How Do You Sell Cycling In Amsterdam?

You've probably heard the expression, "He/She could sell snow to the Eskimos/Inuits/Laplanders/any other native of a cold climate".

Believe it or not, Snowbrokers was "set up a few years ago to service the need of online snow sales for the Inuit community of Alaska".  Wow!  I wish I'd thought of that!  I guess it's another one of those opportunities to get in on the ground floor of something that'll reach the sky that I missed.  

Then again, people have come up with even crazier ideas for businesses. Like an Uber for hitmen:  surge pricing is always in effect.  Or an online social network for people who don't use the Internet.  Or one of my favorites:  an a capella singing group that only does death metal covers.  All right, that's not technically a business idea, unless you believe that performers start groups only in the hope of making money. (And we all know that no performer with any integrity would ever think of that, right?)

OK, so at least we know  Snowbrokers, Uber for hitmen, the social network and the a capella groups are jokes--just like the Swiss Navy. (I didn't find out until I tried to join! ;-))  Unfortunately, there are some things that sound like jokes but were conceived without irony or mirth, such as The Flat Earth Society and more than a few political campaigns. (Of the latter, there are some that we wish were jokes.  I won't mention any names as I am trying to remain, ahem, apolitical.)  Oh, and a Creationist theme park.

Hmm...Would all of these schemes have been funded by selling snow online to Inuits in Alaska?  Hmm...Maybe the Samis of Norway would be a more lucrative market.

Or, perhaps, selling cycling in Amsterdam.

Anna Luten, Amsterdam's "bicycle mayor"

"It is harder than it sounds," says Anna Luten.  She would know better than perhaps anyone else:  She is the "bicycle mayor" of the Dutch capital. She was chosen for the voluntary position (Her "real" job is that of brand manager for Giant's LIV line of bicycles for women.) last month by a jury of city officials and bike advocates.  

In a city where there are as many bicycles as people, "Cycling is so normal for us that it becomes boring for us, and we neglect it," she explains.  Because cycling is  "not an identity like it is in other countries, it's just the way we get around", she says, in essence, that cyclists take their position ("because we ride a bike we own the roads"), and that of the city as a bike haven, for granted.  Amsterdam's cycling infrastructure "has to improve for future generations", she asserts, because "There are almost too many cyclists and bikes."  If things continue as they are, she says, "people will stop cycling because it won't be safe".

People will stop cycling because there are too many bikes on the road?  That makes me think of Yogi Berra's observation about a restaurant:  "Nobody goes there anymore because it's too crowded".

Seriously, though:  She has a point.  I mean, in how many other cities  are there bicycle traffic jams?  (In New York, where I live, and other cities, one of the reasons why we ride to work is that we can pedal around traffic jams instead of getting into them!)  Also, because so many people ride to work, there aren't enough ferries, bridges and tunnels to take cyclists across the city's waterways.  Starting more ferry lines isn't an ideal solution for those who depend on their bicycles to get to work, as the ferry rides --though picturesque and free for commuters-- are time-consuming.  Building a new tunnel would be a very expensive and lengthy process, given the city's marshy soil.  And talk of building a new bridge angers harbor boat operators, who fear they--especially those who conduct cruises--could lose out.

Finally, for all the publicity Amsterdam receives as a cyclists' utopia, one only has to cross the city's boundaries, or go into neighborhoods like Nieuw West with large immigrant populations-- to find people who don't share Anna's--and other Amsterdamers'--connection to the bicycle.  Many of the immigrants come from places where people (especially women) didn't ride bikes. Others simply see cycling as unsafe and drive their kids to school. "[W]hen those kids hit 16, they get motor scooters, not bicycles," says Maud de Vries, who runs the Cycle Mayor program.

(I noticed something similar in Paris:  When I cycled through la Goutte d'Or,  into suburbs like Saint Denis and Montreuil (not to be confused with Montreuil-sur-mer) or even the bike lane on Boulevard Barbes, I did not see any other cyclists. In fact, I saw  motor scooters--and a lot of pedestrians--in the Barbes bike lane.)

Some would argue that Copenhagen has overtaken Amsterdam as the world's most bicycle-friendly major city.  To Anna Luten, "the rivalry isn't important, so long as each city is a good place to cycle."  Her efforts, and those of people like Maud de Vries, come from the belief that "cycling has the power to transform".  Such a transformation, she says, would mean that there are "more cities like Amsterdam, where cycling is so normal and accepted that we are not even aware of it."

Then, maybe, no one would have to sell cycling in Amsterdam--or anywhere else.

You, Too, Can Ride An Air Donkey

A week and a half ago, I gave some examples of oxymorons.  As I mentioned in that post, some people would argue that "carbon fiber Brooks saddle" is one.

How about "Air Donkey"?

No, it's not a no-frills airline.  (Please click the link:  the clip is precious!)  Nor is it a cheaper version of a sneaker teenaged boys of all ages (and genders!) wait hours on line and spend whole paychecks to get.  And it's not a game in which people deemed to unstable for military service or the police department work out their aggressions.

Rather, Air Donkey might be described if you created a bike rental service by crossing Uber with Airbnb.



An bicycle outfitted for Air Donkey

At least, that seems to be the vision of Erdem Ovacik, who recently co-founded the Copenhagen (where else?)-based startup which has just opened a Kickstarter appeal to fund their project. 

Essentially, Air Donkey would involve people renting out their bicycles by the day or week to tourists, commuters or whoever else is looking to get around the city on two wheels.  The firm behind Air Donkey--Donkey Republic--says the system has been tested around Copenhagen and is ready to go.



The Air Donkey starter kit.

Members will purchase a starter kit that includes a special rear-wheel lock that can be released with a phone app (and can go 500 days between charges), stickers to mark the bike and a listing on the company's website, which keeps track of available bikes via the locks. 


Users simply have to find a bike, pay the rental fee and use the app to unlock the bike.  Air Donkey recommends a rental fee of 10 Euros a day; it's estimated that the one-time cost of the starter kit will be 80 Euros.  Thus, it shouldn't take long for a member to recoup his or her outlay.



The Air Donkey lock

It all sounds good. However, being the cynical (!) New Yorker I am, I found a problem: the lock. It only allows the bike to be locked to itself or tethered to an immobile object with the attached cable.  The "leash" on the lock is flimsy, especially for a bike that's supposed to be parked on the street so that would-be renters can easily access it. Crooks who aren't particularly enterprising have broken much thicker and stronger cables, chains and locks. Also, I have to think that if thieves found ways to steal Citibikes from their ports, they wouldn't have much difficulty in stealing an Air Donkey bike without cutting the "leash" or even breaking the lock.

On the other hand, as Ovacik points out, the system is intended for everyday, utilitarian machines--the kind people typically have in their basements and storage rooms--not fancy racing bikes.  The bikes people would rent are more likely to have baskets or child seats than heart rate monitors.  Hence the "Donkey" in the name.

Even so, Air Donkey would make a greater variety of bikes available than any municipal bike-sharing system like Citibike could.  A bike shop could rent out, say, a Dutch-style city bike, a three-speed, a low-level mountain bike and other kinds of machines in the Air Donkey system.  And, many riders could find and return bikes in and to more convenient locations, particularly areas of cities where bike-share ports are difficult or impossible to find. 

Whatever its flaws or drawbacks, I hope that the program succeeds and, as Ovacik plans, it's expanded to other cities in Europe and beyond.  Anything that can get more bikes on, and more cars off, city streets is a good thing!




 

Why Most Americans Don't--Or Can't--Pedal, Walk Or Take The Train To Work

Ever since I took my first bike tour in Europe, I've dreamt of the day when Americans had the sort of freedom of choice in transportation that many Europeans have.

(Of course, I was dreaming, at least for a time, of living in Europe for the rest of my life.  Sometimes I still have that dream.)

Is the United States any closer to being a country where you can decide whether you want to drive, take a train or bus, pedal or walk to work, school or shop than it was in 1980?  I'd say that in most of the country, that answer is "no".

I'm well aware that the number of bicycle commuters has increased exponentially over the past decade or so in my home town, New York City.  Such a scenario has also unfolded in a few other large American cities, such as Boston, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Washington DC and, from what I hear, Chicago.  Perhaps even more to the point, in those cities, and perhaps a few other places in the States, there are more than a few people who ride to the office or classroom or store by choice, not because they can't afford a car.

However, in large swaths of this nation, cycling and walking--or even mass transit--is less feasible than driving for most people.  That is the situation even in some of our largest cities, such as Los Angeles, Denver, Phoenix and pretty much any major metro area in Florida or Texas.  And, for a variety of reasons, it doesn't seem that things will change much in the near future.

What I've said in the previous two paragraphs basically sums up a recent post in a blog I've just discovered:  Rebuilding Place in the Urban Space.  The blog's author, Richard Layman, is "an urban/commercial district revitalization and transportation/mobility advocate" based in Washington DC.  He's also a principal in BicyclePASS, a bicycle facilities integration firm.

Mr. Layman succinctly gives the most basic reason why getting to work in any way besides a car isn't really an option for most Americans:  Patterns of development outside the older cities made the private automobile the fastest and most efficient way of getting around.  And, where anything resembling a mass transit system was developed, it wasn't made to facilitate everyday life.  An example of too many transit systems' lack of efficacy can be seen in that in places like the Tampa Bay area, even pro-transit public officials don't use the local bus system. 

Even in the cities where, as I've mentioned, the number of commuters who pedal, walk or take the train or bus is growing, there are still many who choose to drive.  Some simply enjoy driving or don't want to give up the sense of privacy they have in their cars.  And, to be fair, some people--such as self-employed contractors--have to haul around lots of equipment or have to travel between work sites that aren't close to mass transit lines.  But there are still many people who would simply prefer not to give up the freedom or privacy they believe they have in their own automobiles.  Also there are still people in New York and other cities who believe that bicycles and mass transit are "for other people".

Corner of Delancey and Essex Streets, Lower East Side, New York

Cities like New York, Boston, Chicago and San Francisco all have transportation infrastructures--and even a few bike lanes--that have survived, mostly intact, the century or so of the automotive age.  (The San Francisco Bay Area's BART system was built in the 1970's, but San Francisco, at least, had a decent transit system and something like a bicycling infrastructure before that.)  They also have business and residential areas that are close to each other.  In contrast, places like Tampa Bay, much of which was undeveloped during the time the older cities were building their transit systems, developed in a more horizontal way than the older cities and didn't build mass transit systems or even facilities amenable to cyclists or pedestrians.

There are some other older cities, like Detroit, Pittsburgh, St. Louis and Cleveland, had decent transit systems--or at least,  housing and employment centers relatively close to each other.  But, according to Layman, they "lost their ability to support sustainable transportation" as "metropolitan areas sprawled and businesses left the city", trends accelerated by de-industrialization.

I am not familiar with the transportation systems of those cities. But, if they're anything like the ones I've used in the US, they are designed to get people in and out of a central business area of the city--or, at least, some place that was a central business area at the time the system was built.  Such systems aren't made to get people between destinations in the outer boroughs or suburbs. 

(Given these facts, it will be interesting to see how cities like Portland, Seattle and Los Angeles-- all of which are more spread-out than New York, Boston or San Francisco--re-develop their transit systems.)

In suburban and exurban areas, it's considered a "given" that people will have cars.  In fact, we now have at least a generation of people who know, basically, no other means of transportation:  They have no experience with mass transit and the bicycle--if it's ridden in adulthood--is seen as a recreational, rather than a transportation, vehicle.  Moreover, homeowners don't want sidewalks built across their front lawns.

From the ranks of such people come many elected representatives, who don't see the need for mass transportation or amenities that would facilitate and encourage cycling and walking.  Thus, they don't vote to fund such things or even Amtrak. 


Seeing the things I've described, Layman says--and he makes a lot of sense to me--it's unlikely that most transportation systems will be repatterned to make walking, cycling or public transportation practical alternatives for getting to work or wherever else people need to be.  At least, it doesn't seem likely for a few more decades. 



 

Going Dutch

Yesterday, I mentioned that some people hate Citibike because they perceive it and programs like it to be "vaguely French."

Well, they've got it all wrong.  You see, as wonderful as le beau pays is, and even though it is (or, at least was, until recently) more bike-friendly than most other places, probably no place on earth is more bike-friendly than Amsterdam.

At least that's what the folks at Copenhagenize would tell us.  Based on my admittedly limited experience with Amsterdam, I wouldn't argue.  According to their index, the city from which Colorado and Washington have taken their leads (in one area, anyway, if you know what I mean) edges out the Danish capital.  

For all that's happened in places like New York, Boston and Portland, no US city made the top fifteen.  In fact, Montreal--which tied Munich for #11--is the only North American city in that group.

This infographic provides some interesting and relevant facts about cycling in Amsterdam:

From Easyjet

Over The Hills (of San Francisco)

A few days ago, I was bragging about some of the things I've carried on my bicycle.  In one of my earliest posts on this blog, I talked about other kinds of cargo--and baggage--I've hauled while pedaling two wheels.

I must admit, though, that I've never tried to schlep what a San Francisco residents Matt and Dorie Apollonio carted a few days ago:  two kids and a Christmas tree.  I have never had kids and the times I bought Christmas trees, I didn't have to lug them more than a few blocks.  Frankly, it probably would have taken me more time and effort to attach the tree to my bike, cart or shoulder than it took for me to walk with it.

From Hum of The City

 And, of course, I didn't have to negotiate San Francisco's topography or even that of the hilliest parts of the Bronx or Staten Island.  I didn't even have to go up the slope of Park Slope on occasions when I bought Christmas trees while I was living there.


 

Coming To A Kiosk Near Me

Citibike, New York City's bike-share program, will probably be expanded to Western Queens by the end of this year.  So says City Council member Jimmy Van Bremer, who represents the area.

In other words, it's coming to my neighborhood.  The first kiosks will probably be installed by Socrates Sculpture Park and the Noguchi Museum, which are (literally) steps apart--and, ironically, next to a Costco store.

I used to live half a block from the museum.  In the seven years I lived there (2002-2009), I noticed more and more people going to it and to Socrates.  I also noticed that increasing numbers of those people came from Europe, Japan and other parts of the world.  

Those tourists--especially those from Paris and other capitals with extensive mass transportation systems--would be surprised at how difficult it was to reach those places, in spite of their proximity to Manhattan.  Really, you can't get much closer to Manhattan without being in it.  But they're still about a mile from the nearest subway station, and on weekends, only one bus line serves them.  And, it seems, the buses run every hour.

So, Socrates and Noguchi would seem to be great places for Citibike.  Socrates is popular with cyclists, as one can bring his or her bike into the park,  touch the sculptures and installations, and enjoy a little picnic by the river.  I have done that many times.

However, for Citibike to be practical, other kiosks will need to be installed near the subway stations--unless Citibike plans to increase the 30-minute time limit (45 minutes for annual members).  Most people, especially those who are not regular cyclists, would need half an hour, or maybe twenty or twenty-five minutes just to get to or from Manhattan by bike.  Socrates and Noguchi are halfway between the Queensborough (59th Street) and RFK (Triboro) Bridges, both of which let cyclists off on the easternmost extreme of the island.  

Of course, if anyone wants to use Citibike for commuting or transportation, the things I've mentioned are even more critical.  And, of course, that begs the question of whether said commuters and errand-runners would ride the bikes into and out of Manhattan, or to the subway stations.

Don't get me wrong:  I'd be happy to see Citibike come to Queens.  I simply think that its planners have to re-think the current limitations of the program in order to make it practical, let alone enjoyable.

They Need A Few Good Bikes. The Women, Too.

A counselor at my second job is a volunteer with Neighbors Link, an organization that helps recent immigrants. He is asking people to donate bicycles and sturdy clothing and footwear (such as jeans, overalls, T-shirts and work boots) to that organization, which will give them to recent immigrants.


The idea intrigued me for several reasons.  For one, I notice that more and more immigrants--mainly from Latin America and Asia, and mainly men--are using bicycles for transportation. I'm not talking only about the guys who make deliveries for various restaurants, cafes and diners.  Others are riding their bikes to work at construction sites, warehouses and other places where native-born degree-holders fear to tread.  Some, I suspect, are also riding to classes at the community colleges, language institutes, trade schools and GED centers in the area.  


As you can imagine, they're not always riding the best of bikes.  Sometimes they're on cheap department-store bikes, most of which are not assembled properly (in addition to being of poor quality).  Others are used bikes of just about every genre.  These days mountain bikes from the early and mid-90's seem to be the most common pre-owned bikes to find their way into the immigrant communities, and there are large numbers of "vintage" ten- and twelve-speed bikes, in addition to some English (or English-style) three-speeds.  (Do you know what makes me feel old? Knowing that I rode "vintage" bikes when they weren't vintage!)  All of these bikes, even the best of them, are in various states of disrepair.  

Image from "The Urban Country"

I think the counselor who's coordinating the collections is doing a great thing. If you're in the NYC area and have anything to donate, I can refer you to him, and he will arrange a pick-up.


But now that I've undergone changes, I've become a radical feminist.  (Ha, ha!) So I notice that these immigrant bike riders are invariably male.  That is not a stereotype or sweeping generalization; I can't recall the last time I saw a Latina or female Asian immigrant riding a bike for any reason.  Every female cyclist I've met here has been native- or European-born.  


So now I'm thinking about why that is.  It seems to me that bicycling, like education, can make such women less dependent on men and less isolated.  I have had many female immigrant students, some of whom were single mothers and others who were married to abusive men.  Even those who seemed to be in happy marriages and families were living in a kind of isolation I can just barely imagine.  I mean, I've lived in a culture different from my own, and I've traveled to others. But I realize now that, when I was living abroad, and in my travels until recently, I had a great deal of freedom simply from being a single American, and from living as a guy named Nick.  But even when I went to Turkey five years ago--as Justine, but still three years before my surgery--I was able to move about in ways that I never could had I been a Turkish woman.

Oh, and I didn't see a single woman on a bike when I was there.  And I wasn't riding, either.


Anyway...Let me know if you want to make, or know anyone who wants to make, a donation to the program I described.  I'm also interested in hearing any thoughts you might have about the situation of immigrant women I've just described.

Coming Out of The Cold and Leaving

I can't stop thinking about him.


OK, this isn't going where you think it's going!  


The other morning, when I was doing my laundry, I saw him.  He was riding a department-store mountain bike in the snow that had fallen through the night.  If he wasn't homeless, he looked like he was less than a paycheck away from it.  Or, if I want to be more charitable or simply literary, I could say that he looks like a grizzly bear that just came out of detox.


Wherever he doesn't go on his bike, he walks.  He doesn't even take the subway or bus, he told me. I believe him:  I've seen him around the neighborhood before, but I'd never talked with him until the other day.


He asked me whether it would be OK to put his shoes in one of the dryers.  I don't work there, I explained, so I don't make the rules.  And, I told him, I didn't think the person in charge was anywhere in sight. 


So he put his shoes--more like sneakers, really--in one of the floor-level dryers.  And when it heated up, he propped his feet against the door.  "Can't get frostbite," he explained.


After I loaded one of the other dryers, I went around the corner for a cup of tea.  I offered to bring one back for him--or a hot chocolate, coffee, or whatever else he wanted.  "Oh, no thank you, Miss.  You're too kind."


When I returned to the laundromat, he and his bike were gone.

A Full Bike Rack!

Today I cycled to my regular job and my "moonlighting" gig.  As is so often the case, my Le Tour was the only bike parked at my regular college.  On the other hand, when I arrived at my other school, I couldn't find a spot for my bike. 

The college has one designated area for bicycle parking.  It's about twenty feet directly in front of the guard station where most students, faculty and staff come in if they are driving or walking.  In it are those long racks that look like waves of steel.  One can lock a bike to the outside part of the "wave"--or inside, if the bike is small enough or can be folded or maneuvered.

Well, it seemed that every inch of space on those racks had been used!  Except for the inside one of the inverted "U"s that are part of those waves, that is. So, I took my tote bag out of my rear basket, which I folded.  Then I tilted the bike as close to paralell with the ground as I could and managed to nudge the bike inside.  Then I locked the frame's rear triangle to the rack.

My momentary annoyance at trying to find a parking spot turned to gratification that so many people rode bikes on such a hot day. (The temp got up to 97 F.)  Some of the bikes looked like they came from department stores or the worst eBay sites.  But others were well-worn  ten- and three-speeds from the 1970's or thereabouts:  a Ross Eurosport, a couple of Schwinns, a Motobecane Mirage with its original Simplex derailleur (That would date the bike at 1974 or earlier; Motobecanes started to come euipped with Sun Tour derailleurs the following year.)   Those bikes made me a little sentimental, for they were new when I was young and first becoming serious about cycling.

I wish only that I had my camera with me.  Not only could I have shown those overflowing bike racks; I could also have been vain and posted more images of myself.  I rode in a skirt and heels and received a lot of compliments on the way I looked.  The skirt was a paisley print in shades of tropical-seas-blues, white and black.  With it, I wore a tank top and short cardigan in one of the shades of blue and a pair of black sling-back peep-toe shoes with three-inch heels.

Because there were so many bikes, I'd bet that I wasn't the only well-dressed cyclist who came to the college today. 

I am still thinking, not only about the fact that I saw so many bikes at my new gig, but that I see so few--often, none--at my regular job.  I think that the discrepancy has much to do with the fact that my second job has a much more diverse student body:  Some come from the poorer areas of the city, but many come from middle-class and even affluent areas of Queens.  As Velouria and others have said, the poorer immigrants-- who  comprise much of the student population at my main job--often equate cycling for transportation with poverty and lower social status:  exactly what they hoped to escape by leaving the places of their birth.  And, in those places, there it seems that riding for sport is all but non-existent.

I'll be very interested to see whether I'll continue to encounter full bike racks at my new gig.