27 November 2018

The Original Sports Technology?

Last week, many of us gave thanks for one thing or another on the American holiday dedicated to expressing gratitude by engorging one's self with food.

Some of us were grateful for family and friends; others, simply to be alive. Then there are those who were grateful to stores for opening an hour earlier than they did last year.  You know what they say:  Early bird gets the bargains.

Well, all right, I don't know who said that.  But a fellow named Tom Taylor and I both gave thanks for...you guessed it...the bicycle.  Of course, we are both happy that a thing that gives us so much pleasure was ever invented.  He, however, gives another really good reason to be happy that the Draisienne, or whatever you consider the first bicycle, was invented.



You see, Taylor is, a mountain biker and involved in other outdoor sports.  At least, that's what I gather from what he says.  And he lives in Moab, after all.

In his article, he said the bicycle was "the original sports tech."  What he means is that, as far as we know, cycling was the first sport or leisuretime activity based on a product that required a certain amount of industrial capacity to produce.

As he explains, you don't need shoes to run and, "a branch falls from a tree, you find a pebble on the ground, and now you can play some form of cricket, or hockey, or baseball or golf.  Yes, you can make a better golf club and ball, but you can play regardless."  

He has a point:  Some of the most accomplished players in the "ball sports" learned how to play with nothing that resembles proper equipment.  They might've just rolled up whatever they could find to make a "ball" and, if sticks or clubs were necessary, twigs, branches or 2x4s from the junkyard stood in.  Naturally, some such athletes played barefoot until they signed their first professional contracts.

It also goes almost without saying that they played in the absence of any formal leagues, or any other kinds of structure or rules. For that matter, they sometimes didn't play on anything resembling a playing field or court.

I am talking about no less than Pele and Sammy Sosa.  Also, any number of hockey players used rocks or other things for "pucks" and anything that could be used to swat served as their hockey sticks.  I even read about one world-class player--I can't recall which, at the moment--who didn't even have skates until he joined a semi-professional league:  He and his friends would simply glide around on the ice on their most slippery shoes.

Now, we have often heard of champion cyclists who came from humble backgrounds, whether the family farm or a gritty indstrial town.  One could say that, for such reasons, a cyclist can't come from the same dire poverty as a football player from the favela because it takes more money to buy even the cheapest bicycle than it does to fashion a ball or stick.  Even if a budding young racer has to borrow a bike from a relative, friend or neighbor, simply having that kind of access signals less deprivation than not having a playing ball.

All of this might explain why no Grand Tour (or other major race) winner has come from an undeveloped country, while marathons and other running races are routinely won by competitors from places like Ethiopia and Jamaica.  This explanation makes sense, at least to me, when you realize that many European and American cyclists are also runners (and I'm not talking only about triathloners).  As Tom Taylor says, you can learn how to be a runner without shoes.  But it's pretty hard to learn how to ride a bike if, well, you don't have a bike.

26 November 2018

The Real Bronx Zoo

Even though I've lived in New York for decades, I've been to the Bronx Zoo maybe a couple of times.  In fact, it's been  a while since I've been to any zoo at all:  The older I get, the less I like seeing animals in cages--especially if said animals are orange or striped!

Besides, why do I need to go to the Bronx Zoo when I can see this in the Bronx:




I was pedaling along the path to Pelham Bay Park when our friend in the photo stopped for a snack. 


As I inched closer, the hungry ungulate hardly even stirred.  I'm not sure of exactly how close I could have come, so I stood, bike in hand, and let the creature eat, turn and get a look at me before taking off.




Then I took off--for Connecticut.  I didn't see any deer the rest of the way.  Only in the Bronx!

25 November 2018

For Transportation Deserts

Cycling advocates and urban planners sometimes talk about combining modes of transportation. Usually, they mean using a personal and a mass mode of transportation.  One example might be riding your bike to the train or bus station.

I'm sure that bicycles have been combined with other modes of transportation in ways I never imagined--or, perhaps,that I wouldn't have wanted to imagine:



I don't know whether to feel more sorry for the "camel" or the bike.

24 November 2018

Cross With The App

What would you think of an app that signals your approach at an intersection?

Well, the city of Santa Clarita, California--in partnership with Sensys Networks Inc--is piloting such a system along the Chuck Pontius Commuter Rail Bike Trail (Say that three times fast!), which parallels Soledad Canyon Road.  

The system consists of a GiveMeGreen! smartphone app, which allows cyclists to be detected 300 feet in advance of an intersection.  Once detected, the app's signal applies the normal timing function for pedestrian crossing.  This lets pedestrians and cyclists use the same signal phase and "will not cause any delay for motorists," according to a Santa Clarita Gazette report.

While that stated purpose both intrigues and troubles me, I think there might actually be a benefit for cyclists:  Motorists are often confused when they see pedestrians and cyclists at intersections, especially if pedestrians are crossing by one signal and cyclists another--or are following the same signals and timing as motorists.  




It seems that half of the new system already exists on Soledad Canyon Road:  There are bicycle- and pedestrian- only signs to alert turning motorists that cyclists and pedestrians could be crossing the intersection.  This system has a bicycle-only light to tell the cyclist he or she has been detected.  From what I understand, however, these lights are not connected to an app:  Apparently, they rely on cameras or some other detection device at the intersection itself.

I would be interested to see whether this app and its system actually makes cyclists safer when crossing intersections--which, I believe, is the most perilous thing we do, especially if we are crossing a roadway intersection from a bike lane.  Then again, I am not sure of how detectable I want to be--or, more specifically, of who I want to detect me, and from where--while I'm riding!



23 November 2018

Black Friday Bicycle Haiku?

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that one of my passions is for poetry.  I love it as much as I love cycling.  Well, maybe I love them equally.

(Does that sound like what we say about our "significant others"?  I love you even more than my bike...he said with crossed fingers.)


Anyway, I've been reading and writing poetry for a long time.  One thing I haven't done in a long time, though, is to write a  haiku.  In fact, I'm certain that I've never written one:  I mimicked the structure, but did not capture the essence of, the iconic Japanese mode.


That doesn't mean, though, that I'll try to stop others from doing the 17syllable/3 lines thing, even if it's in the service of capitalism--or the bike business, anyway: 




On the YouTube page for this video, Clever Cycles, the company that posted it, invited viewers to ponder this eternal question: "Who says poetry doesn't pay?"

Hmm...Maybe I should start writing Black Friday haiku, even if it seems almost oxymoronic.

Happy Black Friday...hmm, that seems pretty oxymoronic, too!

21 November 2018

I Ride My Bike To Release Stress. Really!

Tomorrow I will be thankful for at least one thing:  I didn't have to travel, at least not long-distance, today.  I still commuted, but at least I didn't have to navigate crowded airports or rail terminals.

For the most part, my commute is pretty stress-free, as much of it takes me through Randalls Island.  There are a couple of traffic "hot zones" near the entrance to the RFK-Triborough Bridge and where I cross Bruckner Boulevard, underneath the elevated "express"way.  (I use the quotation marks because I will not call a roadway "express" if the traffic is as likely as not to be at a standstill!)  Those places were more chaotic than usual and, aside from Randalls Island, I saw more traffic--and more Stupid Driver and Stupid Pedestrian Tricks just about everywhere.


So, I could say that my commute today was more stressful than it usually is.  Still, I suppose it's less stressful than being stuck in traffic, and I know it's less stressful than being on a packed subway train.  Even so, I'd say that this morning's commute was one of the more stressful ones I've experienced.  I probably will say the same about my commute home.


Jon Orcutt, a longtime advocate for cycling and urban mobility in general, tweeted about a stressful ride he took.  It didn't take him by the Port Authority Bus Terminal or Penn Station. (When I was a wee thing, I thought the Lord's Prayer pleaded, "And lead us not into Penn Station..") Instead, it led him across Manhattan:






Yes, he was on a brand-new "protected" bike lane on the side of 13th Street.  I have experienced things in "protected" bike lanes:  In fact, I had to dodge two trucks pulling in and out of factories, parents dropping off their kids in a pre-school and some impatient driver who thought the Willow Avenue bike path was a passing lane--never mind that it's lined with stanchions:

and that's just in five blocks, from 133rd to 138th Street.  Then, at 138th, I had to turn and make that crossing of Bruckner.


Oh well.  I guess I still got to work less stressed-out than most other commuters--and certainly less stressed-out than anyone who's flying, taking long-distance trains or buses, or driving so they can sit tomorrow with their families and stuff themselves with stuffed turkey and a whole bunch of other stuff.  Then they'll stress themselves over the weight they've gained--and, possibly, about whether they'll get any great bargains on "Black Friday".

20 November 2018

ASE Is Not an Ace After All

By now, you've probably heard that Advanced Sports Enterprises--the company that owns Performance Bicycle, Bike Nashbar and several well-known bicycle brands--has filed for bankruptcy.

According to ASE, it means that some of Performance's brick-and-mortar stores will close, employees will be laid off and Performance's and Nashbar's operations will be scaled bike.  The company did not, however, give any indication that any of the bike brands it owns--which include Fuji, Kestrel, Breezer and Tuesday Bicycles--will be discontinued.  According to Patrick Cunnane, ASE's CEO, sales of those bikes have been "steady" but overall sales and profits didn't grow enough to sustain their retail operations.

Translation:  The company over-expanded.

Company insiders, not surprisingly, laid at least part of the blame for the company's woes at the doorstep of Amazon.  It's difficult to discount such an analysis:  Most bikes that aren't custom or specialty machines, and most bike-related stuff, can be found on the online omnivendor, usually at a lower price than Performance or Nashbar offered, and almost always with free shipping.



There is, of course, a certain irony in all of this.  When Performance, Nashbar and other retailers--which sold through mail-order catalogues and took orders by telephone as well as via the post office--were growing in popularity, mom-and-pop bike shop owners lamented, "They're killing us!"  And there can be little doubt that Performance, Nashbar and the like were responsible for the demise of many smaller shops, which simply couldn't compete price-wise because they never could order the same quantities of merchandise as the mail-order megaliths.

I wonder whether any of ASE's or Performance executives heard the cries of  brick-and-mortar bike shop owners.  If they had, it's hard to imagine why Performance opened any physical shops.  Perhaps those execs thought that people had enough "brand loyalty" to Performance that they'd go to one of those shops.

The folks in charge at ASE probably had no idea of how expensive it is to operate a bike shop, which needs more space than most other kinds of retail establishments.  From what I read and heard, Performance used to buy whole boatloads of Shimano equipment and store it in huge warehouses which they owned.  So, until they opened brick-and-mortar shops, they didn't need a showroom or an area for bike repairs.  Also, since they had a worldwide customer base, their merchandise didn't sit for as long as it often does in a smaller bike shop.

They also probably had no idea that, essentially, Amazon could beat them at their own game, which could be spelled in five letters--  p-r-i-c-e--in part because its overhead was even lower than that of Performance or Nashbar.

I'm not a business person. But I know this much:  Whatever game you play can be played by someone else.  And if that competitor finds a new method, tactic or technology, watch out!

19 November 2018

Not In Hamilton's Backyard!

Nobody likes seeing broken-down cars or trucks rusting away in someone's front yard.  Part of the reason, of course, is that it's unsightly and can be a health hazard.  But I think it also has to do with the perception that anyone who keeps the rotting hulks of motor vehicles next to his or her house is low-class.  Some people, I'm sure, associate decaying station wagons and vans with trailers rather than solid middle-class homes.

I think most people would be even more surprised to see such waste next to a brownstone in a fashionable part of the city.  Certainly, almost nobody expects to see something like this:



in front of a landmarked brownstone in a designated historic district.  But I saw that pile of bikes and parts in front of such a house in Hamilton Heights, just two blocks away from the house once owned by the man for whom the district--and a popular Broadway musical--are named.



I would love to know the story of how all of those bikes and parts ended up there.  

18 November 2018

Priorities

I'll admit that on one or two--okay, maybe a couple more--all right, a few more--occasions, I went for a bike ride instead of something I "should" have done.

Mind you, I never skipped out on anything vital.  I only played hooky from meetings and other events that written or unwritten protocols recommended or advised.  

Oh, and I'll admit that I missed a life event or two, but not of anybody who was particularly close or important to me.  And, all right, here's my big confession:  I actually skipped out on somebody's "big day"

Image result for funny bicycle images

The ceremony I missed was for a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend of an acquaintance, or something like that.  And, as I recall, I didn't receive a formal invitation, only a verbal one.  I'm not sure that anyone noticed I wasn't there.

On the other hand, I still recall that ride (with Jonathan) many years later.