Working In Mysterious Ways

If you have ever read Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, you might recall this:

Miss Watson she took me in the closet and prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn't make it out no way.

Now, if Twain had been writing a century and a half later, Huck might have said something like this:

Could The Insurance Capital Help Cycling Bloom In The Rosebud City?

Bicycling is good for business.

Cities large and small are discovering how this is true, and not just for bike shop owners.  Obviously, we are good for coffee shops, bakeries and such.  But we--cyclists--use most of the same products and services as everybody else.  Thus, we will patronize the same sorts of businesses.

But we are also good for business, especially in urban downtown areas and on Main Street-type shopping strips in smaller towns, in the same way that pedestrians are.  Stores in such environs--whether they sell books or craft supplies or serve babkas or craft beer--are more likely to find customers among those who walk or pedal in front of them than from drivers who pass by because they can't find a parking spot.

That, I believe, is a reason why more cities here in the US are trying to make themselves "bike friendly"--or, at least, are doing the things they believe, rightly or wrongly, will make them so.  Chambers of Commerce or Business Improvement Districts will install bike racks (good) and nudge their cities into painting bicycle lanes on the streets (sometimes not so good).  They perceive that making their shopping areas more attractive and convenient for cyclists will do more to help business than squeezing more cars into already-crowded streets could.

Apparently, some folks in Hartford, Connecticut had the same idea.

Now, when most people think of Hartford, the insurance industry comes to mind.  It still is known as "The Insurance Capital of the World", with good reason.  Those with a sense of history might recall Connecticut's state capital was also a major industrial center.  In 1850, a native named Samuel Colt invented a precision manufacturing process that enabled the mass production of revolvers--which, of course, bore his name--with interchangeable parts.  His method would be adopted by a couple of guys named Richard Gatling and John Browning who made their own firearms, and the Weed Sewing Machine company, which dominated the market at the time.

Weed would also produce the first bicycles manufactured in the United States.  Albert Pope, another Hartford native, saw British high-wheeled velocipedes at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Exposition and bought the patent rights to produce them in the US.  Since he had no manufacturing facility, he contracted Weed, who would produce everything but the tires.  Soon, production of bicycles--Columbias-- overshadowed that of sewing machines, and Hartford became one of the leading centers of bicycle-making in the US.

Lest you think that the city's energies have been devoted entirely to commerce and industry, some very creative individuals in the arts have called Hartford home.  In fact, a couple of books you may have read--A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur's Court and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn were written in a house that is today a museum dedicated to their author. (I was there once, years ago, and thought it was interesting.)  And one of America's most innovative poets, Wallace Stevens, was an executive with the Hartford Accident and Indemnity Company!

Anyway, it seems that creative thinking lives on in Hartford. For years, the city's Business Improvement District has run a "safety ambassador" program.  The "ambassadors" patrol downtown streets, acting as security escorts, providing free help to stranded motorists and acting as additional sets of eyes and ears for the police.  In May, the BID added bicycle maintenance and repair to the work done by the "ambassadors" in order to encourage bicycle commuting and assuaging some of the fears associated with it, according Jordan Polon, the BID's executive director.

Eddie Zayas, a Hartford "safety ambassador",

Ambassadors give their phone numbers to people who ask for them.  Maureen Hart was one of those people. Just a few days after getting that number, she was riding home from a concert when she got a flat.  She called that number and became one of 42 cyclists who have received roadside assistance since the program started. 

"It's such a cool service," she said.  "I know people who live in Portland and that's a really bicycle-friendly city.  They don't have anything like this.  This is amazing."

Well, you can't have bicycle-friendly cities without bicycles.  And Hartford was making them long before most people ever heard of Portland.  Now the capital of the Nutmeg State looks ready to teach The City of Roses how to make it even easier to ride in their city.

(Here's another fun fact about Hartford:  It's also home to the oldest continuously-published daily newspaper in the US.  The Hartford Courant has been in print since 1764, making it 87 years older than the New York Times--and 12 years older than the United States itself!)

Taming The Bicycle

From High Wheel Bicycle

On my bicycle, I've raced, toured, commuted and delivered pizzas, books, payroll checks, blueprints, contracts, machine parts and a few packages with "don't ask don't tell" policies, if you know what I mean.


I've thumped along potholed city streets, rumbled down rocky hills, rolled along county roads and routes departmantles past fields, castles, cathedrals and through forests and villages. I've woven my way through pacelines and drafted riders I would pass and others who would ride in races, and in places, I have never seen.   I've cycled over ice and through fire.  (I'm not making that up!)  I've ridden alone, with friends, with lovers and after breakups.  And I've pedalled away from a person or two.

On the other hand, I've never done BMX, bicycle polo or paintball on bicycles.  And I've never ridden a high-wheeler, although I sometimes think I'd like to.  After all, my cycling ancestors did so.  They include Auguste Rodin, H.G. Wells and Mark Twain, who wrote an incomparable account of the experience.  


He tamed his bike the way he tamed just about everything else: with his wit and irony.  Really, I don't see how a cyclist can not develop at least a little bit of either quality.  

Air Conditioning

After riding, however briefly, on a hot day, it's refreshing or jarring or both to go into an air-conditioned space.

It's really odd when that air-conditioned space is a bicycle shop.  You see those shiny, new bicycles and they betray nary a hint of the sweaty cyclists who might be astride them one day.  Even the mustard-yellow Salsa and the cruiser in the color of moss look nearly as fluorescent as the store's lighting in the chilled air.

At least, when I ride to work, I am ready for the chill I will feel upon entering the building.  I teach in one of those places where they seem to turn on the air conditioning in June and leave it on, full-blast, until September.  Mark Twain once joked that the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.  A summer class in the college where I teach might've changed his mind.

Yesterday, I had both of the experiences I've just described.  I took midday ride on Tosca, my fixie, down to Battery Park.  On the way back, I stopped at Bicycle Habitat to pick up a wheel Hal built for me. This wheel has a Phil Wood front track hub, a black Mavic Open Pro rim and DT spokes. It's on the front of Tosca, which previously had a road front wheel and has a rear wheel with the same rim and spokes and a Phil Wood "flip-flop" hub with a fixed gear on one side and a freewheel (which I have yet to use) on the other side.

Then, I rode the LeTour to my class.   In between, I changed clothes:  I was wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt for my early ride.  When I rode to class,  I wore knee-length skirt and sleeveless top that's part of a twinset . When I got to the college, I put on the cardigan from the twinset.  I find that when I feel cold, I tend to feel it more around my shoulders and chest.  I felt comfortable and rather liked the little bit of chill I felt around my legs:  It's the next best thing to a breeze by the ocean.

Back when I was Professor Nick, I didn't think as much about how I was dressed when I taught.  When I taught evening classes during the summer, as I'm teaching now, I sometimes came to class in the shorts and T-shirt I wore when I rode in.  No one seemed to mind, and since neither my department chair nor any of the administrators were there in the evening, I don't think any of them knew.  If anyone complained, I probably would have heard about it.

I never rode to class in lycra.

Although there are no official dress codes at the college, I don't think I could get away with teaching in shorts and a T-shirt, much less lycra, now.  Then again, I wouldn't do it: As Professor Justine (or simply Justine),  I am more conscious of how I dress and otherwise present myself.  Some of that may simply have to do with getting older and perhaps, in some way, more conservative.  Some of the more radical feminists and queer theorists might say that I'm taking on society's feminine gender role, or some such thing. 

But I digress.  Bicycling and air conditioning seem like the opposite poles of a summer's day.  Or are they?

Hmm....If I hook up my helmet with an air conditioner, does that violate the manufacturer's warranty?  Will it be safe if I ever decide to try to break some motor-paced speed record?