A “Guerilla” Bike Share

If you’ve ridden a bike from a share network like Citibike in my hometown of New York, you probably retrieved the bike from a dock by clicking an app or QR code. At least, that’s what I’ve done the few times I’ve ridden such a bike.

The earliest official share programs—like the one started in La Rochelle, France half a century ago (and still running to this day) could not, of course, have operated in such a way because we didn’t have portable phones, “smart” or otherwise, and the technological networks didn’t exist. So, I imagine, operating the share system must have been more labor intensive, and its bikes more difficult to keep track of, than its current iteration.

In my previous paragraph, I wrote that La Rochelle can lay claim to the first “official” bike share program. That is to say, it was the first to be organized and sanctioned by a city or other government. The idea of bikes publicly available to anyone who wants to ride them predates La Rochelle’s program by a decade or so:  During the mid-1960s, anarchists took abandoned bicycles, painted them white and left the Witte Fietsen on the streets of Amsterdam for anyone who wanted to ride them.

It seems that the spirit of that “Dutch treat,” if you will, has been revived in Montclair, New Jersey, only 33 kilometers (21 miles) or so from my apartment.

“Andy,” who would not give his full name, found a few bikes that were being thrown away.  He took them home, repaired them and collected more bikes. He soon had a full garage. 

One day, as he relates, he was talking to a co-worker who said getting to the bus he takes to work was ‘challenging.” “Andy”offered him one of the bikes, explaining that he could lock the bike up before he boarded the bus and hop back on it after returning.

A “Guerilla” bike in front of the Montclair Public Library.

So was the Montclair Guerilla Bike Share program born. It takes bikes from the trash, clean-outs and donors, makes them rideable and leaves them in public spaces where people can unlock them with QR codes or by visiting the website. After riding it, you can lock it in a public place for someone else to unlock it.

“Andy” says he’s improved the stickers and other markings to make them easier to find. He’s also installed trackers on them, which helps to ensure that they’re not stolen and makes it easier to check on their conditions.

I am sure he knows about Citibike and other institutionalized bike-share programs. But I wonder whether he knew anything about the anarchists in Amsterdam who were leaving bikes on that city’s streets a decade before he was born.

Eric Boehlert's Last Ride

 With his intense, knowing face,  shock of hair at the top of his head and focused eyes behind black-framed glasses, he looked like a combination of a philosopher, Indigenous warrior, surgeon and professor.  

He pretty much had to be all of those things to do what he became known for.  Being a cyclist also helped, I'm sure.  He biked around his hometown, where he "loved living," according to his wife and, she added, wore "protective clothing" and used lights when he rode at night.  

I can well understand why he loved living in Montclair, New Jersey:  It's about 25 miles from New York, my hometown, and has anything one would like about a city and a college town:  cafes, galleries and an active cycling community, of which he was a part.

Note that I am talking about him in the past tense.  On Monday night, he met his end while out for an evening ride.  In one way, his ending was like that of too many cyclists in the Garden State, and elsewhere in the United States:  He was struck by a motorized vehicle.  But said vehicle wasn't a car, bus or truck:  It was a New Jersey Transit commuter train that many of his fellow town residents take to and from New York or Newark.

I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd written or otherwise called attention to some hazard or another for cyclists or pedestrians, or for the need to provide the education and infrastructure that would make those modes of transportation and recreation safer and more enticing as an alternative to driving.  I say that because he spent so much of his life exposing all sorts of hazards and, more important, what brings them into, and continues their, existence.

If your go-to source of (mis)information is Faux, I mean, Fox News, or even if you take everything printed in mainstream media (which, of course, does not include this blog!) at face value, you probably were not a fan of Eric Boehlert.  While he was labeled, usually with justification, as "liberal" or "leftist," he was just as willing to take on the New York Times as OAN and even, at times, the publications for which he wrote and the programs on which he appeared. "We can't fix America if we can't fix the press" was not just a catchy sound-bite; it was his operating philosophy.

As his evening ride was part of his life, to and at the end. I, and his many fans--and fellow cyclists--extend our sympathies to his wife, Tracy Breslin and his kids, Jane and Ben.