Whether You Autumn Or Fall, Please Don't Take A Header!

A few posts ago, I made a lame pun to explain why I prefer "autumn" to "fall", especially when it comes to cycling.

No one has ever autumned off his or her bike.  On the other hand, just about every cyclist has taken a fall.  

I have taken a few in my time.  None resulted in my missing any significant amount of time from riding. Ironically, the only injuries that kept me off my bike for more than a few days were not cycling-related.  Ditto for the one other event that kept me out of the saddle:  my surgery.

Of the falls I have taken, two resulted in my head making any contact with whatever I was riding, and fell, on.  

The first came when I was pedaling from Park Slope, where I lived at the time, to a school in the Bronx where I'd been conducting poetry workshops as an artist-in residence. I had just spun my way across the Greenpoint Avenue  Bridge and veered left onto Van Dam Street, in an industrial area of Long Island City, Queens.  About two blocks into Queens, a truck driver flung his door open, and into my side--causing the one and only somersault I've ever done on my bike.  Some would argue it wasn't a true somersault, as I didn't push my hands out in time to keep me from rolling on my head.

The second time, I was riding my mountain bike in Forest Park.  I was pedaling at  high-octane pace and was in my own little zone, not paying attention to my surroundings.

Well, in my path was a mound the BMXers used to flip themselves in the air.  I rode up on it--in the wrong direction, on the nearly-vertical side.  

Well, I flipped over. But I didn't flip back. Instead of landing on my wheels, as any of the 14-year-old kids would have, I came to earth upside down.

Those 14-year-olds rushed to my side.  "We really thought you were gonna die!", one of them chimed after helping me up. I never lost consciousness, but when I got up, I noticed that my helmet had broken.  In two.

OK.  So now you probably have figured out my position on helmets.  Yes, I wear them and encourage others to do likewise.  

Even though I had a helmet protecting me in each of those accidents, I count the lucky stars I didn't see when I feel that I have never taken a "header".  I hope you haven't either.

A line drawing of the world's first "header".  From Roads Were Not Built For Cars.

It seems that in the days of high-wheeled bicycles (a.k.a. "penny farthings"), "headers" were a fairly common occurrence. And, since cyclists in those days commonly rode front wheels of 60 inches (about 1.75 meters) or more, the impact from such a fall must have been even greater.  

Some would use the fact that people survived such falls as an argument against helmet-wearing.  That's a valid argument, as far as it goes.  However, there is also this to consider:  In those days, no one seemed to know much about concussions, let alone their long-term effects.

So...Yes, I will continue to wear a helmet as I cycle in autumn--and be grateful I haven't taken a "header".  At least not yet.

Fixed On Ice

After the winter storms we've had, there are patches of ice and encrusted snow on little-used sidewalks and streets.  Fortunately, I did not encounter any of them on my ride to work this morning.  I also didn't find any on my way home, except for some I found along the path in Flushing Meadow-Corona Park.

Sometimes I like to detour through the park, even though it adds to my commute, because the park is both nice and has a lot of resonance for me.  If you saw Men In Black, you'd recognize it as the site of the Unisphere, perhaps the most iconic structure of the 1964-65 World's Fair, which my family attended when I was a child.  

Going through the park also allows me to avoid the area around Main Street in Flushing, where I encounter the heaviest and most chaotic traffic to be found between my apartment and my job.

But at least those streets are kept clear.  Such is not the case for sections of the park, which sees few visitors on weekdays in the midst of winter.  

As you may know, I installed a fixed gear on Marianela last week.  There's a very fine art to riding one on a glazed street or path.   

Of course, you probably won't embark on a ride across a glacier on your fixie, if you're going to ride anything at all.  But when you come upon a frozen puddle in your path, the best thing to do is to keep your line and move ahead.  

As best as I can tell, the way to do that is simply to release all of the tension in your muscles, at least to the degree that you can.  A white-knuckled grip will only make you more likely to skid and fall; so will any sudden attempt to stop or any attempt to accelerate.  

The best way to pedal is to let your legs continue to spin at whatever pace you were riding before you saw the ice.  Not only shouldn't you try to accelerate; you also shouldn't try to dramatically slow down (or stop) your bike.  You just want to let your legs keep up their momentum.  

Any attempt to accelerate or to make a stop will land you on your side, or some place where it will hurt even more.  So, for that matter, will making a turn.  If there's an obstacle on the ice, you're better off trying to ride through than to turn or slow down for it.  

Ironically, I took a minor fall today, but not on ice.  I was about fifteen minutes from home tonight when I somehow jerked my handlebar when pushing down on my left pedal after the traffic signal turned green.  I flipped onto my side, spilling the contents of my baskets.  Fortunately, two very nice young Asian men saw me and helped me to get up and gather the stuff that spilled.    They really must respect their elders in their culture!