Going With A Gnarly Idea

 Here in New York City, the prototypical commuter/errand/“beater” bike has flat handlebars, a single fixed cog or freewheel and tires somewhat wider and thicker than those found on road bikes. Frames are usually finished in plain colors or could be raw steel or aluminum. So far, those bikes sound like the love children of Minimalists and Brutalists. But those drab machines might have neon-colored V-shaped rims, as if to assert themselves against asphalt and concrete. Other cities’ signature bikes are variations on what I have described—or on Dutch-style city bikes. 

In still other places—typically hillier—bikes with multi-gear hubs or derailleurs are more common. Such machines often are modified ‘90’s mountain bikes, which some argue is the best kind of utility bike.

That belief seems to be a guiding philosophy of Gnargo.  Minneapolis natives Elysia and Zach Springer moved to Bentonville, Arkansas shortly before the pandemic.  They were drawn by the city’s reputation as a mecca for mountain biking—they had been cycling advocates in their former hometown—and other outdoor activities. It also happens to be the headquarters of Wal-Mart which, Elysia jokes, “sponsored” their move with Zach’s new job in product development for the retail colossus.

They had two toddlers and wanted to integrate cycling into their lives away from the trails. To them, the ideal solution was a front-loading family cargo bike like they’d seen in Europe. They weren’t widely available at an affordable price in the ‘States, much less in Arkansas, so they decided to make one themselves.

The first design was “pretty bad,” Zach recalls. But after a few tries, they hit upon something that satisfied both of them. It began with an old steel mountain bike frame, which Zach modified and equipped with an electronic kit. 

Needless to say, it got a lot of attention when they rode it around town. People asked where they could get a vehicle like it—which, of course, they couldn’t. So began the Springers’ enterprise.

It will be really interesting to see whether Gnargo’s front-loading cargo bikes become the signature mode of transportation for any community. Such a place would have a very different bicycle culture from New York or Portland!

Photos by Betsy Welch for Outside magazine.

A New Regime Ushers In A Bike Boom For Half Of The Country

According to the stats for this blog, most of you, my dear readers, live in what policy-makers call "advanced" economies with relatively stable political systems.  Thus, I would surmise, many, if not most, of you are cycling by choice. You know that it's good for your health.  Or you're trying to reduce your carbon footprint, or simply your energy bills.   Pedaling to work or school may be more convenient than other forms of transportation, especially if you live in a large city or don't have to commute long distances.  Finally, you might be riding just because you enjoy it.

There is at least one place where, for understandable reasons, I have few, if any readers.  One of those reasons has to do with access to Internet content:  Whether or not its rulers have restricted it through censorship and other forms of subterfuge, as has been rumored, many people simply have no way to connect.  That has to do with a second reason:  poverty.  Not only do many people not have the means to pay for access, the ways they use bikes--if they have access to them--are very different from what I often discuss. And, finally, I suspect that the authorities might block or scramble this blog, not only because of some of the opinions (some not bike-related) I express, but because of who I am.

In that locale, some might be pedaling for their health, though I suspect that, relative to the United States, few are fighting "the battle of the bulge" and its attendant diseases like diabetes.  I doubt many are riding for environmental reasons, not because the people aren't conscious of climate change, but because their carbon emissions, currently and historically, barely register at all.  And I don't think they're cycling to work, school or the market as an "alternative" form of transportation because, really, there aren't many alternatives for them.

So what place am I talking about?  It's literally on the other side of the world--socially and economically, as well as geographically--from where I am.  That place is the capital of one of the world's more remote countries:  Afghanistan. Whether or not it was their intention, the Taliban have loosed a surge of bicycles on Kabul's streets.  

Over the past thirteen months, since the Taliban took control of the nation, sanctions have seized up banking and trade. At the same time, aid from Western countries has disappeared. As if those things weren't bad enough, Putin's invasion of the Ukraine have sent fuel prices skyward.   Owning and driving a private car was prohibitively expensive for most residents even in the best of times.  Now it's all but impossible, and the dire economic situation has put bus and shared taxi rides out of reach for many.

Photo by Diaa Hadid

So, workers and students have taken to cycling and bike shops are popping up all over the city.  While they, and the more established shops, may have new bikes for sale, most people buy used bikes or fix up old ones, not only because they are less expensive, but the condition of many streets and roads ensures that new bikes won't look that way for long.

While some may return to taking buses or cabs if the economy and their incomes recover, some say they enjoy riding and have found other unanticipated benefits.  Ahmad Fahim, a 25-year-old radiologist, observed that in addition to weaving through traffic, his bike "gets me through Taliban checkpoints" where motor vehicles are typically stopped and searched. 

There is one dark side to this new Afghan bike boom.  It, too, was sparked--if not directly, then almost certainly intentionally--by Taliban rule.  If you know anything about the Taliban's fundamentalist Islamic beliefs, you might have guessed it:  The cyclists are all of one gender.  

The Taliban doesn't explicitly forbid women from cycling.  It doesn't have to.  It simply tells women to stay home and, if they step outside, to cover up and be in the presence of a male guardian.  Those edicts effectively ended the mini-bike boom Shannon Galpin helped to create among Afghan women for more than a decade.  She recalls, "It was like popcorn.  It just took off."  There were women's bike clubs and teams, and even a coed multi-day race in the relatively liberal province of Bamiyan.

When the Taliban took power, Galpin helped dozens of female cyclists flee the country.  The ones who couldn't now watch, with sadness, depression and anger, male cyclists.  "When you see men can do that and you can't do that, it feels like  injustice," laments a woman who asked that her name not be used because she's seeking asylum in the US.

It's a sad irony that she has to seek a new life in an unfamiliar country to enjoy something the Taliban have enabled in her own. I hope she finds the refuge she seeks--and that she continues to cycle, by choice.

Spoke Folks Picks Up And Delivers

Trash collection and waste disposal aren't the most environmentally-friendly industries.  Every aspect of it is, if you'll pardon the pun, "dirty," from the vehicles used to collect garbage to the ways in which our throways are destroyed or disposed.  

Perhaps it won't be turned into a "green" industry any time soon.  It seems that the best anyone can do is to transform one stage of the process at a time.  Justin Bondesen and Jess Cooper recognize as much.  Their efforts, says Bondesen, might be "really small" in "the scheme of things" but, he hopes, that it will show that thinking creatively about waste disposal is possible.

He and Cooper founded Spoke Folks. The Norway, Maine-based company is using bicycles instead of trucks to pick up trash.  

Bondesen admits that this change is "nothing compared to" what will need to be done "to undo global warming from depending on trucks for decades."  His and Cooper's work, they say, is part of their mission to get residents and businesses to rethink what, and how, they discard.  

They think that working from bicycles instead of trucks "is a lot more personal," in the words of Cooper.  And, getting people to think about the environment starts, for her and Bondesen, with their connections to their community.  Those ties have been reinforced by their hiring of two additional cyclists to haul trash, and by making their company a co-operative that is locally- and employee-owned.

In other words, they understand that caring for the environment is inseparable from strengthening communal bonds.  Scientists, policy makers and thinkers have been saying as much for decades, but people are more receptive to just about any message if it comes from someone with whom they perceive as one of their own.

In addition to carting garbage, Spoke Folks is expanding their philosophy of replacing gas pedals with bicycle pedals:  They are offering a delivery service.