Purple Ride

All you have to do is look at Arielle, Tosca and Helene--my three custom Mercians--to know what my favorite color is.

And, although I am more of a Purple Haze fan, I certainly loved Purple Rain--and the artist who made it his signature song.

I am talking about His Royal Badness, or The Artist Formerly Known As The Artist Formerly Known As Prince.  It's hard to believe that in not much more than two weeks, a year will have gone by since he left us.

Not surprisingly, there have been some lavish tributes.  But perhaps none is as unique or interesting as the one Erik Noren has just made for Anna Schwinn.

Anna Schwinn with her Prince tribute bike.

Yes, she is one of those Schwinns.  She had contacted Noren of Peacock Groove Bicycles about getting a custom bike built for her.  Then, after Prince's death, she decided to make it a tribute.

Erik Noren of Peacock Groove Bicycles

Although Noren has built tribute bikes and other machines in unconventional configurations, he says he was intimidated at first.  "How do you take his spirit, his music and what he did, and put that into a bike?," he wondered.

The first thing he thought about, he said, was style.  Prince "was never gaudy," Noren explained.  "He was always classic and classy."  After he constructed a color scheme and theme, word got out about his project.  Soon he received messages from vendors and even associates of Prince himself, offering to donate items and materials to be used in the commemorative cycle.

Noren is justified in believing that what he turned out befits its namesake. Last month, it won awards for the Best Theme and Best Bike In Show at the North American Handmade Bicycle Show.  While he is happy about the awards, he believes the greatest validation came from an audience of one:  Ms. Schwinn herself.

She took the bike out for a ride around Lake Minnetonka--only a few pedal strokes, if you will, from Prince's home--and dipped the wheels in the water.  Noren is glad she did that:  As visually striking as the bike is, he believes that it, like any other bike, "needs to be ridden."  The scratches and dings a bike picks up are "like scars on people:  they tell a story."  He is "excited that she's out making new stories on that bike."

I think the Purple One himself would approve.

A New Day, A New Wrap

Yesterday I managed to get in a nice ride along the coasts, from my place to the Rockways and Coney Island, along the Verrazano Narrows and up to Hipster Hook back to my place.

The morning was overcast but the afternoon turned bright and clear, if windy.  So I wasn't surprised to see strollers, dog-walkers and, yes, cyclists along the boardwalks and on the promenade under the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge.

Vera, my green Miss Mercian mixte, went for the ride, in part because I wanted to ride a bike with fenders:  There is still a lot of crud and "ponds" in the streets, courtesy of last week's snow and the rain we have had during much of the time since that storm.   If you have seen Vera in previous posts, you might see another reason why I wanted to take her out today:

Yes, I swapped the handlebars from Velo Orange Porteurs (which are on another of my bikes) for Nitto "Noodle bar".  The latter is my first choice for drop bars.  I wanted to try Vera with drops because she had them when I first acquired her.  Although I have liked her ride with the Porteurs, I have always had a feeling that she was designed for drop bars.

Also, I wanted to try some new handlebar tape:

I used two rolls of Newbaum's tape:  one in burnt orange, the other in khaki.  I chose Newbaum's tape for the colors and because I am curious as to how it might be different from other brands of cloth tape I've used.

I wrapped the bars in khaki, leaving gaps wide enough to be over-wrapped with the burnt orange.  Then, I finished the ends with regular jute twine I found in a Dollar Tree store.

  


After wrapping the bars, I gave them four light coats of clear shellac.  Although this wrap doesn't have the "sheen" I've seen on some other shellacked bars, I like the look:  The clear shellac darkened the colors slightly.  Also, even though it has a "harder" feel than un-shellacked (Is that a word?) tape, the tape retained much of its texture, which makes for a nice grip.  I think the "feel" may have to do with the fact that the Newbaum's tape is a bit thicker than other brands (Velox, Tressostar, Cateye) I've used. 

It will take a few rides, I think, to decide whether I like this kind of handlebar wrap.  I used to like regular, un-shellacked cloth, but it seemed that I had to replace it every season.  Then again, I could say the same for Cinelli (or any other brand of) cork wrap. 

The burnt orange, while not an exact match, is surprisingly close to the color of the Ruth Works rando bag on the front.  The bag has, of course, developed a bit of patina.  I imagine that if I keep on riding with this new tape, it will develop a similar "character" and perhaps be even more similar to the color of the bag.

The Price Of Riding Off Into The Sunset

Although I haven't dated anyone in a few years, I have been in more intimate relationships than the Roman Catholic Church (in which I was raised) says a person should have in his or her life.

Of those affairs and partnerships (which include one brief marriage), in only one was I able to share my passion for cycling.  

It was the relationship that ended with my gender transition.  Ironically, she and I had a Domestic Partnership Agreement which, in those days before legal same-sex marriage, was the tightest knot two people of the same gender could tie.  I used to joke that, as a male, I was living the dream of every lesbian of the time:  I shared a nice apartment in Park Slope with an attractive woman.

Even though my transition was what I wanted and need to do, I missed her for a long time.  Some of the best conversations and meals I've ever shared were with her. And, of course, there was the cycling, which included bike tours of the Loire Valley, a week of exploring the Paris region by bike, and day and weekend rides in Vermont, Massachusetts, upstate New York--and the environs of our fair city.

One of the best things, though, was that I didn't have to lie to her when I bought bikes or bike-related equipment.  Part of the reason was that I bought a bike for her and she bought one for me.  So, she knew what bikes, parts and the kit I wore cost.

Had we stayed together, I would not have shared this fear of so many other cyclists:

Tomorrow I will start writing about "serious" cycling topics again.  Really!

It Does It All For You!

Nobody, it seems, does practical urban bicycles quite like the Dutch.

It's been a while since I've been to Amsterdam. I'm sure it's as lovely as ever, and that cyclists feel right at home.  I hear, however, that because it's crowded, it can be a bit difficult to navigate.

So, being ever so practical, what would the good Dutch folks come up with?




Of course it includes an app to tell you what day it is.  

Santa In The Spring

I am an educator.  It's still strange for me to write those words.  You see, I resisted becoming one and  quit for a few years when I was having a midlife crisis.  I then realized that I didn't need to change jobs:  I only had to change my gender.

Anyway, one of the reasons I tried not to become a teacher (which was the only kind of educator I knew about) was that I hated most of my teachers.  I guess that's not so unusual because, well, most kids hate their teachers and some of my elementary-school teachers were Carmelite nuns. Yes, they wore the black habits.

I did, however, have teachers I liked, and not necessarily because they were "easy".  Rather, I realize now that they "got" me:  I wasn't the best-behaved or smartest kid, butI wasn't destructive and I loved to read and write.  So they encouraged me in those areas and even showed interest in whatever happened to interest me at the time.

Cycling wasn't one of those interests, though.  It wasn't that I didn't like to ride:  The reason why they couldn't help or encourage me in those areas is that none of them rode.  Actually, through all of my pre-adult life, adults didn't ride bikes and most assumed that a kid would "grow out of it", probably upon getting his or her driver's license, or not long after.

Now, I don't know whether South Carolina elementary-school teacher Katie Blomquist pedals to her school, or anyplace else.  But she surely understands how much having a bike means to her kids.  She also knew that many of them, or their families, couldn't afford one.  

So, last summer, she decided she would play Santa Claus and make sure all of the kids in her school got a bike for Christmas.  She started a GoFundMe campaign that would raise $80,000.  Donations came from as far away as France and Australia.  In the meantime, she worked with a local bike shop called Affordabike to pick out color schemes and other aspects of the bikes.  Affordabike also provided the kids with matching locks and helmets.




Katie's Kids, if you will, didn't get their bikes for Christmas.  But yesterday the bikes, helmets and locks were delivered to the Pepperhill Elementary School in North Charleston, South Carolina.  The largesse wasn't limited to the pupils of her class:  All 650 Pepperhill pupils received the bikes, helmets and locks.

So, while they didn't get the Christmas gift every kid dreams of, their wheels are ready for the beginning of spring break--and summer.

Pepperhill is a Title 1 school, which means that it receives extra funding from the Federal government for its students, many of whom come from low-income families. But, for a day, they were all equal in the wealth of happiness they experienced--and the kindness of a teacher they, I am sure, will always recall fondly! 

Keeping Kids Off Bike-Share Bikes

I haven't been to China.  At one time in my life, it was at the top of my "bucket list" of places to go.  That was after someone I knew spent a couple of months there about a quarter of a century ago.  She, like other visitors of the time, described it as a "land of bikes", where pedaled two-wheeled conveyances far outnumbered any other kind of vehicle "by about five hundred to one".  And she is an old-school New Englander who isn't given to exaggeration!

From what I heard, that started to change a few years later, as more Chinese people could afford automobiles.  I read accounts of bicycle-thronged streets that had become choked with cars ten or fifteen years later.  It seemed sad, but, really, no different from what happened decades earlier in the US and other places:  Once people had the means to drive, their bicycles were left to collect dust, or dropped in the dustbin.

These days, from what I've been reading, the bicycle has been making a "comeback".  A few years ago, Beijing's bike-share program seemed like a "bust", as automobiles came to be seen as not only symbols of prosperity, but as prerequisites to marriage, at least for some families.  But in cities like the Chinese capital, streets--particularly those in older neighborhoods--are narrow and in other ways ill-suited to automotive traffic.  Plus, thickening smog led to illness and in other ways degraded people's quality of life, and people found that their commutes were taking longer and longer due to snarled traffic.  

So the bicycle seems to be experiencing a renaissance in The Land of Dragons.  Beijing's bike share program is booming, as are those in other Chinese cities. (Of the world's 15 largest bike share programs, only two--those of Paris and London--aren't in China.)  And start-up companies like Mobike are eliminating the ports or docks other share programs use by offering an app that locates bikes that can be unlocked with a code that's sent to a user's phone.

Making bikes easier to access sounds great, at least for some people.  It has, however, led to some unintended consequences.  As someone who teaches and who didn't touch a computer until age 41, I know firsthand that kids are often more tech-savvy than their elders--in part because they have had access to the same devices, but at much earlier ages.

Using the Ofo bike-sharing app in Shanghai

Thus, a kid can access a bike-share or "Uber" bike as easily as anyone else can.  One problem is that Chinese law forbids children under the age of 12 from riding bikes on public roads.  But the consequences for a kid can be even worse than merely becoming a scofflaw:  Although bicycles are once again becoming a common sight, there is still a lot of motorized traffic on major thoroughfares, and even on side roads.  Adult Chinese cyclists, like their counterparts in other countries, have to exercise caution.  Even doing that, though, may not be enough to ensure a child's safety.

That point was driven home with the death of an 11-year-old boy in Shanghai.   While details of the tragedy haven't been revealed, we know that he was riding a bike from Ofo, one of the two main share companies in that city, on a busy road in the downtown area.  

Ofo is cooperating with the investigation and says it working on a way of deterring under-12s from using their bikes.  Some have suggested that the bright yellow color of its  machines (and the bright orange of Mobike, its rival) might entice young riders .  Others have said that Ofo, Mobike and anyone else who might enter the bike-sharing business should restrict access to their wheels in and around schools and other places frequented by children.

A Parachute Jump From Wheels?

I love it when old bicycles get new life.  Whether it's a "period" or "showroom" restoration, or retrofitted with modern parts that suit the rider's purposes, I'm glad to see a nicely-crafted (or, at least, well-made) machine giving service and pleasure to someone.  At least it's not in a landfill!

I can't always say the same about old parts.  Some, I like and even prefer to new stuff.  But, really, unless you have almost any non-indexed SunTour derailleur, or one or two other "vintage" models I can think of, almost any modern derailleur will shift better--with or without indexing.  Used vintage cogs, chains, rims and spokes are often too worn or stressed for continued use.  And old tires, unless they've been stored properly, might be too brittle to ride.  

So what do you do with old parts?  Well, more than a few artists and crafts people make jewelry, sculptures and other objets from them.  Because there are so many such creations nowadays--many of which I like--I don't spend a lot of time writing about them.  But, every once in a while one of them will catch my eye.  

Jake Beckman made this 35-foot (11 meter) tall sculpture for the entrance to the Morgana Run Trail, which itself is "recycled":  It's built on a former Wheeling and Lake Erie Railway corridor in the Slavic Village neighborhood of Cleveland, Ohio.  

Now, of course, you might be thinking Beckman's sculpture caught my attention because its color scheme is after my own heart.  That is one reason why, but I also couldn't help thinking about a structure I see in a place where I ride rather frequently:

I wonder whether Beckman knew about the Parachute Jump on the Coney Island boardwalk when he conceived of his totem.  

Good Bicycle Infrastructure: Good For Seniors

On more than one occasion, I've railed against drivers who park in bike lanes--or even use them to pass when they think "the coast is clear".

I used to get annoyed with skateboarders, skaters and runners who use the lanes.  Lately, though, I have had more sympathy for them, in part because of someone I talked to when I stopped for a red light a few weeks ago.

He was pushing his wheelchair in the lane I was pedaling.  I suppose the sympathy I feel for someone in his situation is normal:  After all, who grows up wanting to spend his or her life that way?

Anyway, he was apologized for using the lane.  "Don't worry," I intoned.  "Just be safe."

"Why do you think I do this?"

"What do you mean?"

He explained that he wheels himself along bike lanes because, in some places, the sidewalks are "impossible" to use.  "They're broken, they have debris all over them."  But,he said, "at least here"--meaning in New York--"we have sidewalks".  In other places--"like Florida", he said--"there aren't any sidewalks".  As often as not, it means he has to wait for people to drive him around because "it's just too dangerous to wheel a chair along those roads."

I was reminded of my encounter with that man when I came across an article from Connect Savannah.  In the Georgia city's "New, Arts & Entertainment Weekly," John Bennett writes, "People who ride bikes on Lincoln Street are used to seeing other wheeled conveyances in the bike lane."  He is "not talking about the cars that are regularly parked there."  Rather, he observes, that "people who use wheelchairs, scooters, walkers and other mobility aids" rely on the bike lanes to "permit them to safely reach important destinations."  

From Connect Savannah

Bennett said that a tweet from Anders Swanson, a Winnipeg designer and the chairman of the Canada Bikes board of directors, included a video of a man in a motorized wheelchair to remind people that "It's far more than just cycling."  His message to politicians is that unless they "never plan to grow old", bike infrastructure "should be their #1 priority."

As Bennett points out, having a good bicycle infrastructure is not just about separating cyclists from traffic. The lanes--when designed well--calm traffic, "improving safety and the comfort level for people who use mobility aids".  The result, according to Swanson, is that people have choices in their mode of transportation.  As Bennett so eloquently puts it, lanes "allow people like me to ride a bike to work instead of driving."  And, he says, it "makes it possible for a person in a wheelchair to shop for groceries at Kroger's."  

In places like Savannah, "when drivers argue against bike lanes, wider sidewalks and other traffic-calming measures," he explains,"what they are truly afraid of is losing their ability to speed," he explains.  However, "the consequences of prioritizing convenience of motorists over safety are dire," he reminds us, "especially for seniors".  

The reasons?   A 30-year-old chance has a three percent chance of being killed if hit by a car travelling 20 miles per hour.  At age 70, the mortality rate is 23 percent.  And, as speeds increase, so does the death rate.  It's not unusual, Bennett says, for motorists to drive at 45 MPH on Savannah streets.  A 30 year-old has a 50/50 chance of surviving an encounter with a vehicle travelling at that speed.  For 70-year-olds, the mortality rates increase to 83 percent.

So, in brief, creating good bicycle infrastructure (and I emphasize "good" here) is synonymous with making cities safer for people who use walkers, wheelchairs or motorized scooters--or for senior citizens generally.  In addition to enticing more people like me to bike (rather than, say, drive) to work, it also gives senior citizens--and others who can't, or don't want to, drive-- the opportunity to live more active and satisfying lives.

When You Can't See The Gates Of Hell (Or Hell Gate, Anyway).

My students are reading Dante's Inferno.  

As the narrator descends deeper into Hell, it gets darker. It's hard not to wonder how he doesn't stumble more often than he does.  I imagine it was more difficult for him to see when he passed through the Gates of Hell than it was when I rode by Hell Gate:

Yes, that is what I saw from the RFK Memorial Bridge while I rode into and out of showers on my way to work.  Somewhere in that mist are the Hell Gate Bridge as well as the Bronx and Westchester County.

When we started on Canto III--where the narrator and Virgil come to the Gate of Hell--I made a joke with my students.  "I'll tell you how to get to the Gate of Hell".

Then I advised them to go down the Grand Concourse, make a left at 138th Street (where the GC ends).  Then, they should go four blocks, take a right on St. Ann's Avenue, follow it to the end and take another left.  Pass under the RFK Bridge entrance and , underneath the railroad trestle (the Hell Gate Bridge), take a right to the Randall's Island Connector.  On the island, I told them, go left all the way to the water:  That stretch of the East River is known as Hell Gate.  

Most of my students don't live very far from the route.  Yet none realized that stretch is called Hell Gate.  And one student didn't even realize the post office in her neighborhood--the easternmost part of El Barrio, or East Harlem--is called Hell Gate Station (Zip Code 10035).

They think I'm dragging them through Hell in my class.  They are going to experience it only twice a week for a couple more weeks.  Me, I ride by it every day, on my way to meet them!

When You Need Them

You know how it is:  Whenever you need a paper clip, you can't find one.

Same goes for a place to park your bike.  Whenever you really need to lock up, it seems all of the usable lamp posts, parking meters and such are taken.


But what if you need a paper clip and a parking space at the same time?

It just figures that this rack is in Washington, DC!