4-1/2 Ft.

Probably the most famous objet d'art that has anything to do with cycling is the "bull" Pablo Picasso fashioned from a bicycle saddle and handlebars.  

There are others, of course, including Marcel Duchamp's bicycle wheel.  On the other hand, we don't often hear about performance art based on bicycles or bicycling.

Now an artist and librarian based in Oakland, California plans to help fill that void.

Lisa Conrad plans to cycle across the state of Nebraska from Thursday, 30 May until 15 June.  She will be accompanied by other artists who plan to traverse the state from west to east.  After the Cornhusker State, they plan to ride across Iowa. 



Now, they are not the first cyclists to ride across either state.  What will be different is their route, which will trace abandoned railroad tracks and the gaps between them.  The purpose, she says, is to explore the role of the railroad in the making of the United States, in particular through examining the tension between the romance of the rails and the reality of making them, which was often exploitative, to put it mildly.



While she doesn't mention anything about it, the ride/performance piece--called 4 -1/2 ft, after the standard width of a railroad track--the  coincides with the 150th anniversary of the Transcontinental railroad. 

This isn't the first such ride for Conrad and the other artist-cyclists.  Previously, they did a similarly-themed ride across Washington State and Northern Idaho, and another through Montana into Wyoming.

You can learn more about 4 -1/2 ft at their website.

On Track, Or Off The Rails?

If someone mentions a "track bike", you're likely to think of something that's meant to be ridden on the velodrome.

 

Such a bike will, more than likely, have a frame with a very short wheelbase and steep angles, a single fixed gear and no brakes.  If you actually race with such a bike, you're likely to equip it with very light tubular (sew-up) tires and rims, a very sharply angled handlebar stem and handlebars with a large drop and a very small flat area.

Also, if you're racing, you are likely to, at some point, ride on the top part of the embankment.  On some tracks, you will be riding almost horizontal position, as if you were riding along a wall.  I found that the best way to do this was simply to look ahead, not down, and keep on pedaling at a steady pace.

Now, if you're not confident of your ability to ride on a track, you can always try this:

That bike reminds me of the first "mountain bikes" Gary Fisher and friends concocted from old Schwinn cruisers and parts modified to fit them.  One difference is, of course, that those early mountain bikers barreled down northern California fire trails, while the bike in the photo would be ridden on railroad tracks, which are almost always flat.

 

Apparently, that bike wasn't "Stinky Pete"'s first "track" bike.  A vintage Panasonic touring bike met an untimely demise when it derailed (and you thought only derailleurs were supposed to do that!) at 16 MPH.

Talk about "going off the rails"!  Let's hope his second attempt stays on track!

 

They Rode Like They Were On Rails

Some of you have benefited from the work of the Rails-To-Trails Conservancy.  As their name indicates, they have worked to convert disused and abandoned railroad right-of-ways to paths for cycling, hiking and other non-motorized means of transportation.

Like canal towpaths, railbeds make for all-but-ideal bike paths.  They are usually flat; if there is an incline, the grade is gradual and even.  Plus, towpaths and railbeds are usually well-conceived and well-built, at least in part because the best engineers of their time worked on them; the Pennsylvania, New York Central, Union Pacific, and Baltimore and Ohio railroads attracted, and paid for, scientific and technical acumen as the major automobile manufacturers and aerospace companies would in later years.

Also, many old railroad viaducts, bridges and overpasses have endured because, ironically, in the early days of railroad engineering, nobody really knew which materials and methods were most suitable.  So, the early railroads--particularly the Baltimore and Ohio, erred on the side of caution and used what they thought were the strongest materials--as often as not, granite and iron.

What all of this means, of course, is that to make a good trail, sometimes it's not necessary to do much more than remove the tracks.  

Or maybe not even that.  

Believe it or not, in 1891, one Frank Brady of Chicago, Illinois got a patent for a bicycle much like that one.






Apparently, he wasn't the only one to patent a railway bicycle.  This one sprung from the mind of Allegheny, Pennsylvania native Henry Mann, and was patented a year after Brady's contraption:

Given that the 1890s were a Golden Age for both railroads and bicycles, it's no surprise that Brady and Mann weren't the only ones who, in that era, thought that "pedal to the metal" meant a velocipede on rails:




Note that in all of these patents, the vehicle in question is referred to as a "velocipede".  That was the common term for any pedaled vehicle; the Teetor vehicle in the 1898 patent has four wheels.  



Also note that the Teetor vehicle is referred to as an "inspection car".  Can you imagine how the world would be different if our cars were like that instead of the ones we have now?  Would our Interstate system consist of rails of steel rather than ribbons of asphalt?

Apparently, as the Bike Boom of the 1890s and early 1900s ended, so did attempts to make bikes that rode on rails.

The Promenades

Here's what I had for breakfast today:

Now, you might have a difficult time finding this product in your local store.  However, it might be worth finding, as it promises really good things:

The nutritional value goes like this:  Joie de vivre, 19 9 grams  Soleil (sunshine), 33 grams.  Synergie, 12 grams.  Energy, 13 grams.  Poesie (poetry), 21 grams. Addictif, 2 grams.  The "sacoche de banane" is what the French call a "fanny pack", "waist bag" or "bum bag."  Sometimes they're simply called "banane".

"Menil Monkey" is the name of a collaboration between the office of the 20th Arrondissement--which includes the neighborhood of Menilmontant, or "Menil" for short--and DJ Joachim Touitou, or Joachim.T.

Menilmontant is a neighbor of Belleville, the neighborhood that gave the world none other than Edith Piaf.  Both neighborhoods are in the hilly northernmost area of Paris that includes Montmartre and the cemetery of Pere Lachaise, where none other than Chopin, Oscar Wilde and, yes, Jim Morrison are buried.

On Menil Monkey's "cereal box", there's a warning that consumption of the contents can cause addiction to the 20th Arrondissement, among other things.

Well, I was there the other day...and the last time I was in Paris...and the one before that.  The 20th is indeed interesting because it's Parisian and cosmopolitan at the same time.  It's an area where you can eat and drink at old-school Parisian cafes or in West African, Middle Eastern, Asian or  Kosher (mainly Sephardic Jewish) establishments.

And I saw a lot of bike riders--of all kinds.  Some were on Velib (the Paris bike share program) machines; others rode bikes older than themselves; still others pedaled classic touring and racing bikes.  It was, in short, an interesting procession of un-self-conscious utility cyclists, cognoscenti  and folks on trendy bikes.

That procession seemed to spill down the Avenue de la Republique toward the bike lanes of the Canal St. Martin. There were some hipsters and wannabes on fixed-gear bikes.  (These days, most fixed-gear bikes in New York are being ridden with single-speed freewheels.) And there were a few riders on the kinds of bikes that seem to be sold, under different labels, but with the same cartoonish graphics, everywhere in the world.  But I got a kick out of seeing young people on bikes that would be considered "vintage" but to their riders are simply bikes that are getting them from wherever to wherever--and, possibly, did the same for an older sibling, parent, aunt, uncle or someone else before them.

The canal, like most others that are no longer used for shipping, offers a calming time for those who ride along its paths or sit on its banks.  I've been told that some of those romantic or painterly photos that look like they were shot on the Seine were actually taken along the canal.

Its calm surface, though, belies a tragedy that took place just steps away last November:

The Bataclan bar and concert hall, a site of the November 2015 terrorist attacks

But that didn't stop people from enjoying their afternoon there, whether they were dangling their feet into the water or spinning pedals.  

One equally-pleasant place where you're not allowed to ride, though, is the Promenade des Plantes.  You can bring your bike up there, but you're not allowed to ride it.  Still, it's worth climbing the stairs from the Avenue Daumesnil, near the Bastille and the Gare de Lyon  (where the Orient Express originated), to see what became of a former railway.

At the Grand Train exhibit I saw the other day, sections of old railroad tracks in a disused rail yard were turned into patches.  The Viaduc des Arts is, in contrast, a botanical garden about two kilometers long in the former track beds.  At street level, cafes, restaurants, shops and art galleries are in the vaults that hold up the railroad by way.  

This project is said to be the inspiration for New York's High Line, which was also a disused railway.  The difference, though, is that while the High Line does indeed have gardens, it's lined with all of the kinds of touristy shops and restaurants you can find at the South Street Seaport.  With the Viaduc des Arts, you can choose to go to the galleries and shops on the street level, or go up to the Promenade des Plantes for the flora and fauna--which, interestingly, do more than anything on the High Line to evoke (at least in my imagination) the tracks that once lined, and the trains that ran along, them.

After descending from the Promenade des Plantes, I rode by the Gare de Lyon--faster than any of the trains ;-)--to the Seine and the bridge back to my hotel.

Ah, yes, another fine day!

Really Riding On Rails

As you probably know, the Rails to Trails Conservancy has been instrumental in turning abandoned railroad lines into cycling and hiking trails. As RTC continues its work, there are still many former railway lines that would make great trails, but Congress might slash some of the funding it has previously allotted to such conversions.

I have shown, in previous posts, some abandoned rail lines within a few miles of my home that would make wonderful cycling and walking routes.  If and when they will be converted is anybody's guess. 

In the meantime, cyclists who want to use those railways have a two options.  One is to ride in the rail bed.  On a road or fixed-gear bike with skinny tires--or even a touring or hybrid bike--that could be very difficult, if not impossible, as those beds are filled with various combinations of rail ties (in various states of decay) as well as gravel, weeds, roots and whatever people dump there--which can include old washing machines and refrigerators!  Even on a mountain or cyclo-cross bike, such conditions wouldn't be easy to negotiate.

The other option is to ride on the rails.  I thought I was being sarcastic the first time I suggested it, but apparently there are people who do it:



 

Where These Tracks Could Lead

Back when I was doing a pretty fair amount of off-road riding, I often sluiced through the hills and gullies of Forest Park in Queens.  I was living in Park Slope then, and the park--which was bigger and less agressively policed than Prospect--was about half an hour away. So, on a spring or summer day, I could get in a ride after work.

Since I sold my Bontrager and stopped riding off-road, I have cycled to Forest Park, but not in it.  That is, until today.

Most of the park lies to the west of Woodhaven Boulevard.  But the part to the east is more thickly wooded and has a few other interesting geological features the other side lacks.  (Or, perhaps, the west side had them but they were obliterated by the golf course, bandshell and other things built there.)  I was riding south, toward JFK airport, when I espied one of the paths I used to ride.  It wasn't very long and ended abruptly in the trotting course, where other cyclists and I used to upset the horse riders.  I didn't see any today.

But I saw something more interesting, at least to me (or in terms of this blog):

 Did I never notice the track all those times I rode off-road?  Or did I forget about it?

When I chanced upon it, a cute tuxedo cat scurried across.  I don't know how long it's been since a train last rumbled and clattered over it, but I'm sure it's been decades.   It parallels a Long Island Rail Road (Yes, it's spelled as two words!) line that runs through another part of the neighborhood.  Perhaps some now-discontinued branch of the line ran here.  Or, maybe, freight trains:  The Atlas Park mall is about a kilometer to the southwest.  It used to be an industrial park (That phrase seems so strange) that, at one time, housed General Electric, Kraft, Westinghouse, New York Telephone and other large companies.  There are still some small factories as well as warehouses near the mall.

Anyway, I can't see abandoned railroad tracks without thinking, "Now this would be a great bike path!"  Old rail lines have been so re-purposed in other places; if the same were done to the tracks I saw today, they could be linked to the nearby section of the Brooklyn-Queens Greenway , which might one day be a continuous greenway that connects Brooklyn and Queens. 

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.