A Wall Across A Bike Lane--In Portland

Sometimes I won't use a bike lane because it is poorly-conceived, -built or -maintained.  Other times, as is often the case on the Queensborough-59th Street Bridge lane, it's simply too narrow and crowded, especially with ebikes and motorized scooters.  Or the lane may simply not go in the direction I need to go--or doesn't go anywhere at all.

I've mentioned those reasons in other post, along with the fact that some drivers park or pass--sometimes out of spite--in the lanes.  Also, cops often plant their patrol cars in them as they're taking breaks.  

There's another reason that I don't believe I've mentioned:  debris and obstacles, sometimes deliberately placed.  They range from broken bottles, tacks and nails to bricks, cinderblocks and larger objects.  Lately, someone built an actual wall across a bike lane in Portland, Oregon.

No one is sure of who built it, but some have observed that its architect and constructers must have been "amateurs."  While that could have made the structure even more hazardous than it could have been, it made the barrier easier to take apart.  

Remnants of the wall built across the N Concord bike path in Portland. (Photo by Jonathan Maus)

There is another interesting twist to this story, though.  In Portland, relationships between cyclists and non-cyclists are as contentious as they are in other place in the US.  But the wall's construction may have had little or nothing to do with antipathy toward cyclists.  Rather, it seems to have been placed to block a passage that connects two parts of the Overbrook neighborhood.  Homeowners live on one side; homeless encampments stand on the other.

So...The construction of the wall may have been illustrative of just how politicized not only the United States, but local communities, have become.  While the target may have been homeless people, but cyclists became collateral damage, if you will, whether or not that was the wall builder's (or builders') intention.

 

The Last Race?

Sometimes, it seems, people in other countries know the US political system and races even better than Americans known them. So it was not a surprise when, during a recent phone conversation, a friend in France asked for my opinions about the candidates for the Democratic party presidential nomination.

For now, I said, I am leaning toward Elizabeth Warren, though I also like Pete Buttigieg.  We are a year away from the election, so more than a few things could change my mind.  

Here's one:  If some candidate pledged to fund bicycling in any shape or form in the US, that might be enough to get my vote.

Of course, if it's so difficult for candidates to commit to establishing a healthcare system that doesn't leave people in poverty, or worse, when they have major medical problems, I don't think those same candidates are going to prioritize two-wheeled transportation, let alone a bike race.

That is, in essence, one reason why the Amgen Tour of California has been put "on hiatus," and why The Philly Cycling Classic, U.S. Pro Challenge, Tour de 'Toona and other major American races disappeared in recent years.  No less than Jonathan Vaughters, the current EF Education First team manager--and one-time US sprint champion--says as much.  "Municipalities or government entities are not going to sponsor cycling.  Our political system doesn't allow for that."  A result, he says, that we are not going to have " big-money, massive state-backed races like this new race in Saudi Arabia or the UAE Tour."  The money, he says, has to come from private sources.

The Amgen Tour of California was the last remaining UCI World Tour race in the US. During its 14-year history, it brought some of the world's most talented riders to these shores.  In last year's Tour, Travis McCabe nearly out-sprinted Peter Sagan, regarded as one of the world's best in that discipline.  The loss of such a race in America could be a particular blow to the cycling scene in the US because it is "aspirational," according to Adam Myerson, president of Cycle-Smart coaching services.  "We need people to watch" races like the AMTOC, he explained, "and want to be racers because of it."  Of course, they can watch footage (although it is sometimes grainy) of events taking place in Europe and elsewhere, but nothing motivates young people like seeing a hometown hero on home turf.

Kristin Klein, president of ATOC and vice president of AEG Sports (the events company behind ATOC), says that AEG is "trying to determine if there is a business model that will allow us to successfully re-launch the race in 2021." Some observers believe that while the loss of the Tour is a blow to European-style racing in the US, it might force ride organizers to reassess the organizational structure of cycling events to determine what works, and what doesn't.

While European-style racing has struggled in the US, other events, like Gran Fondos and gravel racing, have grown in popularity.  Myerson and others envision a structure similar to that of the New York Marathon:  An elite contingent of 100 or so riders would challenge for prizes and championships, followed by thousands of other participants who have helped to finance it with their entrance fees.

In other words, the US cycling scene could be remade into something different, but no less interesting, than its counterparts overseas.  Or one of the candidates could pledge some money for cycling events...

Keep Moving--On A Divvy, Manta-Ray or Featherstone

Some motorists see us as invaders, or as over-indulged, when we "take" "their" roadway and parking spaces simply by exercising the rights we have--let alone when bike lanes are built. 

Others, though, simply are baffled by us.  They are unaccustomed to seeing us, mainly because few, if any, Americans living today can recall a time when bicycles and cyclists were major presences in their cities or towns.  They certainly can't recall a time when bicycles were important parts of their community's culture and economy.

In some places, such a time really wasn't so long ago.  Detroit, Boston, New York and a few other cities had vibrant, if small, cycling communities during the "Dark Ages" of US bicycling:  roughly the two decades or so following World War II.  Also, a few colleges and universities, including Princeton and the US Military Academy (West Point) had very competitive cycling teams.

There are, however, a few more communities in which bicycles as well as bicycling were an important part of the history and culture, and even the economy.  One such place was Shelby, Ohio.  So was a much larger city about 500 kilometers west:  Chicago.

Mention the "Windy City" and, in regards to cycling, a certain name enters people's minds.  Hint: It starts with an "S".  If you grew up in the US, there's a good chance you rode--or had--one of their bikes. And, if you became an active rider or simply an enthusiast, you might have bought one of their top-of-the line bikes.

I'm talking, of course, about Schwinn, which manufactured bikes on the city's West Side for nearly a century.  But in 1900, it was just one of 30 bicycle manufacturers making its wares along Lake Street!  Perhaps not surprisingly, the "Second City" was also home to one of the most intense racing scenes, and vibrant cycle cultures, to be found anywhere in the US, or even the world.

While much of the current bicycle culture in American cities began with young, educated and affluent people--and is frankly consumeristic--Chicago's cycling culture thrived, then survived to the degree that it did, largely because of its industrial, working-class roots and immigrant (particularly German) communities.  This story is  one that the Chicago Design Museum tells with "Keep Moving:  Designing Chicago's Bicycle Culture," an exhibit it recently opened.

The Museum places a Divvy (from the city's bike-share program) alongside a Schwinn Manta-Ray and an 1891 Featherstone-- believed to be the first US bike offered with pneumatic tires--and other bikes that were made, or had some other significant connection to, Chicago.  There is also memorabilia related to the bikes, including material from Carter Harrison's successful campaign to become the city's mayor.

So why is Carter Harrison's important in the story of cycling in Chicago?  Well, to demonstrate his athletic bona fides, he wore his Century pin--signifying that he'd done a 100-mile bike ride--on his chest while riding his single-speed bike.  

And to think that a certain presidential candidate ridiculed a Secretary of State for falling off his bicycle! Hmm...Would El Cheeto Grande have won Harrison's election?

He's Not Running For Office: He's Pedaling For The Vote

Why do political candidates "run" for office?

That's a question David John Wilson might ask.

He is one of 16 candidates on the ballot for the mayoralty of Minneapolis, the city that gave us Prince and launched the career of Hubert Humphrey. It's perhaps no surprise that in such a city a candidate--namely Wilson--could run on a "Rainbows Butterflies Unicorns" ticket.

Also not surprising--especially considering that Minneapolis is perennially rated as one of the most bicycle-friendly cities in the US, and even the world--is that Wilson is conducting his campaign from, if not the seat of his pants, then the saddle of his bicycle.

Most days during his campaign, he has dressed like a unicorn, complete with horns--and American flags.  He calls this persona, if you will, "Votey McVoteface."  He has alternate costumes as well, including one of George Washington.  But, not surprisingly, it's Votey that gets him the most attention.

Creating Votey, and coming up with his platform, was a way of appropriating a term of derision, in much the way young blacks call each other the "n" word or gay man refer to each other, and sometimes themselves, as "faggots".  (Proponents of "queer studies" claim that they are appropriating the "q" word in a similar way.) Wilson says he's often heard the phrase "rainbows, unicorns and butterflies" used to mock people who express ideas and points of view that are progressive, or merely different.

At the start of the campaign, he pledged to ride 1000 miles around the city as Votey.  He admits that he has no chance of winning the election. The purpose of his campaign, he explains, is to "make a difference" by helping to increase voter turnout and getting young people interested in politics:  things he couldn't do in years past, when he worked at the polls.

"I would like to dream that I could be mayor but that's not really what this is about," he says.  "This is about getting out the vote, this is about embracing the city that I love."

In other words, it's not about the destination; it's about the journey:  the way of a cyclist.

Who Voted For The Bicycle Tax?

Someone--I forget who, exactly--told me that growing up is becoming what you hate.  I think most of us have had a day when we thought--or said--or, worse, did--something at which our younger selves would have recoiled.

So what does it mean when you hear something of which your younger self would have approved--and you agree with it?  Or when an opinion you agree with is expressed by someone your younger self wanted to be, but who now makes you cringe?

I am thinking now of day I heard exactly what I thought about the US invasion of Iraq and our meddling in the Middle East--with the exact reasons I had for my belief, expressed almost verbatim in the way I'd expressed it--from none other than Pat Buchanan.  And, I have to admit that even though I have long dismissed my youthful embrace of Ayn Rand's philosophy (such as it is) as a jejune fever-dream, there are still times I find myself siding with libertarians--at least to a point--on some issues.

So it is today.  But I am not the only left-ish person to find herself siding with anti-tax conservatives about a law just passed in Oregon.  

Last month, I wrote about the debate in the Beaver State legislature over a proposed bicycle tax.  The bill, in its original form, would have placed a levy on sales of new bicycles costing $500 or more.  Apparently, the authors of the bill thought bikes in that price range are "luxury" items.  I argued that if you are going to buy a new bike that you want to use for daily transportation, you have to spend at least that much if you want something that's reliable and will last.

One of the bill's authors--Lee Beyer, a Democrat--argued that it would ensure that cyclists had "skin in the game", ignoring the fact that cyclists pay the same taxes that everyone else pays.  A fellow Democrat, Earl Blumenauer--a Congressman who regularly appears on C-Span with a bicycle pin conspicuously attached to his lapel--also defended the tax, saying that it would "raise the profile of cycling."

Well, yesterday the State legislature voted in favor of the tax as part of a sweeping transportation bill.  Worse, the threshold for the $15 tax is not $500, but $200, and would apply to bikes with wheel diameters of 26 inches or more.

(Does that mean small-wheeled folding bikes are exempt?  What about 650s?)

Not surprisingly, Bike Portland publisher Jonathan Maus called the tax an "unprecedented step in the wrong direction."  He found an ally in Bill Currier, who blasted Governor Kate Brown's "endless obsession with finding new and innovative ways of taking money out of the pockets of Oregon taxpayers."

Who is Mr Currier?  The Oregon Republican Party Chairman!

From the New York Times

My concern about a bicycle tax is the same one I have almost any time a government tries to raise revenue for some ostensible purpose or another--in this case, improving bicycle and other transportation infrastructure.  New taxes--whether direct ones on sales or incomes, or less direct ones like lotteries or other government-sponsored gambling schemes--are sold to the public as a way of funding what people want and need, whether it's education or infrastructure improvements.  Too often, however, the money doesn't find its way to those stated purposes.  I've a feeling that whatever is raised from bicycle sales won't go to bike lanes (which, more often than not, are of questionable value anyway) or other facilities for cycling, or even for other forms of non-automotive transportation.

A Tax On Bicycles?

Oregon state legislators are debating the idea of levying a tax on new bicycle purchases.  

Now, my younger self--the teenage Ayn Rand acolyte--would have winced at the idea.  But my older, more radical self--what I am today--can see the need for civil rights legislation and--egad!--even the need for a single-payer healthcare system.  Still, I'm not sure how I feel about a tax on bicycle sales.

According to lawmakers, the money raised would be used to pay for improvements to the state's bicycle infrastructure, commonly regarded as among the best in the USA.  That, on its face, sounds both good and fair.  Or does it?

State Senator Lee Beyer (D) is one of the authors of the proposal.  He says he helped to create it in response to a common refrain among his colleagues:  that bicycle owners "ought to contribute to the system."  Sen. Beyer thinks that's a good idea, except for one thing.  He says that this idea ignores this fact about cyclists in The Beaver State:  "most of them also own a car".  That means, of course, that they are already paying taxes and registration fees which, ostensibly, help to improve and maintain the state's transportation system--of which the "bicycle infrastructure" is a part.  At least, that would be, in effect, its status if such a proposal becomes law.

That leads me to a question:  What, exactly, do they mean by "bicycle infrastructure"?  Are they talking about bike lanes and paths? If so, will engineers and planners who are actually cyclists be recruited to conceive and build them?  Or, is the legislature thinking about bicycle education classes?  For whom--cyclists? drivers?  kids?

Pardon my cynicism, but I have seen too many poorly-conceived, -built and -maintained bike lanes, and have encountered too much ignorance about laws and policies--let alone the actual experience of cycling--among law makers, law enforcement officials, planners and members of the media to have much faith in any government's intention or ability (at least the way things are currently done) to make their jurisdictions more "bicycle friendly".

Also--again, please pardon my cynicism--I don't believe (until I see otherwise) that the tax money will actually go to "improving or maintaining bicycle infrastructure" or making a place more "bicycle friendly", whatever those things mean.  I have seen too many instances in which money that a government takes from its people for some purpose doesn't go to that purpose.  One of the best examples are state lottery systems, which were supposed to supplement budgets for education and other purposes.  Instead, money raised from state-sponsored gambling has been used in lieu of money that had been raised through other taxes and budgeted.

Then, of course, there is the matter of how this will affect bike shop owners.  At one point in my life, I had the opportunity to open a bike shop:  A couple of people would have provided the money.  Working in a couple of bike shops convinced me not to do it:  My would-be investors, who made money in other industries, were astounded that profit margins were as small as they were--and that the profits were even smaller on high-end bikes than on cheaper bikes.

(There's an old joke that goes something like this:  Go into the bike business, and you can end up with a small fortune.  How?  Start with a big one.)

The tax proposed in Oregon would be levied on bikes costing $500 or more. These days, that amount of money hardly buys what most of us would consider a "high performance" or "high end", let alone "luxury", machine.  If you are going to commute every day and want something reliable--let alone something you might enjoy riding on your day off--you need to spend at least that much, at  least if you are buying a new bike.  

But even if that tax is paid by cyclists lower on the cost and income scale than lawmakers intended, it will still affect a fairly small number of bicycles.  One of the factors that keeps automobile sales as high as they are is that many drivers replace their cars every few years, whether or not they need to.  While there are cyclists who want to have whatever they saw in the latest edition of a bicycle lifestyle cycling magazine, most cyclists tend to stick with a bike that serves them well for a long time.  We replace a tire here, a chain there, maybe a more major component after a few years (or more), but a bike that isn't crashed can be ridden for decades with relatively little care.

So, in brief, you have to wonder just how much money a tax on new bicycles costing $500 or more would actually raise.  And you should be very, very skeptical about what is done with that money--especially when terms like "bicycle friendly" and "bicycle infrastructure" are tossed around.

Vote Bike!

Today is Election Day here in the US.

I believe I have heard, "Did you vote?" and "Who did you vote for?" (or "Who are you going to vote for?") more often today than I heard during the last few elections combined. 

The talking heads are right when they describe this year's election as an "enigma" or "paradox":  It's been a long time since so many people have paid attention, even though this year's major party candidates for the Presidency are the least-liked, and possibly the worst, in the history of this country.

I'm not sure that choosing one candidate over the other will make much difference for cycling in this country, so I suspect most cyclists will vote by the same criteria other voters use.  Perhaps Hillary Clinton will be somewhat better, simply because she is somewhat better on environmental issues, which is a bit like saying that any given country is a little better than Saudi Arabia on women's rights.  At least one can hope that Hillary's attention to issues such as greenhouse gases and mass transit might translate into policies, or even infrastructure, that will benefit cyclists.  On the other hand, you can pretty much bet that a man who thinks global warming is a hoax perpetrated by the Chinese will do nothing favorable to cyclists.

That is not to say that there's nothing at stake for cyclists or cycling in this election.  The biggest differences that voters can make in creating bicycle policy and infrastructure are found at the local level. So, elections for city councils, county and state legislatures as well as other local offices, some of which are being held today, can be a key to creating more "bike friendly" areas in the US.

Flag of the Samajwadi Party, India

To my knowledge, though, no major US media outlet has done anything like the "scorecard" The Guardian did in advance of last year's general election in Great Britain.  In it, each of the major parties is rated on a scale from one to ten in terms of its attention, or lack thereof, to cycling-related issues.  Perhaps not surprisingly, the UK Independence Party (the one that led the "Brexit"vote) scored zero, while the Greens scored ten. 

Can you imagine the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post or other newspapers rating the Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians, Greens or other parties--or, better yet, each of the candidates, especially during the Primaries.  Hmm...How would Jill Stein or Bernie Sanders compare to Ted Cruz or Donald Trump?