What I’ve Never Said During A Ride

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can Silicon Valley Become Amsterdam--In India?

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

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


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

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

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

The possible model for Bengaluru

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

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

Bike Parking Sucks Because...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At Least It's Mist

It seemed weirdly appropriate that, on the day after 9/11, I should encounter this on my way to work:

Well, at least I was going to work, not trying to escape.  And I had the expectation, as I do nearly every day, that I will leave and make it home.

Nearly 3000 weren't so fortunate on that day 17 years ago.

Tell Them About Your Commute

The next time you complain about your commute, reflect on these young women:

If you are my age, you might be lamenting "today's young people" who don't look up from their phones.  But they did talk to me.

Their commute starts like this

and continues with this

and goes up even further

until, finally, they reach the top of the hill and have all of the best views of Luang Prabang.  

Hoiko, Pamela and I cycled across that bridge yesterday.

As nice as the view is, I''ll bet they don't think much about it.  That's what happens when something becomes a part of your work routine:  It wouldn't surprise me to know that waiters and other workers in Windows on the World stopped noticing the view, if they ever cared about it in the first place.

Maybe they laugh at folks like me who trudge up those stairs as part of their "vacation"

 or pay 50000 kip (about $6) to release two young birds into the air from the viewing area.

Or maybe they don't. Either way, I have respect for them because, even though there are two ways you can ascend or descend Pho Si, neither involves an elevator (lift) or escalator (moving stairs).  One route, on Thanon Phousi, includes several viewpoints "manned" by statues along its 355 stairs. The other, which starts on Sisavangvong Road (opposite the Royal Palace Museum) takes 328 steps.  That's the way I came down; I went up the Thanon Phousi.

It makes perfect sense that those statues, and other images of Buddha, are found on the hill:  Phou Si's literal meaning is "sacred mountain".  Some people climb it to watch sunsets.  Yesterday I couldn't get there in time; on the two previous days, the weather didn't cooperate.  To me, the walk up and the view were rewarding.  And I'll never, ever complain about my commute again!

My Morning Commute: Only In 1984. Only From Cannondale.

On my way to work today, I saw only one other cyclist.  I wasn't surprised because this morning was the coldest we've had since February.  And it was windy, which I really noticed when crossing the RFK Bridge.  

That cyclist, though, was riding a bike older than he is.  That, in itself, is not so unusual, as I often see people--particularly the young--on machines passed on to them by parents or older siblings, or found in basements, garages, barns or yard sales.

Some of those bikes could fetch money on eBay as "vintage" items.  In a way, that's very funny to me, because I remember when they were the sorts of things you'd see every day.  Most were good for the sorts of rides and riders they were designed for, but we never thought they were exceptional in any way.

But the rider I saw today was pedaling a rig that was unusual when it was made--and simply strange today:

Cannondale made its first mountain bike in 1984.  It's the one in the photo above--and the one ridden by the fellow I saw today.  Unfortunately, I didn't get to take a photo of the bike.  But, from my brief glimpse of it, I don't think it had been ridden very much.  

When that bike was made, mountain bikes were still new to most people who didn't live in northern California or, perhaps, upper New England.  It seems that those who were involved in the then-evolving sport of mountain biking hadn't developed any notions about what mountain bikes were "supposed" to be.  

At least, their notions seemed fluid compared to those of us who were road bikers, even those as young as I was:  While the designs of certain components had evolved and refined, a good road racing, touring or sport-touring bike had more or less the same design and elements (lugged steel frames with a certain range of geometries) they'd had for about two or three generations before us.  

On the other hand, the first mass-marketed mountain bike--the Specialized Stumpjumper-- began production only three years earlier.  Its design was a kind of cross-breed of the custom mountain bikes Tom Ritchey, Gary Fisher and a few other pioneers had been making for about half a decade.  Although the first shipment of 125 Stumpjumpers (built in Japan) sold out in six days and subsequent runs sold even more quickly, the Stumpjumper would not set the standard for mountain-bike design--at least, not for very long. 

The truth was that even folks like Ritchey, Fisher and Chris Chance were still figuring out how to design their bikes, which had begun with Schwinn cruisers retrofitted with multiple gears and caliper brakes.  By the time the Stumpjumper came along, they and folks like Charlie Kelly were building lugged or fillet-brazed frames of chrome-moly tubing with long wheelbases--which, really, were lighter (yet stronger) versions of the old cruisers.  

According to the information I've come across, all of the early mountain bike frames--including that of the Stumpjumper--were built from steel.  That is no surprise when you consider that about 99 percent of bikes were still being fabricated from that material. The only difference was that the lighter, more expensive bikes used alloy steels--maganese molybdenum (Reynolds 531) or chrome molybdenum (Columbus and Tange), while cheaper, heavier bikes used carbon steel.  

Although bikes were made from it as early as the 1890s, aluminum was little-used as a frame material until the mid-1970s, when the "screwed and glued" Alan frames were built.  A few years later, Gary Klein designed an aluminum frame with wide-diameter tubing to make it stiffer.  In 1982--the year after the Stumpjumper first saw the light of day--Cannondale made the first mass-produced aluminum bicycles.

Those first Cannondales were road bicycles--racing, touring and sport models.  If you rode one of those early Cannondales, as I did, you know that their design has changed quite a bit.  So, I think it's fair to say that if Cannondale was still figuring out how to make aluminum road bikes, they were really starting from "square one" with that first mountain bike.  But it's also fair to say that no one else knew how to design aluminum mountain bikes, for--at least, from the information I've gathered--no one else, not even Klein, was building them at that time.

For all I know, the fellow I saw today on an early Cannondale mountain bike may have no idea about the history I've just described.  He probably just knows that he's riding a funny-looking bike.  Maybe he doesn't care.

Still, I can't help but to wonder who came up with the idea of designing a bike around a 24 inch rear wheel with a 26 inch front. As fluid as ideas about mountain bikes were at that time,  Cannondale was probably the only bike maker that could get away with doing such a thing.  And 1984 was probably the only year they could have done it.

The Arc Of My Commute

Yesterday, I wrote about seeing the cherry blossoms budding on my way in to work.

Well, my ride home included a different sort of visual spectacle.  Because I was carrying a lot (and was being a bit lazy), I took the new connector bridge, which is flat, to Randall's Island, rather than the steep, zig-zaggy ramp up to the Bronx spur of the RFK Bridge.

The connector passes underneath the Hell Gate viaduct--where the Amtrak trains run--and over the Bronx Kill, which separates the rusty but still running industrial areas of the Bronx from the parklike expanses of Randall's Island.

My commute may be only ten kilometers in each direction.  But I felt as if I'd experienced a whole spectrum of color, a wide panaroma of light and forms, on my way to work and back.

One Way Of Entering The Bronx

As I mentioned in a previous post, a bicycle/pedestrian connection between Randall's Island and the Bronx has opened.  It's actually very good:  It's well-constructed and makes a smooth transition to the pathways on the island.  Also, it's wide and closed off to motorized traffic, though there is a rail crossing--albeit one that doesn't seem to be used very often.  My only real complaint about it is that it's that most people would have a difficult time finding it from the Bronx side.

Still, I sometimes choose to ride up the walkway on the Bronx spur of the RFK Memorial/Triborough Bridge.  One reason is that it has a fairly steep incline, which adds a small challenge to my daily commute.  Also, while the new connector makes for an easy entrance into the Bronx, the old RFK walkway makes the entrance, shall we say, a bit more grand

and perhaps a bit more dramatic, even a bit Gothic, on an overcast day.   It's not exactly noir--more like gris, perhaps.  Plus,  you have to admit, there's something imposing about seeing a cross--or something that looks like a cross, anyway--as you are riding up to an arch.

Don't get me wrong:  I'm enjoying my new job, and the commute to it.  Truth be told, the part of the Bronx where I now work is more interesting than the part of Queens where I had been working.  And, oddly enough, even though I don't see a lot of people in the neighborhood riding bikes (a few of colleagues in my department and elsewhere in the college ride in), somehow I don't feel as conspicuous as I did at my old job, where practically nobody rode.  And I couldn't make the kind of entrance I make when I pedal up that ramp into the Bronx!

Morning Commutes Through The Gates of Hell

I am teaching early morning classes in my new gig.  That means, for now, that I am pedaling to work around dawn.  Someone remarked that I am "bringing the morning to the Bronx", where I am now working.

Should I bring the morning in a pair of panniers?  A bicycle briefcase?  Or some other kind of bike bag? 

While pedaling across the RFK/Triborough Bridge, I saw the morning arrive in another conveyance

through the Gates of Hell--all right, I mean through Hell Gate or under the Hell Gate Bridge.

Perhaps I wasn't bringing morning through the Gates of Hell.  But some of my students probably thought I was bringing them hell this morning through the campus gate!

Playing Chicken--In Reverse--With The Rain

In other posts in this and my other blog, I've written about "playing chicken with the rain".   It's one of my guilty pleasures:  I go out for a ride when the sky looks absolutely pregnant with precipitation and keep on riding, all of the while daring the sky open up on me.  The best such rides are the ones in which I pull up to my house (or wherever I'm going) just as the first couple of drops touch my skin:  I feel as if I'd gotten away with something.

I was playing a kind of "reverse chicken" during this morning's commute.  It rained last night, heavily as I slept and a little lighter as I was getting ready to go to work.  As I hopped on my bike, a few drops plipped against my helmet; by the time I got to the RFK Memorial-Triborough Bridge (a little more than a kilometer from my apartment), the rain had stopped and the sun was starting to break through the clouds.

By the time I got to work, what little rain had fallen on me had dried up.  I looked no different than I would have had I ridden under clear skies during my entire commute; none of my co-workers asked, with astonishment, whether I had actually ridden "in this weather".  I was smiling or grinning, I'm not sure of which, and they might have wondered what I was smiling or grinning about.  I'll let them think what they will (I love them. I really do!); I am content to start my day feeling as if I'd gotten away with something, like a kid who made off with the box of cookies! 

 

Saluting An Early Morning Fog

This morning, on my way to work, I pedaled into a horizon of light, high fog.

The air was still pleasantly cool and, surprisingly, didn't seem very humid.  At least, I was pedaling at a vigorous, if not furious, pace because I could, and I wasn't sweating.

Perhaps it had to do with the stillness of everything around me.  They say this city never sleeps.  Well, sometimes I'm out before people--and machines--have awakened:

Or are they saluting the skyscrapers, veiled in mist on the other side of the river ?

Oh, it's such a treat to ride my bike to work!

Does Congestion Pricing Save Lives?

Here in the US, there's one very easy way for a politician to ensure that he or she will not be elected:  Proposing a tax increase.

Forget that.  If it even sounds like a tax increase--or the government, in any way, shape or form taking more money--it will destroy the aspirations of any candidate.

That is one of the reasons why no New York City mayoral candidate has ever proposed it.  Michael Bloomberg, in the middle of his second term as Hizzoner, made it part of his long-term sustainability program for the Big Apple.  Then-City Council Speaker Christine Quinn favored it.  So did the conservative Republican leader of the New York State Senate, Joseph Bruno.  And then-Governor Eliot Spitzer liked the idea, too.

The somewhat-modified plan was approved, 30 votes to 20, by the New York City Council on 31 March 2008.  To qualify for Federal funds to research and implement the plan, the State Assembly had to vote for it  by 7 April.  That day, after a closed-door meeting, the Assembly's Democratic Council decided not to vote on the proposal, citing "overwhelming opposition", in the words of Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver.

Within three months, the price of gasoline would spike to $4.00 a gallon. (I know that for you Europeans, that is cheap. But I can recall my father filling up the gas tank of the family station wagon for $5.00 when I was in my early teens!)  That, ironically, would cause a five percent decrease in automobile trips into Manhattan below 60th Street, the area that would have been affected by a congestion-pricing plan.

I think it was Woody Allen who said, "Life is hard.  But what's the alternative?"  Something like that might be said about congestion pricing.  Yes, it would cost money and it might mean giving up something else.  But if it saves lives--forget "lives" plural, let's talk about just one, perhaps your own--wouldn't it be better than the alternative?

Turns out, a claim that congestion pricing could save lives is not hyperbole.  There's evidence to support it, courtesy of in Colin Green and his fellow researchers.

Professor Green is a health economist at the University of Exeter Medical School.   This month, he and his colleagues will present a study at the Royal Economic Society's annual conference in which they show that in the congestion zone, there has been, not only a dramatic decrease in the number of accidents, but also an even more dramatic drop in the accident rate, i.e., the number of accidents per vehicle mile driven.  

That was a significant finding because a decline in the number of accidents could be attributed to other factors--or could be seen as a statistical aberration--more easily than such a shrinkage in the rate per mile.

Moreover, Dr. Green and his cohort found that fewer accidents were occurring in the rest of London, outside the congestion zone.  What that suggests is that one of the objectives of congestion pricing is being achieved:  People's behavior is changing.  More are riding bikes and walking; fewer are driving.  And the revenue collected from congesting pricing is used to improve mass transit and cycling infrastructure, which causes more people to see them as realistic alternatives to their (usually short) driving trips.

Milan, Singapore and Stockholm all have plans similar to London's in place.  As far as I know, no one has studied them in the way Dr. Green has examined London's plan.  But I would suspect that similar, if less dramatic, results have been achieved.  Whatever the results, if lives are saved, I think it's worth whatever would be charged to drive and park in the center of the city.

 

Navigating A Pre-Dawn Fog

The past few mornings, I've been going to work early to get a few things done before students and others come around.  

That's meant riding in the dark.  Living in an urban area, I don't experience true darkness very often:   The city always flickers with ambient light from street lamps, skyscrapers, bridges and such.  Still, a lot of familiar sights are rendered invisible, especially in a foggy, misty pre-dawn like the one that surrounded me today:

Over the East River at Hell Gate, the world drifts or streams by, or suspends itself in points of reflection on those currents, all of them forms of light.

Sometimes I feel as if I navigate better by following those points and streams than by looking at signs and maps (or GPS devices)!

The Dawn Of A New Semester

The college semester has begun.  I'm teaching a couple of early morning classes.  This morning, I went in about an hour early to post some materials I'm using in one class.  

There are a number of ways I can ride to work.  This morning, I decided to wend my way through an industrial area of Long Island City.

Now that I think of it, using "wend" and "industrial" in the same sentence seems almost contradictory.  But at the time I rode--about 6:30--there's almost no traffic.  It seems almost bucolic, in a weird sort of way.

And the light is not to be missed:

I wish I'd brought my camera:  I caught this image, such as it is, on my cell phone.  At least there's a glimmering of what I saw.

The Light I Followed At The End Of The Day

Yesterday I gave you three images and a lot of words on a subject (and a couple of topics) of interest mainly to cyclists.  

Today I'm going to give you three images and fewer words.  I don't know what the subject or topic is.  All I know is that I captured them with my cell phone while riding home from work

Here's one from the Pulaski Bridge"

The light is interesting and unusual (Can one be without the other?)for the end of a late-July day.  Perhaps it is a foreshadowing...of what, I don't know.

My LeTour commuter-beater seems to blend right in:

A little later, camouflage would have been a bit more difficult:

That street is in--where else?--Williamsburg.


 

Scraping The Sky, Or Brushed By Fog

Late yesterday morning and the afternoons were just interludes between rainstorms.  Or so it seemed.  And it rained even harder, from what I can tell, last night.

I crossed the Queens-Randall's Island spur of the Triborough (RFK Memorial) Bridge just before the window closed or the clouds opened, depending on your point of view:

Cycles In The Sky

I took a walk on the High Line (Is that the title of a Lou Reed song?) shortly after it opened.  I enjoyed its green space and overall attractiveness.  But I also had a sinking feeling in my stomach.  About two years later, I realized why:  Upon returning about two years later, it had become, essentially, an elevated version of Times Square with more trees and more expensive lattes. It became an "it" destination for tourists to the Big Apple in a way that the Viaduc des Arts, after which it was modeled, never did in Paris. 

Now, that all might be unrelated to what I am about to discuss, save for the fact that a proposed bicycle highway made me think about the High Line.

No less than Sir Norman Foster, Britain's most prolific architect (and a passionate cyclist) backs a "Skycycle" thoroughfare that would allow two-wheeled commuters and tourists to whisk into, out of and through Central London.  The elevated lanes would be built above existing railroad tracks so that buildings and other structures would not have to be demolished.

On one hand, I like the idea.  One thing I actually liked about riding in the Five Borough Bike Tour, as well as other organized rides, was the opportunity to ride on elevated expressways (and the lower deck of the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge) that were closed to automobile traffic.  Although I missed the street-level contact I'd normally experience in riding through some Brooklyn neighborhoods I know well, I enjoyed the views of the harbor and waterfront.

Some might argue that building an elevated bicycle highway might entice people who are intimidated by traffic into riding to work.  That may well be true, if the increase in the number of cyclists following the construction (or, in some cases, segregation) of bike lanes on New York City streets is any indication.  However, as Mark Ames points out in the Sustainable Cities Collective blog, a bicycle highway is probably unnecessary.  He argues that there is plenty of room for cyclists and pedestrians on London Streets, but not for cars.  Therefore, he says, the solution is to limit the number of cars in the central city, which London does through a "congestion surcharge."

Mike Bloomberg floated the idea of such a levy for Manhattan below 60th Street.  It was about as popular as the notion of banning bagels.  The loudest objections came from family-owned construction companies and the like that are based in the far reaches of the outer boroughs but do much of their business in Midtown and Downtown. 

I hope that our current Mayor, Bill de Blasio revisits the idea.  Perhaps he will if he's elected to a second term.  From what I've seen, he is smart enough to realize that if it's simply not possible to squeeze more cars and trucks into Manhattan right now, we might be near that point.  I don't think he'd want to be remembered as the mayor who was in office when Manhattan froze in a state of permanent gridlock.

Then, about all anyone will be able to do is to sip those $15 lattes on the High Line.

Riding Through "All Of The Above"

I bailed.

I didn't end that sentence with "out", so I cannot be accused of being an enabler to those who drove the economy off a cliff.

I bailed.

Yes, I admit it.  I've commuted through rain, snow and ice within the past week. Yesterday, after administering a final exam, I thought I could get home before the sky oozed its contents like a Slurpee machine all over the streets.  Except, of course, there wouldn't be any cherry or pina colada flavors.

Well, the darkening clouds started to dump slush on us almost as soon as I started pedaling.  After thee blocks, needles of horizontal sleet wove the icy foam through sleeves of concrete--and directly into my eyes.

Photo by Andrew Burton.  Published on Hungree

Some like the cold.  Some of those people like the snow; others don't mind the rain, or even sleet. But I have yet to meet anyone who likes to experience--let alone ride a bike through--all of them at the same time. That, of course, is a way of saying I encountered my limit and took the N train the rest of the way home.

What is (are) your meteorological limits for cycling?  Or do you not have any at all?

Windy Bike Rides In The City

The wind grew stronger throughout the day.  Late this afternoon, the stretch of Crescent Street that leads to the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge had become a veritable wind tunnel.  So had some of the surrounding streets.  But in others, the air was as calm as it is in an airliner's cabin.

That is one of the interesting quirks of urban cycling.  On the open road, when the wind is blowing, it's either in your face, at your sides or at your back.  And the wind at your side can, if it's strong enough, impede your progress as much as a headwind if you're riding "Deep V" rims.  When you're cycling in the woods, the trees and sometimes the hills or rock outcroppings block at least some of the wind.  At least, in the time I spent riding in the woods, I never found the wind to be as much of an issue as it can be on the road.

But I think that the effect of the wind is at its least predictable when riding asphalt rivers through concrete canyons.  I wonder why that is.

Now, my commute today wasn't more difficult than usual.  At least, it couldn't have been as difficult as what these guys faced:

Let The Profits Roll In

From Knox Gardner

 According to economic surveys, the price of gasoline is dropping, however slightly.  Still, it begs the question of how long prices will stay down, and when and by how much prices will rise again.  If the long-term trajectory for gas prices is upward, I have to wonder what it will do to the way people commute and travel, and how they will shop and entertain themselves.  While gasoline prices in the US are still nowhere near the levels in Europe and Japan, long-term increases will, I think, impact Americans' way of life even more than Europeans' or Japanese people's lifestyles because so much of this country's landscape and infrastructure is designed for the automobile.

Now, I don't expect people who are accustomed to driving a couple of days to their favorite vacation spots to suddenly take up bicycle touring.  However, there seem to be signs that more people, particularly the young, are doing that.  Almost any time I take a ride outside of New York City, or take a road or a path that leads out of it, I see couples or groups riding bicycles laden with panniers and, in some cases, camping equipment.  I am also noticing more and more families (or fathers and sons or mothers and daughters) riding on the paths and trails.

If more of us ride our bicycles, that could actually become a tourist economy unto itself, as it has in places like Portland.  In fact, Elly Blue, a bicyclist, activist and writer based in Portland, makes such an argument.  She points out that 78 percent of visitors to the city say that its bicycle-friendly reputation played a role in their decision to travel there.  She also shows how such tours as RAGBRAI pour money into local economies--which, I imagine, has a real impact in states like Iowa, which ranks 47th among the 50 states in tourism.  Even in New York City, a ride like the Five Borough Bike can boost revenues for restaurants, stores and hotels as thousands of people come in from other states and abroad to join local cyclists for the ride.

So...Will Tourist Bureaux establish committees on bicycle touring?  Stranger things have happened!