What, And How, We Have Delivered

Today is Labor Day in the U.S.A.  I am going to talk about some people who make their livings on their bikes.

No, this isn't about professional bicycle racers.  Rather, I am referring to messengers and delivery workers.

I was a New York City bicycle messenger for just over a year, in 1983-84.  FAX machines were becoming fixtures in offices and other work (and, in a few cases, residential) settings;  a decade would pass before the Internet would connect them.  Still another decade or so would go by before documents like contracts that required signatures could be sent digitally.

Nearly four decades ago, most restaurant and other delivery workers rode bicycles; so did just about all messengers.  The differences between and among us were in the kinds of bikes we rode.  Some restaurant and pizzeria delivery workers pedaled specially-made industrial bicycles with fitted baskets, most of which were made by Worksman Bicycles, still located just a few miles from my apartment.  Others--and some messengers--rode whatever they could get, from whomever they could. (It was common knowledge that if your bike was stolen, you should go to (pre-gentrified)  St. Mark's Place where, shall we say, one didn't ask questions.)  And then there were messengers who rode the then-newfangled mountain bikes or bikes that seemed newfangled to most people even thought they'd been around since the early days of bicycles. I am talking, of course, about fixed-gear machines.

Such was the case until well into the 2010s.  These days, however, you never see a delivery worker on a pedal-only bicycle:  They're riding e-bikes.  The reason for that is, of course, that most are working, not for the restaurants themselves, but for app companies like DoorDash, who classify their deliverers as "independent contractors."  That means those workers are paid--and their terms of employment depend on metrics the company keeps.  

I, and most other messengers, were paid in the same way.  The difference was that we weren't working for app companies that recorded our every move and turned the data into "metrics."  If we got that contract or sample--or, in one case I recall vividly, a paining from a Soho gallery (Yes, the neighborhood hadn't yet become an open-air mall.) to Judy Collins (Yes, that Judy Collins!) in a timely fashion, we were considered "good" messengers and got more work.  

As the wheels under delivery workers turned from pedal bicycles to eBikes, bicycle messengers disappeared.  I rarely them anymore, even in the Financial District and other dense neighborhoods of Manhattan.  Much of the reason for that is, of course, the digitization of documents.  Not only does that mean much less work overall; it also means that are few urgent or "rush" deliveries.  That, in turn, means customers are less willing to pay more than a couple of dollars to have, say, a sample of a neon hoodie brought to their door.

Photo by Cole Burston, for the Toronto Star

I hope I don't sound like an old fogie (after all this is Midlife Cycling!) pining for "the good old days."  But there is much I miss about the messengering milieu of four decades ago.  For one, I was able to make pretty decent money--which is precisely what enabled me to move back to New York.  For another, it was a job that people like me, a young misfit, could do.  Finally, being an "independent contractor" meant that I was, well, independent:  As long as the jobs I took on were done quickly, people didn't care about how I dressed (though I did try to be neat, as I occasionally entered professional offices) or, for that matter whether I was hung over or high.

OK, now I'll tell you about one of the dirty little secrets of the trade.  In addition to consuming lots of pizza, pasta, rice and beans, french fries and other high-carb foods, we partook of, uh, certain herbal substances.  I haven't smoked weed since, probably, a year or two after I stopped working as a messenger, but in those days, I smoked stuff I rolled myself.  So did just about every other messenger I knew.

(One great thing about getting older is that the statute of limitations runs out on most non-capital offenses!)

I think that for food delivery workers, nearly all of whom are immigrants, there is a more serious consequence. Ebikes are far more expensive than regular bicycles.  Few, if any, can pay for them up front.  So, they are in debt, whether to the dealers who sold them the machines or to whomever loaned them the money.  

Photo by Paul Frangipane, for Bloomberg News

Oh, and even though the New York City Council ruled  that delivery workers for app companies are, in fact, employees who are entitled to minimum wage, unemployment insurance, worker's compensation and other benefits, the companies are simply flouting the law because they know a worker who's in debt and doesn't speak English well or at all is in no position to fight them.

In short, the changes in delivery work--and the near-disappearance of messenger work--has, to whatever degree, contributed to the ever-widening gap between, not just the rich and poor, but also (and more importantly, I believe) between those who can gain a foothold in this economy and move up, and those who can't.  I have to wonder what the young person I was--depressed and angry, unable to deal with office politics or over-entitled clients--would do today.

When Will World Bicycle Day Be For Everyone Who Cycles?

 Today is World Bicycle Day.

The United Nations designated this "holiday" was in 2018.  Whether it has contributed to the growth in cycling is debatable.  But I won't argue with having such a day.

Interestingly, it's also National Free Donut Day.  We have to get our carbs one way or another, right?

Anyway, while one sees bike lanes winding through urban neighborhoods and bike-share programs and bikes, parts and accessories have been in short supply, the attention to such things has focused on the ways they affect young, upwardly mobile people in trendy urban neighborhoods--where, to be fair, the growth in the number of cyclists seems to be greatest.

An article in today's Forbes magazine illustrates, if unintentionally, a possible cause and effect of the phenomena I've mentioned.  In it, Jeffrey Steele lists, as his title says, "buildings supporting pedal power."  The office and residential towers he mentions feature dedicated bicycle parking rooms, some with security cameras and other amenities.  Some of those buildings also include lockers where cyclists can stow their bike-related stuff.  The commercial buildings he mentions also have washrooms or even showers and changing rooms and, in one instance, a cafe.

The bike room at 45 Main Street in DUMBO, Brooklyn (Photo from Two Trees Management)

It all sounds really good.   I know this city well enough, however, to see that all of those buildings are places where the residents or workers are the sort of young and affluent (or, at least, upwardly mobile) folks I mentioned at the beginning of this post.  Now, I don't have anything against young afflueint people--OK, I get a bit envious of people making more in their first job out of college than I've ever made (I shouldn't have graduated into a recession with a liberal arts degree, right?). My issue is this:  Bicycling and cyclists will never get the respect, or at least escape the scorn and hostility, of greater society until, well, all segments of greater society start cycling for transportation and recreation.  Also, I think cycling won't become a "people's choice" in the United States or other nations that don't have the cycling culture of some European countries until people who ride to low-wage jobs on handed-down, salvaged or bought-for-cheap bikes are given the same attention and respect as the Instagram images one sees rolling down bike lanes in Williamsburg or other havens of the young, rich and hip.

So, I hope that, if nothing else, World Bicycle Day becomes a way to give all cyclists--rich, poor, male, female, genderqueer and ahem, white, black, brown, yellow, red or whatever color--the respect we deserve for getting to where we want and need to go in a socially and environmentally conscious--and fun!--way.

Oh, and  remember that you can "fuel" your ride for free at your nearest Dunkin' Donuts, Krispy Kreme or Tim Horton’s!

White, Male, Single And Five Feet Wide

Coming across two articles got me to thinking about the latest "boom" in bicycling.

While I certainly see more people cycling to work and school, or for pleasure, than I did in my youth, I can't help but to conclude, at least from my own observations,  that the demographics of cycling really haven't changed during the more than four decades I have been a committed cyclist.  

These days, I almost never ride more than a few blocks before I see another cyclist who's old enough to have a driver's license.  Time was when I could ride all day and not see another adult on a bike, even when the weather was nice.  

To be sure, there I see more nonwhite and female cyclists now than I did then.  But most of the folks I see riding on the streets, on the paths or in the parks are white and male--and young.  Apparently, the situation is similar in San Francisco and other cities.  

If bike lanes in that city are indeed "five feet wide, white and male", they are also most likely young and single.  In some parts of this city, I rarely see adults, male or female--let alone families--on bicycles.  I have never had children, but I imagine it can be difficult for families to ride together, especially if the children vary widely in age--and if one has a disability.

I never thought about that last point until I read about the Kamps in Ankeny, Iowa.  Nine years ago, the mother, Angie (who shares my mother's name!) gave birth to triplets--at 25 weeks.  While Annalise, Brenna and Lucy all had complications, Brenna has had it worst, with cerebral palsy, epilepsy, hydrocephalus.  

When they were younger, the girls, Angie and their father Brad rode together on tandem trikes. Now Annalise and Lucy can ride on their own, but it's more difficult for even her mom or dad to ride a bike with Brenna because "she's gotten bigger", which means that "if she leans one way or another, it kind of takes the whole bike down."

Now the Kamps are in the running for The Great Bike Giveaway, its prize being an adaptive tandem cycle in which an adult can ride on the rear.  Whoever gets the most votes wins the bike.

I don't know the Kemps, but I'm rooting for them--and for more people who are unlike the young white male I once was to ride.  Not that I have anything against young white dudes--or single people (I am still one, after all!), but because cycling has opened up the world to me, I want to see more of the world cycling.

Who Owns The Road In Gaborone?

I own the road:  I pay road tax.

I've heard some version of this argument over the years.  What drivers often forget is that those of us who don't drive are paying all of the same taxes as those who use their cars to get to the corner store.  As I pointed out to someone who accused me of taking "his" parking space, the only tax I don't pay that a driver pays is the one levied on gasoline.  But, in a sense, I pay for it, as other taxes, at least to some degree, subsidize the relatively low cost of petrol here in the US, just as the deductions from my paychecks help to pay for road building and maintenance.

The "I pay, I own" argument is even more emphatic, or vehement, in those places where a newly-emergent middle class is forsaking two wheels and pedals in favor of four wheels and gas pedals.  That, of course, was the story of Chinese cities early in this century.  Now it seems to be the narrative in Gaborone, the capital of Botswana.

Whereas most people rode bikes to school or work just a few years ago, now the bicycle has a double stigma:  It is seen as archaic and something that you use only if you're poor.  

I've never been to Gaborone, but according to BBC correspondent Sharon Tshipa, it's "the worst place in the world to ride a bike."  Not only are the drivers as reckless as the worst kinds of teenagers, they are quite open in expressing their hostility toward cyclists.  Some even threaten or promise to mow down riders.

These dangers to bicycle riders’ physical safety and mental well-being are compounded by hazards to their internal medical condition. Gaborone has some of the world’s worst air quality.  The sheer volume of vehicular traffic would, by itself, be enough to degrade the city’s environment.  But a particular quality of the city’s fleet makes things worse.  While some new cars are imported from neighboring South Africa, many more used vehicles come from other countries, where they failed to meet emission standards.

Whether or not Gaborone is the worst place to cycle, it’s sad to see people forsake their bikes, and disturbing that such hostility has developed against remaining cyclists.  From what I understand, some Chinese cities are re-discovering the bicycle.  Perhaps Gaborone will do likewise one day.

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.

The Kids Aren't Riding: Why That Matters

Depending on where you live, you might think that this is a great time to be in the bicycle business.   More and more adults are pedaling to work and for fun.  And wherever you look, new bike shops are opening, the online business be damned.

At least, that is the picture you'd see in certain urban areas and, perhaps, some inner-ring suburbs.  And most of those adults you see riding are relatively young and well-educated.

It is among that demographic in areas like Boston, Portland, San Francisco and Seattle that one sees bicycle culture flourishing.  On the other hand, in areas where people are poorer, older and less educated, one sees few adult cyclists, and nearly all of them are male.  As often as not, they are riding machines "rescued" from basements and junk piles, and seem to be held together by duct tape.

Those older, poorer and less educated people aren't the ones who are driving the bike business.  They don't buy new bikes or even spend spend money to refurbish old ones, and they certainly aren't the ones buying hand-tooled leather-and-oak craft-beer bottle holders. If they go to bike shops, it's because their bikes have problems they can't fix themselves.

I am not conjecturing:  I see such riders on my way to work or any other time I venture out of Hipster Hook and into the outlying areas of my city.

Those folks are not fueling all of those bike cafes serving Marin Macciatos or Linus Lattes.  Nor is another group of people.  The reason is that the cohort I'm about to mention doesn't ride at all.  At least, fewer and fewer of them are.

I am talking about children and adolescents.  While sales of adult bicycles and accessories are on the rise, that of bikes and related items for kids is plummeting.  At least, that's what industry analysts are saying.  They are genuinely worried about the future of the children's bicycle industry.

Time was when bikes for kids were the "bread and butter" of most bike shops.  I can recall such a time:  Shops were busiest in the Spring, around the time the school year began and during the weeks leading up to Christmas.  In fact, shops often had "layaway" plans for kids' bikes, in which the buyer paid for the bike over a period of time.  It was sort of like a "Christmas Club" for bikes.  

(I remember having a Christmas Club when I was a child and adolescent.  Nearly all banks offered them.  If I recall correctly, I opened my first one for a dollar a week when I was about ten years old.  When I started delivering newspapers and other work, I increased the amount I saved.  Do banks still offer such accounts?)

Even though most shops have at least a couple of kids' bikes for sale, not many seem to be sold.  Instead, I reckon, most such bikes are sold in department stores.  In a way, I can understand the reasoning:  Most parents can only, or want to, pay as little as possible for a bike that the kid will outgrow in a couple of years, if not sooner.  And, since there are more single-kid households than there were when I was growing up (I have three siblings; we weren't seen as a large family), there's less of a chance the bike will be "passed down".  

Aside from changes in the family structure, there is another compelling reason why kid's bike sales are falling:  Fewer and fewer kids want new bikes for Christmas or other occasions.  Instead, they want electronic toys.   I would also imagine that other outdoor activities are becoming less popular with young people for this reason. 

Finally, I will offer an observation that might help to further explain the decline of the children's bicycle industry:  Today, many kids are discouraged or even forbidden from venturing outside by themselves, or even in the company of other kids.  These days, when I see kids under 14 or so on bikes, they are accompanied by adults.  The days of kids going out and exploring on two wheels seem to be over.

So why should readers of this blog care about the children's bicycle industry?  Well, we might be keeping the adult bicycle industry thriving.  But how often do we buy new bikes?  After a certain point, we don't buy a whole lot of accessories:  When we have what we need (and want), we tend to stop buying.  

Also, in a point I don't enjoy bringing up, none of us is going to be around forever.  So when we go to that great bike lane in the sky, who will take our place?  Will today's adolescents ditch their X-boxes (or whatever they play with now) and climb over two wheels?  We should hope so; so should the bike industry.

Who Are We?

We're white.  We're male.  After our training rides in the park, we wheel our flashy carbon-fiber machines under canopies of luxury condo buildings.

We're male, too.  But we're brown and black.  We pedal dilapidated-looking-bikes--or bikes that we're not supposed to be able to afford because, well... We don't speak English well, or at all.  We're probably undocumented, to boot,

We are also male--and could be white, brown or black--but we're not likely to be yellow.  We are riding bikes because...we can't afford to drive.  Or we can't drive because we've lost our licenses, or couldn't get them in the first place.

The Rev. Laura Everett describes each of these stereotypes about cyclists in her Daily Beast editorial, "We Need To Ditch All The Old Cliches About Cyclists."  She makes a very good case against each of those cariactures, using data (e.g., that the majority of cyclists are indeed poor, but don't necessarily fit into the second and third stereotypes) from various studies I have mentioned in some of my earlier posts.

She also makes a very interesting point:  During the two previous "golden ages" of cycling in the US--1890-1910 and the 1970s--cycling was seen as a pastime of the leisured class.  And, once it lost that status, cycling fell into a steep decline.  The first "boom" ended when automobiles became affordable to average working people. (Interestingly, during the 1890s, a bicycle cost what an average worker earned in year!)  The second declined with a deep recession fueled by a spike in petrol prices and suffered its death blow when the election of Ronald Reagan ended the first major environmental movements in the US.

She sees that we are in a third "golden age" of cycling. In order to sustain it, she says, all of the stereotypes have to be shattered. Cycling will never become mainstream if it is not seen, by planners and the general public alike, as a vital link in the transportation system.  That, in turn, will not happen if cycling is seen only as a leisuretime activity of the privileged or as the "last resort" of the poor, nonwhite or criminal classes.

For her part, Rev. Everett says she began cycle-commuting because she was a poor recent graduate who was just starting her career.  Seven years later, she continues to ride because, as she says, it really is the best transportation option for her--and because she enjoys it.

To me, she sounds like the kind of cyclist the public needs to know more about if cycling is to become mainstream  And, I must add:  She's a woman.  Thus, she can't help but to break the stereotype.  I  like to believe that I am, too.

Bike Shares-- And Social Class?

Yesterday, I wrote about the bike-share program that begins today in Los Angeles.  I was happy to learn that such a program is commencing in one of the first cities people associate with the automobile.  And I found it interesting, to say the least, that city officials hope that the bike-share program will help to bolster ridership in the city's Metro system, which has been on the decline.

If that goal is realized, it will buck trends seen in other cities that have bike-share programs.  In some places, like Washington DC, those who commute on share bikes are using them in lieu of subways and buses, not automobiles.  

Although I have not seen such data for my hometown, New York, I would suspect something similar is happening.  After all, the commuter who is most likely to ride a Citibike--or to be a bike commuter--lives somewhere in Manhattan below 125th Street, or in Astoria (where I live), Long Island City, Greenpoint, Williamsburg or other Brooklyn or Queens neighborhoods just across the East River from the United Nations.

Before they started riding bikes to work, those commuters were probably taking the subways, which bisect their neighborhoods. If they work in downtown or Midtown Manhattan, they would have been riding the subway for only a few stops:  fifteen or twenty minutes, no more than half an hour.

In contrast, someone who drives to work--or takes one of the express buses or trains--probably lives further away, in southern and eastern Queens neighborhoods like Bayside or Cambria Heights or southern Brooklyn areas such as Mill Basin or Dyker Heights.  Or they live outside city limits altogether.  Typically, those who drive to work or are taking the Long Island Rail Road (Yes, it's spelled as two words!) or Metro North have commutes of an hour or more each way.  Needless to say, few of them are going to start riding bicycles to work, even if Citibike installs ports in front of their houses!

Now, some of those commuters--particularly those who live on the North Shore of Nassau County or in certain parts of Westchester and Bergen counties--are rich. But most are middle- or working- class people who live in those areas because they simply could never afford a house, or even an apartment, big enough for their families in Manhattan or the nearby Brooklyn and Queens neighborhoods.   More than a few of them are contractors or have other kinds of businesses that requir them to haul a lot of equipment into, and out of, Manhattan or the areas near it.   I am not a sociologist, but I feel confident in concluding, from my own observations, that most such commuters are not cyclists.

I mention all of these things because reading about the launch of the LA bike share program got me to thinking about things I've noticed during the three decades I've been cycling in New York.  As I've mentioned in other posts, back in the mid-'80s, the neighborhoods that now comprise what I call Hipster Hook were mostly blue-collar, white-ethnic enclaves (Greeks and Italians in Astoria, Poles and Irish in Greenpoint, for example).  In those neighborhoods, people simply didn't ride bikes once they were old enough to drive. (Many never rode bikes, period.)  Very often, I would ride along the East River and New York Bay from Astoria Park all the way to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge--or even to Coney Island--without encountering another cyclist.

People who rode for fun, or even to commute, lived mainly in places like Greenwich Village, the Upper East and West Sides and Park Slope.  Those were home mainly to single people or young couples with varying amounts of disposable income--and without children.  Most didn't live far from where they worked, or they were artists or independent business people of one kind or another.  

In those days, the blue-collar and middle-class people I've described rarely, if ever, encountered cyclists--or anyone--from the milieu I described in the previous paragraph. But, as places like Williamsburg started to fill up with trust-fund kids on fixed-gear bikes, older and poorer residents looked at them as "privileged children" who were "taking over" their streets and sidewalks--and other public spaces.

Thus, older residents started to equate bicycles with privilege.  I guess it's easy to resent someone who looks like he or she is having fun--and is younger and fitter than you--when you're fighting traffic (or the crowds on the buses and trains)  to get to and from a job you hate so that you can pay for things your kids don't appreciate.  

I can't help but to notice that any time people express their displeasure over new bike lanes that take away one of the lanes on which they were accustomed to driving, or when a Citibike port appears on their block, they say that the city is catering to "privileged children".  Yes, they--as often as not--use that phrase.

I guess that, even at my age, I am one of the "privileged children"!

Joking aside, I got to thinking about the experiences and observations I've described when I learned that LA city officials hope that the new bike share program will bring riders back to the Metro system.  What I found especially revealing is the finding that one cause of the decline in Metro ridership is gentrification:  working- and middle-class families are being priced out of the areas that offer mass transportation.  So, while I hope the new bike share program is successful, I can't help but to wonder how it will entice people who've had to move further away from their jobs--and, possibly, had to take second jobs--to ride bicycles to a Metro system--or jobs--that are further away from wherever they were living before they were dispalced.

In brief, I couldn't help but to wonder whether the LA Bike Share program--or, more important, the hope that it will bring people back to the Metro--might reveal, or magnify, social and economic class differences in the way people commute.  

Cycling Out Of Poverty?

Time was, not long ago, when one "graduated" from riding a bicycle.  In the US, that usually happened (and, sometimes, still happens) when someone gets his or her driver's license.

In much of the world, though, people have left their bicycles behind when they moved up on the socio-economic ladder--or when automobiles and petrol became more affordable.  Some of the newly-affluent (or middle-class) have continued to cycle for recreation, but for the most part, new motorists distance themselves from motorless two-wheeled vehicles in much the same way they might try to get as far away from the slums and working-class districts in which they had been living.

The phenomenon I've just described happened with increasing frequency in Europe:  It seemed that I saw fewer and fewer cyclists on each trip I took from 1980 until 2001.  Lately, though, there's been a resurgence in cycling, mainly among young people,in northern European cities like Amsterdam and Copenhagen.  In the Danish capital, people who can easily afford the high auto and petrol prices choose to cycle because it's easier to navigate the city's traffic on two wheels, and because it's a way to de-stress.

We are also seeing people cycle because they can, though perhaps on a lesser scale, in some North American cities like Portland, San Francisco, New York and Montreal. However, in urban areas of emerging countries like China, the bicycle is still seen as something one escapes from, rather than on:  In Beijing in particular, automobiles are signs of prosperity and two wheels spin in a cycle of downward mobility.

However, there are still parts of the world in which the bicycle can be a vehicle out of poverty, so to speak.  One such place is East Africa, where New York-based Bicycles Against Poverty sells bicycles to local people on installment plans matched to their circumstances and conducts repair workshops, among other things.  

The best part, though, is that BAP engages with local communities by buying bicycles from Roadmaster, a Ugandan manufacturer--and, best of all, training local staff to conduct workshops and in financial management.  Bicycle distribution is determined by the answers received on applications; as the organization's website says, BAP "aims to strike a balance between an individual's need for a bicycle and their (sic) ability to pay for it".

It will be interesting to see where this model leads those who buy the bikes. One cause for optimism is that the BAP model seems to avoid the colonial paternalism of too many aid programs, which almost invariably leads to mismanagement and corruption. Will that lead local people to develop their own sustainable communities?  Or will prosperity lead them away from the bicyles?

Why Do The Editors Of "Bicycling" Think New York Is The Best City For Cycling In The USA?

If you read Bicycling, you already know the magazine has just rated my hometown, New York City, as the best city for cycling in the USA.

I am always suspicious of "best of" ratings in any subject. Even when using the most objective criteria, people come to different conclusions about what is "best".

Now, I grant you that more people are riding bikes now than at any other time I can recall.  Best of all, the riders aren't all lycra-clad racer wannabes or twenty-year-olds on tires wider than those on a Hummer.  People are actually riding to work, shop, visit galleries and museums and attend concerts, ballgames and school. Some are riding, well, to ride.

We also have bike lanes, some of which are completely segregated from the streets.  And, of course, we have a bike-share program that has proved immensely popular.  These would have been all but unimaginable only a few years ago.  Moreover, the number of bike shops has grown exponentially a decade after it seemed that online retailers would wipe out all but a few brick-and-mortar establishments. 

But--not to dump Gatorade on anybody's Gran Fondo--I have to wonder whether all of the things I've mentioned actually make New York the "best" cycling city.

Now, it's hard to argue that a bike-share program isn't good for a city's cycling infrastructure and culture.  On the other hand, as I've mentioned in other posts, bike lanes don't necessarily make cycling safer or entice more people to ride.   For one thing, some are so poorly-designed that they actually put cyclists in more peril than they would have found themselves while cycling on the street.  This is particularly true in intersections or spots where lanes begin or end.  For another, some motorists become resentful--and, as a result more agressive and confrontational-- because they feel the lanes have taken parking spaces and roadway against them.  

Even more to the point, when bicycles are segregated from traffic, motorists don't learn how to interact with bicycles, and cyclists don't learn the safest ways to ride.  As I've mentioned in at least one other post, such awareness is what makes many European cities safer (or, at least, to seem so) than their counterparts in the US.

Finally, I have noticed that the Big Apple Bike Boom, if you will, is not spread across the city.  I see many other cyclists on the streets of my neighborhood, Astoria, which is the northern end of what I like to call "Hipster Hook".  The communities of Long Island City, Greenpoint and Williamsburg, as well as the area around the Navy Yard, are part of it, and are full of young, well-educated, sometimes creative and often ambitious people, most of whom are white.  Those characteristics are shared by the cycling-rich neighborhoods of (mostly downtown) Manhattan.  

On the other hand, one still finds relatively few cyclists in the poorer and darker (in residents' skin hues) neighborhoods of central and eastern Brooklyn, upper Manhattan, southeast Queens, the north shore of Staten Island or almost anywhere in the Bronx.  The same holds true for the older white blue-collar neighborhoods of central Queens, southwestern Brooklyn and much of Staten Island.  Moreover, one almost never sees a female cyclist in any of those areas.   

So, while I am happy to see that there are more cyclists--and, most important of all, more consciousness about cycling--here in the Big Apple, I am not sure that those things make it the "best" cycling city in the US.  And we are certainly nowhere near as bike-centric as any number of European cities are.

Cycling, Football And Sociology

In an earlier post, I noted that some of the best teams in the World Cup football (soccer, to Yanks) tournament represent some of the world's top cycling nations--and that the US is in ascendancy in both sports.

In following the tournament and the opening stages of the Tour de France, I realized another striking parallel between the two sports.  In the traditional powerhouses of cycling and football, the top players and riders come from the ranks of the poor or working class.  Much of the peloton could just as easily have been working in a factory or farm had their cycling talents not been discovered and developed.  In fact, at the beginning of his professional career, at least one journalist wondered whether Eddy Mercx had the desire or discipline to win because he was "bourgeois"?  How bourgeois was he?  His father owned a grocery store and had just acquired another.  In purely Marxist terms that indeed made Mercx pere "bourgeois", but hardly made his son a "rich kid."

Adonia Lugo, a bike advocate and anthropologist in Los Angeles

Football players have traditionally come from backgrounds similar to those of cyclists, although there is a greater presence of immigrants, or children of immigrants, on the pitch than one finds in the peloton. Still, one rarely finds someone in football or cycling team kit who had the opportunity to do other things.

Here in the US, things are different.  Both sports are seen as suburban and middle-class.  It's true that not many of our cyclists or footballers have come from the inner cities or farmlands.  Rather, the hotbeds of both sports are found mainly in middle-to-upper class suburbs on the two coasts rather than in the Rust Belt.

Ironically, the teams that represented the US in the three prewar World Cup tournametns were primarily blue-collar industrial workers.  They were immigrants, or the children of them, who lived in the sooty enclaves of New Jersey and New England factory towns.  Their last hurrah came in the first postwar tournament when they pulled off one of the biggest upsets in the history of sport:  They beat the mighty British team in the tournament's opening game.