In the middle of the journey of my life, I am--as always--a woman on a bike. Although I do not know where this road will lead, the way is not lost, for I have arrived here. And I am on my bicycle, again.
I am Justine Valinotti.
Showing posts with label transportation cycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transportation cycling. Show all posts
Here in New York City, the prototypical commuter/errand/“beater” bike has flat handlebars, a single fixed cog or freewheel and tires somewhat wider and thicker than those found on road bikes. Frames are usually finished in plain colors or could be raw steel or aluminum. So far, those bikes sound like the love children of Minimalists and Brutalists. But those drab machines might have neon-colored V-shaped rims, as if to assert themselves against asphalt and concrete. Other cities’ signature bikes are variations on what I have described—or on Dutch-style city bikes.
In still other places—typically hillier—bikes with multi-gear hubs or derailleurs are more common. Such machines often are modified ‘90’s mountain bikes, which some argue is the best kind of utility bike.
That belief seems to be a guiding philosophy of Gnargo. Minneapolis natives Elysia and Zach Springer moved to Bentonville, Arkansas shortly before the pandemic. They were drawn by the city’s reputation as a mecca for mountain biking—they had been cycling advocates in their former hometown—and other outdoor activities. It also happens to be the headquarters of Wal-Mart which, Elysia jokes, “sponsored” their move with Zach’s new job in product development for the retail colossus.
They had two toddlers and wanted to integrate cycling into their lives away from the trails. To them, the ideal solution was a front-loading family cargo bike like they’d seen in Europe. They weren’t widely available at an affordable price in the ‘States, much less in Arkansas, so they decided to make one themselves.
The first design was “pretty bad,” Zach recalls. But after a few tries, they hit upon something that satisfied both of them. It began with an old steel mountain bike frame, which Zach modified and equipped with an electronic kit.
Needless to say, it got a lot of attention when they rode it around town. People asked where they could get a vehicle like it—which, of course, they couldn’t. So began the Springers’ enterprise.
It will be really interesting to see whether Gnargo’s front-loading cargo bikes become the signature mode of transportation for any community. Such a place would have a very different bicycle culture from New York or Portland!
When cities build bike lanes, they need to ask themselves what kind of cycling they are trying to promote. Answering that question should, at least in theory, help to determine what kind of lane will be built and where it will be placed.
It would seem that if a city really wants cycling to be á transportation option people would consider in lieu of driving or mass transportation—or in conjunction with the latter (e.g., riding a bike to a train station)—lanes that parallel main road would be the answer.
Then the question arises as to whether the bike lane can be physically separated from the roadway. On some streets, that may not be an option. Then one has to wonder whether a “bike lane” that is separated from traffic only by lines of paint would incentivize people to ride.
Also, bike infrastructure planning increasingly includes eBikes: Sales of them have quadrupled during the past five years. So…Should eBikes (and motorized scooters) share lanes with traditional human-powered bikes? Can a lane be so designed—or would eBikes and other motorized “micromobility” vehicles be prioritized as automobiles have been over pedestrians and cyclists for more than a century?
(Or would there be a situation like we have in New York, where prohibitions against motorized vehicles in bike lanes simply aren’t enforced?)
Photo by Scott G. Winterton for Deseret News
I got to thinking about these questions after coming across this article. Apparently, planners in South Jordan, Utah are grappling with them, and others, as they decide on what kinds of bike lanes, and where, to build. It will be interesting to see what they decide.
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know thar one of my pet peeves is “bike lanes to nowhere “: ribbons of dirt, concrete or asphalt that begin or end abruptly and do not connect common destinations in any meaningful way. They are a reason for motorists’ animosity towards cyclists; As long as bike paths are seen merely as “nice places to ride” rather than transportation conduits, drivers will see us as over-privileged pleasure- or thrill-seekers who are “taking “ their lanes and parking spaces.
So, I am glad to hear news that Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, secured a Federal grant to connect the Black Diamond and Gateway Trails, two bike lanes on opposite ends of Ithaca, an upstate New York town best known for its gorges and Cornell University.
A thing might be good. Another thing might also be good. Putting them together, though, is not always a good thing.
An example is chocolate chips in bagels. It seemed to be everywhere about twenty years ago. Thankfully, they seem to have disappeared, at least in this part of the world. Unfortunately, ridiculous pizza toppings like peanut butter, bologna, honey, barbecued chicken, pineapple and--yikes!--chocolate chips have not. Now, I love fresh pineapple and barbecued chicken as much as anybody does, but they don't belong on pizza. Roast chicken is OK, but I guess I'm an old-school New York pizza purist: I prefer to eat my pizza uncluttered.
(I will admit, though, that in Toulouse, France, I enjoyed a pizza made with locally-produced goat cheese and ham. It is, to this day, the best pizza I've eaten outside of Italy or New York.)
So, when I heard the term "bicycle garden," I was skeptical. Bicycles are wonderful. (Why else do I write the blog?) So are gardens. The only way, however, I've ever conncected the two was to ride one to the other.
Of course, "garden" in this context doesn't mean a park full of flowers and trees where people picnic or a plot for growing corn and tomatoes. Rather, it refers to any sort of place where someone or something is grown or developed: Think of the "garten" in "kindergarten."
The "garden" proposed in Antioch, a San Francisco Bay-area community, would look something like this:
or this:
The city council voted in favor of building it in Prewett Family Park. If that location doesn't work out, they also voted in favor Gerrytown Park as an alternative. Prewett, however, is favored for its proximity to schools: the "garden" will be a place where young people will develop bike-riding skills and learn the rules of the road.
The idea sounds like a good one, as long as kids are being trained for "real world" riding, i.e., on streets and roads, and not just on bike lanes that go from nowhere to nowhere and may not be any safer than the streets.
A few years ago, I spent an extremely pleasant long weekend in Montréal . What's not to like about a beautiful, diverse city with good food and art where French is spoken?
What made all of that even better? Cycling. La ville aux cent clochers is, simply, one of the best cities for cycling I've encountered. The bike lanes aren't just lines of paint in a street: They're physically separated from the rest of the traffic (although a couple I rode seemed a bit narrow for two-way bicycle traffic) and there seems to be more respect, or at least a better detente , between cyclists and drivers than I've seen in any US locale.
Moreover, the lanes I encountered weren't just paths that suddenly began in one place and just as suddenly ended somewhere else, far from any place else. (Perhaps if I'd spent more time in the city, I might have found such useless paths.) Instead, there are at least a couple of lanes on which you can cross the city, and other lanes are actually useful in getting to and from anywhere you might be or want or need to go. You can even ride a lane to the Jacques Cartier Bridge or other crossings to or from the city, which is on an island.
What I didn't realize was that much of that pleasant, stress-free riding was a result, directly or indirectly, of "Bicycle Bob" Silverman.
In 1975, he co-founded Le Monde à Bicyclette, or Citizens on Bicycles. His choice of the French name was important because he knew that if he were to realize his dream of starting a "velorution " to break the "auto-cracy," he would need to reach beyond his mainly-anglophone circle. Also, he said, the main cycling organization in his province--la Fédération quebecoise de cylotourisme , now known as Vélo-Québec, was focused mainly on recreational cycling.
In the previous paragraph, you might've noticed that Silverman had a penchant for appropriating the rhetoric of political upheval. That was no accident: He identified as a Trotskyite and, in his twenties, lived in Cuba, where he met Che Guevara, before he was deported for distributing anti-Soviet literature. After that, he lived and worked on an Israeli kibutz before "bouncing around Europe" and falling in love with cycling while riding in France (of course!).
His vocabulary also reflected his flair for the dramatic. Le Monde à Bicyclette staged "die-ins" to protest cyclist deaths--which have since decreased significantly--in the city and province. Silverman and his organization argued that the reason was not, as some claimed, that cyclists were careless or they shouldn't have been cycling in the city in the first place. Rather, he argued that there were too many cars and that their number wouldn't stop growing as long as the city's and province's infrastructure is built around moving them rather than on human interactions and sustainable transportation--and that the bicycle is as viable a mode of transport as any other.
He also led other kinds of demonstrations, like the time he dressed up as Moses* and pretended to part the waters of the St. Lawrence River to lead cyclists across. (Hmm...Maybe this is why he was called a "prophet" of the bicycle-friendly, sustainable city.) Another time, he rolled out a carpet on Boulevard Maisonneuve to press for the group's demand for an east-west cycle route (which now exists) across the city. In yet another action--which got Silverman three days in prison--he and a group of fellow cyclists painted clandestine cycle lanes in the dark of night.
Save for his time in Cuba, Israel and Europe, and the past few years in the Laurentians, Bob Silverman was a lifelong Montreal resident born and raised in the city. His work was therefore not only abstract ideas about sustainability (before that became a widely-used term) or even cycling itself; it was his way of trying to achieve the kind of city he wanted. That, according to Michael Fish, the architect who founded Save Montréal at around the same time Silverman and his friends started Le Monde à Bicyclette. "Nothing since the multiple achievements of Robert Silverman for the rights of cyclists has so affected positively the environment of the region, at almost no public cost," he explained.
He and others want to memorialize Robert Silverman, who passed away at age 87 on Sunday.
Whatever the city does, the next time you ride there (or if you ever get to ride there), thank him.
*—I tried to find a photo of “Bicycle Bob” in Old Testament prophet mode. To this day, my mental image of Moses is Charlton Heston: a result, most likely, of seeing “The Ten Commandments “ every year, on the night before Easter, during my childhood.
I’ve ridden Citibikes a few times, always for the same reasons: I could ride there, but not back (like the time I pedaled to a procedure that involved anaesthesia) or I went to pick up one of my own bikes.
Photo by Christopher Lee for the New York Times
On the whole, it’s a good system, given its inherent limitations. The main non-inherent limitation is that it still isn’t available to about half of this city’s residents: Nearly all of the bikes and docks are in Manhattan or nearby neighborhoods (like mine) in western Queens and northern Brooklyn.
Of the inherent limitations, perhaps the most significant is the mismatch between the availability of bikes and ports at any given moment. As an example, on one of my trips, I had to go to three different docking station before I found an empty port where I could leave the bike. That left me about half a kilometer from my destination. The nearest docking station was only a block from where I needed to go.
Sometimes people encounter the opposite problem: no bikes at the docking station. This typically happens at times and in areas where many people are leaving, or leaving for, their jobs or schools.
As much as I liked Curtis Sliwa’s position on animal rights, I voted for Eric Adams to become our next mayor because of just about everything else—including his mention of expanding Citibike to areas not yet served by it—and, too often, un- and under-served in so many other ways.
The next time you don't feel like pedaling to work or school because you're tired, have a headache or worried about the weather, think about Julie Anne Genter.
She's a member of New Zealand's Green Party and Parliament--and perhaps not surprisingly, a cycling advocate. On Sunday, she did something she'd planned on doing: She gave birth to her second child after arriving at the hospital by bicycle.
The way she got there, however, wasn't quite as she'd anticipated. Her original plan was for her partner, Peter Nunn, to pedal a cargo bike with her in the front. But when her contractions started, she realized that she and her hospital bag would add up too much weight. So she "just got out and rode," she explained.
Fortunately for her, the ride to the hospital took only ten minutes. Her daughter, whom she described as "happy and healthy," was born at 3:04 am local time.
The daughter is her second child. She also pedaled to the hospital for the birth of her first child, which resulted from induced labor. That same year, New Zealand's Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern, gave birth while in office and brought her three-month-old baby to the United Nations assembly hall.
So, if you're trying to decide whether to ride to work, remember that Julie Anne Genter "wasn't planning to cycle in labor," but did.
A few days ago, Mark Wagenbuur re-posted an early post on his excellent blog, Bicycle Dutch. In it, he outlines the developments that led to the Netherlands' much-lauded bicycle infrastructure and culture.
Utrecht city center in 1929...
Perhaps most important, he shows that his country wasn't always the cyclists' paradise one encounters today. Before World War II, bicycles were the main mode of transportation for many Dutch people. Photos show streets relatively free of cars and cyclists riding among, but not competing with, trams. After World War II, however, increasing affluence led people to foresake two wheels for four. Another photo from 1968 shows a street as clogged with motor traffic as any in an American city (though, it's hard not to notice, the vehicles are smaller). It was during the 1970s, he says, that the movements that led to today's system of bike lanes and other facilities began.
..
...and in 1968
Activists and planners of that time also advocated for changes in city planning to encourage motor-free transportation and recreation. He shows motor vehicle-free central business districts, some in centuries-old areas of cities. As he points out--in contrast to the arguments of their American counterparts--business owners report increased business because a cyclist or pedestrian is more likely to stop by whereas a driver might pass by if they can't find a parking space.
But his post also points to another parallel with the US that might help to explain why such developments are slower in coming to America. For one, he mentions that in recent years, the amount of cycling in the Netherlands has stabilized--which isn't surprising when you realize that bicycles have outnumbered people for some time. (They do in my apartment, too!) Those statistics, though, have layers, and if you peel off one of them, you find that cycling has increased in urban areas but decreased in the countryside has decreased. I don't know what the numbers are for the US, but I suspect that there is a similar situation at work--or that, at any rate, most of the increase in American cycling has come in or near urban areas.
For another, he talks about the resistance to making city centers more auto-friendly. (One of the images is a rendition of a proposed highway that looks alarmingly like the ones in areas like Southern California and other auto-centric areas. Thankfully, it was never built.) While cycling declined for a couple of decades after World War II, remaining cyclists fought to make their country safer for riding. Also, making some city centers more auto-friendly meant, not only removing bike lanes or streets that were safe for cycling, but also some beloved buildings, some of them centuries old. When some of those structures were lost, people thought that perhaps the price of "progress" wasn't worth it.
While there is some interest in preserving historic structures in some American cities, on the whole the environment in the US is more amenable to large-scale development. Some of that has to do with citizens who still see building bigger buildings as "progress," but I suspect that it has at least as much to do with the fact that mega-developers have more influence on politics and the media, at the local as well as the national level, in the US.
Also, business and commercial districts in some American cities, especially the newer ones in the South and West, are auto-centric by design. In contrast, the older Dutch (and other European) city centers, with their narrower streets and smaller plazas, were created long before automobiles came along. So, I would suspect, making them more bicycle- and pedestrian-friendly would mean, at least to some degree, returning them to their original state. Or, at least, making them bicycle- and pedestrian- friendly doesn't require as much of a radical redesign as would be required in most American cities.
Finally, there is the matter of geography. The Netherlands is a much smaller country, and places are closer together. So people need less convincing to see that bicycling is a practical way to get to where they need to go--and that riding is simply fun. If someone lives 100 kilometers away from work, as many Americans do, no bike lane is going to convince them not to drive. At best, such a commuter might be enticed to ride his or her bike to a train or bus station--if indeed there are safe and secure parking facilities at the station. Or if there is a train or bus line at all. That is another area in which Dutch and other European people are better-served than Americans.
So, Mark Wagenbuur has done a service by showing that his country wasn't always the cycling Nirvana we see today. More important, he shows that it was once before a country of cyclists, but planners and ordinary citizens learned from their mistakes in emulating American transportation and city planning. Perhaps we can learn from our own mistakes and, although we can't go about it in the same way as the Dutch (or Danes or other Europeans), we can make this country more amenable for cyclists and pedestrians. It's one of the steps we need to take in order to keep from cooking ourselves (and most other life) on this planet!
As I said on Saturday, and in earlier posts, if any municipality is serious about getting people to ride bikes rather than drive to work or school, or for fun, building bike lanes is just one step.
And it’s a legitimate step if and only if (See what I learned in my formal logic class?) those lanes are well-designed, -constructed and -maintained—and practical.
On that last condition: Building bike lanes that begin and end in seemingly-arbitrary locations, without any markers or any other indicators, serves no one. People will give up four wheels for two if, among other things, bike lanes actually connect places people ride to and from, safely. Of course, I don’t mean that people should have lanes directly from their front doors to their desks or work stations. But bike and pedestrian paths should make it possible to go from, say, a central point in a residential neighborhood to a business or cultural district in the way of good mass transit systems—like, say, the one in Paris.
Photo by Ludivic Marin, for Agence France Presse
Apparently, the City of Light’s Mayor, Anne Hidalgo, has such a vision. She won a second term last June on a platform that included making Paris a city “tout á velo”—totally cycleable—by 2026. To that end, the French capital is investing 250 million Euros to improve its cycling infrastructure.
Among other things, 52 km (about 32 miles) of “coronapistes”—temporary lanes created during the pandemic—will be upgraded and made permanent. To that, another 130 km will be added to the existing 100 km. These additions and upgrades will make it possible to cycle from one end to another, and to and from key locations, within the city as well as in the adjacent suburbs.Even more important, those lanes will be planned to make it safer for cyclists to cross intersections, thus addressing another concern of people who say they’d consider cycle commuting but worry about safety.
Hidalgo’s plan will also address another concern—bike theft—by adding 100,000 new secure parking spaces, including 1000 for cargo bikes.
Imagine free tickets to a Beyoncé concert--on a first-come-first-serve basis.
Imagine that only six are available.
Yesterday, New York's Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) made an announcement akin to what I've described.
But, instead of concert tickets, what the MTA is about to offer are secure bicycle parking spaces at Grand Central Station.
Those spots will become available next month, after a locker is installed in the terminal's "taxiway" that closed twenty years ago. The locker will be operated by a company called Oonee and accessible a smartphone app or key card.
Rendering of bike parking locker at Grand Central Station, courtesy of Oonee
This offering will be a year-long pilot which, hopefully, will lead to more safe bicycle parking in this city's transportation terminals.
When asked what he thought about a country without a flag, Mort Sahl* said, "Well, it's a start." That's my response, for now, to the MTA's announcement.
*--More recently, he reported that Donald Trump was "hospitalized for an attack of modesty."
I've been paid to ride my bike, though not in a way I envisioned in my hopes or dreams.
Like other young riders of my generation, I had images of myself riding with the pros--in Europe, of course, because that's where most of the pros were. Specifically, I saw myself pedaling with the peloton past sunflower fields, vineyards and castles, through river valleys and up mountains in France, Belgium, Italy and other hotbeds of cycling. It was near the end of Eddy Mercx's reign, and before the dawning of Bernard Hinault's. There were some great riders, but none had dominated the field the way Eddy and Bernard did. So I thought I had a chance to, not only become the next champion, but to become a standard-bearer for my country.
Well, obviously, that dream didn't pan out. My amateur racing career didn't last long: I did muster one third-place finish. But I discovered that riding as a job isn't nearly as much fun as riding because you want to.
What led to the discovery of the latter was being a messenger in New York City. For a while I actually enjoyed it, or at least I was OK with it because, really, during that time in my life, I couldn't have done anything else. And I was getting paid to ride my bike!
That last aspect of the trade, if you will, lost its appeal to me after I slogged through slush a few times--and when I admitted to myself that I was doing it because I couldn't--actually, wouldn't--deal with a few things I wouldn't until much later. And I wasn't riding much when I wasn't on the job.
Still, though, the idea of getting paid to ride a bike always appealed to me. (If I were President, I would...) So imagine my delight upon learning that in a major American city, people will have that privilege--at least for this month.
Bike Streets, a Denver nonprofit, has launched an all-volunteer project focused on getting residents of the Mile High City to change how they travel around their city. Folks who sign up will have their mileage logged by Strava; depending on how many sign up, riders will earn 15 to 30 cents a mile, for a maximum of $75 a month.
Oh, and riders can pedal wherever they want: to school, work, the store or a park, along a trail or a street. Bike Streets founder Avi Stopper hopes that the reward will entice people to "discover riding a bike, not just for fitness, but to get to every destination they need to go in Denver, is really a viable thing and a fun thing to do as well."
That sounds like a fine reward to me--though I wouldn't turn down the money, either.
By the way, in 2018 Bike Streets created the Low-Stress Denver Bike Map, which has been used about 425,000 times. They're accepting donations to help pay for this month's project, as well as ongoing work like the map.
Although bicycle commuting and transportation is on the rise here in the USA, the bicycle is still commonly associated with pleasure, fitness, recreation and sport. That, I believe, is why cyclists incur resentment and antagonism from drivers: Most Americans drive because their communities and lifestyles all but require it. Even in my hometown of New York City, there are “transportation deserts,” defined as places more than a 15-minute walk from a subway or bus station. Truth be told, many of us who ride to work, school or wherever have other options.
In other parts of the world, the situation is different: People pedal because they don’t have other options. In fact, many associate bicycles with poverty and hard times. Irina Echarry describes this in her article published in today’s Havana Times.
She also draws a very interesting connection: whenever the economy takes a turn for the worse in Cuba, “two things flourish: fields and bikes.” People “turn to planting their own crops so they don’t die of hunger,” she explains, and “turn to bikes so they can keep moving.”
When she draws that comparison between planting a vegetable garden and riding a bike, she is saying that both are means to self-sufficiency, and even survival.
Over the past couple of decades, the Dutch and Danes have gotten things mostly right when it comes to everyday cycling. Note that I said "mostly": As I noted a few days ago, the author of "Bicycle Dutch" encountered a newly-constructed bicycle viaduct that, as it turns out, isn't very practical--and, possibly, not very safe--for cyclists.
Still, the Netherlands, like Denmark, does better than most countries in making the bicycle a practical transportation alternative. So does France. While the French aren't yet on par with their northern neighbors, cycling infrastructure and regulations are much better thought-out than what we have in the US or other countries.
And French planners are dealing with a reality that I, in my youthful arrogance, would not acknowledge until recently: Not everyone will forsake four wheels for two, or one pedal for two--or, more important, petrol for muscle.
Some, of course, just don't want to exert themselves physically. But others, particularly those who are elderly or have disabilites (or whose bodies are giving out on them for other reasons), can't. So how do you get them to give up their cars--which tend to be older and less fuel-efficient because, well, such people also tend to be poorer than those who can afford a Prius or Tesla.
Acting on that realization, l'Assemblee Nationale--France's equivalent to the US House of Representatives or the UK's House of Commons--has just approved a measure that would give people the chance to hand over their old, exhaust-belching voitures for scrap. In return, they'd receive a 2500 Euro (2975 USD at current exchange rates) grant to buy an electric bicycle.
The measure is an amendment to a climate bill passing through Parliament that aims to reduce greenhouse gas emissions in by 40 percent from 1990 levels in 2030. If the measure is adopted, France would become the first country in the world to offer people the chance to trade in their old cars for electric bicycles. Perhaps most important of all, it is a recognition that "the solution is not to make cars greener, but simply to reduce their number," according to Olivier Schneider of the Federation Francaise des Usagers de la Bicyclette (FUB), an organization dedicated to everyday cycling.
Various healthcare and health insurance plans are realizing that encouraging healthy practices and lifestyles are cheaper, in the long run, than paying for expensive medicines and procedures. They offer things like smoking cessation programs and discounts on gym memberships.
I've heard that a few plans, offered by employers, also give discounts for bike commuting-related expenses. So, for example, they won't pay for a $12,000 S-Works racing bike, but they offer vouchers or discounts at participating bike shops.
Now, as a cyclist who writes a bicycle blog, I may just a wee bit biased in saying that if insurance programs will subsidize gym memberships or exercise equipment, they also should do whatever will encourage bicycle commuting and recreational riding. After all, more than a few people have lost weight and seen their blood pressure and anxiety levels drop after they rode their bikes to work or school for a few months, or even weeks.
I also believe that encouraging kids to ride bikes to school is a good idea. I'm thinking, specifically, of kids who live just far enough away from school to make walking a non-viable option, but not so far that they need to take a bus or be driven.
Matt Milam, the Executive Director of United Healthcare of Nebraska seems to understand as much. He has announced that his organization is giving away bicycle helmets and cash prizes to kids in two of the state's school districts. One reason for doing this, he says, is "encouraging healthy activity." He observes, "active kids grow up to be healthy kids."
I think it's a good start. Of course, other measures are needed to encourage, not just the kids, but the parents. And I think that the biggest hurdle to developing lifelong transportation and recreation cyclists is to keep kids on bikes when they start driving.
Queen Elizabeth II (How often have I referred to her in this blog?) referred to 1992 as an annis horribilis. Her Majesty likes to project an image of someone not given to hyperbole, so perhaps she was just trying to show her former tutors that she still remembered some of the Latin they taught her.
Now, to be fair, I would think it was a pretty bad year if a fire destroyed part of my house. And I wouldn't look back too fondly on a year in which one of my relatives, however distant, committed suicide. But the other "tragedies," which include divorces, infidelities and the like were merely instances of Royal Family members showing that, well, maybe they're not so different from the rest of us.
In comparison, many people--and large parts of the world--suffered real tragedies, mainly as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, but also because of natural disasters and other disruptions to what was considered "normal."
One can hope that the coming year will be better. For one thing, Donald Trump lost his bid for a second presidential term. For another, vaccines against COVID-19 are making their way into the world.
What really gives me hope, however, is the knowledge that tragedies and disasters are opportunities to learn, and there are always resilient people. (Meeting Cambodians who survived the Pol Pot regime and Greeks who have come through wars, invasions and economic crises taught me much about both.) One example of resilience includes the people who got on their bikes during the pandemic, when mass transit systems shut down or cut back their services and other forms of recreation weren't available. I hope that the new "bike boom" shows planners, policy-makers as well as ordinary citizens that the future need not (actually, can't) be as auto- and fossil fuel-centric as the past century or so have been.
If nothing else, I hope this year helps us to learn that we must--and, I believe, can and will--learn and change.
Early in the history (all 10 years) of this blog, I wrote about the ways some people reacted to me, a woman on a bicyce. It was particularly interesting to me because I started this blog a little less than a year after I had my gender reassignment surgery and was, at the time, was taking my first rides as a post-transition after nearly four decades of cycling as male.
The reactions ranged from encouragement to hostility and rage; a few folks--Hispanic men, mainly--admonished me to "be careful."
In the neighborhoods where I encountered such men--in the Bronx, eastern Brooklyn and Queens neighborhoods like Corona (a less-than-ten-minute ride from my apartment), I was also the only female cyclist in sight. On the other hand, in communities like Brooklyn's Park Slope, Manhattan's Upper West Side and my own neighborhood of Astoria, I encountered other women on bikes. Some were riding to stores, classes, jobs or yoga classes; others were riding for its own sake. But even in those neighborhoods, we were distinctly in the minority.
The pandemic is changing that picture, however slowly. Even the Times is taking note, but what I've heard from Transportation Alternatives and WE Bike--two organizations of which I'm a member--corroborates my observation.
According to the Times, the new COVID-inspired "Bike Boom" has been fueled largely by female cyclists, not only in New York, but in other cities. The author of the article, however, asks two of the questions that have been on my mind: Will the "boom" continue once things return to "normal?" And will women continue to ride.
As the article points out, a lot of people started cycling, not only because they didn't feel safe in taking subways and buses, but also because the lockdown-induced decrease in automobile traffic made people feel safer in riding a bike. But now that some people are returning to their offices and other workplaces, their distrust of mass transit is also causing them to drive more---or even to buy cars for the first time.
I have noticed the increase in traffic--and agression of drivers. It's fair to wonder whether new cyclists, female or otherwise, will continue to ride if traffic continues to increase in volume and hostility--especially if this city (and other US communities) continue to build a disjointed system of poorly-conceived and -constructed bike lanes and other bike infrastructure.
Most hardcore cyclists I've encountered sneer at electric bicycles, a.k.a. "e-bikes". I admit that I did, too, when I first saw them. Now, even though I'm not inclined to get one for myself, I more or less accept the fact that people ride them. As long as their riders don't do anything stupid or careless around me, I don't worry. I also must say that I've ridden with a trailer only a couple of times in my life. As long as I am living in a New York City apartment, I probably never will own one. I might, however, consider buying one if I ever move to a place where everything I need isn't within a few minutes' bike ride and there is little or no public transportation. If I were going to live car-free (or keep my driving to a minimum) in such an environment, I might need a trailer of some sort. I'd like to think that I still wouldn't succumb and buy an "e-bike". However, an electric trailer might be a good idea for really heavy loads. In particular, one that exists only as a prototype, at least for now, looks interesting.
The "intelligent bicycle trailer" , created by Hamburg-based startup Nuwiel, attaches to a bicycle in much the same way as a kiddie trailer. So, it would be relatively easy to remove or install. What makes it "intelligent"? Well, it has sensors in the attachment bar that measure the movement of the bike. (By movement, I wonder whether they mean simply speed or the way the bike is traveling, e.g., into the wind.) That information is transmitted to the trailer, which adds force as needed, up to a top speed of 25KPH (15.5 MPH). A regenerative braking feature allows the trailer to slow the bike while partially recharging the batteries, which are said to have an average range of 50KM (31miles) per charge. Nuwiel also says that when the trailer is not attached to the bike, it can be used as a motorized hand cart. This could be useful for errands done on foot--say, to a store around the corner from where you live. The trailer, according to the company, will be available to courier and transport companies this Fall, and to consumers by 2019. No price has been set. Nuwiel seems to be pitching as a "last mile" delivery option and a carbon emission-free form of transport. If nothing else, I am curious to see, and possibly try out the Nuwiel trailer.
Bike-share programs, as we know them, have been around for a decade. That seems to be enough time to notice some patterns in, and draw conclusions about, them.
A Rice University study has done just that, at least in regards to the share programs in four US cities. It notes two very interesting trends.
From Wikipedia Commons
The first is that in Sun Belt cities, bike share programs are increasingly used for recreational cycling. That makes sense, given the longer cycling seasons in such places. Also, it makes sense when you realize that many retirees live in and around those cities, and that in some, "snowbirds" spend at least part of the year. Moreover, some residents of colder climes take vacations in those places, and their cycling is, almost by definition, recreational.
The study notes another trend that I have witnessed here in New York: More and more share bikes are used for transportation. If someone is living, say, on the Upper West or East Sides and working in Midtown or the Financial District, riding a bike to work is almost as fast, even for a slow cyclist, as taking the subway. Also, since many office buildings and some residential buildings have Citibike ports in front of, or within 50 meters, of them, it can be more convenient than having to walk several blocks to or from a subway station.
If a commuter is fortunate enough to have a Citibike port near his or her residence or workplace, there is another convenience: The bike can simply be taken from, or wheeled into, the port. The cyclist does not have to look for a free parking meter, telephone pole or other spot where he or she can lock up a bike in relative safety.
The study also makes another interesting observation about transportation uses of bike share programs: Workers use them to run lunchtime errands or simply to get lunch if they don't want to use their cars or mass transit but the distance is too great to walk. This could be a very important fact to consider when starting new bike-share programs or expanding those that already exist in lower-density cities like Houston and Denver, which are more highway-oriented and car-centric than cities like New York, Boston and San Francisco.
Even though a city might be lower in population density, it can still experience problems with traffic congestion--and, in the case of Denver or Los Angeles, air pollution. The Rice study seems to show that expanding bike share programs in those cities, and starting new ones in other cities like them, can help to unsnarl traffic tie-ups and improve air quality--which, of course, can only improve overall public health and safety.
Every once in a while, I see someone "walking" his or her dog while riding a bicycle. I have probably seen it most often on or around beaches, especially in Florida. However, I've also seen it in parks and even on streets here in NYC.
Sometimes I wish I could do the same with Max and Marlee. I could carry them in the baskets on my LeTour, I guess. The only problem is that I don't know how I would get Max into a basket, as he doesn't like to be picked up and is no longer the climber he was in his youth, and that Marlee would never sit in a basket long enough for me to start riding.
I once rode about two kilometers carrying a little Yorkie in my cocked left arm and my right hand on my handlebar. I'd found her wandering through a busy intersection where she was in imminent danger of becoming roadkill. No one seemed to know where she came from and I rode, hoping to find a shelter or a vet's office. Finding neither, I took her to a precinct house, where a burly sergeant fell in love with her.
Max would never stand--or, more precisely, sit or curl up--for such a ride. Marlee might, for a couple of minutes. Then her nervousness would get the best of her and she'd wriggle her way into a fall onto the pavement.
I find it ironic that in other parts of the world, people on bikes carry all kinds of other animals. I saw a man ride with a monkey on his shoulder in Marseille, France and another man with a lizard standing guard on his sternum as he navigated the alleyways of Rome.
But they had nothing on this guy, with a goat along for the ride, in Uganda. I just hope the passenger gave him a hefty tip:
When people on opposing sides of the same issue are using "stupid" as a prefix for the same word, the thing they're talking about can't be good. Right?
I'm thinking now of bike lanes. Both cyclists and the people who hate us, or merely find us a nuisance, use that same adjective in reference to the lanes.
I was reminded of this when I stumbled over a site called "Stupid Bike Lanes" and read articles like this, and the comments on them.
Of course, the velophobes--who include all sorts of (but not all) people whose way of life or business is auto-based--think we're getting in their way of getting to wherever they have to go and believe we're getting "special privileges."
As any number of other bloggers (including yours truly) and commentators have pointed out, the antipathy toward cyclists, particularly in urban areas, is often generational and based on socio-economic or ethnic issues. Here in New York, non-cyclists hold contradictory views of cyclists: the messenger, the hipster, the Whole Foods customer and the simply rich. What reinforces these stereotypes is that those who most vociferously oppose the bike lanes tend to come from what remains of the blue-collar class and groups like the Hasidic and Orthodox Jews who have large families that they transport in vans. So, they are always driving, it seems, from one available parking spot to the next and, as they see it, the bike lanes take away those spots.
The bike lane-haters who are actual cyclists don't dispute those objections, and in fact cite one basic flaw of most urban bike lanes: They run alongside parking lanes and, therefore, directly in the path of opening drivers' side doors. I've been "doored" a few times: on all except one of those occasions, I was riding in a bike lane.
Some bike lanes are badly designed in other ways. The most obvious flaw, aside from the one I just mentioned, is that many of them go nowhere, end abruptly or in the middle of busy intersections, or are so poorly marked so that only those who already know where they are can find them.
All of the problems I've mentioned actually make cycling less safe than it is in the traffic lanes of most streets. And they indicate that those who design them know as little about cycling as transportation, in an urban area, as those who hate cyclists.