Cyclists' Safety: It Became Personal For Her

Yesterday, I wrote about how a beloved member of his cycling community is being commemorated:  The University of Texas at San Antonio opened the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop in a former information booth.

The reason why he's being commemorated is, unfortunately, terrible:  He was killed by an intoxicated driver while riding his bike.

Sometimes, it seems, it takes the death of a cyclist or pedestrian to bring the issue home and spur people into action--that is, when someone isn't trying to blame the cyclist, or cyclists in general, even if the driver was drunk, high, distracted or driving with a suspended license (or no license at all).  

For Chesley Ann Epley Cobbs (Does that sound like a Southern name, or what?), the issue of safety came home, literally, when her brother was killed while riding his bicycle in Oklahoma City.  


As personal as the issue is for her, she made the point that cyclists' safety is vital to the redevelopment of her city.  "Having safe and protected bike lanes connecting our downtown communities secures the safety of getting to and from those places of well-being and entertainment that you are working so hard to build and elevate our great state," she said in a hearing at City Hall.

She found a receptive audience in at least two City Council members.  One, Jo Beth Hamon, described rides that "should take minutes" but take much longer because "going through the neighborhoods, there was no connection" between bike lanes.  As a result, she had to cross major thoroughfares, including a highway, to take what is a typical days' ride for her.

Another Council Member, James Cooper, connected the safety of cyclists and pedestrians to the overall livability of the city.  In addition to a lack of cycling infrastructure, he said that sidewalks are unsafe "in even our most walkable neighborhood, award-winning neighborhood."  He wondered how "a child" could "get safely to school, to a park" in the conditions he described.

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The Council members and Ms. Epley Cobbs spoke at a public proposal meeting on how to spend public funding earmarked for public facilities.  I hope that others in the decision-making process--in other places as well as Oklahoma City--understand what Ms. Epley Cobbs, Ms. Hamon and Mr. Cooper are trying to say:  Ensuring the safety of people who get around without motor vehicles is a vital part of a modern city's development, or redevelopment.  

Tito Bradshaw: Keeping Up His Memory, And Work

Every community needs to memorialize its heroes, advocates, champions and friends.  In that way, we in the cycling community are no different.

We're not (at least here in the US) yet at the point of having monuments, buildings, streets, plazas or even corners named after bicycling advocates.  But we may be moving in that direction, if in small ways and a few locations.

One of those locales is San Antonio--specifically, the University of Texas campus in that city.  There, an old information booth has been turned into the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop.

Tito Bradshaw/. Photo by Scott Ball.

Now, the fact that a campus structure has been re-purposed as a bicycle repair shop shows us that the bicycling community has some sort of presence at the school.  Just as important, the fact that it's been named after Tito Bradshaw means that at least some people within that community--and at least a few outside it--know about his work as an activist and the owner of Bottom Bracket Bicycle Shop.

Plans to convert the booth into a repair shop were already in the works when, in May, he was struck and killed by an intoxicated  driver while riding his bicycle.  He was only 35 years old.  Now, we can hope, his work and community spirit will continue--and expand.

Cyclists on bridge memorialize Tito Bradshaw. Photo by Bonnie Arbitter.

She's 14. And She's Black. That Can Only Mean....

Mary Barton found herself lying on the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

She rode her bike on someone's property. Or so the owner of said property said.  Said property owner called the police.  Two officers showed up.  One of them told her she could leave, but the second officer told her to stop.

Officer #2 claimed the bike was stolen and demanded identification.  She said she didn't have to produce it  (Apparently, she was paying attention in her civics class!) and, furthermore, the bike is hers and she's had it since December.  Then the cop pulled out his pepper spray and told her to call her mom. 

Mary Burton is 14 years old.  If you haven't already watched the video, you might have guessed that she's black.  Oh, and she's in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

Her brother, a year older, rushes to her aid and both are up against the police car.  Mary fell to the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

Well, I guess those cops at least believe in gender equality:  Usually, it's the guys who get stopped for riding a bicycle (or driving) while black.  

When You're In Sierra Leone, Look For Stylish

Go to your local bike shop and ask for "Stylish".

Depending on the shop, you might be shown an elegant city bike or colorful jersey.  But it's not likely that someone in the shop will answer to it.

That is, unless your shop is in Sierra Leone.

Well, Stylish's (I never thought I'd use a possessive form of that word!) workplace isn't exactly a bike shop.  But it does connect people with bikes.  To be exact, he's the country manager for Village Bicycle Project, a US-based charity that focuses on sustainable transportation in Africa.  

Stylish.  Photo by Tom Owen

He has a workshop where he fixes bikes, and he does workshops in which he teaches people--particularly women and girls--how to ride bikes.  In his country, and others, women aren't taught how to ride because of notions that we can lose our virginity to a bicycle saddle. (Hmm...I guess it's a good thing I learned how to ride when I was still male!)  This not only robs them of the joy of cycling, it also limits their freedom and time they have to themselves, as they are often balancing family duties with outside work and/or school.  Having a bicycle increases their mobility, and options.

In addition to his bicycle-related work, Stylish has also, for the past six years, run a feeding program in the town of Lunsar.   In August, torrential rains make it impossible to harvest crops and a lot of people go hungry.  Last year, during that month, he provided meals for 80 neighborhood kids; in return, they had to attend English and Math lessons.  "I don't want to just create another thing where I am giving and they are taking," he explains.  This project, he says, is funded entirely by donations from people he has met personally, both in Sierra Leone and abroad.

With all he does, is it any wonder that 26-year-old Stylish has won his country's Young Philanthropist of the Year award?  

Although he was given the award as Abdul Karim Karama, the name he was given at birth, if you ever go to Sierra Leone, don't ask for him by that name. Remember, he's Stylish.  

Celebration Rides

Yesterday's post was rather depressing, if necessary.  So today I'll be a bit more cheerful.  Or, at least, I'll follow Walt Whitman and celebrate myself.

Last Thursday, on the Fourth, I said I'd "sneak in" a ride before going to a barbecue with friends.  Well, that barbecue started a bit later than planned and, of course, there was no rule about being there when it started.  

When does a barbecue "start" anyway?  When the first burger or chicken wing is placed on the grill?  Or when the first one is eaten?  Even if you can fix a "start" time, when is someone "late" for a barbecue?  When the food runs out?  

Cyclists Resting at the Top of Pendle Hill by Gosha Gibek

Anyway, the ride I "snuck" in took me to Connecticut and back:  137 kilometers, or about 85 miles.  

A ride and a barbecue:  Really, what more could I want on my birthday--which just happens to be US Independence Day!


The other day, I celebrated another "birthday".  On Sunday, the 7th, I took another ride to Connecticut. I took a longer route, though, from Rye to the Nutmeg State, over a series of roads that climbed ridges and looped around farms north of Greenwich.  Then I descended one of those ridges into the town of Greenwich.  In all, I rode 169 kilometers, or 105 miles.

When I set out on my ride, though, I didn't realize I was celebrating another "birthday":  It's something that occurred to me while I was climbing one of the ridges.  On that day, exactly ten years ago (7 July 2009), I had my gender reassignment surgery.  It kept me off my bike for a few months and I started this blog not long after I started riding again.

Oh, and while I was riding/celebrating, the US Women's Soccer/Football team won the World Cup.  If I were just a little more self-centered, I'd say they did it for me, or there was some sort of cosmic convergence.  But I have just enough humility to believe in coincidences that I can't explain.

Then again, when you can celebrate, do you really need to explain?

How Many More?

This year is only half-over.  Here in New York City, more cyclists have already been killed by motorists than met such a fate in all of 2018.

The fifteenth and latest such victim is 28-year-old artist Devra Freelander.  A week ago, she was riding on Bushwick Avenue when a cement truck hit her.  

Devra Freelander

I am very familiar with Bushwick Avenue, a 10 kilometer long thoroughfare that cuts through the center of Brooklyn, from Greenpoint in the northwest to East New York in the southeast.  It is perhaps most famous for being part of Robert F. Kennedy's walking tour, which is said to have changed his politics prior to his 1968 Presidential campaign.  Today, it serves as a conduit for hundreds, if not thousands, of people--mostly young--who pedal to their jobs or clients in Manhattan.  

It also is, unfortunately, a prime route for trucks like the one that struck Devra Freelander.  While gentrification, in one degree or another, has taken hold in the neighborhoods (with the exception of Brownsville) along Bushwick Avenue, there are still industrial areas near the ends of the avenue--in East New York and East Williamsburg, where Ms. Freelander met her unfortunate fate.

Bushwick Avenue, for most of its length, has two lanes in each direction.  Because it's a major thoroughfare, traffic is usually heavy and there isn't much room to maneuver--especially for vehicles as large as cement trucks.  Worse yet, most trucks don't offer their drivers good sight lines, especially on narrow city streets.

What exacerbates the problem is that the city does little to enforce regulations on trucks or other commercial vehicles.  As a result, truck drivers frequently hurtle along at well above the speed limit--as the driver of the truck that struck Devra Freelander did.  Also, trucks are often operated outside of their legally-designated routes.  The NYPD's 90th Precinct, which covers the area where Ms. Freelander was killed, has issued only five tickets in 2019 to truckers operating outside their legal routes:  something--you guessed it--the driver was doing at the time he struck Ms. Freelander.

I don't want to make light of this situation, but there is a "You can't make this up!" aspect of the story.  Devra Freelander, the artist, made sculptures and video art that examined climate change, geological time and technocapitalism.  And she was killed by a cement truck while riding her bicycle.  

The year is only half-over, and more cyclists have been killed by motorists than in all of 2018. Devra Freelander is the latest.  How many more must meet her fate before my city gets serious about enforcing its regulations on trucks?

How Gentlemen Travel

We've all seen images of well-dressed, tophatted men astride high-wheel bicycles during cycling's first heyday.

We all know that those high-wheelers disappeared once the "safety" bicycle--with two wheels more of the same size, the rear driven by a chain and sprockets--was invented.

What if the bicycle "evolved" in a different direction?  How would the world be a different place?

Could we be looking at well-tailored gentlemen (and ladies) on unicycles?

Artists: Guy and Rodd

In The Saddle, Through The Eyes Of A Bee

About a decade ago, New York City, my hometown, legalized beekeeping.  Other cities have done likewise, and in some other cities, the practice has always been legal.  A result is that the number of urban beekeepers has grown exponentially.  

In the Big Apple (Now there's something a bee would like!), the first apiarians were amateur hobbyists.  These days, however, there are beekeeping businesses in formerly-abandoned industrial buildings as well as other "recycled" spaces.  As you might expect, beekeepers in New York and other cities are selling honey--some with interesting and unique flavors--in farmers' markets and even to stores.  They also, ironically, sell bees and hives to farmers and fruit growers.

Another trend in large and mid-sized cities coincided with the re-discovery of beekeeping.  Since you're reading this blog (Aren't you smart!), you have probably guessed what it is:  bicycling, for transportation as well as recreation.  Just as hives were being built in old warehouses, bike lanes and other infrastructure were blazing their way through urban neighborhoods.

It makes sense, then, that these two trends would meet at some point.

More precisely, they have met in someone:  Jana Kinsman, founder of Bike a Bee in Chicago.

Jana Kinsman. Photo by Adam Alexander.

Seven years ago, she was working in graphic design but wanted a change.  To help satisfy a lifelong curiosity about bees, and insects in general, she took a winter beekeeping class with the Chicago Honey Co-op.  After that finishing that class, she went to Eugene, Oregon to apprentice with a beekeeper.  She brought the skills she learned there back to the Windy City, and began a Kickstarer campaign that raised $8000.  With that, and her 1974 Peugeot PX-10 (You can do damn near anything with that bike!), she "started Bike a Bee out of my apartment," she says.

Jana with bike and bees.  Photo by Brent Knepper.

In the beginning, her operation was in her apartment.  "All of the equipment was stored in my bedroom and we extracted honey in my living room," she recalls. (I must say that I've lived with housemates who did less to contribute their fair share of the rent, and who were far more dangerous!)  Today, Bike a Bee maintains more than 50 hives in community gardens, schools and urban farms on the city's South Side.  She pedals between those sites to conduct inspections and collect honey.  From those places, she transports honey all over the city, where it is sold in farmers' markets and stores.

She says she has yet to find the need for a motor vehicle.  What's more, working by bicycle has other benefits.  Not only does it keep her physically active, it helps her to be more mindful and enjoy the community around her.  "When you're on your bike, you're slower," she explains. You're able to take things in more.  Stop whenever you want, wherever you want.  You can see nature more, the blooms in the trees.  You connect much more with the world around you by bike."

Could it be that from the saddle of her Peugeot PX-10, Jana Kinsman is seeing her city through the eyes of a bee?

Jana with bees. Photo by Adam Alexander.

When The Tide Was Out

The other day I took a ride to Point Lookout. Despite the warmth and humidity, I didn’t see many people along the Rockway beach and boardwalk, or on the Nassau County south shore.  I felt as if I had the seaside to myself.  Well, almost....

...and until I got to Point Lookout.

The tide was out.   But I behaved myself.  I’m not proud of myself:  What else could I do?

I enjoyed the ride nonetheless.

Fourth Wheels

Today is US Independence Day.

I'm going to sneak in a bike ride before going to a barbecue with friends.  (I've been riding quite a bit lately; I haven't been writing about it because I've been taking familiar rides, e.g., to Greenwich and the Rockaways and Point Lookout.)  One thing I won't do, though, is decorate my bike for the occasion.

I mean, really, why should I when one can see creations like these?:

From Cool Mom Picks

Happy Fourth.  Oh, and it's my birthday.