Bike Biennale

Say "Biennale" to intellectual snobs like me (We're the kinds of people who tap our index fingers to our chins and say, "Interesting" when we're looking at something we don't quite understand.) and we think of an art exhibition that takes place every two years in Venice--or other exhibitions that have stolen appropriated the name.

Now there's another kind of Biennale--one for bicycle architecture.  Even for someone who's as jaded as I am has as realistic expectations as mine for bicycle infrastructure, it looks like an enlightening (no, I won't say "interesting") exhibit.  And it would be even more enlightening for most of the folks charged with planning and executing bicycle infrastructure in most places.

This Biennale, which opened in Amsterdam (where else?) the other day, features bicycle infrastructure that's recently been built as well as design proposals.  In the former category are two lanes in Limburg, Belgium I'd want to ride because they seem so other-worldly. One slices directly through a pond, so that cyclists are riding at eye level with the water. (I think now of tour buses "parting" the "Red Sea" during the Universal Studios tour.) The other rises as high as 32 feet into the canopy of a forest.  Both of those lanes are intended to entice more people to ride.  

Among the proposals is one that, if built, I would be able to experience regularly.  It would be built on an abandoned rail line in my home borough of Queens.  In its path, an "upside down bridge" would feature a community center at the base, a "floating forest" at each end of the top and bike paths along the side.

I hope that this Biennale will show not only can bike infrastructure be both practical and beautiful, but can be built in places not called Amsterdam or Copenhagen.
  

Which Is A Shadow Of Which?

Last night, I stayed late at work.  And I had an early morning class.

So, on my way home, I followed one "shadow":

across the RFK Memorial Bridge

to my home in Queens.


This morning I followed another

on Randalls Island, to the Bronx

and the early risers (or all-night workers) I teach.

Spring Fever---Now?

So...Yesterday I experienced a change of seasons--or, perhaps, climates (all right, weather) while riding my bike across a bridge.

Today I didn't experience anything like that.  I did, however, see driving habits change.  Or so it seemed.

My ride took me down Hipster Hook into Brooklyn--DUMBO, to be exact.  After stopping at Recycle a Bicycle, I pedaled up through some central Brooklyn neighborhoods up to the other end of my neighborhood and the north shore of Queens.  

It seemed that everywhere I rode--even through the quietest residential areas--I saw more traffic.  Not only that, it seemed that teenagers of all ages had taken over the roads.  They were sideswiping each other, swooping as close to pedestrians trying to cross streets and honking their horns for no apparent reason.  In short, they were driving like kids who'd just gotten their licenses--or who were going to the beach on the day after they graduated.

At least they keep their eyes on the road!

Or, perhaps, they were driving under the influence of Spring Fever.  Even though the season doesn't officially arrive for almost another month, today felt like the first Saturday of spring.  In the very young--again, of all ages--the first wave of warmth and sunshine seems to stir up their hormones or shake their brains.  

In a way, seeing their behavior was kind of funny.  (I guess I can say that because I didn't, thankfully, have any close encounters with any of them.)  Why?  Well, this evening a storm brought us wind, hard rain and, in some places, hail.  As I write this, the temperature has dropped considerably from its earlier highs, and is expected to fall further.  Tomorrow, the weather is supposed to be more or less seasonal, which will seem almost polar compared to what we've experienced during the past few days.

I have to wonder whether those drivers I saw today will calm down--or return to hibernation.

The Arc Of My Commute

Yesterday, I wrote about seeing the cherry blossoms budding on my way in to work.

Well, my ride home included a different sort of visual spectacle.  Because I was carrying a lot (and was being a bit lazy), I took the new connector bridge, which is flat, to Randall's Island, rather than the steep, zig-zaggy ramp up to the Bronx spur of the RFK Bridge.

The connector passes underneath the Hell Gate viaduct--where the Amtrak trains run--and over the Bronx Kill, which separates the rusty but still running industrial areas of the Bronx from the parklike expanses of Randall's Island.

My commute may be only ten kilometers in each direction.  But I felt as if I'd experienced a whole spectrum of color, a wide panaroma of light and forms, on my way to work and back.

Hoist On An Old Parking Meter

New York is a city full of creative people.  I would argue that the most creative of all now live in Queens.  Of course, that's not an unbiased opinion, coming from someone who has lived in Astoria for 12 years. ;-)

Our creativity extends to all sorts of things, including our bikes.  Some folks are creative in getting their bikes to work:  They install or remove all sorts of things even the most imaginative mechanics would never dream of!  Others are creative in painting, accessorizing or decorating their bikes.  

Still others are creative in how we park our bikes.  There have been times when I've locked my steed to things I never could have imagined it could be locked to.  But I don't think that even I, in all of my ingenuity (ha, ha) ever did anything like this:

How does the bike feel about being in such a compromising position?

All right, I'll restore whatever dignity it has left, being exposed to the elements and all:

This was right around the corner from my apartment.  Was I being a good neighbor in exposing this bike's plight?

Coming To A Kiosk Near Me

Citibike, New York City's bike-share program, will probably be expanded to Western Queens by the end of this year.  So says City Council member Jimmy Van Bremer, who represents the area.

In other words, it's coming to my neighborhood.  The first kiosks will probably be installed by Socrates Sculpture Park and the Noguchi Museum, which are (literally) steps apart--and, ironically, next to a Costco store.

I used to live half a block from the museum.  In the seven years I lived there (2002-2009), I noticed more and more people going to it and to Socrates.  I also noticed that increasing numbers of those people came from Europe, Japan and other parts of the world.  

Those tourists--especially those from Paris and other capitals with extensive mass transportation systems--would be surprised at how difficult it was to reach those places, in spite of their proximity to Manhattan.  Really, you can't get much closer to Manhattan without being in it.  But they're still about a mile from the nearest subway station, and on weekends, only one bus line serves them.  And, it seems, the buses run every hour.

So, Socrates and Noguchi would seem to be great places for Citibike.  Socrates is popular with cyclists, as one can bring his or her bike into the park,  touch the sculptures and installations, and enjoy a little picnic by the river.  I have done that many times.

However, for Citibike to be practical, other kiosks will need to be installed near the subway stations--unless Citibike plans to increase the 30-minute time limit (45 minutes for annual members).  Most people, especially those who are not regular cyclists, would need half an hour, or maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes just to get to or from Manhattan by bike.  Socrates and Noguchi are halfway between the Queensborough (59th Street) and RFK (Triboro) Bridges, both of which let cyclists off on the easternmost extreme of the island.  

Of course, if anyone wants to use Citibike for commuting or transportation, the things I've mentioned are even more critical.  And, of course, that begs the question of whether said commuters and errand-runners would ride the bikes into and out of Manhattan, or to the subway stations.

Don't get me wrong:  I'd be happy to see Citibike come to Queens.  I simply think that its planners have to re-think the current limitations of the program in order to make it practical, let alone enjoyable.

718

This is post #718 of Midlife Cycling.

That number just happens to be the Area Code of Queens, where I have lived for a decade.

So I thought it appropriate to make this post an homage to cycling in the Borough of Homes.

Here's an image from the Queens stretch of the Five Borough Bike Tour, which passes just a few blocks from my apartment:

Of course, I can't write a post like this without including an image from Kissena Velodrome, the "Track of Dreams".

And, pardon me if this seems immodest, but I simply had to include an image from one of my early posts:

And, finally, no Midlife Cycling post about cycling in the 718 area code would be complete without a photo in Socrates Sculpture Park--directly across the East River from Roosevelt Island and Manhattan's Upper East Side--taken by none other than Velouria (of Lovely Bicycle fame), who inspired me to start this blog in the first place:

Train Tracks To Bike Paths?

Today was one of those crisp, clear, early-fall (though the calendar still says "summer") days that just makes me want to follow roads just to see where they'll lead.

In this case, I found myself following railroad tracks.  Oh, I've passed by or over them hundreds of times before.  But, just for fun, I decided to see how much I could follow them.

This one starts at the East River, and, within about a mile, passes under the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge of disappearing-bike-lane infamy.  It continues through along Newtown Creek, through a heavily industrialized area of Queens.

However, it's possible to follow it only for very short stretches.  Some of the land adjacent to the tracks is private property (factories, garages and such) that is closed off to the public.  And there are other stretches where the only way to follow the tracks is to ride on them. I've ridden on railroad tracks before--with a mountain bike.  

Apparently, the track is owned by New York and Atlantic Railway, which provides freight service on current and former Long Island Rail Road (Yes, it's spelled as two words!) tracks and right-of-ways.  One stretch of it--from about 43rd to about 58th Streets--seems to be used, at least on occasion, as it seems to be connected to another series of tracks and it's near UPS and FedEx terminals (and the Thomas' bakery!).  But other parts, such as the spur along Flushing Avenue and 56th Street, seem not to have been used in decades.

If New York and Atlantic indeed owns all of the tracks I've shown, I wonder whether they plan to use them.  As industrialized as those areas around the tracks are, there's still not as much as there was, say, during World War II.  And much of the freight is carried by trucks rather than trains, as there are highways nearby.

So...If NY and A doesn't plan to use the tracks, I wonder whether they'd sell, or even give, them to the city or state. If they did, I think the tracks and the adjacent paths and roads would make some great bike lanes.   I think now of the lane built by the Concrete Plant Park in the Bronx; I think something on a greater scale could be done with those tracks.  The effect would be similar:  Bike lanes that traverse some interesting urban-industrial architecture that takes on a unique beauty in the light of autumn foliage.

Cyclist Fatally Doored In Queens

The stretch of Union Turnpike where a cyclist was struck and killed by a car door

What are the greatest fears of an urban cyclist?

I'd bet that many cyclist would say that getting "doored" is one of them.

It's something we all think about, particularly when we ride between traffic and the parking lane on narrow city streets.  I have been "grazed" or suffered a glancing side-blow from drivers opening their doors.

While my encounters with doors were painful, I escaped with injuries that healed with rest.  However, last night, someone on his way home from work wasn't so lucky.

A 39-year-old lighting technician whose name has not yet been released was riding eastbound on Union Turnpike, a major thoroughfare in central and  eastern Queens.  Although it's not far from where I work, I generally avoid Union Turnpike because it has the worst of two worlds:  highway traffic speeds and a parking lane where cars frequently pull in and out, or weave, as most of the Turnpike is lined with stores.  On the other hand, I can understand why he took the Turnpike, especially if he'd had a long day at work and wanted to get home quickly.  

Anyway, as he was pedaling, a driver opened his door.  The NYPD doesn't suspect any criminality on his part, probably because he remained at the scene after he realized what happened.  But even his action, and the help passerby gave the cyclist, were to no avail.  According to one eyewitness,  who said the Lord's Prayer over the victim, "The handlebar went right through his jugular" and "The blood was pouring out like a fire hydrant."  


According to Section 1214 (pdf) of New York State Vehicle And Traffic  Law, which regulates the opening and closing of vehicle doors:

No person shall open the door of a motor vehicle on the side available to moving traffic unless and until it is reasonably safe to do so, and can be done without interfering with the movement of other traffic, nor shall any person leave a door open on the side of the vehicle available to moving traffic for a period of time longer than necessary to load or unload passengers.

As police suspect no criminality on the part of the driver, they most likely believe he was acting in accordance with the above rule. I have posted it here, in case you live in New York and are involved in a "dooring" case in which you believe the driver was careless or had malicious intent.

Getting Caught Without My Raingear

Last week, I wrote a post in which I asked you, dear readers, how you decide whether or not to ride in the rain--or when the weather looks chancy.  I also asked whether you bring rain gear if there's a chance of rain.


Well, on my way home last night I felt like an utter fool.  You see, I had to Kingsborough Community College for a workshop and because I agreed to proctor an exam.


Both appointments were in the morning.  So, I anticipated leaving some time in the afternoon.  The day started off bright, sunny and a little bit cool.  The air warmed up, but the skies didn't become any less clear, during the ride--parts of which are quite pleasant.  My destination is in a part of Brooklyn called Manhattan Beach, which looks more like a town on coastal Long Island or Connecticut.  


Well, for various reasons, I ended up staying later than I'd planned.  And, by the time I was ready to leave--around 7:30--rain had begun to fall.  No, forget that.  It was as if the sea, which abuts the campus, was pouring itself over the buildings, paths and gardens.


Of course, I didn't have any rain gear with me.


I thought I could wait it out. After about half an hour, the rain let up.  Not even two minutes after I pedaled off the campus, I rode by the eponymous beach.  You can guess what happened next:  Another deluge, even harder than the one I waited out, came raining down.  The only problem was that there was no shelter.  There were no houses on that stretch, no lean-tos or even trees.  Worse, lightning started to flash all around me.


Within seconds, it seemed, my skirt, blouse and sweater were soaked.  My sandals were like completely full sponges under my feet.


I rode another couple of minutes, to a mini-plaza with a pizzeria, a coffee house and a couple of small stores.  I was about to stop there--the thought of a slice of hot pizza (at a place where I'd had good pizza on other rides)appealed to me.  But the idea of sitting someplace, soaked to my skin, did not.  Then I thought about taking the train, about half a mile away. When I got to the station, though, I realized that the train's air-conditioning might be running.  Sitting in it, in my besoaked condition, definitely would not have been a good idea.

From The Guardian (UK) Bike Blog

So, even though I knew it would take me about an hour and fifteen minutes to get home, I continued to ride.  Somewhere around Brooklyn College, in the middle of Brooklyn, the rain started to let up.  It had all but stopped by the time I crossed the Pulaski Bridge from Greenpoint into Queens.  From there, it's only a few minutes to my apartment.  I stopped at a greengrocer:  the boxes of strawberries and the piles of cherries (both red Bings and yellowish Queen Annes, which taste like a cross between a sweet cherry and a nectarine) in their bins were even more appealing than the pizza had been an hour earlier.  So, after filling my Carradice Nelson Longflap with the luscious fruits, I pedaled home.


The most interesting thing--to me, anyway--was that, except for my sandals, I was dry.  And so was everything in that bag.


That fruit sure was good.  So was the concoction I threw together:  chicken, corn kernels, scallions, chili peppers, Italian green peppers, red bell peppers and mushrooms, all stir fried with a little bit of curry powder and soy sauce, and tossed over some Japanese buckwheat noodles.  Max and Marley were all over me:  They liked the chicken, too. (All right, I cooked some without the vegetables and sauce and noodles for them.)

Hipster Hook Bikes

How do you know you're in Hipster Hook?


Well, first of all, I should tell you where and what Hipster Hook are.


Roughly, HH rims the East River in Brooklyn and Queens from the Williamsburgh Bridge to the Queensborough (a.k.a. 59th Street) Bridge.  From the river, it stretches a few blocks inland, to about Driggs Avenue in Brooklyn and 11th Street in Queens.  Hipster Hook includes parts of the Brooklyn neighborhoods of Williamsburgh and Greenpoint, and the Queens Community of Long Island City.


All right. You don't always have your map or GPS handy.  So, how else can you tell you're in the Hook?


Well, just take a look at the bikes parked locked to the sign posts, parking meters or other immobile objects:

I mean, where else are you going to find a '70's Bob Jackson, with a full set of Campagnolo Nuovo Record Components, converted to flat-bar use and locked up next to two other bikes?

If you've been following this blog, you have probably realized that I favor purple and deep green (especially British Racing Green), cobalt blue or burgundy bikes.  But I also have a soft spot for orange bikes of that time.  (I include Marianela, the Schwinn Le Tour I used to ride.)  Somehow, the orange bikes made since then just don't have the same kind of character:  Instead of glowing, they shout.

Anyway, I think that bike also has the only thing that, to me, could have made it even prettier:  a somewhat-aged Brooks B-17 saddle in honey.


I wish I could have gotten a full solo shot of the bike.  Oh well.  At least one of the bikes locked next to it was a Masi from the same era.  Today, bikes bearing the Masi name are being made in Taiwan and seem to be, at best, parodies of the real thing.

And how else do you know you're in Hipster Hook?  Well, the bike locked next to the Bob Jackson and Masi was a current KHS bike.  Not bad, really:  I once had a KHS myself.  But you simply can't compare it to those other two bikes!