Riding The Buffalo

 Bicycle enthusiasts—whether we sprint to finish lines, cross cities or continents or simply appreciate technology and fine workmanship—are ripples in the ocean of the bicycle world.

That fact is easy to miss or ignore if you live in a Western/Global North city with bike lanes and well-stocked shops, or if you do all of your bike-related shopping online. It didn’t become real to me until I went for a ride in the Cambodian countryside with a native and both of us rode bikes like the ones people in the area ride.

People who haul their stuff and themselves—I’m not talking about someone in Williamsburg or Portland picking up artisanal bread at the local farmers’ market—don’t ride the latest high-tech carbon fiber wheels and frames with 12- (13?)-speed electronic shifting systems. For one thing, they can’t afford such things.  For another, in the Global South—especially in rural areas—there isn’t a shop stocked with the necessary parts, equipped with the required tools and staffed by mechanics trained to use them—or any bike shop at all. And two- or three-day shipping isn’t available in those areas, even if the shop or an individual has internet access and can order.

Moreover, roads tend to be less developed and maintained, if they exist at all. A laden bike might be ridden on a trail or even on parched or sodden earth.

Bikes lead hard lives under such conditions.  Therefore, reliability and simplicity are the paramount qualities.

World Bicycle Relief—an organization I’ve mentioned in previous posts—understands as much.  In response, they’ve developed the Buffalo Bike, consisting of a rugged steel frame and a coaster brake.

In addition, WBR has trained over 3000 mechanics to keep those bikes rolling, mainly in Africa and South America.  Trek has partnered with WBR to ensure distribution and repair of those bikes.

According to WBR, it takes $165 to provide one of those bikes and keep it rolling.  That is less than what most department store bikes sell for in North America or Europe, and Buffalo Bikes are sturdier and require less maintenance.

One Person’s Trash Is Another Person’s Lifeline

 If one were to ask most Americans which possessions they most fear losing, their cars would be high on their lists.  Especially in areas outside city cores, away from mass transportation networks, people depend on their automobiles to get to work or school and for many everyday tasks.

For people who don’t own or drive cars—whether by choice or circumstances—bicycles can be their connection to the rest of the world.  I am one such person.  Others include a club in which I hope not to become a member:  people who don’t have housing. 

In New York, where I live, and in other cities, one often sees battered, grimy and rusty machines among tents, sleeping bags, shopping carts, boxes and shipping crates sprawled under bridge and highway underpasses, train trestles and in any public space with something spread, hanging or standing over it that can provide at least a partial shield from rain and other elements. Because those spaces are often squalid, through no fault of their inhabitants (Americans never have been very good at taking care of public spaces), whatever ends up in them—including their inhabitants’ possessions and the inhabitants themselves—are seen as disposable.

At least, that seems to be the attitude (mis)guiding some City of San Diego officials.  They, who fancy themselves the finest of the self-proclaimed “America’s Finest City,” went into encampments (Would they enter someone’s house or apartment without knocking on the door or ringing the bell?) and tossed unhoused people’s bikes into garbage trucks.

As activist Jacob Mandel pointed out, “For unhoused people, a bicycle can be a lifeline, providing low-cost/free transportation to employment that could break the cycle of poverty.”

He added, “The city is destroying those lifetimes.” Not to mention that if anyone else did what those officials did, it would be considered theft.

The @cityofsandiego throwing away bikes again. pic.twitter.com/AevAm0RDm9

— Michael McConnell (@HomelessnessSD) May 1, 2023

How Many Can Ride Your Bike?

 Now I am going to separate the guys from the girls.

Wait, why would I do that?

Actually, I am going to separate the generations. If you can remember what I am about to mention, you’re definitely not a Milennial and possibly not of Gen X.

Back before we got cell phones, if you needed to make a phone call away from home, you went to a phone booth.

I am told that for a time, there was a fad among college students: They crammed as many people into one of those booths as they could.  I don’t know whether I wish I’d seen it, but I am glad I never participated in such lunacy:  I’m pretty claustrophobic.

(So what, you ask, am I doing in New York, living in an apartment?)

Anyway, I got to thinking about all those bodies stuffed into glass boxes when I saw this:

आज दुनिया की आबादी 8 अरब हो गई, इस उपलब्धि को हासिल करने में ऐसे इंसानों को बहुत बड़ा योगदान रहा है👇 pic.twitter.com/Fiq62o0OiK

— Jaiky Yadav (@JaikyYadav16) November 15, 2022

How many people can ride a bicycle built for one? I don’t know whether the limit is nine.  Then again, I’m not sure I want to know!

Where Cycling Really Means "Power To The People"

A bit more than a week ago, I mentioned Nicolas Collignon's article, in which he wonders why bicycles aren't in planners' thoughts about sustainable transportation and other aspects of urban planning.

A bit more than a year ago, I described one of the rare examples in which transportation cycling has been made a part of sustainability planning:  a bike lane with solar panels in--where else?--the Netherlands.

Well, I have just learned of another bike lane with solar panels--in South Korea.  The Asian path, however, is not only much longer (about 32 km vs 330 meters), but also has a very different design from its European counterpart.

The Maartensdijk ribbon has solar cells embedded in its prefabricated concrete blocks.  The lane from Daejeon to Sejong--the country's administrative capital--sits in the middle of a major highway and is segregated, not only from that highway, but (at least in part) from the elements.  That lane is covered by a series of canopies of solar panels, which, its designers say, not only generates clean energy, but also encourages cycling in less-than-ideal weather conditions--and shields melanin-deficient folks like me from the rays that are being harnessed for power.

The Korean bike lane has been open and widely used since 2014.  Given all of the talk about sustainability, I wonder why so little attention has been paid to it.

I also wonder why there aren't more similarly integrative solutions to the problems of sustainability.  And, like Nicolas Collignon, I wonder (actually, I know some of the reasons why, but still...) why bicycles aren't included in the first place, especially here in the US.

Go To School, Get A License--And 100 Euros Toward Your Bike

Since Vladimir Putin launched his Ukraine invasion, many have worred that other adjacent countries, which were part of the Soviet Union, may also be in his sights.  Among them is Estonia.  Although, unlike Ukraine, it's a NATO member, it's also much smalller. 

In the three decades since the Soviet Union dissolved, Estonia has, in many ways, become more progressive than other countries.  While its policies on gender and homosexuality aren't like those of, say, the Netherlands (in large part because of its vocal Russian minority), it nonetheless recognizes same-sex partnerships and the gender identities of transgender people.  And it was the first nation to enshrine internet access as a human right in its laws.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the country is also encouraging people to cycle for transportation and recreation.  The government of its capital city, Talinn, has submitted a draft proposal to the city council to subsidize a local "cycling school" for kids aged 10 to 15.  Upon completion of its curriculum, which will include courses in traffic safety, those young people would receive bicycle license--and 100 Euros toward the purchase of a bicycle.

The goal of this program is to popularize cycling as a form of mobility among the young.  I am guessing that the city planners hope that people will continue to cycle for transportation and recreation when they are old enough to drive.  Licensing and offering the subsidy might indeed help.  I just hope that the school's classes don't perpetuate some of the misconceptions that "bike safety" programs promulgate here--and planners, policy makers and law-enforcement officers perpetuate--here in the US.  

Somehow I don't think such a program would make Putain, I mean Putin, happy.  That might be enough reason to support it!

What Do We Know? We Just Ride Bikes!

I am going to rant.  You have been forewarned.

Nothing angers me more than someone in a position of authority who schedules a meeting or gives you a few minutes to "state your case" when they've already made up their mind. Someone who is deemed an "experts," has a fancy title and is given unilateral decision-making power seems to be particularly prone to such behavior.  

What bothers me about such a person is not that they make the wrong decisions or simply ones that I disagree with.  Rather, it's their pretense of considering what  you have to say, when, deep down, they have no interest in learning anything more than they already know and are convinced that they can't learn it from you--a mere prole or rube, in their eyes.

I've seen many such people in the academic world. Because they have advanced degrees to go with their fancy titles, they know more or better than you, or so they think.  They're even worse after they've taken a workshop or seminar on something like race or gender identity or discrimination:  They are absolutely convinced that they already know what they need to know and would never consider hearing from somene who has actually experienced what those workshops and seminars supposedly taught them.

There is, of course, a parallel in the world of urban and transportation planning, especially when it comes to bicycling.  The planners may not have ridden bikes since they were kids--or, possibly worse, they ride on a path in a park while on vacation and think of themselves as "bike riders."  They plan and develop bike lanes that go from nowhere to nowhere and have turns, stops and signals that actually endanger cyclists more than riding in a traffic lane ever would.  And they hold hearings in which they invite representatives of bike advocacy groups to "get input" about the "bicycle infrastructure" they want to build.

I thought about my experiences in the academic world and bicycle and transportation advocacy when I came across an article about the Reno's pilot program that seeks to make "infrastructure improvements"  for bicycles, scooters and other "micromobility solutions." In a typically clueless statement, the Nevada city's assistant director of public works, Kerri Koski, said "We'll take and collect the data that we get, we'll analyze that and take a look at what makes the most sense."

Truckee Meadows Bicycle Alliance President Ky Plakson said that while area cyclists may welcome whatever the city ultimately does, they were not apprised of the study or the pilot program.  "We're told at the last minute that something's happened; we're brought into the conversation after the decision has been made," he said.  That sounds unfortunately familiar.  And he echoed something I said before, and after, any number of "bicycle infrastructure" projects were initiated--including the bike lane that lines the street where I live:  "If you're going to build a bike path, talk to people who ride bikes."

Do they teach that in graduate programs for urban planning?

What Do They Carry?

 Every once in a while, I see an article or blogpost about carrying stuff on your bicycle.  They mention the usual things:  racks, panniers, other bike bags, baskets, backpacks, trailers and such.

None of them, though, has ever mentioned anything like this:

Bike And Food Drive In Washington State

During the pandemic, increasing numbers of people have needed...well, everything.  Folks who have lost jobs or been otherwise affected are looking food, clothing, anything that can connect to the Internet--and, in some cases housing.

And bicycles. 

Between folks who have discovered or re-discovered cycling for fun, or are using it as an alternative to public transportation, it's hard to find a bicycle--new, used or otherwise.

 

Apparently, the folks at Keller Williams Realty of Kent, Washington understand as much.  Tomorrow, they will close their offices, as they do every year, for a day of community service.  This year's event will be a contactless food drive to benefit the Kent Food Bank and other local food banks through Northwest Harvest.  

For the drive, Kelller Williams is accepting non-perishable food items with current shelf life*.  They are also taking in used bicycles and usable bicycle parts that Bicyce Rescue for Youth will refurbish for low-income households with children.

I think it's good that Keller Williams recognizes that certain needs go hand-in-hand:  Families that need food also can use bikes, whether for the kids or adults, for the trip to school or work--or to look for work.

*--Pasta is a commonly-donated item.  It's a good choice, as it has a long shelf life, and most people like it.  But, as my mother, who helped run the food bank at her church, taught me, it's a good idea to give a jar or can of sauce with each package of pasta you give.

A Theology Of Bike Repair For All

 In the spring of 2017, I spent two months volunteering at the Jubilee Soup Kitchen in Pittsburgh.  One day, a 70-year-old black man named Rupert showed up with a nasty bruise over his eye.  A bicycle accident because of faulty brakes, he said.

John W. Miller recounts this experience in America:  The Jesuit Review. After asking around, "I was stunned by how many people rode bicycles to come get their meals," he recalls.

In his article, he reports something I've described in other posts:  In cities like Pittsburgh and New York people who cycle by choice--whether for transportation, recreation or fitness--tend to be younger, better-educated (and whiter) and have better incomes than those who cycle out of necessity.  In fact, those in the latter category are in the lowest income categories and include the unemployed and those who receive public assistance--and, of course, use soup kitchens.

From Dreamstime

He also makes an observation I've related:  Poor cyclists are, as often as not, riding bikes in dire need of repair and maintenance. They may be riding bikes purchased from flea markets, yard sales or on the street--or inherited, or rescued from a curbside or fished out of a dumpster.  

Miller applauds organizations and initiatives that give bikes to the poor--and, in the case of programs like Recycle a Bicycle, teach people how to resurrect bikes that might have otherwise met their fate in a landfill.  But he also points out that it's necessary to keep those bike maintained so more folks don't end up like Rupert.  Even more to the point, a reliable bike is reliable transportation--to school, a training program or a job.  

Finally, since he's writing in a Jesuit magazine, Miller makes the point that everything he recommends is consistent with the teachings of the Catholic Church--and the current Pope has expressed his approval of bicycles.  Given that he's expressed more genuine concern for the poor than other prelates, it's not a surprise.

Mayor Pete Might Master This

Should cycling proficiency be required of anyone who would lead a transportation organization?

Most readers of this blog would answer "yes!"  My own unbiased (wink, wink) opinion would incline me to agree.  But some would disagree; not so long ago, most people would have.  I think one's answer depends on whether one sees bicycling as a form of transportation; although the number of people who see it that way is increasing, there are still many who see cyclists as young people with a sense of entitlement.  Those, I believe, are among the people who are upset whenever a bike lane "takes" "their" parking spaces.

While we're talking about definitions: If the director of a transportation organization or agency should exhibit cycling proficiency, what, exactly constitutes it?  I think most of us would agree that Pete Buttigeg, the Secretary of Transportation doesn't have it, at least judging from the video from which this still is taken:

⁦

To be fair, he even joked about his cycling skills, or lack thereof.  But we all know that time and practice makes you more proficient and savvy.

That last sentence, by the way, can apply to his political aspirations.  When he ran in last year's Democratic Party primaries, he was younger and less experienced than the other candidates.  I think that he'll run again and, possibly, win in 2028--when he'll be about the same age as Obama, Clinton and JFK were when they entered the White House.  And maybe, just maybe, Pete will ride to his inaugural--and look good doing it!

 

Was He A Sustainable Transportation Advocate?

What if Socrates were the protagonist of The Odyssey? 

Well, for one thing, it wouldn't be called The Odyssey because its central character is Odysseus.  So what would The Socratessy (or whatever it would be called) be like?

And what if, in such a story, Socrates had a bicycle?

I have to admit that I never pondered such a scenario.  Perhaps it means that I'm not as creative or deep a thinker as I've fancied myself to be.   Or it may simply mean that I'm not Samuel Beckett.  

Although I've read his poetry and most of his drama (of which I've seen performances), I am guilty of ignoring his fiction. Why? I don't know.  But after coming across an article by transportation policy analyst Gideon Forman, I plan to read Molloy.

Like his best-known works, Waiting for Godot (En attendant Godot) and Endgame (Fin de partie),  Beckett wrote Molloy in French.  (He was born and raised in Ireland but spent most of his adult life in France.)  The title character is, like Socrates, a kind of brilliant philosopher who is homeless. He is on a quest to reunite with his elderly mother; Odysseus is trying to get home to his wife.  And, in another sort-of-parallel to the ancient Greek tale, Molloy is not certain that he will arrive--or that he is even on his way to his destination.

Molloy, who has leg problems, nonetheless undertakes his journey on a bicycle.  "Crippled though I was, I was no mean cyclist," he says.  As Forman points out, however, the bicycle signals poverty:  Molloy can't afford bus or train fare, much less an automobile.  

But, as Forman points out, Beckett--whether or not it was his intention--shows what a democratizing force the bicycle is:  Even in his poverty, with his handicaps, Molloy still can ride it.  

Perhaps most interestingly of all, the bicycle becomes a sort of companion like the eponymous donkey of Juan Ramon Jiminez's Platero y yo  (Platero and I). "Thus we cleared these difficult straits, my bicycle and I, together," Molloy says of his mount.  I imagine that Molloy--and perhaps Beckett himself--would understand the grief I feel over crashing Arielle, my Mercian Audax, or the bikes I've lost to theft.

Could it be that Monsieur Beckett embedded advocacy for cycling (and other sustainable transportation) in a story about uncertainty?

Rewarded For Her Advocacy

Every month, the Post and Courier of Charleston, South Carolina gives its Golden Pen award.  The most recent recipient won for a letter on a topic that's too often ignored or reported in an uninformed way.  

Rebecca Vaughn of nearby Mount Pleasant and her husband are committed to depending entirely on their bicycles for transportation at least one day every week.  They are able to get around safely, she says, because of an established network of bike lanes in the town.  Once they venture out of their hometown, however, "the lack of safe spaces, particularly along the Highway 17 and 61 corridors is evident," she wrote.  

In her letter, she also notes that there is no safe way to cross the Ashley River by bicycle.  That is particularly frustrating, she writes, because in West Ashley, on the other side of the river, there are bike lanes that make it possible to navigate much of the town on two wheels.

In her letter, she noted that a bike-and-pedestrian bridge over the Ashley River would allow cyclists like herself and her husband to cycle from their homes, through downtown Charleston and into West Ashley and beyond.  This linkage would provide community benefits and help "unlock a piece of the puzzle that will allow residents and visitors to enjoy a safe transportation choice," she wrote. She concluded by urging her senators--Lindsey Graham and Tim Scott--to lead the effort to secure the necessary federal funds.

As part of the Golden Pen award, Ms. Vaughn will be invited to a luncheon with the Post and Courier editorial staff.  I assume she will ride to it.

Enlightened Self-Interest?: Uber And Bike Sharing

During rush hour, it is very inefficient for a one-tonne hunk of metal to take one person ten blocks.

Who said that?  An urban planner?  An environmentalist?  Someone involved with a bike-share program?

That last answer would be the right one, sort of.  Dara Khosrowshahi is the CEO of the company that acquired bike-share startup Jump Bikes.

And that company is...Uber.  Yes, the ride-share company:   one of the companies responsible for clogging the streets of cities like New York with drivers who pull over, seemingly without warning or regard for pedestrians or cyclists.  (I've had a couple of near-misses with Uber drivers who were looking at their screens instead of what (or who) was outside of their windows.)  Believe it or not, they're not only getting into bike share, they will soon offer electric scooters in San Francisco and other cities.

So, what brought about Mr. Khosrowshahi's seeming apostasy?  As he told The Financial Times, "There's a $6 trillion mobility market, and no one product is going to be serving that whole market."  So, while shifting some of the company's resources from drivers to cycling or scooters may hurt profits for a little while, it will pay off in the long run by giving people more options.

Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi presenting Jump Bicycles in Berlin, Germany.

Interestingly, he says some Uber drivers are even embracing the idea.  The reason, he says, is that bicycles would reduce the demand for short rides and leave drivers to complete longer, more lucrative runs, such as rides to airports.

And, unlike yellow cabs, Uber drivers don't make money if they're stuck in traffic:  Usually, they are paid a fixed or agreed-upon amount of money for a trip, regardless of whether it takes 10 minutes or an hour.  Yellow cabs, on the other hand, have meters that continue to run whether the car is zipping down a side street or idling on the Long Island Expressway. (How can it be an "expressway" if the traffic isn't moving?  Its acronym, the LIE, is more apt.)

So, as Khosrowshahi says, driving a tonne of metal ten blocks isn't a very efficient way to transport one passenger--from a transportation, environmental or economic standpoint. Ultimately, it doesn't even help the drivers' bottom lines.  More bikes, fewer cars, less congestion and pollution...because of Uber?  Who knew?

World Bicycle Day: 3 June

The past decade or so has seen efforts to promote cycling as a viable form of transportation, not to mention recreation.  Such efforts have included everything from the establishment of bike share and earn-a-bike programs to the construction of bike lanes.

The latter, along with other bike infrastructure, varies widely (to say the least) in the quality of conception and construction.  One hopes (or at least  I hope) that planners will learn from their mistakes or be replaced by folks who understand cycling.

Nearly all of the work I've mentioned, though, has been initiated locally--usually by cities or independent organizations.  There have been few initiatives on the county, state or national level here in the US or in other countries.

That may change.  One of the most influential worldwide organizations is making at least a token effort to promote cycling around the globe.

That organization is none other than the United Nations.  On 12 April, at a Regular Session of the General Assembly, a resolution was discussed.  It was adopted by a consensus of the 193 member states.

The resolution declares 3 June as World Bicycle Day.  The purpose of that declaration is, according to a UN press briefing:

[to] emphasize and advance the use of the bicycle as a means of fostering sustainable development; strengthening education, including physical education, for children and young people;  promoting health; preventing disease; promoting tolerance, mutual understanding and respect; and facilitating social inclusion and a culture of peace.

What the UN is saying is, in essence, that cycling can help to achieve some of the organization's stated goals.  I think they're right. (As a longtime cyclist, I'm a totally unbiased observer, right?)  Things like peace, sustainability and respect for each other's humanity seem all the more important in the days after the missile strike in Syria and a report that the Gulf Stream is the weakest it's been in more than a millenium and a half.  

My Coffee Runs Are Nothing Compared To His!

When I was a NYC bicycle messenger, relatives, friends and others urged me to get another job.  "It's so dangerous!" they exhorted.

I hear that same admonition, sometimes, when people learn that I continue to ride in the Big Apple.  A few people I know have told me they used to pedal the pavement of the big city or spin their wheels somewhere else, but they stopped because it was "too dangerous".

Now, I know I have to be vigilant when riding in traffic.  And there are other hazards.  To me, though, riding in my hometown is no more--and probably much less--perilous than pedaling in other places.  

I know.  I have ridden in some of those other places.  None of them, however, is nearly as hazardous as what these folks traverse every day:

The border area between Sudan and South Sudan is one of the most dangerous places on Earth.  The climate, terrain and political situation make for a truly hazardous coffee run, to say the least.

I do not make that last statement lightly.  The bicycle traders in the video make two-day trips to get coffee, juice and other items that might not be available in their home villages.  

And I used to feel proud of going a few miles along sometimes-potholed roads for bagels!

The Future In A Milk Crate?

Perhaps it has to do with having gone from living as a guy named Nick to a woman named Justine. Or maybe it's just a result of aging.

Although I still like long rides--and, sometimes, to pedal as long, fast and hard as I can--my attitudes about cycling have been changing.  Now I can see how arrogant and, frankly, elitist--at least when it came to cycling--I was not so long ago.  Sometimes I still find remnants of those old notions within me: I still get annoyed with riders (these days, many of them on Citibikes) who twiddle along and take up just enough of the lane or road to keep me from passing.  Those dilettantes!  But now I understand how such snobbishness--whether against riders who aren't kitted out in the latest lycra uniforms or bikes that aren't what riders in the Tour would ride--has kept bicycles from becoming the vehicles for change (pardon the pun) they can be.

To be more precise:  Such attitudes have kept people (like yours truly) from allowing the bicycle to transform our cities and our lives in, well, ways that would make our cycling more pleasant as well as practical.  Too many planners see planning only in terms of painting lines on a streets and calling them "bike lanes"; in turn, too many people see those lanes--as well as bike share programs as entitlements for privileged young people.  

As much as I love my nice bikes and rides, I know that if cycling has a future, it lies with the unemployed and minimum-wage workers who ride so they don't have to spend large portions of their incomes (or savings) to buy, maintain, fuel, park and repair cars.   It lies with people pedaling to their schools, offices and shops, and those who go for a spin with their kids or parents or neighbors at the end of the day--as well as those who want to have schools, offices and shops to ride to, and people to ride with.

Last year, I wrote about how city planners and non-profit groups came to recognize these facts, and re-thought what makes a city "bike friendly". They came to see that in Reading, Pennsylvania, where they were working, it meant creating a network of bike lanes that actually allowed people to pedal quickly and safely all over to the city.  They also realized that, in a poor post-indstrial city that has little mass transportation, they had to make bicycling more affordable and convenient for residents.  So, bike racks were installed on city buses, and when Reading's first bike shop opened, it concentrated on selling used bikes and affordable parts, conducting safety and repair workshops--and loaning tools.

Now, I don't know whether planners in Stockton, California have been paying attention to what the folks in Reading have done.  It seems as if they have been:  The city's latest plan calls for a series of bike lanes that will allow cyclists to pedal out of their neighborhoods and ride all over town.  But these lanes won't be just lines on the street:  They will be separated from motor vehicle traffic by barriers or raised medians.  In some areas, traffic lanes will be removed in order to make room for cyclists.

Whether or not the planners in Stockton followed the work of their peers in Reading, they at least seemed to be listening to the concerns of everyday cyclists like Alfonso Macias.  He is a 56-year-old farm worker who doesn't own a car.  Bungee cords hold a grocery crate to the rear rack of a bike he pedals to the store, where he buys the food he carts to his house.  Along the way, he has to share streets that don't have bike lanes, or even shoulders, with drivers who weave around him, or around whom he has to weave.  "Thank god I've never been hit," he says.

Now, he is cycling out of necessity.  Others, who could choose to leave their cars home and ride for errands and such, are deterred from doing so because of the hazards Macias faces.  Here in New York, people have expressed similar concerns, and even wondered how I could ride in this city's traffic. "Aren't you scared?," they wonder.

Even if people perceive cycling as more dangerous than it actually is, their fears need to be heard.  So must the concerns of folks who tie grocery crates to their bikes so they can go shopping.  They, not the wannabe racers encased in lycra, are the future of cycling.

Elettricita

Its romantic style with dips and crests take (sic) us back in time onto the bumpy, narrow passages of Italy.


Does anyone describe anything Italian in the English language without using words like "romantic", "love" or
"amore"?

This year, a beautiful pair of Sudini boots I wore for years finally gave out.  What I'll remember as much as the boots themselves is the box in which they came.  It was unremarkable, at least as Italian boxes go, except for the slogan underneath the Sudini name:  "Make love to your feet."

I am guessing it was, shall we say, an idiosyncratic translation of something.  To my knowledge, there are no more foot fetishists, per capita, among Italians in Italy or the diaspora, than among any other people in the world.

So what has the "romantic style" with "dips and crests" that are meant to remind us of "the bumpy narrow passages" (Sounds like a relationship or two in which I've been involved!) of my ancestors' (some, anyway) country?

It's something called "Velorapida".  That, of course, means "fast bike" in Italian.  There's nothing wrong with a name like that:  After all, "Motobecane" means "motor bike" in French.

But the "Velorapida" is something I don't normally associate with romance:  an e-bike.  Most of the ones I've seen here are ugly and are, most of the time, ridden by delivery workers or people who want to believe they're riding bicycles but don't want to put forth the effort.

I must say, though, that the Velorapida does challenge my belief, at least a little, even if it won't turn me to an e-biker:

To me, it looks like a newer, updated version of bikes you see all over Europe.   It even has the requisite charm and character.

The handcrafted leather bag, however, is not there to merely to add charm or even to carry formaggio or frutta from the local market.  Instead, it encases a "secret" battery pack.  

Oh, no!  I'll never look at leather bike bags the same way again!

I must say, though, that if someone is riding an electric bike instead of driving a car--or because he or she, for whatever reason, can't ride a regular bike--I am happy.  And I can't begrudge someone who's trying to make a living on an ebike:  If it's more expedient for them in any way than any other delivery vehicle, I can understand why they'd ride it.

I don't know what the Velorapidas cost.  If I were President (tee hee), I would decree that employers could provide them (or regular bicycles) for their workers and deduct them from their tax bill!

A Worker Rewards Hard Work--With A Bicycle

Perhaps you frequent a store or cafe and see the same person behind the counter every time.  Maybe you've progressed beyond exchanging pleasantries and have come to know something about that person who makes your coffee or sells you a newspaper or stamps.  

Yes, such things happen here in New York.  But I'm sure they happen even more frequently in some smaller towns.  

While it's nice to get to know that person who makes your sandwich, doing so can also be a little sad:  That person might be doing it because of some unfortunate circumstance.  And getting to that counter every day could be a job in itself.

Such was the case of Johnny Phillips.  Every day, he walked two hours to the Circle K market in Springfield, Illinois, where he worked a ten-hour shift.  Then he walked two hours to go home.

Jim Copeland learned of his story because he stops at that Circle K store every night, on his way to work.  He knew that Phillips "had to walk through a bad neighborhood" and figured that "if he did all that, he was really dedicated."  So, Copeland thought, "maybe I could help him."

On his way to work, an idea popped into Copeland's head:  "What if I could find a decent bike at a decent price?" So he went--where else?--to Craigslist, where he found a suitable machine. He took it to a "bike nut" friend, who oiled the chain and adjusted the brakes.

On Monday, Copeland brought the bike to the store's parking lot, told Phillips to close his eyes and handed him his new mode of transportation.  One can only imagine the emotions Phillips must have felt, some of which showed on his face.

For his part, Copeland drives a truck for a postal service contractor, so I suspect he knows a thing or two about work and dedication!

Bikes Will Eat Cars

Bikes will eat cars.

No, I am not using, uh, herbal remedies for non-medicinal purposes.  I haven't done that or used any other illicit substances in so long that I'm covered by the statute of limitations. (That is one thing to look forward to as you get older!)  In fact, the four words that opened this post aren't even mine.

They were uttered by Horace Dediu.  Who is he?, you ask.

I confess:  I didn't know who he is until I came across an article in, of all places, CNN Money.  There, he is described as a "prominent analyst of disruptive technologies."  That title alone makes him sound like he has an IQ that's even higher than my weight (in pounds, which is saying something!)

The way he sees it, bikes have all sorts of advantages over cars.  We are already familiar with some of them:  They're a lot easier to park and store, they cost less both to buy and maintain, and in many large cities, it's possible to get from point A to point B in less time one a bike than in a car, bus or, sometimes, even by rail.  

He also sees other advantages, which have only become apparent with the growth of bike-share programs.  One is, of course, the fact that bike share programs are relatively easy for cities to implement.  But another has to do with the sensors found in the bikes of some share programs.  At the moment, they're used to track the location of bikes so that they can be retrieved, especially in the newer programs that don't use ports or docks.  They also, of course, make it more difficult to steal the bikes.

Horace Dediu:  "Bikes will eat cars."

But the way Dediu sees it, that technology could develop into cameras that are placed in the bikes.  They, and other kinds of sensors, could record potholes and other real-time information that could be transmitted to city authorities.  They could even provide data on traffic and other street activity that could make Google Street View seem as antiquated as maps inked on parchment.

If you were to tell your non-cycling acquaintances what I've recounted, they'd object that bikes won't displace, much less "eat", cars for the same reasons they don't ride:  They're afraid of traffic, road conditions are bad and, oh, what do you do when it rains or snows?

Dediu has thought about those objections.  To address them, he describes the way infrastructure evolved around the automobile.  When the first motorized cars were created, there were far fewer paved roads, even in the most developed areas, and even the best roads were pretty rough.  Also, early cars were open-air.  It only took a generation or so for the landscape to be transformed by the infrastructure created for automobiles--which, by that time, were enclosed.

He sees a similar "evolution" for bicycles.  He thinks shells or other enclosures will become widespread, and that cities and other jurisdictions will develop bike lanes and other thoroughfares specifically for cyclists.

Finally, I must point out that when he says "bicycle", he isn't talking only about the kinds we pedal. He believes that electric bikes will also be part of the change he envisions.  Evidence for that, he explains, can be seen not only in the "explosive" growth in sales of e-bikes, but also in the fact that a few cities are introducing e-bikes to their share programs.  Some people who would be hesitant about trading their cars for pedaled bicycles could be enticed to ride e-bikes.  Also, the advantage in speed the bicycle offers in cities like New York could spread to areas further from urban centers.

One other obstacle--which, according to Dediu, must and will be overcome--to bikes displacing cars is the lack of availability of share bikes.  New York and San Francisco have the largest bike share programs in the US, at 12,000 and 7,000 bikes, respectively.  On the other hand, Beijing has 650,000 share bikes, all of which have hit that city's streets within the past nine months.

Horace Dediu says "Bikes will eat cars."  Whatever wastes they emit after their repast can't be nearly as toxic as what vehicles with internal combustion engines belch into the air we breathe!

An Intelligent Bike Trailer?

Most hardcore cyclists I've encountered sneer at electric bicycles, a.k.a. "e-bikes".  I admit that I did, too, when I first saw them.  Now, even though I'm not inclined to get one for myself, I more or less accept the fact that people ride them.  As long as their riders don't do anything stupid or careless around me, I don't worry.

I also must say that I've ridden with a trailer only a couple of times in my life.  As long as I am living in a New York City apartment, I probably never will own one.  I might, however,  consider buying one if I ever move to a place where everything I need isn't within a few minutes' bike ride and there is little or no public transportation.  If I were going to live car-free (or keep my driving to a minimum) in such an environment, I might need a trailer of some sort.

I'd like to think that I still wouldn't succumb and buy an "e-bike".  However, an electric trailer might be a good idea for really heavy loads.  In particular, one that exists only as a prototype, at least for now, looks interesting.




The "intelligent bicycle trailer" , created by Hamburg-based startup Nuwiel, attaches to a bicycle in much the same way as a kiddie trailer. So, it would be relatively easy to remove or install. 

What makes it "intelligent"?  Well, it has sensors in the attachment bar that measure the movement of the bike.  (By movement, I wonder whether they mean simply speed or the way the bike is traveling, e.g., into the wind.)  That information is transmitted to the trailer, which adds force as needed, up to a top speed of 25KPH (15.5 MPH).  A regenerative braking feature allows the trailer to slow the bike while partially recharging the batteries, which are said to have an average range of 50KM (31miles) per charge.

Nuwiel also says that when the trailer is not attached to the bike, it can be used as a motorized hand cart.  This could be useful for errands done on foot--say, to a store around the corner from where you live. 

The trailer, according to the company, will be available to courier and transport companies this Fall, and to consumers by 2019.  No price has been set.  Nuwiel seems to be pitching as a "last mile" delivery option and a carbon emission-free form of transport.

If nothing else, I am curious to see, and possibly try out the Nuwiel trailer.