Will The Velo Continue to Vive After The Greve?

I can recall three transit strikes in New York City.  The first began with the new year in 1966.  I was a child then, and the main thing I recall is my father missing a couple of days of work, then taking cabs with co-workers.  

The second lasted nearly as long, and began on April Fools' Day in 1980.  I was a student at Rutgers but was making frequent trips into New York.  Back then, buses along the Princeton-to-New York/Port Authority Route had large luggage hatches on their undersides.  Since they were almost never used for the intended purpose, and because the bus operating company didn't seem to have any written policy against using those hatches for any other purpose, I and a few other cyclists would stow our bikes in them.  I recall one friendly driver who'd help us angle our bikes into the compartments and make sure the door was shut; other drivers simply looked the other way.  So, once I arrived in the city, I had a convenient way of getting around.

The last strike I recall began just before Christmas in 2005. Subway and bus workers walked off their jobs for three days.  I was teaching at another college and, since the strike coincided with the end of the semester, we were concerned that exams would be postponed until January--and that I'd have to postpone or cancel a trip I'd booked for then.  Thankfully, that strike ended before the holiday and only a few classes and exams, none of which were mine, had to be rescheduled.

During the 1980 and 2005 strikes, many commuters walked or rode bicycles to work.  (In fact, the practice of wearing a business suit with sneakers and carrying dress pumps or wingtips in a bag is said to have begun with the 1980 strike.)  I have had a difficult time finding statistics to confirm my observation that, while some continued to pedal to their offices, stores, factories or schools after each of those labor stoppages, more people continued to ride to work after the 2005 walkout than after the 1980 halt to the trains and buses.  

If my observation can indeed be borne out by empirical data, it would indeed be interesting, especially because the conditions of each strike were very different:  The 1980 strike unfolded with some of the blooms in the city's gardens, while the 2005 strike coincided with both the official beginning of winter and that season's first cold spell. 

Also, because the 1980 strike was much longer, one might expect the habit of cycling or walking to become more ingrained than it would have during the 2005 stoppage.  

Then again, some who weren't so inclined to ride or walk might have seen having to do so during the long 1980 strike in the way people viewed shortages and other privations during World War II or other protracted national emergencies:  They were eager to get back to their old ways.  On the other hand, having to bike or walk for only three days might leave people with more pleasant memories.

Moreover, as I recall, 1980 was a "year without a spring".  A cold, damp April gave way to a heat wave in early May that presaged a hot, dry summer.   Perhaps such weather was a disincentive to continue cycling, at least for some people.  On the other hand, after the cold wave during the strike, the winter of 2005-2006 was mild.  Perhaps it is no coincidence that the surge in the number of commuters and recreational cyclists began to surge right around that time.

I mention all of these things because the strikes in France--which include greves on the Transports Parisiens et Transiliens--have ended.  The trains and buses, with a few exceptions, came to a halt for most of December and January.  So there is a valid basis for comparing the change in transportation habits as opposed to the previous year.

Turns out, on the whole, the number of January cyclists in the City of Light--at least as measured on its major bike lanes--increased by 131 percent--over the first month of 2019.  That is to say, the numbers more than doubled and on two--the Voie Georges Pompidou and le Pont National--more than three times as many cyclists rode by.

It will be interesting to see how many of those "new" cyclists continue their riding habit as Metro and bus services return to normal.  I suspect they will, simply because cycling culture, while not as prevalent in Paris as in other parts of France, existed to a greater degree than it did in the Big Apple when its conductors, drivers and maintenance workers walked off their jobs.  Also, Paris' system of bike lanes and other infrastructure is more extensive and generally more useful than what New York has even now, let alone 15 years ago or 40 years ago, when it was all but nonexistent.

All I can say is to Paris is Vive la Velo!

 

Flying Fish, Submerged To The Depths In The Sunshine State

I am usually sad to see a mom-and-pop bike shop close for the same reasons I lament the loss of most independent book stores:  They are the source of a family's ( or a person's or community's) pride as well as livelihood.  But, too often, those closures are inevitable.

Such, it seems, is the case of Flying Fish Bikes in Tampa, Florida.   Opened in 1963 as Dud Thames Bicycles, it has served generations of the area's cycling community.   But even the area's year-round climate for cycling wasn't enough to keep it going into another decade.

Two of the usual culprits were blamed:  mismanagement and the proliferation of online retailers.  Indeed, some people who showed up for the auction of Flying Fish's remaining inventory admitted that they do most, if not all, of their shopping via touchscreens. 

But there were two other factors in Flying Fish's demise that caught my attention.  One is the machinations of a much larger retailer.  Now, the big-box stores like Wal-Mart can be blamed for the loss of some shops' sales, but one would think that even if people bought all of their bikes and accessories, for their kids or themselves, at Wally World, at some point they'd need a real bike shop for service.  

Unfortunately, such people might visit a bike shop once or twice, and may not spend very much money.  Still, the "big boxes" I'm talking about aren't just the retail behemoths we see along the interstates.  Instead, I'm talking about the giants of the cycling industry.  Though they are miniscule in comparison to Walmart and other mega-corporations, a few of the largest players in the bicycle industry can have the same power to destroy independent bike shops that the "big box" stores have to annihilate smaller shops that sell hardware, clothing and just about anything else.

The giant that vanquished Flying Fish is not just a giant in the industry: It's Giant.  In 2012, Giant Bicycle, Inc., made a deal in which Flying Fish owner Francis Kane agreed to buy and sell $120,000 of their bicycles in the Spring of 2013.

In a subsequent lawsuit, Kane said that Giant agreed to promote Flying Fish as the dominant Giant dealer in the area.  Moreover, Kane said, Giant did not disclose that it was planning to terminate its relationship with Flying Fish and open a "concept" store nearby.   

After a two-year court battle, a jury awarded Kane $250,000 in compensatory damages and $3 million in punitive damages in September 2015.  But even such a settlement ultimately wasn't enough to keep Flying Fish in business:  Giant countersued for the $120,000 in inventory Kane didn't pay for, as well as "compensatory" damages.  And, of course, there were legal fees. (Contrary to public perception, few people get rich by winning lawsuits.)

The court battle, though, wasn't the only thing to ground Flying Fish.  Performance Bicycles opened a mega-store in the area.  Last year, the company went bankrupt, but their Tampa store was falling to another force that contributed to the demise of Flying Fish.  Some would argue that it was an even bigger factor than the Internet, the business practices of Giant or big-box stores.

Even though cities all over the US are building bike lanes and starting bike-share programs, the number of people who commute by bike fell from a high of 904,463 in 2014 to 872,000 three years later, according to American Community Survey.  In the Tampa Bay area, the decline was even more precipitous:   According to ACS, the number of people who ride their bikes to work fell by 50 percent.  That, even as the League of American Bicyclists declared Tampa and St. Petersberg "Bike Friendly Communities" in 2016 and 2017, respectively.


One probable reason for that was, ironically, expressed by some of the people who showed up at the Flying Fish auction.  They said that they never depended, or stopped depending, on their bikes for transportation because doing so is "too dangerous."  If they ride, they stick to pre- or post-work training rides on bike lanes, or they drive with their bikes to ride in other places.

Their perceptions have some basis.  As I've mentioned in other posts, Florida has, by far, the highest per capita death rate among cyclists in the United States.  And the Tampa Bay area's statistics are in line with the rest of the state, meaning that a cyclist has a much greater chance of being killed there than in almost any other part of the nation.  I've never cycled in the Tampa Bay area, but my experiences of cycling in other parts of the Sunshine State make it easy for me to see why there's such a high mortality rate, and why, even though there are many casual or recreational cyclists, few people depend on their bikes for transportation.  It's one thing to go for "fun" rides on trails and bike lanes; it's another to navigate, day in and day out, roads with no shoulders or sidewalks and 55 MPH speed limits--and drivers who, usually, haven't cycled since childhood, if they ever rode at all.

So, while the Internet, big-box retailers and shady practices by one of the "giants" of their own industry may well have led to the closure of Flying Fish Bikes, it might have ultimately been done in because, as we have seen, a thriving bicycle culture doesn't exist without people who depend on their bikes to get to school or work, to shop or to get to the places where they get their entertainment or other social interactions.  No declaration of "bicycle friendliness" from the LAB or anyone else can make it otherwise.

What I’ve Never Said During A Ride

I have known more than a few cyclists who were devotees of Star Trek.  

However, according to a study conducted by Patricia Mokhtaraian of Georgia Tech, their love of the series, in all of its incarnations, probably doesn’t extend to a seemingly-fantastical mode of transportation featured in it:  teleporting.



Professor Mokhtarian, in fact, used teleportation as a baseline for “assessing whether an individual views travel purely as a disutility.” In non-academic terms, she gave people the hypothetical choice between teleporting and whatever mode of transportation they use to get to work or school. 

This study was conducted in Portland, so some experts would caution against extrapolating attitudes in society as a whole from it.  Then again, even in such a city, where commuting is, one assumes, less stressful than it is in, say, New York, just over half of respondents said they’d rather be teleported.

The most interesting part of the study, however, is one that, in my opinion, could be used to understand or even predict larger trends.  While there is indeed a fairly even split between those who would and wouldn’t choose to arrive at home or in their schools or workplaces a nanosecond after they took their first step, the divide grows or shrinks dramatically depending on the mode of transport.

In this regard, two methods of getting to where you’re going are practically inverses of each other:  While 73 percent of those who drive to work would choose teleportation, should it ever become available, only 27 percent of pedestrians would make such a choice.

Oh, another two methods are like photo-negatives of each other:  While 65 percent of public transport users would have themselves beamed in, only 34 percent of cyclists would.

All of this makes intuitive sense.  Most people who walk or ride to work in a city are doing so by choice and enjoy the open air and exercise.  I suspect that the higher satisfaction rate among pedestrians may be due to the fact that someone who can’t drive (for whatever reasons) or doesn’t have public transport available is more likely to be pedaling than walking to work.  I am not familiar with Portland, but in New York and most other large cities where I’ve spent time, people who walk to work almost always live within a few blocks of their workplaces.

All I know is that I’ve never heard a cyclist—not even one who’s a hard-core “Trekkie”—say “Beam Me Up, Scottie!” during a ride.

Moonset

I have pedaled into the sunrise, and into the sunset, to work.

Likewise, I have ridden into the sunrise, and into the sunset, to go home.

Less often, I have cycled into a moonrise, to or from my job.

This morning, for the first time (that I can recall, anyway), I spun my wheels into the path of a moonset.

A full moon setting, no less--on my to the college.

(Photos taken today, along East 139th Street, Bronx, NY)

First One In!

The new semester has just begun.

It looks like my bike is the first one in:

I have to set an example, if not a trend, you know.

If only more would follow!

How Many More?

This year is only half-over.  Here in New York City, more cyclists have already been killed by motorists than met such a fate in all of 2018.

The fifteenth and latest such victim is 28-year-old artist Devra Freelander.  A week ago, she was riding on Bushwick Avenue when a cement truck hit her.  

Devra Freelander

I am very familiar with Bushwick Avenue, a 10 kilometer long thoroughfare that cuts through the center of Brooklyn, from Greenpoint in the northwest to East New York in the southeast.  It is perhaps most famous for being part of Robert F. Kennedy's walking tour, which is said to have changed his politics prior to his 1968 Presidential campaign.  Today, it serves as a conduit for hundreds, if not thousands, of people--mostly young--who pedal to their jobs or clients in Manhattan.  

It also is, unfortunately, a prime route for trucks like the one that struck Devra Freelander.  While gentrification, in one degree or another, has taken hold in the neighborhoods (with the exception of Brownsville) along Bushwick Avenue, there are still industrial areas near the ends of the avenue--in East New York and East Williamsburg, where Ms. Freelander met her unfortunate fate.

Bushwick Avenue, for most of its length, has two lanes in each direction.  Because it's a major thoroughfare, traffic is usually heavy and there isn't much room to maneuver--especially for vehicles as large as cement trucks.  Worse yet, most trucks don't offer their drivers good sight lines, especially on narrow city streets.

What exacerbates the problem is that the city does little to enforce regulations on trucks or other commercial vehicles.  As a result, truck drivers frequently hurtle along at well above the speed limit--as the driver of the truck that struck Devra Freelander did.  Also, trucks are often operated outside of their legally-designated routes.  The NYPD's 90th Precinct, which covers the area where Ms. Freelander was killed, has issued only five tickets in 2019 to truckers operating outside their legal routes:  something--you guessed it--the driver was doing at the time he struck Ms. Freelander.

I don't want to make light of this situation, but there is a "You can't make this up!" aspect of the story.  Devra Freelander, the artist, made sculptures and video art that examined climate change, geological time and technocapitalism.  And she was killed by a cement truck while riding her bicycle.  

The year is only half-over, and more cyclists have been killed by motorists than in all of 2018. Devra Freelander is the latest.  How many more must meet her fate before my city gets serious about enforcing its regulations on trucks?

Bicycle Expressway Opens In Beijing

Just over a year ago, I wrote that construction of a 6.5 kilometer bicycle expressway was to begin in September.  It was designed to link the residential neighborhoods of Huilongguan in Beijing's Changping district with a rapidly-developing high-tech zone in the Haidan district, where about one in six Huilongguan residents work.

Well, that expressway has just opened. So why is it called an "expressway" instead of a "highway" or "lane"?  Well, it actually does speed up the commute, which could take an hour and a half because several busy highways had to be crossed.  The new Beijing bicycle expressway is elevated, so it crosses over those highways as well as other busy intersections.  As a result, the trip can be done in 25 minutes when a cyclist rides at the 20kph (12.5mph) speed  limit.

One really interesting feature of this new three-lane highway is traffic lights that allow managers to switch the direction of the center lane to accommodate traffic flow during the morning and evening rush hours.
  



Another stage of this bicycle highway is planned.  When completed, it will reach Zhuongguancun, often referred to as China's Silicon Valley.  Nearly one in five Huilongguan residents work there.

Could Beijing once again become the "Bicycle City" western tourists saw during the 1980s and 1990s?

Little Ricky Wasn't Afraid Of Me

No matter how well you know your route, you never really know whom or  what you'll encounter along the way.

During yesterday's commute, I encountered this:

"Ricky" (It sounds more gender-neutral than "Rocky") crossed my path, literally, under the Hell Gate trestle. If you've taken an Amtrak train between New York and Boston, you've ridden on that trestle.  The path leads to the Randall's Island Connector, which I take to the Bronx.

Since that path bisects fields and the connector crosses over the Bronx Kill, which connects the Harlem River with the East River, near the point where it meets Long Island Sound, it's not unusual to see animals, including the Randall's Island Salamander.  

What surprised me, though, is that when I stopped, little Ricky approached me.  Usually, when I see a raccoon, they dart away.  Perhaps nobody had taught Ricky to be afraid of humans--or to defend territory against them.

It took me too long to get my phone out of my bag, so I only captured an image of Ricky in retreat.  He/she was sooo cute (OK, how many baby animals aren't?) but I knew enough not to pick him/her up.  As the Parks Department reminds us, they're never too small to have rabies.

But, really, how can you associate someone so little and cute with something so terrible?  If I ever see little Ricky again, though, he won't be so little--and probably will've learned to be afraid.

She Lost Her Parking Space

When people ask you why you ride to work or school, you might say that it saves you money, gives you exercise or simply brings you to your office, shop or classroom in a better mood than you would have been if you'd had to fight traffic or the crowds in the train or bus station.

But, do you remember what got you pedaling to work in the first place?  Was there some specific event that caused you to dust off that bike you hadn't ridden in years and use it as your commuter?

Here in New York, some long-time bicycle commuters got their start during transit workers' strikes.  Here, and in other places, there are people who rode to class or work when they were poor students or low-wage employees and never stopped even after their economic circumstances changed.  Still others simply were trying to regain health and stamina they'd lost--or to gain such qualities after not having them in the first place.

For Amy Graff in San Francisco, the impetus was losing her parking spot at her job.  So, a month ago, she pumped up the tires on her 22-year-old Specialized Stumpjumper and started navigating the city's narrow streets and steep climbs.  She recounts her experiences in a SFGate article, "What I Learned After Riding My Bike For Three Weeks."

Some of the things she learned aren't surprising:  San Francisco is hilly, but biking is often the fastest way to get around the city. That second point could also be made about riding in New York, along with "getting doored is a real thing," "drivers are clueless about cyclists" and "people wear suits, even skirts, while biking."  

But my favorite "lesson" is this:  "the streets are cleaner than the sidewalks."  That's also something I could say about New York:  Even though we have a "pooper scooper" law; I've dodged (and stepped in) more doggie doo, vomit and other vileness left by blameless animals and clueless (or manner-less) drinkers. Let me tell you, those things are really difficult to clean out of your tire treads, which you certainly want to do if you want to bring a bike into a New York or San Francisco apartment!

Another Path For The Island

My daily commute takes me through Randall's Island.  It's a bit like riding through a large park, as much of the island consists of athletic fields and gardens.  

One thing about it is frustrating, though.  There are pedestrian/bike paths on the island, but they are not connected.   That means, for example, that when you descend from the RFK Bridge ramp, you could find yourself hurtling straight into the path of a bus or Parks Department maintenance truck because the path at the end of the ramp runs for a couple hundred meters before ending abruptly on the island's street.  And it's easy to miss the turn to get onto the path that leads to the Randall's Island Connector, the bike/pedestrian bridge that links the island to the Bronx.

Also, cycling is not allowed on the fields or, understandably, in the gardens.  So it's difficult, if not impossible, to go from, say, the 103rd Street pedestrian bridge to the Connector.

Well, it looks like at least one step is being taken to make the island more navigable for cyclists and pedestrians.  The Randall's Park Alliance has announced that it's received a grant for a new pathway to connect Sunken Garden Fields with the waterfront pathway by the 103rd Street Bridge.

While this will be a boon mainly to people living in (or cycling from) Manhattan, it is at least one link in what could become a system of paths that will allow more traffic-free access to more of the island.  

What is needed, along with that path, is one that transverses the island and allows cyclists and pedestrians exiting the Queens or Manhattan spurs of the RFK Bridge to access the Connector, and the eastern part of the island, without having to contend with buses and trucks barreling down, or traffic exiting the bridge.

One can hope...

Change of Scenery

When I cycle to work, I follow the same basic route on most days.  Sometimes I'm detoured.  For example, about three years ago, the RFK Memorial Bridge was closed, so I had to go through the East Side of Manhattan rather than Randall's Island.  At other times, however, I take short side-trips that more or less parallel my normal commute.

This morning was one of those times.  For some reason, when I got to the Bronx side of the Randall's Island Connector, I decided to turn right rather than left on 133rd Street.  Then I took a left onto Walnut Avenue, which cuts through the industrial heart of Port Morris and ends at 141st Street.  Normally, I would take Willow Avenue, which parallels Walnut but ends at 138th Street.  

Along Willow Avenue, I pass a great piece of street art.  But on 141st, where I rode this morning, I encountered an even grander (OK, the artists themselves probably wouldn't use such a term!) urban artscape:

Tats Cru is a group of graffiti artists who have become muralists.  Depending on who you ask, they "evolved", "went mainstream" or "sold out".  I suspect that when they reached an age at which they had to support themselves, and possibly others, they took whatever someone was willing to pay for their work.  I can't say I blame them.

What it means is that some of their work, at least, will survive.  And so will they.  I am happy for that.  So many people and things haven't--except in the memories of people who've lived, and cycled, in this city.

Can Silicon Valley Become Amsterdam--In India?

Efforts to get people out of cars and onto bicycles are most commonly associated with European (and, to a lesser extent, North American) cities with relatively young and affluent populations.  Most of them are places that have long been established as regional, national or worldwide centers of commerce, culture and technological innovation.  

Those cities, with a few exceptions like Portland, are relatively compact:  San Francisco, Montreal and New York are hemmed in by water, while European capitals are ringed by long-established, if smaller, municipalities.  In other words, they can't expand, so if people move in, their population densities increase--and housing becomes scarcer and therefore more expensive.  That, as much as anything, puts a damper on the growth in such cities' populations.


Most people don't immediately associate car-to-bike campaigns with rapidly-growing cities in developing, low- to middle-income countries.  If anything, people want to parlay their newfound prosperity, or even flaunt it, with their new automobiles.  That their shiny new machines may spend more time idling in traffic than moving to any particular destination seems not to deter them from getting behind the wheel rather than astride two wheels.

So it is in Bangaluru, known in the English-speaking world as Bangalore.  It's often called "The Silicon Valley of India" for its concentration of high-tech firms, which have drawn migrants from the rest of India. As a result, it's been one of the world's fastest-growing cities and metropolitan areas in the world: The 2011 Census counted 8.4 million residents (about the same number as my hometown of New York) but current estimates say that there are between 10.5 and 12.3 million people living in the city where fewer than 3 million lived in 1981 and only 400,000 took up residence in 1941.

But Bangaluru, like other rapidly-growing cities in developing countries, has even more knotted and chaotic traffic than what one encounters in First World cities.  As I've mentioned before, millions newly middle-class Bangalureans have taken to driving.  The real problem, though, seems to be that the city's roads simply can't handle so much traffic.  They are narrow, and many people won't cycle because they don't want to compete with motorized vehicles for space.  Worse, they are jostling with cars and trucks on the roadway while dodging huge potholes:  Before the boom, there wasn't money for maintenance, but now it's difficult, if not impossible, to keep up with needed repairs.  

The possible model for Bengaluru

So, the city and its regional administration are working on a several-pronged plan that both takes its cues, and learns from the mistakes of, other schemes in the area's cities.  In those places, bike lanes were built but people didn't use them because they weren't useful for getting to wherever they had to go or were simply seen as not much safer than riding on the streets.  Also, Bangaluru planners have learned that city-owned bike share programs have had a number of problems and, as one report put it, while municipalities are good for providing the needed infrastructure, private companies are better at providing share bikes.  A problem with those services, though, has surfaced in cities all over the world, especially in China:  the bikes are left anywhere and everywhere when people are finished with them.  So, a possible solution is to have a company like Yulu or Ofo provide the service, and for the city to build dedicated parking facilities--like lots for cars, only smaller--where people can leave, or pick up, bikes.

Could India's Silicon Valley also become its next Amsterdam?

The Morning After--A Game And A Guy Losing His Shirt

While out riding yesterday, I stopped in Recycle-a-Bicycle's Brooklyn shop.  I left a few things with them that I know I'll never use but they might need some time.  They were happy for it.

Then I told them the real reason why I stopped there:  I figured it's one place where I might find people who care less about the Super Bowl than I do.

Turns out, I was right. Two of the fellows working there didn't even know which teams were playing.  And I was so proud of myself for knowing only that the game pitted the New England Patriots--who, it seems, everyone outside of New England hates--and the Los Angeles Rams, who used to play in St. Louis and before that in Los Angeles.


Today I'm hearing about how "boring" the game was and that some guy took off his shirt during the halftime--and why it was or wasn't OK for him to do that fifteen years after Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction".  Interestingly, I've heard nothing about the advertisements during halftime, which are usually among the most creative, or simply oddest, to be seen on TV.

Me?  I didn't watch, didn't listen. And I rode to work this morning, refreshed, on my bike.  I hope not sound smug, but I thought it ironic that I was getting healthy exercise on my way to the college on the morning after a game when a few dozen guys pounded at each other's bodies for millions of spectators who ate and drank the most unhealthy things imaginable.

Yes, This Really Was A Hot Idea!

In much of the northern United States, last night was the coldest "in more than a generation," according to more than one report I heard.  

I can believe it:  When I rode to work this morning, the temperature was -1F (-18C).  The last time I can recall such a cold commute was in January of 1985, when we had a seemingly endless string of record-cold days.  One morning, according to a journal from that time, I pedaled from my uptown apartment to downtown job--a distance of about 10 miles, or 16 kilometers--when the temperature stood at -4F (-20C).  

Interestingly, just a month later, New York would record its warmest February temperature--75F (24C) ever.  I was visiting my parents, who were living in New Jersey, and rode along the shore--in my shorts!

I have been known to ride in shorts when few other people would.  Today wasn't one of those times.  I didn't wear, or even carry, a skirt and tights:  Instead, I wore a pair of gray dress pants over ski underwear, which I removed when I got to work.

Almost everyone agrees that cycling to work is "healthy", and some insurers will even lower premiums or give bonuses for doing so.  Would my insurer see my riding to work on a day when no one else did the same as "healthy", at least in a physical sense?  Or would they think I needed more mental health coverage?  

All I know is that I felt invigorated--and just really, really good--when I arrived. 

More Bike Lanes, Fewer Commuters

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a Seattle train station where bike parking "sucks".

It may be one of the reasons why the number of Emerald City commuters who get to work by bike fell by 20 percent from 2016 to 2017.

Still, Seattle remains one of the top US cities for bicycle commuting, at least in terms of the percentage of people who say they go by bike.  Its decline was, however, more precipitous than that of the US as a whole, where bicycle commuting fell by 3.2 percent during the same period.

The USA Today article in which I came across these statistics said the declines came in spite of the increasing number of bike lanes and other efforts made by cities to become more "bike friendly".  To be fair, the article also points out that the price of gasoline has dropped during the past several years, which enticed more people to drive.  It also points out, as I pointed out in yesterday's post, that some passengers of Uber, Lyft and other "ride shares" are using those services in lieu of cycling.

One thing the article hinted at is something I've long suspected:  that, in the years before "ride sharing" services became popular, bicycle commuting might have been increasing in dense urban areas, but not in suburban and rural areas.  In the suburbs, as I pointed out in yesterday's post, there isn't bicycle parking at rail and bus stations commuters use to get to their jobs in the city.  And, in rural areas (and outer-ring suburbs), some commutes are simply too long to do by bicycle.  

Here is something else I've noticed:  People who move to the city to be near their jobs are mostly young and making relatively good salaries.  Some of them commute by bicycle, though most take mass transit or "ride shares."  But once they get married and have children, they want to buy houses.  Unless they are making very high salaries, that means moving some distance from the city.

So, my analysis, for what it's worth, goes like this:  Whether bicycle commuting increases or decreases from year to year, it will mainly be a practice of young, affluent and single people in central areas of cities--unless society, the economy and policies change.  Until housing in cities becomes more affordable, and tax policies don't encourage fossil fuel consumption, the typical bike commuter will be putting his or her laptop in the front basket of a bike-share bike he or she will ride to the office.

Bike Parking Sucks Because...

Writing headlines is a skill unto itself.  Some would even argue that it's an artform.  It does, after all, take a certain kind of creativity to come up with something like "Headless Body In Topless Bar."

It might actually be more difficult to come up with a title for an individual article, which is why those who write articles almost never write the titles for them.  (When I wrote for local newspapers, I don't think any of my articles bore titles I created.)  The goal is to create something that encapsulates the article without giving too much away--and fits into whatever space on the page is allotted to it.

So, when I saw the following title, I knew I didn't have to read the article: "Bicycle Parking Sucks at UW Station But Sound Transit Says They're Making It Better."  But I read the article, which appeared on The Stranger, anyway.  One reason, I guess, is that I was looking to confirm a bit of my cynicism: when everyone knows a situation isn't good, some official says they're doing what they can to improve it.  We hear a variation of that theme just about every day here in New York, whether it's in reference to bike lanes, subway service or any number of other aspects of daily life in the Big Bagel.

Still, I'm glad I read the article.  For one thing, it showed me that in Seattle--which was probably the most "bike-friendly" major US city before Portland took that title--people don't ride their bikes for all or even part of their commutes for at least one of the same reasons people in other parts of the US leave their bikes home when they go to work:  There's no secure place to park at the workplace or transit station.  

Now, I know that Seattle is more spread-out than New York or Boston or San Francisco.  But even in those cities, there are areas remote from public transportation.  And, of course, there are people who commute from nearby suburbs.  Many of those commuters drive into the city, but others drive to the station where they take a bus or train into the city.  Some, I am sure, might be enticed to ride their bikes (or to get bikes in the first place) if, on their way home, they knew they could find their bikes intact.

I can see why bicycle parking "sucks" at this station!

In that article, though, there was a twist.  Really, it shouldn't have surprised me, because one of the goals of American urban planning still is (or seems to be) to keep as many motor vehicles as possible moving through a city's streets.  A "creative" solution for "reducing congestion", according to the city's Department of Transportation, is to offer a discount to people who use Uber, Lyft or other "ride share" companies to reach their trains or buses.

Data compiled from New York, Boston, San Francisco, Washington and other large US cities shows that these "ride share" companies have actually increased the number of motor vehicles on the streets.  In New York, as an example, vehicular traffic had actually declined for several years until 2015.  It was around that year that "ride share" services became popular in Gotham.  Since then, traffic has increased.

One reason is that, for the most part, "ride shares" don't replace private automobile trips.  To the contrary, they are used by more affluent customers who don't want the inconvenience of taking the bus or train, or of hailing a taxi.  Also, research indicates that people aren't using Uber or Lyft only to get to work or go to the airport:  They are using these services to go to a movie, the theatre, a restaurant or shop.  Moreover, they might not have made such outings if they'd had to take the subway or bus.

Moreover, surveys indicate that some people are using these services instead of cycling to work, school or shop.  Ironically, some of them decide against cycling because of the traffic to which their Uber or Lyft rides contribute!

Another reason why "ride share" companies don't reduce congestion is the reason why I have been enclosing "ride share" in quotation marks.  Research has confirmed something I've noticed anecdotally:  Most rides are taken by individual customers or couples, most of whom wouldn't dream of sharing a ride with a total stranger.  Moreover, "ride share" drivers spend as much as 60 percent of their time in their cars driving nobody but themselves.  In other words, they drive more to and between "lifts" than to actually transport their passengers.

As long as planners and officials can trot out "ride share" services as a solution to traffic congestion, bike parking--and much else for cyclists--will "suck" in many places.

I Ride My Bike To Release Stress. Really!

Tomorrow I will be thankful for at least one thing:  I didn't have to travel, at least not long-distance, today.  I still commuted, but at least I didn't have to navigate crowded airports or rail terminals.

For the most part, my commute is pretty stress-free, as much of it takes me through Randalls Island.  There are a couple of traffic "hot zones" near the entrance to the RFK-Triborough Bridge and where I cross Bruckner Boulevard, underneath the elevated "express"way.  (I use the quotation marks because I will not call a roadway "express" if the traffic is as likely as not to be at a standstill!)  Those places were more chaotic than usual and, aside from Randalls Island, I saw more traffic--and more Stupid Driver and Stupid Pedestrian Tricks just about everywhere.

So, I could say that my commute today was more stressful than it usually is.  Still, I suppose it's less stressful than being stuck in traffic, and I know it's less stressful than being on a packed subway train.  Even so, I'd say that this morning's commute was one of the more stressful ones I've experienced.  I probably will say the same about my commute home.

Jon Orcutt, a longtime advocate for cycling and urban mobility in general, tweeted about a stressful ride he took.  It didn't take him by the Port Authority Bus Terminal or Penn Station. (When I was a wee thing, I thought the Lord's Prayer pleaded, "And lead us not into Penn Station..") Instead, it led him across Manhattan:

My first run on the West 13th St protected #BikeNYC lane. All in all a pretty classic NYC bike lane experience pic.twitter.com/aXvpRxAfgm

— Jon Orcutt (@jonorcutt) November 20, 2018

Yes, he was on a brand-new "protected" bike lane on the side of 13th Street.  I have experienced things in "protected" bike lanes:  In fact, I had to dodge two trucks pulling in and out of factories, parents dropping off their kids in a pre-school and some impatient driver who thought the Willow Avenue bike path was a passing lane--never mind that it's lined with stanchions:

and that's just in five blocks, from 133rd to 138th Street.  Then, at 138th, I had to turn and make that crossing of Bruckner.

Oh well.  I guess I still got to work less stressed-out than most other commuters--and certainly less stressed-out than anyone who's flying, taking long-distance trains or buses, or driving so they can sit tomorrow with their families and stuff themselves with stuffed turkey and a whole bunch of other stuff.  Then they'll stress themselves over the weight they've gained--and, possibly, about whether they'll get any great bargains on "Black Friday".

Enrigester--ou Laissez-Faire?

Woonsocket, Rhode Island claims it's "la ville plus francaise aux Etats-Unis": the most French city in the United States. In one sense, that's true:  An estimated 46 percent  of its residents  are of French or French-Canadian heritage. It's believed that proportion is higher in Woonsocket (Don't you just love saying that name?) than in any other US municipality.  Moreover, the city is home to the American-French Genealogical Society.

But of all cities in the States, the one with the most French influence is undoubtedly New Orleans.  You can see it in the food, architecture, street names and the pace of life:  Gallic joie de vivre combined with Southern languor.  And while other US states are divided into counties, Louisiana, where New Orleans is located, consists of parishes:  a remnant of the region's French Catholic colonial past.  For that matter, the city's and state's codes bear more semblance to France's (or Quebec's) Civil Codes than to the Common Law-derived jurisprudence found in the rest of America.

Interestingly, it seems that the former colony and the former coloniser could go in opposite directions, at least in one area of bicycle policy.

Yesterday, "N'awlins" (All right, I'm a New Yorker but I don't say "Noo Yawk".  So this is the last time I'll pronounce New Orleans as a contraction!) announced that bicycle registration is no longer mandatory--except for rental bicycles.  The city will still offer registration; however, it will be voluntary and the fee will rise from $3 to $5 on New Year's Day.

What spurred the change, according to local advocates, is the $1000 in fines levied against musician Kevin Louis when he rode his "raggedy old" bike to buy a pack of cigarettes in the wee hours of morning.  Others have suggested, though, that the process for registering too often proved to be cumbersome, especially for those who couldn't provide a sales receipt or other proof of purchase for their wheels.  Examples include bikes purchased at yard sales or passed down between family members or friends--or, say, a bike someone gave away when he or she was moving.

But I believe there are also other reasons for the repeal.  One is the laissez-faire Southern attitude.  Remember, the city and state are deep in a part of the nation where the Second Amendment (or, at least a particular interpretation of it) is as sacred a document as the Gospels or the book of Leviticus.  People there really don't like governments telling them what to do; for them, having to register anything reeks of "Big Brother."

A more legitimate argument, however, was raised by other people.  Whenever any jurisdiction implements bike registration, a stated purpose is invariably to combat bike theft.  Registration supposedly deters at least some thieves, and makes it more likely that stolen bikes will be returned to their owners.

While there is no way to verify the first claim, one would expect that registration might deter casual thieves or "crimes of opportunity".  On the other hand, while some bikes in New Orleans and other places have been returned as a result of registration, the chances that you will ever see your bike again if it's nicked is depressingly small.

Yet, another jurisdiction--a nation, in fact--is making the arguments about theft deterrence and returning stolen bikes as it proposes a bike registration program.  It's part of a Plan Velo that, if implemented, would take effect in France in 2020.  Each frame would be marked with a number registered in a national database, much as motor vehicles are.

Other parts of the plan include installing secure bicycle parking facilities at SNCF (the French national rail system) stations, creating more widespread networks of bicycle lanes, offering employer-disbursed incentives for employees who ride their bikes to work.  (Similar subsidies are offered for those who use mass transit.)  It also would provide for bicycle classes in elementary schools.

While few doubt that building infrastructure and offering financial incentives could entice some commuters out of their cars and onto bikes, it's legitimate to question whether bicycle registration will actually help, as its proponents claim, to curb bicycle theft.  In fairness, some people, especially in cities, might be more willing to pedal to work if they felt confident they would still have their bikes at the end of the work day.

It's always interesting to see what happens when nations and their former colonies forge very different solutions to a problem.  Could 64 million French people really not be wrong?  Or do 393,292  folks in The Big Easy have the right idea?

What would they do in Woonsocket?