A Bike And A Bike Lane Done Right

Today I'm going to talk about a bike and a bike lane.

First, what I rode for three days in Paris. I'd already mentioned it in an earlier post.  I wanted to come back to it because it's unlike any other rental bike--or any other bike, period--I've ridden.

It's like the other bikes that comprise Paris a Velo's current rental fleet.  When I availed myself to their services four years ago, the bike I rode--which, again, was like the others in their rental fleet at the time--was a kind of hybrid/city bike.  It wasn't made for fast riding, but it sucked up abuse and neglect pretty well.

The same could be said, perhaps even more so, for the bike I rode on this trip.  Victor assured me that the tires were "flat resistant" and that the bike shouldn't give me trouble. He was right on both counts.  What I found interesting about this machine, though, were its construction and its ride.

About its build: While it, not surprisingly, doesn't have the fine filet-brazing of a constructeur bike, it did incorporate at least one principle of those old masters: structural integrity.  The rear rack is of a piece with the frame, and the front end is braced for strength.  One result is a surprisingly stable ride given the small wheels.

Those wheels, perhaps not surprisingly, got me to thinking about the one small-wheeled bike I owned and rode for any period of time:  a Dahon Vitesse.  (I briefly owned an Italian folding bike that I found on a curbside and "flipped" a few days later.)  One major difference, of course, is that the Paris a Velo bike doesn't fold.  That might be the reason why the PV bike felt so much more stable and was unexpectedly easy to accelerate.

(Oh, and I want to add that Victor included a really nice rain cape with the rental. I was tempted to ask whether I could buy it from him.)

One of the first places where I rode it was a bike lane along the Seine, toward the Notre Dame.  Too often, when I see new bike lanes in the US, I ask, "Why did they bother?"  If a lane isn't demonstrably safer than riding in traffic, there simply is no point to it.  Whoever designed that lane must have understood as much:  It's physically separated from the roadway by barriers that motor vehicles can't easily cross.  Better yet, there's plenty of room for cyclists traveling in both directions.  Too often--as with the Crescent Street lane in front of my apartment--a cyclist coming from the opposite direction risks a head-on collision or forces one cyclist to veer into traffic traveling in the opposite direction. (Crescent is a one-way street.)

So...while there might not be one "right" way to do a bike lane or city rental bike, I am happy to have experienced both done right.

It Wasn't Age After All!

 The other day, I mentioned that I didn't post during the last few days of my latest Paris trip because my full days ended with my getting back to my hotel in the wee hours of morning and collapsing onto the bed.  I intimated that, perhaps, age was catching up with me because I felt tired, if in good ways, after the sorts of activities--visiting museums and friends and, of course, walking and cycling--that also comprised previous trips.  

Well, now I know (or, at least, think I know) the real cause of my fatigue.  You might think that I am in denial and want to continue calling this blog "Midlife Cycling."  I assure you that's not the case.  Also, I tend not to suffer from "jet lag" for very long, so that's not a reason why I have become an immobile object or, if I want to put a positive spin on it, Marlee's bed.

What seemed like a slight cold during my time with Alec and Michele on Thursday devolved into bouts of coughing and sneezing on the flight home and, now, my respiratory system turning into something the Department of Environmental Protection might condemn.

Oh well.  I've gone from lunches of confit de canard with Jay and Isabelle  and civet de cerf with Alec and Michele to slurping down gallons of water, juice, chicken broth, alone, wrapped in a blanket.  That means, of course, that I haven't ridden since I've come home to colder, blustier (Is that a word?) weather than I experienced in Paris.

So I am in my apartment with Marlee, my books and my bikes.  About the latter--here's what I rode after returning the bike I borrowed:

Turns out, Paris a Velo  (formerly known as Paris Velo, C'est Sympa) was open after all!  The proprietor, Victor, explained that the pandemic boosted demand for his bikes and, therefore, he's operated year-round ever since.  When I last rented one of his bikes four years ago (almost to the week!), he made a special trip into the shop for me and one other customer who'd made a reservation. That might be the reason why he remembered me, "d'une monde different."

The bike I rode was different, too:

in contrast to the more conventional hybrid/city bike I rode four years ago.  More about that later.