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.
Three years ago, a man pedaled into the Lincoln Tunnel, a violation of Port Authority regulations. So why did he wander into that 2.5 km-long tube under the Hudson? The route was suggested on a phone app.
Even if it weren't prohibited, I wouldn't cycle in the Tunnel--unless, perhaps, it were closed to traffic. On a scale from 1 to 4, with 4 being the most stressful, I think the fumes and claustrophobic space would make it a four-plus on a new interactive bike map.
The City of Milwaukee Department of Public Works has just developed such a map for the Cream City. It can be accessed from a computer or mobile device and rates each street from low (1) to high (4) stress, based on factors such as how many people drive on it and whether or not it has a bike lane. Riders can use the map to plot a route that includes as many low-stress streets as possible.
The good news about the COVID-19 epidemic (Did I actually write that?) is that more people are riding bikes.
The bad news is that more bikes are being stolen. What's worse is that not all of the thieves are taking unattended bikes or breaking locks on parked machines. Perps know they're harder to identify when they're wearing masks, so some have become more brazen about how they part riders from their wheels.
Such was the case a month ago, just a few miles from my apartment. Sometimes, during rides to or from Fort Totten or Nassau County, I'll stop in Flushing--the Chinatown of Queens--for dumplings or other tasty treats. A young man who stopped in front of a restaurant near Main Street--may have had the same idea.
Whatever his intention, another young man started to talk to him. The distraction allowed another young man to approach him from behind--and slash him in the face.
He dropped his phone and bike. The guy who started the conversation scooped them up and took off. The slasher ran into a subway station a few doors away.
Everything was captured on video. I just hope someone can recognize the perps and call the NYPD hotline (1-800-577-8477 for English, 1-800-577-4782 for Spanish).
I know, it isn't all about me. At least, what I'm about to relate isn't. But I write this blog, ostensibly about bicycling, and end up talking about myself. Then again, what blogger doesn't talk about him/her/themself?
So here goes: Forty years ago, John Lennon was murdered by someone who claimed --like other actual and would-be murderers and assassins--to have been inspired by Holden Caulfield (who was, not a killer, but a teenage rebel who feels disgust for almost everything in the adult world) of Catcher in the Rye.
Four decades ago? Four decades ago! At the time, I had lived barely half that amount of time. On the other hand, John had lived as long (having turned 40 two months earlier) when he was shot.
In an earlier post, I relayed one of his fondest memories: of getting a bike as a kid. He rode it everywhere and didn't leave it outside at night, as other people in his neighborhood did. His wheels accompanied him to bed, he said.
Of course, what is better-known is someone who accompanied him to bed:
Yes, a bicycle accompanied him and Yoko during their first "Bed-In For Peace" in Amsterdam. I don't know whether they had a bike during their second Bed-In, in Montreal, but it wouldn't surprise me if they did.
Here they are in 1972, stopping for what has long been a quintessential New York experience, but one that is disappearing. Those iconic Sabrett's hot dog carts are being replaced by Halal food trucks and carts that serve kebabs and chicken or lamb with rice, as well trucks and carts offering other tacos, pizza and other "street foods."
(As best as I can tell, John is riding a Bottechia ten-speed and Yoko is on a Dunelt or Rudge three-speed. At least, I'm sure it's a three-speed but not a Raleigh.)
John, apparently, never gave up his love for cycling, even when he and the Beatles were touring and turning out an album or two every year.
Tell me: Does that look like '60's England, or what?
It certainly looks like John, expressing his kind of joy.
My guess is that one common (if not the most common) impetus is the memory of a loved one, whether a blood relative, friend or anyone else who matters to the person doing the work.
Such is the case for Kay and Craig Collier. For the past 27 years, the Brownwood, Texas residents have been collecting bicycles and distributing them for Good Samaritan Ministries and other non-profit charities. The need is great in their area which, in spite (or some would say because of) Camp Bowie, has lower income and higher poverty rates than average for Texas or the United States.
Kay Collier (left) with Marie Smith of Good Samaritan Ministries (Photo by Derrick Stuckly)
One of the needy could have been Kay's brother, had he not become her brother. Her parents adopted Sidney Collier Hanks through Catholic Charities when he was six years old. For his first Christmas with his new family, Kay's mother asked Sidney what he wanted from Santa. "He said it didn't matter, he never gets what he wants, but he really would like to have bike," Kay recalls.
He soon came to be known "Sid on the Bike" in the community. "He wore out a bike, and sometimes my mom would have to get him two a year," she remembers. He rode "everywhere," she says, continuing even after getting his driver's license at age 18.
So far, that sounds like a typical story. That is, until you consider a handicap Sid had to overcome: one leg was 12 inches shorter than the other. At the time he was adopted, he was living in a group home where the foster mother made booties but not shoes. "My mother found someone to get him shoes made that were built up and very heavy." Still, Kay says, "he rode that bike anyway."
Phlebitis developed in Sid's shorter leg. Finally, he needed hip surgery because the shorter leg was causing so much stretch to the normal one. He was on the verge of being relegated to a wheelchair when he passed away, at age 28.
At that time, Kay, now a receptionist for Good Samaritan Ministries, and Craig were expecting their first daughter, whom they named Sidney. She is now 27 years old: the same age as the couple's bicycle charity.
Are squirrels genetically programmed to play chicken with cyclists?
It sure seems as if they are. It seems that any time I pedal through a leafy area, one of those fuzzy creatures hops and scampers as close to my wheel as it can without getting tangled in my spokes. Then it scampers away.
That leads me to wonder: How would a squirrel ride a bicycle?
The image is available as a T-shirt. I think it's kinda cute.
I have never owned a carbon fiber bicycle--or even a component larger than a brake lever made from the material. I've ridden CF, and can appreciate its ride qualities. Still, I'm not ready to plunk down my hard-earned money for it.
Some folks, though, simply must have it. But they not only don't want to spring for it; they don't have the necessary funds (or credit lines).
Well, for such consumers, there's good news: Specialized--one of the most-recognized names in the carbon fiber bike arena--has just introduced a machine that will sell for $999 in the US (999 GBP in the UK, which, at yesterday's exchange rate, translates to $1342.91).
The news gets even better: The wheels, as well as the frame and fork, are made from carbon fiber. So are the handlebars and stem.
Now to the bad news: If you were dreaming of a spot in the Tour, Giro or Vuelta, you won't be allowed to ride it on this bike: It weighs only 2.1 kg (4.6 pounds). The Union Cyclisme International, the sport's international governing body, doesn't allow bikes lighter than 6.8 kg (14.991 pounds) in the races it sanctions.
But your kid might be able to ride it in a Tour, Giro or Vuelta for toddlers. That is the intended market for this machine. One reason why it's so light is that it doesn't have cranks, pedals, chain, derailleurs, shifters or brakes.
Why? According to the company, some of their aluminum frames and rear triangles have a defect that can cause them to bend or buckle.
Now, I don't want anyone to get hurt because a frame or fork buckled under him or her. And I am glad Santa Cruz bicycles is trying to make things right for their customers.
Still, I thought it was kind of funny that frames shaped like the ones in the recall are being replaced because they might bend.
I mean, someone not familiar with the bikes wouldn't know they were bent, would they?
The bikes and frames in question were sold from June 2019 to October 2020.
Yesterday’s story told the tragic end of an award-winning journalist—and cycling enthusiast—on a Florida road.
The story I’m going to relate today didn’t end as badly—the cyclist survived. But it had this in common with Tim O’Brien’s mishap: It had a cause in something neither that cyclist, O’Brien (or, for that matter anyone else) could have foreseen. That cause, however stemmed at least in part from poor planning, design or policy.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, O’Brien was struck by a car that ricocheted after it was struck by a pickup truck making a left turn on Route A1A: a two-lane road (for most of its length) where drivers drive at highway speeds and make left turns onto side streets where, as often as not, there are no signals or signs. Also, on A1A, the sidewalks serve as bike lanes and, too often, shoulders or pull-over lanes for cars.
The cyclist I’m going to mention today was swept off his bike by a tide—while pedaling along a bike lane that skirted the edge of the water.
This near-tragedy struck on the path between Lake Michigan and Chicago’s Lakeshore Drive. Although Michigan, like the other Great Lakes, is filled with fresh water, it—like Superior, Huron, Erie and Ontario—is really a vast inland sea with its own tides.
Those tides are affected by the same things that whip up the oceans: the moon’s gravitational pull, geocentric forces—and the weather, the wind in particular.
I know these phenomena quite well: I often cycle along the Verrazano Narrows, Long Island Sound, Upper New York Bay (where the Hudson River ends) Jamaica Bay and the misnamed East and Harlem Rivers. All are inlets or bays of the Atlantic Ocean: something people living by them learned the hard way during Superstorm Sandy! I have been reminded of the waters’ provenance a few times when waves spilled onto the paths or streets I was riding.
Now, some might say that my and that Chicago cyclist’s experience were unfortunate accidents that were just part of life in the big city. There was, however, a flaw in the Chicago path that I’ve noticed on some waterside bike lanes I’ve ridden: It sits several feet lower than the adjacent roadway. Oh, and there’s no barrier between the lane and the water.
A bike lane sandwiched between a major roadway and a tidal waterway—built several feet lower than the roadway, with no barrier between the lane and tides? If I were just a little more paranoid, I’d think that it wasn’t just bad planning and design: I’d believe it was designed to do away with cyclists!
In earlier posts, I've mentioned that Florida, in spite of its climate and many communities with bike lanes, is terrible for bicycling in at least one way. The Sunshine State is beclouded with the distinction of being the deadliest state for cyclists. For about as long as I've been writing this blog, Florida has had the highest death rate for riders, and it's not even close.
More than a few reasons have been posited. One is the state's car-centric culture. Another is that because it's America's leading state for retirees (a.k.a. God's Waiting Room), there are lots of old drivers, some of whom shouldn't be driving anymore. I think that characterization is only somewhat fair: While riding in Florida, I've encountered any number of hot-rodding, or simply careless, young drivers. Again, to be fair, their state doesn't have very stringent requirements for a driver's license.
Whatever the causes, the dangers (and pleasures) encountered by cyclists do not discriminate: Accidents injure the young and the old, the rich and the poor.
And the famous as well as the anonymous.
The latest cycling fatality in Florida was a familiar face for many people. He covered a number of major events, including the September 11 terrorist attacks. For his contributions to CNN's coverage of that event, he won an Emmy. Another highlight of his career, "Escape from Justice," was one of the first exposes of Nazi war criminals living in the USA.
In addition to CNN, he covered the Supreme Court and other legal issues for 22 years at ABC. An attorney by training, he was able to lend depth, as well as explain proceedings, in terms comprehensible to folks like me.
Upon his retirement, he moved to northeastern Florida, near Jacksonville. Like many before him, he relished the chance to spend days following one of his passions: cycling.
My guess is that Tim O'Brien was a careful cyclist and, for a 77-year-old, his reflexes were still good. They weren't enough, however, to avoid the fate that befell him.
According to police, a pickup truck traveling northbound on Route A1A turned left to Mickler Road in Ponte Vedra Beach. The truck collided with a car traveling southbound on A1A.
The force of the crash sent the car ricocheting to the sidewalk--where O'Brien was pedaling.
Both drivers remained at the scene. Police have not said whether either would be charged.
Whatever their fate, it won't change the fact that someone they might've watched on their television screens is the latest cyclist casualty in Florida.
The mayor of my city and the governor of my state raise the possibility of new lockdowns, which would mean "non-essential" businesses would be closed. Government officials in other places are also speaking of such things.
At the same time, they are encouraging people to support small businesses. I wholeheartedly agree, whether that "small business" is a bike shop, book store or beauty salon.
One thing I fear, though, is that this might be the "last chance" for some establishments that barely survived the lockdowns of last spring. Whatever business they do might tide them over for the next couple of weeks, or however long they can operate before they're forced to close.
Another worry is that some customers who resorted to Amazon during the lockdowns won't return to their old shopping habits. They may have been lulled by the convenience of having PlayStations or whatever brought to their doors.
What some small business owners have done, of course, is to start making deliveries. Luca Ambrogio Santini is one of them.
He operates LibriSottoCasa, which he describes as "the smallest bookstore in the world." How small is it? Oh, about the size of one of those boxes that fits on a porteur-style front rack.
Santini once operated one of the best-known independent bookstores in Milan, Italy. That is, until rent and management costs rose too high. So, five years ago, he started to operate without a storefront--and with a delivery bicycle. Customers place orders on his Facebook page, on Whatsapp or via e-mail, and he delivers, mainly in the southern districts of his city.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the pandemic has been good for his business. While he concedes that Amazon and other forms of e-commerce are convenient, he says "the physical presence of the bookseller who can advise and communicate with the customer" is "an added value" that "is disappearing" but "we must not lose."
In addition to being that bookseller we all love, he has another aspiration: "I want to be faster than Amazon."
