So, the other day, I made it a point to take a long ride--to Connecticut. On Sundays, Greenwich Avenue in Greenwich teems with strollers and shoppers, and the street is lined with parked cars.  But, from the Greenwich Common, I saw this:

and this:

Arielle, my trusty Mercian Audax, isn't accustomed to such isolation.  She could have been forgiven for wondering whether I took her on a trail instead of a street.

Speaking of streets, here was the view down University Avenue in the Bronx at 2 o'clock this afternoon:

Mind you, on the right, that's an entrance to the Cross-Bronx Expressway--the gateway to upper Manhattan and the George Washington Bridge.

Of course, I didn't mind having to contend with so little traffic, although it seemed almost surreal.  Still, I''d be happy if some of the cars and trucks didn't return after the epidemic--as long as their drivers survive.  I don't extend any bad wishes to people.

While we're on the subject of people:  There is a calm, if not a quiet, I haven't seen since the days just after 9/11.  Sometimes people eye each other warily, even suspiciously--Is that person sick?--but complete strangers are telling each other, and me, to be safe.  

And I want you, dear readers, to be well and safe--and to ride, as often and much as you can!

Can I Ride Tomorrow?

For the past week, I haven't gone to the college.  Like many other educators, I am working online.  

While it's been interesting as a learning experience, I can't say I like it.  So much of the work I do with my students is driven by questions and discussions that, as best as I can tell, arise from the interactions between us.

Also, I miss the ride into, and from, the college.  Under normal circumstances, not having to go to the workplace for a while is relaxing, even if I am doing work to prepare for my (and my students') return.  But now I am home because circumstances beyond my control are spiraling out of control. Or so it seems.

I managed to quell my anxiety yesterday, when I rode to Connecticut, and the other day, when I took a ramble through parts of Queens and Brooklyn to the South Shore.  Riding felt great, and allowed me to have a couple of good nights' sleep.  I must say, though, that in their way, the rides had a surreal quality:  On weekday afternoons, major streets like Utica Avenue in Brooklyn, Boston Post Road (a.k.a. US 1) in Westchester County and Greenwich Avenue in Connecticut were almost as free of motor vehicle traffic as some trails normally are!

And, say what you will about Daylight Savings Time, I liked that I was able to start my ride to Connecticut after the stroke of noon--after I'd finished the work I needed to do--and get home before dark.  

But I didn't ride today, in part because it rained pretty heavily this morning and early in the afternoon, and I just decided to get more work done.  I'm just hoping to have some time to ride tomorrow, and over the weekend.  

You see, I've heard about the shelter-in-place orders in China, much of Europe, and the San Francisco Bay area. Mayor Bill de Blasio wants to do the same here, though Governor Andrew Cuomo says he can't:  Only the state can issue such an order, he explains.

I hope he's right.  Or, at least, I hope that the conditions of the lockdown aren't as dire as I've heard.  Early reports said that people in San Francisco couldn't even go for a walk (unless it's to go to work at a "vital" job, a doctor's appointment or to buy food or medicine) or  bike ride, but I've since read dispatches saying they can ride or walk solo, as long as they keep their distance from others.

If anything, if we're riding, even in small groups, I should think we're less of a danger to ourselves and others than people who are riding subways or other mass transit--or taxis or Ubers.  I can't think of any time when I've ridden solo and come closer than three meters (about 10 feet) from another person.  And, in small group rides, we're usually at least a few feet apart.

Plus, we, as cyclists, are healthier than most people.  I've read and heard the stories about "gym rats" who still got sick with the coronavirus, but from what I understand, getting exercise and engaging in other healthy practices (All right, I just ate a San Giuseppe pastry!) are at less risk of getting just about any illness and, if we do get sick, have a better chance of recovering--and not spreading our illnesses to others.

Spring officially begins at just before midnight.  There is hope, I guess.