Two Women Riding In The Rockaways

 

Today’s ride to Point Lookout was pleasant in all of the ways one could hope: The weather was warm, but not overly so; I had to pedal into just enough wind on my way out to make things interesting and I seemed to have just beaten the summer weekend crowds. Pleasant and pretty unremarkable, except perhaps for two women I saw.

The first rode with me across the Veterans Memorial Bridge to the Rockaway Peninsula and then to the boardwalk, where we parted ways. I’d guess that she’s within a decade of my age. She rode a Trek road bike in, probably, the smallest frame size available in that model. But I wouldn’t describe her as petite so much as compact:  Her body seemed to concentrate not only strength, but also the effort and discipline she put into cycling and, I suspect, whatever else she does.

The second, whom I encountered—ironically enough—just before I entered the VM Bridge on my way back, seemed about as different from the first. Tall and lithe, she could be as much a model as an athlete.  If the first one concentrated power, the second extended it through her long limbs. She rode what appeared to be a flat-bar road bike, also from Trek. The young man, who seemed to be her boyfriend or fiancé, pedaled a bike that looked like hers, except for its dropped handlebars.

On reflection, I recall a striking similarity between those two women:  They seemed, each in her own way, very confident and in command of their bodies.  The petite woman on her road bike pedaled in deliberate strokes and perched herself forward in an unapologetic yet joyful way. The taller woman kept pace with her male companion and, perhaps, could have ridden faster. But something in her body language told me she wasn’t trying merely to be in sync with him, and a brief glimpse of her face led me to believe she wasn’t deferential to him.

I am glad to have seen each of those women riding confidently, competently and comfortably in her own way. And they remind me of what this administration, with its patriarchal religious and oligarchic allies, are trying to take from us.

(I apologize for not taking pictures of either of the women, or today’s ride.)

Albany Bike Shop Is Historical

 There is a particular kind of heartbreak to living in New York City—and, I suppose, other large metropolises:  You could lose your favorite bookstore, cafe or bike shop. It might’ve been in the same location since your parents were born but it could close for any number of reasons, more than a few of which have to do with real estate markets.

I haven’t been in Albany in a while, so I don’t know whether the forces of capitalism and pure-and-simple change are as powerful as they are in my hometown.  But I’m happy to know that at least one of the town might get some help in ensuring that it can continue to serve its community.

The Downtube Bicycle Works and Cafe the capital of the Empire State since 1972.  That has just made them one of the first inductees into the New York State Historic Business Preservation 

The State’s Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation launched the NYSHBP earlier this year to “honor and promote businesses that have been in operation for at least 50 years and have contributed to their communities’ history . It is an “honorary program” which “provides educational and promotional assistance” to help ensure that businesses like Downtube “remain viable.”

After Harris Cylery in Newton, Massachusetts closed its doors last year, it’s hard to believe that any bike shop is safe.  But at least one can hope that the NYSHBP can help businesses like Downtube—and some other bike shops, cafes and bookstores I love—to stay open. Oh, if they had only been available for Gotham Book Mart.

Discounts—And Free Housing

 Listen to the news, and you’ll hear employers recount their woes in recruiting workers.  Some are offering incentives, such as cash bonuses  and flexible schedules.

And housing.  At least one employer—a bike shop owner—is offering his next mechanic free use of a house he owns.

Some might think that having some of the world’s most breathtaking scenery as a backdrop to one’s riding—and anything else in one’s life—might be reason enough to take a job at Cycles of Life in Leadville, Colorado.  And, of course, there are the added perks of industry discounts and the opportunity to blend passion and profession.

Turns out, those last two bonuses don’t carry as much currency as they once did.  Cycles of Life proprietor Brian Feddema placed a classified ad for a head mechanic/service manager nearly a month ago in Bicycle Retailer And Industry News (BRAIN).  He is offering free use of the 500 square foot house, within walking distance of the shop, in addition to pay of $20-25 hour and spring and fall performance bonuses, partly in the hope of casting a wider net.  “There is no one currently residing here in Leadville with the knowledge, skill set and drive we need,” he explained.

He once had a mechanic who stayed for seven years until “he moved away with his girlfriend.”  But, he said, mechanics typically stay for a couple of years because “most don’t consider it a profession.”

Jenny Kallista, president  of the Professional Bicycle Mechanics’ Association, said this is the first time she’s heard of an offer like Feddema’s. Ron Sutphin, the United Bicycle Institute president, “can only recall one recruitment offer that included housing.” That one, he said, “was some time ago, in Hawaii,” where the notoriously-expensive housing market is rivaled (at least in the US) only by San Francisco, New York and Los Angeles and perhaps a few other cities.

In addition to the reasons Feddema articulated, I can think of another why he’s offering free housing.  It has to do with another “perk” he can’t offer:  Bike mechanics and shop service managers can’t do their work remotely.