What's That Bike Doing On The Railroad Tracks?

 In previous posts, I've written about bicycles that ended up in the canals of Amsterdam, Paris and Brooklyn as well as rivers like the Tiber and even larger bodies of water like Jamaica Bay.

Probably the most common reason why bikes meet the same fate as mob victims in the Gowanus Canal (accordig to legend, anyway) is theft:  The perps don't know what else to do with the bike once they've used it for a getaway or joyride or realize that someone will recognize it, especially if it's from a municipal bike-share program.  Old bikes also get dumped when their owners realize what it cost to fix them, or they don't realize those bikes can't be fixed.  Or, people just want to get rid of them because they're disused and decaying.

Whatever the reasons, none can rationalize tossing a two-wheeler into the turbid or turbulent waters of a canal, creek, river, lake, bay or ocean.  Particularly indefensible is an incident that seems to be part of a pattern developing in Leeds and other parts of the UK.

According to a BBC report, vandalism, tresspass and other kinds of anti-social behavior have been on the rise in and around British railway facilities.  The Cross Gates station in Leeds seems to have been particularly hard-hit by such incidents, which include young people leaving or tossing bicycles in or alongside railroad tracks.

The incident shown in the surveillance video also reflects a particular ritual that seems to have developed around the practice:  One young person abandons  the bike on the platform edge before one of his peers drops it onto the tracks.

That sequence of events suggests, to me,  that it might be some sort of gang ritual:  The first young man might be leaving it for the other to toss in order to prove something or another.  Or, perhaps, the first young man simply didn't want responsibility if the bike-tossing caused injury or damage.

Whatever their motivation, no bike, no matter how inexpensive or ratty, deserves such a fate.

Reuniting "Scumbag Currency" With Its Rightful Owners

It was once common knowledge among New York City cyclists that if their bikes were stolen, the first place to look--and their best chance of getting them back--was on St. Mark's Place.  At night, there was an open-air market of pilfered bicycles of just about every kind.

I don't know whether St. Mark's is still the Grand Bazaar of stolen bikes, but from what I'm hearing, the business of stolen bikes still operates in a remarkably covert fashion.  I'm guessing the folks who steal and the ones who sell--who are often, though not always, the same people--know that losing anything without a motor and fewer than four wheels isn't high on the list of law enforcement priorities, whether because police the police don't have the resources or just don't care.  Also, with Craigslist and other online sites, it's a lot easier to sell the fruits of one's illicit labor.  Worse yet, some newer sites, like OfferUp, seem all but tailor-made for criminals.

One would think that with the proliferation of surveillance cameras, would-be crooks would be more reluctant to practice their dark arts.  But, the electronic devices only seem to embolden some perps.  Do they think they're going to become YouTube stars or something?

It seems that the situation is not unique to my hometown.  What's changed, though, is that in Denver metro area and other places, victims or their allies are taking matters into their own hands.  As an example, in nearby Fort Collins, cycling activist Dan Porter (who runs the website Your Group Ride) has "repossessed" two stolen bikes--including an $8000 machine he found leaning against a camper.  He admits "it was a crazy thing to do" but getting the bike to its rightful owner was worth the effort and risk.

Her sentiments were echoed by a woman in the area who prefers anonymnity.  She sets up aliases so she can perform "stings" on would-be sellers of bikes she finds on OfferUp and Facebook Marketplace.   While some might question her and Porter's methods--especially their bypassing of the police, she offers this rationale:  "At least if someone has their property back, I feel half of justice has been served." 

She also has an explanation of one factor that fuels the illegal yet overt business:  "The nice high-end bikes have become the 'scumbag currency' of town."

If Your Bike Is Stolen, It Might End Up In A Place Like This

During the early '80s, around the time I first moved back to New York, there was a bike shop that sold used bikes and parts, as well as some new accessories.  There were rumors about, shall we say, the provenance of some of the shop's merchandise.

The shop changed locations--though it remained in the same neighborhood--before closing down some years back.  I have to admit that I never patronized the shop myself because two people I knew at the time told me they spotted their bikes, which had recently been stolen, in the shop and an employee or the owner, I forgot whom, assaulted one of them when he pointed out his purloined bike. 

While most shops are owned and operated by honest people, whether they are cycling enthusiasts or families, there have always been the "bad apples" who deal in bike booty.  They flourish under, basically, the same conditions that support black and gray markets:  demand, scarcity, high prices and people who are desperate or dishonest.  The shop I mentioned just happened to be in a gentrifying  neighborhood full of young people--the sort of neighborhood where thieves look for bikes--abutting an area known for drug dealing and other crime.  It was on a border, if you will.

What got me to thinking about that shop, and that part of my life, was a news item about a bike theft ring that's been exposed via the Bike Index registry. In addition to keeping information about bikes, stolen or not, and about theft rings and markets for stolen bikes. It also synthesizes data that connects stolen bikes that fall into patterns.

One of those patterns linked a number of bikes stolen in Colorado with a shop in Ciudad Juarez,  a Mexican city just across the Rio Grande from El Paso, Texas.  I have never been to either city, but CJ has a reputation for poverty and lawlessness, much like the drug-ridden area I mentioned earlier.  From what I've heard and read about it, some people, especially teenaged boys and young men, get involved the trade of stolen or counterfeit goods because they have few, if any, other options.  And people routinely cross over from EP to take advantage of lower prices.

Now, to be fair, the Ciudad Juarez "discount," if you will, has mainly to do with the difference between the nations' currencies and the generally lower cost of living on the Mexican side.  But some merchandise is cheaper than it is across the border because of, well, the way it came across the border.

And so it was with Alexander's Bikes.  They posted bike after bike for sale on a local Facebook page that could be viewed only in Mexico or with a Mexican VPN.  Bike Index used photos and other data from those listings along with reports on Colorado cycling Facebook groups and other BI data to link 10 bikes out of a batch of 43 it examined to their owners.  All of those bikes were, not surprisingly, high-end machines.

In one way, you have to hand it to whoever "masterminded" the scheme:  It's unlikely, to say the least, that someone looking to buy a bike in Ciudad Juarez would've been keeping tabs on bikes stolen in Colorado--or that someone whose bike was stolen in Colorado would stumble upon a geo-restricted Facebook page.

It seems that Alexander's is now closed for good, probably because of the Colorado Attorney General's  investigation or simply the publicity the case garnered.  Alexander Espinosa Perez, who ran the shop, has denied any involvement in bike trafficking and the sale of stolen goods.  He's agreed to work with Mexican and US authorities, but he immediately deleted the shop's Facebook and TikTok pages and wiped its Instagram page clean of its content. 

It's not clear as to whether he'll be allowed to sell bikes again.  Now I'm wondering what became of the owner(s) and employees of the shop I mentioned at the beginning of this post.  

A Path For Stolen Bikes

Between 2005 and 2010, a number of European cities, mainly in the north and west, initiated bike-share programs.  Paris and Rome were among them.  Both ran into similar problems, among them vandalism and theft.  In both the City of Light and the Eternal City, bikes ended up at the bottom of bodies of water:  the Canal Saint Martin in Paris and the Tiber in Rome.  Also, a number of bikes went to--and a few were recovered in North Africa and Eastern Europe, particularly Romania.

The fact that so many bikes were not returned led Rome to pull the plug on its program, and for two companies to abandon the city.  The Velib program nearly met the same fate before a Spanish company, Smovengo, took it over and rebranded it as Velib Metropole in 2018.

Over the years, I have heard from friends and acquaintances in France and elsewhere that Romania is a common destination for goods, including everything from watches and designer clothing to priceless artwork, stolen in other parts of Europe. The reasons I've heard and read include everything from the relative poverty of the country to the corruption or inefficacy of police and government officials.  

Whatever the reasons, it seems that high-profile sports teams--including those in cycling--are not immune to the problem.  About a month ago, the Italian national team competed--and won seven medals--in this year's World track championships, held in Roubaix, Belgium (the end-point of the Paris-Roubaix race, a.k.a. "L'enfer du nord.).  The team stayed in a hotel just over the border in Lille, France that was selected specifically for its safety.

Well, we all know that stuff happens even in the safest places and structures.  The team was getting ready for its return home when 22 of its Pinarellos--including four with a distinctive gold--were stolen from a team van.  In total, those bikes were valued at around 400,000 Euros (about 451,790 USD).

Italian team members Simone Consonni, Filippo Ganna, Francesco Lamon and Jonathan Milan on the track bikes that were stolen.

 

The good news is that police recovered the bikes after they caught some criminals in the act of trying to sell  them.  Searches also turned up--surprise, surprise--other stolen goods, including eight televisions, ten mobile phones and drugs, in addition to 2800 Euros in cash.  

On Monday, team mechanics travelled to Romania to pick up the bikes and bring them back in Italy. 

Pedal Power Loses Its Fleet

 Whatever you believe, or don't believe in, you probably agree that it's not OK to take other people's stuff without their permission.

Taking someone's bike is, therefore, a pretty low deed, as its owner almost always loves and/or depends on it.  For some, it might be the difference between having a relatively healthy childhood and becoming another statistic.

Susan Tuck and Mark Trumper understood as much.  That is what led them to start Pedal Power eight years ago in Minneapolis. Part of the mission in starting Pedal Power, according to Trumper, is to "bring the outdoors to children of color." As the organization's "About" page tells us, Tuck and Trumper were motivated by the "abrupt realization that a whole lotta kids never learn to ride a bike." I agree with their assessment:  "that's a problem--one that's worth tackling." 

As teachers, their motto could hardly be more fitting:  "Learn to bike.  Bike to learn." The thing is, to do either, you need a bike--and to know how to ride it.  So, with the help of small grants and donations, they assembled a fleet for the kids at Pillsbury Elementary School, where Trumper and Tuck teach-- and half of the kids are African-American and more than a quarter are Hispanic and 84 percent receive free or discounted lunches.  And realizing that some of them had never been on a bike, they taught kids how to ride.

Knowing what Trumper's and Tuck's efforts, and the bikes themselves, mean to the kids, it's was especially galling to lose, not just one bike, but all 30 in the fleet, along with pumps, reflective vests and cable locks.  

They were stored in an unmarked trailer on school grounds. Late last Thursday night, someone called the police to report someone trying to break in.  When Trumper drove by the following morning, the trailer and its contents were gone.  

Trumper summed up his, Tuck's and the kids' mood: "We're devastated."  They do, however, hope to ride again. To that end, Pedal Power is accepting donations.

Losing Sleep In Seattle

Perhaps you've seen Sleepless In Seattle.

Well, over the weekend, something happened that's causing a few more people to lose sleep near Seattle.

In nearby Spanaway, a trailer was stolen from the Bethel Middle School.  That alone would upset some people.  But what makes this story even more troubling are the contents of that trailer:  20 shiny red bicycles.

I know:  They sound like some kids' dreams.  They probably are.  Those Specialized Roll Sport Low Entry bikes were used in Physical Education classes to teach kids how to ride safely.  I am guessing that some of those kids probably didn't have a bike of their own, or even access to one from a family member, friend or neighbor.  Even some of those who had bikes of their own, I'm sure, looked forward to the classes.

The kids aren't the only ones rattled by the theft.  Funding for the bikes, purchased from Old Town Bikes in Gig Harbor (each bike has a label from the shop),  came from the Cascade Bicycle Club and state grants.

The trailer, a 2016 Mirage Xcel with Washington State license plate number A8106C, was secured with hardened locks on its doors and a hitch lock, and was parked behind a locked gate.

The Pierce County Sheriff's Department  (253-798-4840) would like to hear from anyone with information about the whereabouts of the trailer or its contents.

I hope everything will be found and folks will be able to sleep easily in Seattle.