Detroit: The Next Portland--Or Amsterdam?

Henry Ford with his bicycle in the early 1890's. 

David Byrne has said that one of the most memorable bike rides he ever took was in Detroit.  He described the backdrop to his Motor City randonnee as a "postapocalyptic landscape at its finest" and rates that trip with his spin along the Bosprous and Sea of Mamara in Istanbul.

Somehow I'm not surprised that he was so taken with the devastation of Detroit.  He is, after all, David Byrne.  But, if you've been following this blog, you know that some of my favorite rides here in New York take me through industrial areas of the Bronx, Brooklyn and Long Island City, which are so free of traffic on weekends that they're weirdly bucolic.  I feel the same way about the Wall Street area; the only problem with it is that there isn't nearly as much of it as there are of those old industrial areas.

The thing about Detroit is that he's not the only one who thinks it's an excellent cycling city.  Many riders, who live within the city limits as well as in the suburbs, appreciate the fact that the city is flat, save for the area around Dorais Park. They also like the extensive networks of paths and greenways that line the Detroit River, which separates the city from Windsor, Ontario in Canada. ("Detroit" means "strait" in French.)  In fact, some people cross the border to ride in the home of the Big Three.  

Interestingly (and, I'm sure for the people involved, exasperatingly), there is no way to cycle between Detroit and Windsor.  In fact, the buses from Windsor will allow bicycles only if they're disassembled and in a box or bag.    Even then, the driver has the authority to deny access if he or she feels the bus is too crowded.  On the other hand, there is work on developing a water taxi between the two cities, and it's believed that bicycles will be allowed on them.

Another interesting aspect to Motor City Cycling is that it has a velodrome--in Dorais Park.  If you know about the city's history, it may not be such a surprise:  After all, it was a center for bicycle manufacturing and riding before the auto industry developed.  (In fact, Henry Ford and others associated with the auto industry began as bicycle makers and mechanics.) Even after Chevys and Fords started rolling off the assembly lines, Detroit kept the flame of bicycle racing alive during the Dark Ages (at least for American racing) that followed World War II.

But, in another layer of irony, the Dorais Park Velodrome doesn't go that far back.  In fact, construction on it began during the riots of 1967, and it opened on the day Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon in 1969.  It lay unused and all but abandoned until it was discovered by suburban cyclists who were using the hill for training.

I am not an urban planner or an expert on Detroit.  But I, like almost everyone else in the USA, have some ideas about what Detroit's future could be like.  Denizens of Pittsburgh realized that the steel industry would never be as significant as it was until the 1970's.  So, they took advantage of the fact that the city had some first-class academic institutions like the University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie-Mellon, and turned the erstwhile Steel City into a center for biomedical research and technology, much as Boston did earlier.  

Detroit doesn't have the sort of academic institutions that Boston and Pittsburgh have.  But what a lot of people don't realize is that not very far from Detroit are vast stretches of farms.  Michigan has always been a leading agricultural state; perhaps Detroit could become a center of agronomy and other "green"technology.

But even more important (for the purposes of this blog, anyway), the city might be able to take advantage of the shrinkage even its Mayor, David Bing, has advocated.  A more compact Detroit could be ideal for the development of a cycling infrastructure.  Perhaps, in a smaller city, the residential and business areas would be closer together, which would make bicycle commuting--and cycling in general--more feasible and enjoyable for more people.  

Who knows?  Perhaps Detroit could be the next Portland--or Amsterdam.

Jerry's Bike

I wasn't a devotee of the Seinfeld show.  Then again, I don't think I've ever been a devotee of any TV show in a very long time.


However, I will admit that I saw a few episodes of Seinfeld during its original run.  One thing I remember is that he always had a bicycle--which neither he nor anyone else seemed to ride--hanging in his apartment.


I was reminded of it when I saw this bike:

As I recall, the bike in Seinfeld's apartment was a Klein mountain bike--in a really scary fluorescent green that makes the bike in the photo seem restrained.  Actually, this bike is probably the most understated Klein mountain bike I've ever seen.


Although they weren't my cup of tea, some Klein road bikes, like this one,  weren't bad-looking:

In the mid-1970's, Klein was one of the first builders to make bicycle frames from oversized aluminum tubing.  Trek took them over around the time Seinfeld's show began its run.  It seems that Trek made Kleins until about five years ago.  Since then, I haven't seen any new Kleins--or, for whatever reasons, the shops I frequent aren't selling them.

Did You Catch That? Do You Wish You Hadn't?

When I was writing for a newspaper, we referred to some days as "slow news days."  That's when we'd publish stories about the spouse of someone who was elected president in some country none of our readers had ever heard of.  Or, for fun, we might put in a story about a duck crossing at the foot of a skyscraper.  You get the idea.

It was common knowledge that Wednesday was usually the slowest news day.

Now, what I write about in this blog isn't always news.  So what do I call a day like this.  "Slow blog day" doesn't sound quite right.

In any event, I'm going to take this post to present something that might make you chuckle or groan, or both, and is utterly inconsequential.  Here goes:  Along my ride to Point Lookout on Saturday, I came across a restaurant in Long Beach that has, possibly, the worst name in the world--in the English-speaking world,anyway:

Fear not:  There are better posts coming!

A Small But Guilty Pleasure

As I've mentioned in other posts, I don't mind riding in the rain, as long as it isn't cold.  What I like even more, though, is something I've described as "playing chicken with the rain."

So it probably wouldn't surprise you to hear that one of my "guilty pleasures" as a cyclist is starting a ride just as the rain ends and arriving at my destination, or simply ending my ride, just as the rain begins. 

That is exactly what I managed to do today.  Of course, only leaving just as the rain ended, albeit temporarily, was intentional on my part.  Arriving at work just as the rain started again was merely a consequence of crossed fingers (or, what we called "birth control" in my teen years.  Don't ask!)  

Anyway, it's always nice to start the work day feeling as if I'd won, or at least gotten away with something.  Tonight I'll see whether I can do the same going home.

Rainy Day Non-Riding Blues

You know it's May, and you know you're a cyclist, when it feels strange not to have ridden to work.


That is how I felt today.  When I went to out this morning, what fell wasn't just the mere pitter-patter of a morning shower or a tingly, misty drizzle.  Rather, the rain fell so heavily I could barely see out my window.


The weather alone might not have dissuaded me from riding to work.  However, I had two far-flung appointments more than ten miles from each other, and each was more than fifteen miles from work.  Perhaps cycling to them would have  been a character-building experience, had I been younger.  But I wasn't thinking much about building character today.


As I rode the train and bus, I felt a little guilty--and, paradoxically, cheated--over not riding today.  I guess I'm greedy:  We had gorgeous weather this weekend and, of course, I did two longish rides.  So I wanted to continue the "high" I got from those rides.  


I  got to work and found only two bikes parked in the racks. One looked as if it had been there long before today.  Its owner could at least have given it the treatment it deserves:

How Did They Arrive?

Whenever I ride to a seashore, I can't help but to imagine who might have landed there first.  I always think about, not only who they might have been, but how they got there.

I also can't help but to wonder what they found

and what they left behind.

Also, I want to know how they left.  If they were forced out, did they leave on their own vessels?

And: Will they return?

Flip-Flopping

During the halfway point of a ride on Arielle today, I got a glimpse of what Mercian meant wnen they called the finish on my bikes "flip-flop.:

Here's another shot of the bike becoming a chameleon:

I can't help but to think the sea and reeds had something to do with the light bringing out the green in the finish.

You Never Know What You'll Find Or When It Will Come In Handy

Today was beautiful.  But it was still hard to believe that summer is--officially, at any rate--just a month a way.  


It was pretty brisk when I started to ride down toward Coney Island.  But it warmed up fairly quickly as I pedaled through Long Island City and across the bridge into Brooklyn.  I could even feel the sun warming my face in the cool breeze as my wheels spun--without any effort on my part, it seemed--by the East River on the Kent Avenue bike lane.  


The air felt positively summery as I passed the Botanical Gardens and crossed Empire Boulevard--near the site of the former Ebbets Field--into Flatbush.  In fact, I was starting to wish I'd brought one of my water bottles with me.  Of course, riding through Brooklyn isn't the same as riding through the Mojave Desert: After all, there are plenty of delis and bodegas where one can get something to drink. 


Still, I kept on riding.   I felt as if I were actually going to ride straight into summer until I crossed under the Belt Parkway overpass.  As soon as I emerged from its shadow, the sun seemed even brighter.  But it also seemed about twenty degrees cooler--as if I'd pedaled from July back into April.  That's because I was by Sheepshead Bay.  The ocean lay not much more than a kilometer away.  


That's one of the differences between a spring and, say, a fall ride around here.  While the air temperature rose to about 75F (24C), the ocean temperature has yet to reach 60F (15C).   The differences between inland and shore temperatures were even more pronounced a few weeks ago, but they were still noticeable today.


As it happened, I'd left something in Arielle's bag that came in handy:

It's an old Sugoi jacket with a light lining:  One of the last pieces of cycling apparel I have from the days when I was the "before" photo, if you know what I mean!

Velouria Captures A Working Girl

About two weeks ago, "Velouria" of Lovely Bicycle! fame came to town for the New Amsterdam Bike Show.  She stayed at my (very) humble abode.  Between all of our commitments and appointments, she still managed to photograph me and my bikes.  And, oh, yeah, we got a ride in together.

One shot actually is a pretty fair representation of me going to work on a brisk day.  

I was thinking of that day's "shoot" as I pedaled to work today.  As it was a good bit warmer, I wasn't wearing that jacket.  Also, since I didn't have any meetings, I was dressed a little more casually:  a light blue cotton skirt, flats, a tank top and a three-quarter-sleeve cardigan.  But, yes, I was riding Vera, exactly as you see her in that photo.

You can find that photo, and others, on her Flickr stream. I'm thinking of using at least one or two of them in the banner of this blog.

The Ride Ends With A Light Show

I've long felt that one of the nicest ways to end a long bike ride is with a boat ride.  That's one of the reasons I pedal across the George Washington Bridge, and down the Jersey Palisades, Jersey City and Bayonne to Staten Island, where I hop on the ferry.



When I first started to ride, I was cursing myself for not getting on my bike until well into the afternoon.  But the weather had turned from briskly to pleasantly cool, and rays of sunshine were peeking through clouds that blanketed the sky but didn't really threaten rain.  The last few miles of my bike ride, and the one on the ferry, turned into a light show: