No Honor For Cheaters—And Thieves

 Not many people feel sympathy for Lance Armstrong these days. I admit that I am not part of that minority—at least, most of the time.

The news I heard today, however, sparks a twinge of empathy for him.  We now have at least one thing in common, aside from riding bicycles:  we have had our mounts stolen.

Turns out, one Ethan Harris has pleaded* guilty to theft of property between $30,000 and $150,000 and burglary of a building—for stealing some of the disgraced racer’s bikes from a storage unit in Austin.

A

Armstrong and Harris 

Apparently, there is still a market among collectors for anything related to the rider w hose seven Tour de France victories were vacated.

*—Is it “pleaded” or “pled?” I used the former in keeping with the report I read.

Not The Way To Deal With A Flat Tire

 

In Ladri di Biciclette—known in the English-speaking world as “Bicycle Thieves” or “The Bicycle Thief”—protagonist Antonio Ricci’s bicycle, which he needs in order to do his job, is stolen.  After a futile search, he sees an unattended bicycle and jumps on it. 

Of course, there is even more to the story. But if there is a “point,” it may be that conventional morality breaks down when people are desperate, as Antonio and so many other people were in war-ravaged Rome. That is a reason why I and many other viewers have felt some sympathy for him that we wouldn’t feel for other bike thieves.

Then again, most bike thieves don’t have a motive nearly as laudable, or at least socially acceptable, as that of Antonio, who is simply trying to feed his family. Most thieves’ goal is to sell the bike or its parts, locally or abroad, whether for themselves or a ring or gang in which they work.

Then there is the fellow in New Zealand who saw an unlocked bike in front of a supermarket and took off on it.

Why?  Because his own bike got a flat tire.

Matthew Gallatly has since pleaded guilty and been sentenced to community service and to pay for the insurance excess. The judge lauded him for owning up to his misdeed but said there is “no excuse” for it.

They Stole A Bike—And What Else?

 If you have ever had a bike stolen, bicycle thieves might seem like the most depraved individuals.

While pilfering Peugeots and Pogliaghis might be some crooks’ métier, others no doubt steal other things. This makes sense when you realize that many bike thefts are crimes of opportunity and the end-game is to sell the bike, whether whole in parts. The same could be said for the filching of other items like jewelry.

I have to wonder, however, about the two perps who entered, without permission, a New Orleans apartment complex on 18 July. They stole a bicycle—and a package containing the remains of a deceased person.

Surveillance images from NOPD

While I deplore stealing bikes, I can understand why thieves do it: Bicycles are relatively easy to swipe and sell. I cannot, on the other hand, comprehend a motive for taking someone’s remains. Could it be that the partners in crime took the package simply because it was there and didn’t realize what was inside? Or was there some more complicated motive that involved, say, revenge or simply harassment against a particular person?

Whatever the explanation may be, a bicycle and a package of human remains has to be one of the strangest combinations of theft I—and, possibly, the police officers investigating the case—have ever heard of.

Tour Team Bikes Stolen

 As too many of us know too well, bicycles are among the most easily- and therefore commonly-stolen items. Usually, when a lower-priced bike is taken, it’s a crime of opportunity. But when an expensive machine is pilfered, it more than likely been targeted, whether by an individual or someone working for a gang or other group that steals and sells bikes.

The latter scenario probably explains the theft of 11 bicycles valued at around 150000 Euros (about 163000 USD) from a team mechanic’s van in Le Lorian, a resort in the Massif Central of France.

Some of those bikes were spares for riders on the French Total Energies team. Others—possibly including the Anthony Turgis, rode to victory in Stage 9 earlier this week—were riders’ “best” bikes.

Anthony Turgis (from Getty Images)

 Other teams are helping TE build replacements, which is difficult without the mechanics’ tools.

I have to wonder why—or whether—TE was targeted. Most of those bikes were Enve Melees which, even if they were sold (as most high-end stolen bikes are) for a fraction of their retail value, would net a hefty profit. 

Or is there someone who doesn’t want French riders like Turgis to win more stages—or the entire Tour for the first time since Bernard Hinault achieved his fifth Tour victory in 1985?

Could it be that some unscrupulous collector placed an order for Enve Melees or bikes ridden by Tour riders?

Whatever the case, the team’s riders and leaders say it’s just part of life and they’ll soldier on.

Bike Thieves Prey On Crash Victim

The late, great Tom Cuthbertson--author of "Anybody's Bike Book" and "Bike Tripping"--wrote that stealing a bike from someone who loves and depends on it is one of the lowest things one human being can do to another.

As someone who loves and depends on my bikes, I agree.  But I also believe that some forms of bike theft are lower than others.  

On 23 February, some time between 5:30 and 6:30 pm local time, a young cyclist fell off his Carerra Vengeance mountain bike and suffered serious injuries.

Two men in their 20s stopped by on the premise of helping him.  They did indeed help him to his feet and waited with him until medical help arrived.  They were not, however, the Good Samaritans they pretended to be.  The victim's vulnerability became an opportunity for them to get a free bike--which they took with them as they fled into the York (UK) city centre.

A police spokesperson is urging anyone who might have information to contact Constable Eleanor Stevens.  

Some People Just Can’t Stop

 When I wrote for a newspaper, a cop told me that he and other officers catch many criminals because they trip themselves up. One common way, he told me, is that the perps try to commit the same crime again.  This is particularly true, he said, of thieves.

Such was the fate of a would-be two-time bike thief in University Circle, Ohio.  A man caught him in the act of trying to steal his girlfriend’s bike.

The crook was on a bike: the one he stole from the man a month earlier.  He was arrested and oh, by the way, had a warrant for his arrest—for yet another theft case.

Stolen In San Francisco, Fenced In Mexico

 

A San Jose automotive shop owner’s appearance in court has confirmed something many of us have long suspected.

From April 2020 until April 2021, a series of residential burglaries in SanFrancisco targeted bicycles costing between $3000 and $9000. Those machines were brought to Victorio Romero’s shop, where they were photographed and disassembled before they were sent to a co-conspirator in Jalisco, Mexico.

That co-conspirator re-assembled the bikes and used a virtual private network (VPN) to ensure that only people in Mexico could see his Facebook advertisements.

According to accounts the co-conspirator kept —from which Romero took a share of the profits—the bikes sold, on average, for $1000.

Romero has been charged with one count of conspiracy to transport goods in foreign commerce, which carries a maximum sentence of five years in prison. In addition, he been charged with two counts of transportation of stolen goods in foreign commerce. Each of those charges carries a maximum sentence of ten years. 

So, Romero faces up to 25 years in prison. The court may also order him to pay a fine and restitution. Once he is released, the court could also order an additional term of supervised release.

He has been released on bond to reappear in court on 10 April.

They Had It Coming To Them: They Weren't Wearing Helmets

I can recall a time when, if a woman or girl were sexually assaulted, people would ask, "What was she wearing?" or "What was she doing out at that time?"  It didn't matter if the woman or girl in question was clad in combat fatigues or on her way to or from school or work in broad daylight. Somehow, she would be turned into the provacatress.

There are still people who think that way.  Sometimes I think they're the same people who ask what someone "was doing" to cause the police to stop them for driving/bike riding/running/walking/breathing while Black.  

Or believe that a cyclist who's run down by a motorist or whose bike is stolen must have done something "unsafe."  I can't begin to count how many times people told me I had to be "more careful" after I was doored:  Never mind I was right next to the car door when the driver opened it and had no way of anticipating or avoiding her carelessness.

Now, of course, if someone makes such a comment on road.cc, you can almost bet that it's a sarcasm.  The problem is that one person's sarcasm is another person's misperception. 

I am thinking now of  the response of "hawkinspeter"  to an article about two 13-year-olds who were "deliberately driven at" and verbally threatened by someone who stole the bikes they were riding.  "Were they wearing helmets?" he wondered. "If not they were almost asking to be robbed."

Police surveillance image of the car used to threaten two 13-year-olds and steal their bikes.

To be fair, "hawkinspeter" had no monopoly on snark.  His comment followed one from "leipreichan" who suggested that the driver will incur no harsher a penalty than three points on his/her license because "the kids were wearing black."  

Hmm...That makes about as much sense as shooting a teenager because he was wearing a hoodie.   

Why Bike Theft Should Be Taken More Seriously

Perhaps it should surprise no one that in New York and other American cities, bicycle theft isn't a high-priority crime for police departments.  If your bike is stolen, you probably won't see it again and the cops will tell you there's "nothing" they can do.  And they might give you a lecture in which they tell you to do the things you'd already been doing.

Depressingly, that is the case in other cities throughout the world.  A case in point is London.  According to a report the BBC cited, about 18,000 thefts were recorded in the city between November 2021 and October 2022. Only 206 resulted in a charge or caution, the latter of which is the British justice system's of saying, "You've been caught; don't do it again."

The BBC news item offered an interesting analysis of the situation.  According to experts, the report goes, many stolen bikes end up on auction sites and those sites should be doing more to stop it.  The report also calls bike theft an "entry level crime," that often leads to bigger crimes.  I wonder whether that separates London bike theft from its counterparts in American cities, which tends to be a crime of opportunity or done by professional thieves.

But aside from losing bikes and contributing to overall lawlessness, bike theft has another undesirable effect. According to Tom Bogdanowicz, a senior policy officer at the London Cycling Campaign, about a quarter of all bike theft victims never cycle again.  This, he said, is "not good for the city" because "if there's less cycling, then there are more emissions from cars, more congestion and people's health isn't improving."  Moreover, he said that while building bicycle infrastructure encourages cycling, if people have their bikes stolen, then you lose customers."

Then, of course, motorists will complain that "their" traffic lanes were "taken away" for bike lanes that "nobody uses."

Thus, not taking bike theft seriously adversely affects public health and exacerbates the already-adversarial relationship that too often exists between motorists and cyclists.  None of that can be good for anybody, I think.

  

Stealing, And Recovering, A Memory Of Him

Yesterday I wrote about Kevin Hebert, the disabled US Air Force veteran whose specially-made bike was stolen--and, thankfully, recovered. In telling about his ordeal, I paraphrased Tom Cuthbertson, who wrote that stealing a bike from someone is one of the lowest things one human can do to another.

That got me to thinking about the question of whether some bike thefts and thieves are more depraved than others.  Almost anyone who rides a bike loves or depends on it--or both.  But some bikes, victims and methods of stealing provoke more disgust and outrage than others.

I'm thinking now about--are you ready for this?--the swiping of a "ghost" bike.  If you ride in almost any city, you've seen one:  painted entirely in white, usually with a sign commemorating a cyclist killed by a driver attached to it.  Of course, they're almost always locked to a signpost or other immobile object.  Even so, they aren't invulnerable to pilferage.  

Such a fate befell the "ghost bike" left at the corner of 134th Street and Pacific Avenue in Parkland, Washington.  Nearby, at 134th and State Route 7, 13-year-old Michael Weilert was crossing on his bicycle in July when a someone drove into the crosswalk and struck him.

As if losing her child weren't bad enough, Amber Weilert  went by the intersection, as she often does, and "was shocked to see it wasn't here" after someone cut the locks and absconded with the memorial to her son.

Fortunately for her, and her family and community, an employee at a local scrap yard recognized the bike and returned it to Weilert's family.

So...while stealing one bike might or might not be worse than stealing another, it's hard to think of a more morally bankrupt bike theft than that of a disabled veteran's wheels--or a "ghost" bike.

The Heroes In A Veteran's Story

One hundred four years ago today, the treaty to end "the war to end all wars" was signed.  For years after that, this day was known as Armistice Day.  Then it came to be Remembrance Day, as it's observed in much of the world.  But here in the US, it's Veterans' Day.

Now, I have nothing against a day to commemorate veterans.  This might sound counter-intuitive, but as I've become more anti-war,  I have become more pro-veteran.  Whether or not the cause was right--which, in recent wars, means whether or not the war was based on any sort of fact or truth--no veteran should ever want--especially if that veteran was disabled in any way as a result of serving in the armed forces.

Forty-four years ago, Kevin Hebert was 19 years old and in the Air Force.  The latter would change when he suffered a broken neck, which left him paralyzed from the neck down.

Eventually, he learned to walk with leg braces.  Then he took on another challenge:  riding a bike again. 

Perhaps not surprisingly (though it may have been a disappointment to him), the Wilmington, North Carolina resident wasn't going to ride a bike like mine or, probably, yours.  Yes, it's propelled only by his feet spinning pedals.  And, at first glance, it looks like a recumbent; it differs in that it has three wheels.  But its most distinguishing trait might be the grip bars that allow him to get into or out of the seat by himself.  He was adamant about having that feature which, he says, "is independence for me."

Well, if in the immortal words of Tom Cuthbertson, stealing a bike is one of the lowest things one human can do to another, stealing a bike (or anything) from a disabled veteran drops someone a rung lower in Dante's Hell. You can tell that Hebert, even after what he's been through, isn't a cynical New Yorker like me:  He assumed that someone "borrowed" the bike.

His faith in humanity may have been well-placed after all:  Someone spotted the bike, returned it--and refused the reward Hebert offered. Oh, and the cops found the perp who took his bike.

Kevin Hebert isn't being immodest when he says he's "accomplished a lot."  That's why I am happy that he got his bike back, not only because it's his bike, but for what it's allowed him, as a disabled veteran to accomplish.  I don't know him, but I suspect he, being the veteran he is, would say that he's not the, or even a, hero in this story.

By the way, today is the 100th birthday of the author who wrote one of the best novels about a soldier's experience in World War II--and of PTSD, although nobody was calling it that when the book was published.   I'm referring, of course, to one of the first writers I fell in love with (as a writer, that is): Kurt Vonnegut, whose Slaughterhouse Five was published in 1969.

Not To Die--Or Kill--For

Some of us have seen bikes "to die for."  When I was a teenager, almost anything with a frame made from Reynolds 531 tubing and Campagnolo components would have been, if not Nirvana, then a ticket to it.

Speaking of which: A year before he offed himself, Kurt Cobain expressed shock at ticket prices for his band's concerts:  $17-18.  In today's dollars, those prices would be double that amount. At the time, other acts charged anywhere from 50 to 75 dollars for the privilege of attending one of their shows.

Anyway, what I said in the first paragraph might, for some of you, beg the question of whether any bike is worth dying for.  Or, to follow this line of thinking, worth killing for.

That is what Bobby Peters asked Tellious Savalas Brown.  Peters, however, was not merely posing a rhetorical question during a casual conversation.  Rather, he was determining the course of 19-year-old Brown's life.

Three years ago, at a Columbus, Georgia bus stop, Brown fatally shot 60-year-old Roy Wilborn to steal his bicycle. Turns out, he'd committed an armed robbery of a restaurant and shot at said restaurant's employees.  Oh, and the car he used to get to the crime scene, and wrecked in fleeing from it, was stolen--hijacked at gunpoint, to be exact.

The hijacking charge and more than a dozen others were dropped in a plea deal.  But, as a penalty for killing a man for his bike, robbing the restaurant and shooting at employees, Judge Peters sentenced Brown to life with the possibility of parole--after 30 years.

"Why do all this?," the judge asked. "All over a bicycle?  This just doesn't make sense."

Securing Your Bike Without Weighing It Down

One of the biggest "arms races" in cycling doesn't involve technological innovations in the equipment Tour de France riders use.

Rather, it has to do with what transportation and recreational cyclists use to keep their bikes.  Ever since Kryptonite and Citadel introduced U-locks (or, as some call them, D-locks) in the mid-1970s, nearly every bike security system is a variation on the design.  The changes have mainly been in the locking mechanisms themselves, as thieves typically found ways to pick them.  

Lock-makers found ways to stay one step ahead of the perps until another kind of technological development--in batteries--made power tools lighter and more portable.  So, now a professional or habitual bike thief's weapon if choice is more likely to be an angle axle grinder, which he or she uses to erode the lock's shank.

In response, U- and D- lock makers beefed up them up, using harder steel and more of it. One unfortunate consequence, which you might be familiar with, is that such locks have become very heavy.

Knowing that, a British company has created a new line--the Litelok X series--of D locks (their terminology).  They are fashioned from something called Baronium, a composite material that is fused to a hardened high-grain, high-tensile steel core. The makers of these locks claim that their products will resist grinders better than any others on the market at about half the weight of conventional D locks.

 

Litelok's makers say the locks are rattle-free, owing to the tight clearances of the shackle and the dual-locking design.   Each come with the company's new Twist + Go mounting system, which they claim will fit any bike.  The firm has also partnered with British bag maker Restrap to make a belt-fitting holster that will allow you to carry the Litelok on your person.

Two different models of the lock, the X-1 and the X-3, will be available.  The X-3, the more expensive one, is slightly smaller and heavier, but has an Abloy Sentry lock--currently considered the "gold standard'--while the X-1 has an ART 4-accredited cylinder.  Both items exceed the new Sold Standard bicycle lock ratings.

 

Will He Lose The Election Along With His Bike?

 When I first became a dedicated cyclist, a brochure--distributed by Schwinn, if I recall correctly--exhorted us to lock our bikes if we were leaving them alone "even for a minute."

Good advice, that was--and is.  In fact, Rick Shone proved that it's doubly true--literally--today.

As part of his campaign to become Mayor of Winnipeg, Canada, he announced a cycling infrastructure plan that aims to, among other things, reduce bike theft.

Less than 90 minutes later, he drove his pickup truck at The Wilderness Supply, a store he owns, to talk to an employee.  He left his orange Rossin, converted into an urban single-speed in the back.  Two minutes later he returned. 

Guess what happened during those 120 seconds.

"I feel so stupid," he lamented.  He explained that he was "distracted by a question," which caused him to leave his truck and bike longer than he'd anticipated.

Of course, I hope he gets his bike back.  But I have to wonder whether that theft makes him look like a person of poor judgment and will hinder his candidacy--or whether it will underscore an issue to which he's bringing attention.

In short, will people be more or less likely to vote for him because he lost his bike through, as he admits, his own neglect?

Cyclist Robbed Of Bike At Gunpoint

In other posts, I've mentioned that when I'm riding to or from downtown or midtown Manhattan, my preferred East River crossing is the Williamsburg Bridge.  

For one thing, it has a relatively roomy bike lane.  So, even when it's crowded, I don't feel as if I'm competing for space with pedestrians, scooters or delivery workers on motor bikes.  

For another, the entry and exit points on either side of the bridge are connected to segregated bike lanes that  offer easy access to the Lower East Side, Chinatown, Williamsburg and other places.  You can reach the Staten Island and Governor's Island ferries, or the World Trade Center PATH train in minutes from the Manhattan side.

The Williamsburg wasn't always my crossing of choice, however. Even before it was refurbished, it had a better bike lane than the other bridges.  But about thirty years ago, when the overall crime rate was much higher, the neighborhoods on either side of the bridge were still considered, even by the standards of the time, high-crime areas.  I knew several cyclists who were robbed of high-end bikes at gun- or knife-point by individuals who jumped them or groups who blocked their way.

Unfortunately, it seems that such incidents are on the rise again. While I don't know any cyclists who've been so victimized recently--at least, not yet--I am reading and hearing about more incidents of cyclists losing their bikes while riding them.

One such incident happened on Saturday night.  What is particularly striking about this incident is that it took place on a designated bike path--in Madison, Wisconsin, a mecca of cycling in the middle of the country. (Some call it the Portland of the Midwest.  I wonder whether, when Portland was first becoming popular with the young, hip and "weird," someone called it the "Madison on the Pacific" or some such thing.) Apparently, a masked man stepped in the cyclist's path and pointed a gun at him.  The cyclist dismounted; the thief took it and took off.

Don't Try This At Home--Or On The Interstate

Baron Georges-Eugene Haussmann has been as revered as Nehemiah and reviled as Robert Moses.  However you see him, you can't deny that he is as responsible as anyone for the kind of city Paris is, and has been for the past century-plus.

One of the things he did was to introduce a street grid. Previously, much of Paris--especially the old districts like Le Marais--were laced with streets narrow streets that zigged, zagged and curved.  If you've been in the medieval sections of some European cities--or a few small districts of New York and Boston--you have an idea of what the City of Light was like before Baron Haussmann came along.

In re-doing Paris' streets, he also made them wider.  While they still seem charmingly or claustrophobically narrow, depending on your point of view, compared to American thoroughfares, the newly-made streets were still a good bit wider.  They allowed for Paris' new infrastructure, including sewers and the very thing that gave the city its nicknames:  gas-powered streetlights. 

While most people agree that widening and straightening the streets modernized the city and made it more habitable for many people, others accused Haussmann of being a tool of the powers-that-be.  Up to that time, Parisians were noted for insurrecting on the drop of a chapeau, and instigators who knew the streets could evade soldiers and guardsmen, who often came from other parts of the country and therefore weren't familiar with the twists and turns of those byways.  But the new, arrow-straight streets made pursuits easier because, well, they made it easier to keep perpetrators in their pursuers' sights.

I mention all of this because, while I hope (and assume, dear reader) that you will never steal a bike, I can offer this bit of advice:  If you try to make your escape on wheels you wrested from their rightful owners, don't try to make your escape on a road that stretches straight ahead of you for miles and miles (or kilometers and kilometers).

And, especially, don't try to make your getaway on an Interstate highway.  It will almost certainly result in your getting caught and hurt, or worse.

A 31-year-old man in Seattle learned that lesson the hard way.  At around 7pm on Wednesday, a bicycle was reported stolen on NE 45th Street near Interstate 5. Police were alerted and Washington State Troopers stopped him on the highway.  When he fought, they tasered him.  He ended up in a local hospital with non-life-threatening injuries.

It will be interesting, to say the least, to find out more about this alleged thief--and what prompted him to try to get away on the main north-south highway of the US West Coast.

Reuniting "Scumbag Currency" With Its Rightful Owners

It was once common knowledge among New York City cyclists that if their bikes were stolen, the first place to look--and their best chance of getting them back--was on St. Mark's Place.  At night, there was an open-air market of pilfered bicycles of just about every kind.

I don't know whether St. Mark's is still the Grand Bazaar of stolen bikes, but from what I'm hearing, the business of stolen bikes still operates in a remarkably covert fashion.  I'm guessing the folks who steal and the ones who sell--who are often, though not always, the same people--know that losing anything without a motor and fewer than four wheels isn't high on the list of law enforcement priorities, whether because police the police don't have the resources or just don't care.  Also, with Craigslist and other online sites, it's a lot easier to sell the fruits of one's illicit labor.  Worse yet, some newer sites, like OfferUp, seem all but tailor-made for criminals.

One would think that with the proliferation of surveillance cameras, would-be crooks would be more reluctant to practice their dark arts.  But, the electronic devices only seem to embolden some perps.  Do they think they're going to become YouTube stars or something?

It seems that the situation is not unique to my hometown.  What's changed, though, is that in Denver metro area and other places, victims or their allies are taking matters into their own hands.  As an example, in nearby Fort Collins, cycling activist Dan Porter (who runs the website Your Group Ride) has "repossessed" two stolen bikes--including an $8000 machine he found leaning against a camper.  He admits "it was a crazy thing to do" but getting the bike to its rightful owner was worth the effort and risk.

Her sentiments were echoed by a woman in the area who prefers anonymnity.  She sets up aliases so she can perform "stings" on would-be sellers of bikes she finds on OfferUp and Facebook Marketplace.   While some might question her and Porter's methods--especially their bypassing of the police, she offers this rationale:  "At least if someone has their property back, I feel half of justice has been served." 

She also has an explanation of one factor that fuels the illegal yet overt business:  "The nice high-end bikes have become the 'scumbag currency' of town."

The Constables' Response Boiled Someone's Bacon

 In January, I wrote about a British judge who, in sentencing two thieves, took into account that each of the bicycles they swiped costs more than many automobiles.  His thinking on this matter is more advanced than that of just about any of his counterparts in the US, or almost any American law enforcement officer.

In that post, I also expressed the hope that his insight also includes other effects of bicycle theft on the people who lose their machines.  While I empathise with the shop owner who loses multiple bikes with five-figure price tags, like the one who was victimized by the perps the judge sentenced, similar incidents probably don't comprise the vast majority of bike thefts.  More often, I imagine, those episodes include the nurse, teacher, store employee, student or someone else who locks their bike to a street sign outside their place of work or study in the morning and returns to find said sign sans velo at the end of the day.  Those incidents also include folks whose garages, sheds or homes are broken into and who may also lose other items or cash along with their bikes.

The latter scenario unfolded in Windsor.  As in the Duke Of.  The unfortunate property owner lost a Trek Madone with a graphite-colored Land Rover and other high-monetary value items.  In response, Thames Valley police tweeted an appeal for help in finding the bike.  Their message included a description, taken from surveillance videos, of the thieves and their getaway vehicle:  a white Audi A3 with plate number GN64 XMM.  

That message "boiled my bacon," in the words of one respondent.  For one thing, that person complained about the constables heading the tweet with the title "high value burglary" so that "some resident who is very very well off for a bob or three can pull strings!"

That respondent has a point, and amplified it with this, "Yet a local fella in Caversham has his electric bike stolen while in Reading and he can ill-afford to replace it until he's saved up enough earnings, and Thames Valley Police weren't interested."

That person has a great point.  While some ride electric bikes for pleasure or to commute to school or well-paying jobs, if the situation in England is anything like it is here in New York, I imagine that the majority of electric bikes are used by delivery workers.  Most of them are immigrants who speak English not well or at all and have few, if any, marketable skills or credentials recognized in their adopted country.  Therefore, as the person who reacted to the bobbies' tweet pointed out, they either save for their machines or buy them on credit or an installment plan, whether payment arrangements are made with their employer or bike dealer.

And the student or worker who parks and loses a battered old ten- or three-speed is losing his or her means of transportation and, possibly recreation or fitness.  Such things are often more important, especially where mass transportation is spotty or unreliable and for people who may not have the spare funds to join a gym or for other recreational activities.

I think the judge I mentioned in my earlier post and whoever reacted to Thames Valley Police tweet should get together and preside over a court for bike theft!

Money And Memories, Transportation And Treasure

 Last month, I wrote about a British judge who did something few in the criminal-justice or law-enforcement systems do:  He took bike theft seriously.  That magistrate, in sentencing thieves, said the monetary value of each the defendants stole is as great as a typical car.

That perception, however incomplete, at least helped the judge understand that stealing those bikes was as serious an offense as other kinds of theft that are, usually, more severely punished.

There are, however, other reasons why bike theft should be as high a priority as other kinds of pilferage. One, which I mentioned in last month’s post, is that our bicycles are, for some of us, an important or primary means of transportation, just as autos are for some other people. And, of course, many of us also ride for recreation and fitness, which are as important as anything else to our individual and collective well-being.

And a broken heart is as deleterious to our overall health as any number of conditions mentioned in the DSM or medical journals. That is what some people suffer with the loss of a bike. Sure, a pair of wheels with a frame and pedals is replaceable—in a material sense, anyway. I could, in the same sense, replace a blanket I own. Monetarily, it’s probably not worth much. But in another sense, it’s priceless, at least to me: My grandmother started, and my mother finished, it.

For some people, a bike can have a similar value, which is often called, dismissively (especially if the one holding the value is female), “sentimental.”

I would bet that many of the bikes on eBay once held “sentimental “ value for someone: The seller’s parent or someone else may have ridden it across a campus, city or country before it was hung in a garage or barn.  Or it may have been passed down from a parent to a child.

The latter was the story behind a bicycle stolen from a woman in Millvale, Pennsylvania. She has spent “countless hours” restoring the “priceless family heirloom” to which she attached a baby carrier.

The suspect 

Fortunately for her, she has been reunited with her very practical treasure. Police, however, are looking for the man suspected of taking the bike.  They found him with the bicycle and, upon questioning, he claimed he owned the bike “forever.”

Of course, no one can make such a claim. But nobody could have come closer to having the right to make it—at least in reference to her “family heirloom”—than its rightful owner.

What Are They Really Trying To Stop?

Is it really a public-safety issue?

Nithya Raman thinks not.  She joined three fellow Los Angeles City Council members in voting against a motion to draft a law that would prohibit the repair or sale of bicycles on city sidewalks.  

But ten other councilmembers, including mayoral candidate Joe Buscaino, out-voted them.  One of their reasons, they claim, is that the folks who fix or sell bikes create hazards by blocking the sidewalks.  While that is a legitimate concern, Raman thinks it's not the real reason for the motion.  After all, as she points out, there is already an ordinance against unnecessary obstruction of sidewalks.

Those "no" voters also don't believe another stated reason for the motion, voiced by Busciano:  It would be a way of combating bike theft.

That claim is specious at best and simply dishonest bigoted at worst.  

While some of the bikes might well be stolen, that is usually impossible to prove because, for one thing, many thefts go unreported.  Perhaps more important, most stolen bikes are never seen or heard from again by their owners or anyone else.  Part of the reason for that is that bikes are often end up in "chop shops."  But another, and possibly more important reason, is that most law enforcement agencies simply don't take bike theft seriously.

I think the real reason anyone is calling for a law against repairing or selling bikes on sidewalks is that many who engage in such activities are un-housed*--and people of color.  The bikes are usually fixed and sold where those people live--under bridge and highway underpasses, for example.  One of those denizens, Denise Johnson, points out that many of those bikes--like the ones her husband assembles and she sells--are built and fixed from salvaged bikes and parts.  

Denise Johnson, with bike frame and parts her husband will assemble.  Photo by Genaro Molina, for the Los Angeles Times. 

She might've echoed what Pete White, the executive director of Los Angeles Community Action Network, said about the proposed ban.  He believes it's "a facial attempt to declutter 'targeted sidewalks' but whose real goal is to banish homeless people from their community."  In other words, it's a version of the now-discredited "broken windows" philosophy of crime-fighting.  

The most obvious explanation for the motion is political:  It's hard not to think that Buscaimo is using it to score points in his mayoral campaign.  The cynic in me says that it's another way for the police to avoid actually dealing with bike theft as the serious crime it is. (The monetary value of some bikes alone should merit attention; more important is that, for many owners, our bikes are as important as cars and other vehicles are to their owners.)  Also,  I can't help but to think that it's a way for law-enforcement to go after the "low-hanging fruit" of cyclists and un-housed people:  It's easier to demand proof that someone  owns the bike on which they're fixing a flat, or to chase people who sleep in bus shelters, than it is to go after a motor-scooter or car driver who runs red lights or hedge funds that operate "dark stores." 

*--Herein, I will no longer refer to people who live on streets or in other public places as "homeless."  The bridge, highway and trestle underpasses, bus shelters and other places where they sleep and keep their stuff are, in essence, their homes.  It can thus be argued that many such people have formed communities of one kind or another.