"Wear A Bloody Helmet!"

Tomorrow will mark a decade since a black cat (really!) ran into my front wheel, glanced off it and darted away.

While that encounter resulted in some bruises and fatigue that kept me from riding for a couple of days, neither I nor my bike was seriously damaged.

Christian Reeves

Christian Reeves wasn't so lucky. As he pedaled to work on 30 July, two cats fought in an alleyway.  That confrontation was captured on CCTV before Reeves rounded a corner and, apparently, scared them.  They darted into his path:  one under his front tire, the other under the rear.  The impact launched him off his bike and onto the pavement--headfirst.  He suffered a severe brain injury.  In spite of an operation and having "fought a very hard battle," according to his son Dominic, the 52-year-old Rugby (UK) resident passed away on 5 August.

As valiant as his battle to stay alive, and as skilled as the surgeons, may have been, Dominic says one thing could have ensured that his father would still be with him today.  So he is imploring cyclists to do what his Dad didn't:  "Wear a bloody helmet!"

   

An Ode To Her Helmet

 The next time I take a trip to some exotic locale, I will pack a helmet.  Whether I bring a bike of my own, or rent locally (as I did on my most recent trips to France, Italy, Greece, Cambodia and Laos), I will wear my “shell,” even if it gives me away as a tourist.

The young man I encountered a few days ago is fine.  His mother and sister say that they’ll make sure he’s covered when he rides again.  I offered mine—I explained that I have two others and could’ve taken the subway home to avoid riding bareheaded—but they said he already has one but just wouldn’t wear it.

I can say that wearing a helmet saved me on more than one occasion.  In one instance, the emergency room doctor told me as much. In another, two decades earlier, I was fine even though (or possibly because) my helmet (rather than my head) broke in two.

I think Lou Ness would concur with my assessment of the value of helmets.

They Make Us Less Human

 Recently, Melissa Harris-Perry recalled cracking open a watermelon and, finding it un-ripe, left it for her chicken to nibble. She watched them from her porch, her hair wrapped in a scarf.  “I was probably somebody’s stereotype of a Black woman,” she quipped.

Had she sported the kind of hairdo Jennifer Aniston wore during her first few years on “Friends” or a designer suit, someone would have accused her of trying to be White.

Likewise, I have been accused of “overdoing “ it when I simply dressed as a woman my age might and condemned for fitting the same people’s stereotype of a trans woman even, if I say so myself, I have done no such thing since the first couple of years of my gender affirmation process.

So, I had a sense of deja vu when I read about an Australian study in which 30 percent of respondents said they saw cyclists as “less human” when they wore helmets, reflective vests or other safety gear

Photo by Robert Peri

Why does this matter? If the history of racism, sexism, homo- or trans-phobia showsl us anything, people are more likely to behave more aggressively toward those they regard as not-quite-human, or less human than themselves. 

In other words, it’s easier to rationalize violence against someone when the victim can be reduced to a stereotype, or de-humanized in some other way.

The findings of the Australian study, however, show (even if it wasn’t the intent of the researchers) that cyclists are in a Catch-22 situation.  If we wear safety gear, we’re less human and violence or simply carelessness against us is justifiable or, at least, excusable. But if we aren’t wearing helmets and day-glo vests (or even if we are), we are blamed even if the driver downed a whole bottle of vodka and drove at double the speed limit.

A Winning Look?

A politician fears that his campaign will suffer if he doesn't wear a bicycle helmet.

No, that's not an April Fool's joke.  A local assembly member who wants a seat in the assembly is visiting his constituents in his small district.  Its narrow streets and alleyways are more navigable on two wheels than four.

By now, you may have realized that the politician is not running for office in the United States.  In Japan, it's not unusual to solicit votes, at least in local elections, on a bicycle.  In fact, it's not unusual, from what I understand, to go anywhere by bicycle in the Land of the Rising Sun.  But, until recently, wearing helmets isn't the norm that it is in much of North America.

The headgear situation is about to change, however,  in the Pacific nation.  Today a new rule saying that cyclists should try to wear a helmet goes into effect. 

Note the way I described the new rule.  It's been said that Italians treat laws as suggestions, but Japanese people don't need laws because they feel such a sense of duty to authority.  So, while the rule doesn't prescribe penalties for not wearing helmets, it's expected that people--especially public figures--will comply.

So, the fellow campaigning for a campaign seat knows that if he shows up bareheaded on a bicycle, he will not be setting a good example.  On the other hand, if he wears a helmet and other candidates don't, his will arrive with his hair a mess while other candidates are well-coiffed.  

Oh, and when he put on his helmet, his kids laughed at him.  But, in such a duty-bound country with such strong family ties, I imagine they would vote for him anyway.

Sans Casque?

In the sweep of history, four years isn't even the blink of an eye. But, even at my age--when you start to think of people within fifteen years or so of your own age as your peers--four years, especially if they're anything like the ones that have just passed, can seem like a geological age.

I'll spare you the cliche that "we are living in a different world" from that of 2019. (OK, since I've mentioned it, I didn't spare you from it, did I?) I have seen changes in my Astoria, New York neighborhood and in the city as a whole.  The passage of time, however, seems all the more sweeping when you return to a place you haven't seen in a while, especially if that place doesn't change as much or as quickly as your own environs.

While Paris is a modern city in terms of technology and infrastructure, its overall appearance doesn't change nearly as dramatically as that of New York in any given period of time.  You can count on returning to a building you saw in the City of Light four, fourteen or forty years ago.  Even some of the stores, restaurants and cafes you remember will be there if you return.  So, perhaps, that quality makes any change  all the more striking.

In my case, I couldn't help but to notice how many more people were on bikes than I saw during previous visits.  I'd heard and read that many people took to riding--for transportation, recreation and fitness--during the pandemic.  Apparently, they stayed in the saddle.  Of course that makes me happy.  I also noticed, on the other hand, e-bikes and scooters, which were nowhere to be seen the year before the pandemic.  I saw the proliferation of those vehicles in New York as the first weeks and months of the pandemic turned into years, but in Paris, it seemed as if they were all superimposed on the image I had of the city from the last time I saw it. 

One thing hasn't changed, though:  Almost no scooter-rider or cyclist, whether of the completely human-powered or electric variety, was wearing a helmet.  I admit that I didn't wear one, either:  It's not the easiest thing to pack, especially if you're traveling only with a carry-on bag.  But somehow I didn't feel as vulnerable or exposed as I do when I leave my apartment avec velo, sans casque.

I got to thinking about that when I came across this article. It points out, correctly, that the obsession with helmet-wearing is mainly an American one.  As the article's author, Marion Renault, points out, few cyclists in the Netherlands don the plastic and foam shells.  One reason, according to Renault, is that the Dutch feel safer while riding:  Their infrastructure lends itself to safe cycling to a much greater degree than what we have in the 'States.  Also, Dutch drivers' awareness and attitudes towards cyclists are very different from those of their American counterparts.

Something similar could be said, I think, for Paris and France, if to a lesser degree. Certainly, I felt safer, whether I was riding on a protected lane or in traffic.  About the latter:  Even though Paris streets are narrower than those in New York, I felt as if I had more room to maneuver.  Most likely, that had something to do with the fact that vehicles are smaller and lower to the street:  You don't often see anything like America's best-selling vehicle class: the Ford F-Series, which weighs 7500 pounds and has a hood that stands four and a half feet tall--about the height of an adult's chin.

That brings me to another point Renault makes:  most helmet testing does not, and cannot, measure the impact of a collision between such a vehicle and a cyclist.  For one thing, it's all but impossible to replicate such conditions in a laboratory.  There are more variables in such collisions than there are in, say, a clash between (American) football players.  

One of those variables, as I implied earlier, is the driver him or her self.  When I was doored two years ago, a nurse in the emergency room declared, "Good thing you were wearing your helmet."  While that was probably true, I would have been safer had the driver glanced out her window and seen me on the other side before she opened her door. I think a lot of French and Dutch riders would agree.  They also know that having good bike lanes, room to maneuver and traffic regulations that makes sense do at least as much as any piece of protective gear to promote their safety:  Their cyclists' rates of injury and death are much lower than those of their American counterparts.

So, if and when I return to Paris or Amsterdam, or anyplace else in France or the Netherlands, will I see as few cyclists wearing helmets as I saw during the trip I just took?

Will It Make Helmet Wearing More Palatable?

In Colson Whitehead's The Nickel Boys, one of the title characters, Turner, is taken in by Mavis and Ishmael, an aunt and uncle after his father abandons the family and his mother's alcoholism renders her incapable of caring for him.  One day, he got between the Mavis and Ishmael when they fought.  Ishmael then took him to an ice cream parlour and told the attendant, "Bring this young man the biggest sundae you got."  To Turner, "every bite felt like a sock in the mouth." Later experiences--including time in "The Nickel Academy," a segregated juvenile "reform school" in Florida--reinforced his belief that "adults are always trying to buy off children to make them forget their bad actions" and leads him to a lifelong hatred of ice cream.

So it will be interesting to see what comes of what a fire department in upstate New York is doing.

Let's face it:  Most people don't like wearing helmets.  I, like other cyclists, wear one because I know the benefits firsthand:  When I crashed two years ago, the doctor told me that it would have been much worse if I hadn't been wearing mine.  In another incident years earlier, I flipped over and landed in a way that broke the helmet in half but left me just barely scratched.

And when a kid wears a helmet, it's almost always because a parent or some other adult made them wear it. 

In Brownville, the firefighters have teamed up with Lickety Split, a local ice cream shop, to promote safety.   As LS owner Eric Symonds explained, when a kids is"caught" by a firefighter or Symonds wearing a helmet, they'll get a certificate for a free kiddie ice cream.

When I read about it, I couldn't help but to think about Turner. After all, the ice cream--which most kids who aren't Turner love--is being offered as a reward for something they wouldn't normally do on their own.  Also, I wondered how they might feel about the promotion, knowing what prompted it:  the death of  a local boy whose bike hit truck towing a trailer.  

That said, I applaud Symond's and the fire department's effort, which will begin today and give out 100 certificates.

It's All On My Head

If you are my age or older, you may have ridden with a "leather hairnet."  Similar to the headgear worn by US football players until the 1950s, they were a lattice of foam-filled straps that might have prevented a scrape or two in a minor crash but probably were useless in a headlong fall or impact with a motor vehicle.

I had one such helmet in my youth. (Yes, believe it or not, I had one of those.) But I never wore it because it was too cumbersome and hot.  I had those same complaints when I first started wearing a hardhat--  a later-version Bell "turtle shell" nearly four decades ago--but have covered my head while riding ever since.

My "hairnet" disappeared into the mists of history. Actually, I think I lost it during a move.  I got to thinking about it when I came across this:

Why Don't They Protect Us?

 Helmets are for sissies.

I actually said that once.  Of course, that meant I would soon don the best head protection available at the time:  the Bell "turtleshell."  At that time, I told myself that a real man can indeed wear something more substantial than a Team Peugeot cap on his head.  But, of course, that wasn't the real reason why I--a manque transgender woman--wore a cranial shield.

In time, most cyclists I'd ride with in clubs, training or races would wear them, too.  Women, it seemed, were more willing, even if they were worried about messing up their hair.

Well, I just learned something I never expected:  Women may have less reason to wear helmets.  Now, I'd like to think because we're tougher and more resilient, or because we have so much more brain matter that we can afford to lose a little.  

From Femmecyclist

The real reason, though, is that helmets may do less for us than they do for men.  According to a recent study, although we're more likely than men to wear helmets, we have higher rates of serious head injury (in spite of less head injury overall).

What accounts for this difference? The study posits that it can be one of two things:  sex disparity in helmet-testing standards or "intrinsic incompatiblity between available helmets and female anatomy."  

This reminds me of the "female problem" in medicine:  Most of what doctors and other medical professionals learn is based on studies done on males.  So the data is biased; so is the perspective of doctors. Most standards for everything from blood pressure readings to medication dosages are thus based on data gleaned from studies done on men.

I know that many women have difficulty finding helmets (and other apparel and equipment) that fit them.  I wonder whether the helmet issue has to do, not only with the differences in size and shape between women's and men's craniums, but also in the ways our heads move and balance on our bodies.

His Research Confirms It

Two weeks ago, I wrote "Are Helmets An Issue of Racial and Economic Justice?"  In it, I described a perhaps-unintentional consequence of laws mandating helmets:  Black, Hispanic and Native American cyclists are far more likely to be ticketed for infractions than White or Asian cyclists.  That begs the question of whether non-white or -Asian cyclists are less likely to wear helmets and of why some don't wear them.

One answer to the latter question is economics:  Nonwhite cyclists are more likely to be poor, or even homeless, and riding bikes they bought for very little, inherited or rescued from a dumpster.  People don't buy a helmet if they can't, or can just barely, afford a bike.

Cyclist pedals by the Suzzallo Library (Photo by Nicole Pasia)

But the question of whether some groups of people are less compliant than others is still open.  Ethan C. Campbell might have an answer--or, at least a reason for a non-answer.

He is a doctoral student at the University of Washington and a member of advocacy group Central Seattle Greenways.  As part of his research, he has been working on an infractions analysis of tickets issued to Seattle cyclists from 2003 to 2020.  So far, he's learned that Black cyclists were cited for helmet-related infractions at 3.8 times the rate of White cyclists.  For Native American and Alaska Native cyclists, that rate is 2.2 times.  On the other hand, Asian and Pacific Islander cyclists were cited at only 10 percent of White cyclists.  

(I could find no mention of Hispanic cyclists.  Perhaps they are not as statistically significant as they are in cities like New York.  From what I've heard and read, Native Americans and Alaska Natives are a larger percentage of the population than they are in other US cities.)

To be fair, the disparities are more egregious in other cities:  In Washington, DC, for example, Black cyclists were almost ten times as likely to be stopped as White cyclists, while that ratio in Oakland, CA is five times.  

While Campbell's findings are important, he admits there are two significant problems in compiling and analyzing them.  First of all, it's difficult, without someone sitting on a corner with a counter, to gauge each demographic group's share of bike trips in Seattle.  (And, I might add, some people's racial and ethnic heritage is not easily idenitifiable.)  For another, says Campbell, "we don't know the demographic of who wears a helmet."  In other words, does the fact that certain groups of people are cited for violating a law actually mean that they are more likely to violate said law.

(Memories of my youth--which, I admit might be a bit hazy (ha, ha) give me an answer of "NO!":  While the white students I knew in college were more likely to smoke weed, black "townies" were more likely to be busted for it!)

Even with those questions, Campbell's research confirms that if you're Black or Native American or Alaska Native in the Seattle area, you're more likely to get a ticket for not wearing a helmet.  That reflects realities in other parts of the US, some of which I've witnessed:  Almost everyone who's cited for riding on a sidewalk in New York City is non-White or -Asian. 

And, of course, Black, Hispanic, Native American and Alaska Natives are less able to pay for the tickets they receive--which leads to all sorts of other inequalities.

Are Helmets An Issue Of Racial And Economic Justice?

 Four decades after helmet-wearing became widespread among cyclists, at least here in the US, helmet laws and regulations remain controversial.  Medical experts are all but unanimous in recommending helmets, citing their efficacy in preventing brain injury (something to which I can attest).  So, most doctors and surgeons favor requirements to wear head protection.

On the other hand, not all cyclists favor such regulations. I admit that sometimes I miss the wind through my hair, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way.  But I want to keep on riding, so I am willing to sacrifice that to keep my brain intact. And, as much as I respect this country's Constitution, with all of its flaws, I don't buy civil libertarian arguments against helmet laws--which some cyclists voiced years ago but I rarely hear anymore. (That, of course, may be a consequence of where I live and the people I normally see.)  Still, I am conflicted about helmet laws.  I certainly encourage cyclists to wear helmets, but I also understand that laws have unintended consequences.

One such outcome has played out in the Seattle area.  In a way, as upsetting as it is, it shouldn't come as a surprise because it's a result of a pernicious, pervasive problem:  the unequal enforcement of the law. 

If you are, or are perceived as, a member of any "minority" group, whether by race, gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or socio-economic class, you are more likely to be cited for minor infractions--or for no infraction at all--than other people are.  (Yes, it's happened to me.)  Turns out, one such minor infraction can be riding bareheaded in places with helmet laws.   And, if you are a member of a "minority" group, that citation for a minor infraction is more likely to turn into a major fine or even a jail sentence, just as a cut is more likely to turn into an infection or something more serious if you don't have the means to treat it.

The key word here is "means."  "Folks aren't riding around without helmets because it's fun," according to Edwin Lindo.  "They're doing it because helmets aren't cheap."  Lindo, who identifies as Central American Indigenous, started the NorthStar Cycling Club to support Indigenous, Black and other cyclists of color in the Seattle area.  He was referring to Seattle Municipal Court statistics showing that while an estimated 4.7 percent of the city's cyclists are Black, they receive 17.3 percent of the summonses for not wearing helmets.  For Native American and Alaska Native cyclists, those numbers are 0.5 and 1.1 percent, respectively.

Edwin Lindo

For this reason, and others, Lindo and other activists encourage helmet-wearing but want Seattle to repeal its mandatory helmet law.  They cite the experience of Tacoma, which repealed its own helmet law, because it was, if unintentionally, reflecting the racial and other disparities in law enforcement.

One of the other disparities is economic:  Homeless and poor people are also disproportionately cited for not wearing helmets.  As often as not, they are riding bikes that were acquired for little or nothing.  So, they don't have funds to pay for buy a helmet--or pay for a ticket when they're cited for not wearing one.

So, the question of wearing helmets raises a question the COVID-19 pandemic has brought up:  How does a society promote the health and safety of the greatest number of people without exacerbating racial and economic inequities?

What Kind Of Protection Do You Want?

I've seen bike helmets that don't have vents.  I simply can't imagine riding one:  Even with my latticework casque, I sweat when the temperature or humidity rises.

On the other hand, those vents let in the cold and rain.  The former isn't such a problem as long as you can fit a balaclava, beanie or some other form-fitting form of insulation under your helmet.

The rain is another story.  I've worn shower caps or even plastic bags under my helmets.  They're fine for keeping your head dry, but not very comfortable when it's warm and raining.

And, even if you keep your head dry, there's still the rest of you.  Do you wear a full rain suit?  A poncho?  Or do you need only to cover your shoulders and upper torso?

Hmm...Maybe this headgear could be made to ANSI specifications.

Could it also be made with a COVID mask--or even one of the face shields I've seen on a few people?

How Strong Does A Helmet Need To Be?

Current bike helmet testing procedures are fairly rudimentary.

That statement comes from two Swedish companies whose names are associated with safety.  One is well-recognized by Americans:  Volvo. I can recall when the company's ads included the claim that their cars were "the safest" on the road.  The other is POC, which makes helmets for cycling as well as other sports.

They have a point:  Most helmet tests "involve being dropped from different heights on either a flat or an angled surface" and might mimic low-speed falls onto curbs.  They do not, as Volvo and POC state, "take into account vehicle-to-bike accidents."

Previously, the two companies collaborated, along with Ericsson,  on another project aimed at making cyclists safer in the presence of cars.  In January 2015, they exhibited a prototype of a car-and-helmet system created to warn Volvo drivers and cyclists of their proximity to each other which, the creators believed, would prevent crashes.  That system, however, was not developed commercially.  As noble as the intentions of its creators may have been, such a system is fairly useless--unless, of course, the car and helmet have compatible systems.  That would be the case for the small percentage of drivers and cyclists (outside Sweden and a few other countries, anyway) who drive Volvos and wear POC helmets.



Now, a helmet that can withstand a collision with an automobile might be more practical. Still, I think it's fair to ask:  How much more practical is it?  Are there any studies that show how many collisions involve the cyclist's head slamming against the hood (or some other part) of a moving car or other motor vehicle?  

If a cyclist is run down from behind by a motorist who blew through a red light (as happened to Frank Scofield), how likely is it that the cyclist's head will make contact with the vehicle?   I can't help but to think that in such a collision, or the one that took the lives of five Michigan cyclists three years ago, helmets, no matter how strong, might not have made the difference between death and life, or prevented permanent injuries.

Don't get me wrong: I am in favor of making helmets safer.  But I also think they should be designed to protect cyclists in the conditions they have the greatest chance of encountering.  If someone can show me that a helmet made to withstand impacts with motor vehicles  can prevent , or could have prevented, fatalities in a significant number of crashes, then I'm all for what Volvo and POC are trying to do. Otherwise, I have to wonder just how useful it actually is.

I'm Such A Rulebreaker, Sort Of...

I wear a helmet when I ride.  Well, most of the time, I do.  Whatever the naysayers might say, I have had two occasions when wearing my helmet probably, if not saved my life, then at least prevented serious injury.  In the second of those incidents, my helmet actually broke in two but I escaped with only a few scratches.

I admit, though, that I've ridden bareheaded, even after those incidents.  When I ride in Florida, I don't wear a helmet:  Even on cool days, most riders, it seems, aren't wearing them. And on my recent trips to Paris, Rome, Cambodia and Laos, I went sans casque, except on the Grasshopper tour in Siem Reap.  I think the only reason we had those is that Grasshopper tours is run by Westerners and was probably covered (pun intended) by insurance regulations in the US or someplace else.  Otherwise, in Southeast Asian countries, I'm not sure I could have even found a helmet: I didn't see any in the bike shops I peeked into, let alone the bike stalls of the market places. 

In the Italian capital, I followed the age-old advice: Do as the Romans do.  I did the same in Paris, which meant that in both cities I didn't wear helmets.  It wouldn't have been hard to find a hardhat in either city:  In fact, some rental services offer them. But it seemed that no one else was wearing them, so I didn't.

So, even though I have had occasions in which wearing a helmet might have saved me, I am still hesitant to support laws requiring every cyclist to wear one.  We don't have such a law here in New York, though every once in a while some police officer tickets an unsuspecting rider who isn't wearing one. In some places, like New Jersey, helmets are mandatory for kids; a few other places require them for adults.  But even though helmet-wearing has become more or less the norm in much of the US, there are still relatively few places that require it.

I am more ready, however, to support another ban:  one on headphones, at least ones that cover the ear.   Right now, the city of Washington, DC forbids cycling with headphones.  So do a few other jurisdictions; more, however, do not allow motorists to drive with mini-speakers covering their ears.

Now some startup company, Conduit Sports, has come out with a headphone that doesn't cover the ear and block the ear canal.  Its creators say their device allows for "situational awareness". By that, I assume they mean that you can hear horns and other traffic sounds while you listen to Cardi B or Brockhampton.  

Riding with such headphones may well be safe.  Still, I'll stick to riding without them, or without any other audio stimulation other than what's provided by my surroundings when I ride. Even if I'm doing a ride I can do in my sleep, I prefer to hear what's around me, in part because it helps me to think, meditate or simply relax while riding.  Also, I reckon it's safer than riding even with those new headphones.

But I'll still wear my helmet. Most of the time, anyway.

What If We'd Worn Them?

If you're of my generation, you didn't wear a bike helmet when you were a kid.  But, if you have kids, you probably are making them wear helmets when they ride--at least if you're in the US.

That got me to wondering:  What would our childhoods have been like if we wore bike helmets?

From Pixabay

Yes, You Should Wear A Helmet. Really!

As you probably know (at least, if you read this blog), I wear a helmet when I ride.  Well, most of the time:  Once in a great while, I forget my helmet when I leave my apartment. And, I'll admit, while riding in Paris, Montreal and Prague, the denizens of those fair cities got to see the full, blazing glory of my hair in the wind when I pedaled up and down their boulevards and alleys.  For that matter, I let the sun and wind play with my mane while riding during visits with my parents in Florida.

So, although I encourage people to wear helmets, I don't excoriate people for not wearing them.  If nothing else, I try not to be a hypocrite!

Also, I think about all of the years I rode without a helmet. During my childhood, bike helmets were unheard-of.  When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager, the only helmets were those "leather hairnets" you sometimes see in old photos.  I figured they would be about as useful in accidents as nail clippers are for cutting diamonds.    

Yes, I survived, bareheaded, through all of those years and all of those miles.  So did lots of other people.  That is the argument some still make against helmet wearing.  Another is that helmets "can't protect you against everything".  To anyone who says that, I say, "You've got a point."  To which Groucho Marx might add, "You should put a hat over it."  Or a helmet?

Anyway, helmets certainly offer protection.  To wit:

In Pink

One week ago today, I marched with about a million (depending on whose count you believe) other people in Manhattan.  If you saw that demonstration, or the ones in Washington and many other cities around the world, you probably noticed that many of the marchers wore "Pink Pussy" hats.  

They make for a great statement.  And, if the day ever comes when we don't need to make such a statement, they'll be a lot of fun to wear.  They might even be seen as adorably goofy.

Someone suggested making a bike helmet to match.  Hmm...They certainly would be visible.  Let's hope that if it's ever made, it doesn't look like this:

C-Preme Raskullz Sparklez Peace Love Kitty Helmet

or end up with a name like that!

After You Make Your Pie...

When should you replace your helmet?

Giro, the manufacturer of the helmets I currently ride, recommends getting a new helmet every three years.    MET, an Italian constructor of cranial caskets, says that a helmet should be good for eight years after the date it's manufactured.  The Bicycle Helmet Safety Institute, on the other hand,says that while the rumors about sweat and sunlight degrading helmets aren't true (in the case of sweat) or exaggerated (in the case of sunlight), five years is a "reasonable" lifespan for the helmet of a cyclist who rides thousands of miles a year.

So, according to Giro, both of my helmets should be replaced (coincidence?) and the folks at BHSI would tell me that replacing mine would be a good idea.  According to MET's recommendations, one of my helmets should be retired, while the other has a year and a half or so left.

Giro, MET, BHSI and every other helmet-maker and safety organization of which I'm aware say that you if you crash your helmet, it should be replaced.  Some say that dropping it onto a hard surface is reason enough to consign it to the scrap heap.

I actually had planned to replace my helmets in the spring. About two weeks ago, I bought two new helmets, both Giros, that were on sale.  (This, it seems, is the best time of year to buy a helmet, as retailers are clearing out this year's stock to make room for wares from the new model year.)  Soon, I'm going to toss the older of my current helmets.  I'll replace the fitting pads in the other with thinner ones so I can ride it with winter headgear underneath.

I got a really good deal on the new helmets.  Still, before I bought them, I wish I'd known about this:

From Alienation Bicycle Components

I would love to read the report if Snell or the American Society for Testing and Materials did a crash test on pumpkins.  Do the kinds of patterns you carve in them affect their structural integrity?

Happy Halloween!