R.I.P. Helmut Jahn

He once remarked that one of his creations made his reputation throughout the world but killed it in Chicago.

Bicycling gave him a long, healthy life, but two cars killed him about 100 kilometers west of the Windy City.

The creation in question is the Thomposon Building, nee the State of Illinois Center, designed by architecht Helmut Jahn.

That building, and 55 West Monroe (originally known as the Xerox Center), the Chicago Board of Trade and the United Airlines Terminal at O'Hare International Airport, are among the most iconic structures in Chicago's distinctive profile. Jahn created the Art Deco Revival addition to the Board of Trade, and conceived and designed the others.

His quip about how he's regarded is a result of the Thompson Building's history.  Like too many high-rise structures, like the Empire State Building and the World Trade Center (Twin Towers) in my hometown, it has been a "white elephant" that bled barrels of cash.  (ESB, finished just as the world was about to plunge into the worst economic depression of the past century, didn't break even until 25 years after it opened; the Twin Towers were in the red from the day they opened until the day they fell.)  Last week, the State of Illinois began accepting bids for the Thompson's sale.

Of course, the edifice's financial woes are not Jahn's fault.  I hope the same can be said for the crash that ended his life.  According to a police report and witnesses, he didn't stop at a stop sign and proceded through an intersection in St. Charles.  There, a Chevrolet Trailblazer SUV traveling southeast knocked him into the northwest lane, where a Hyundai Sonata going in the opposite driection from the Trailblazer struck him.

Now, not having seen a video of the incident, or the incident itself, it's hard to know whom or what, if anyone or anything, to blame.  Did Jahn not see the Stop sign?  Did he not see the vehicles until it was too late?  Perhaps he misjudged their speed and figured he had enough time to cross?  Or were the drivers of either or both of the vehicles speeding or driving distractedly?

Whatever the answers to these questions, losing anyone in what must have been a gruesome collision is bad enough.  And, just as the world renowned Helmut Jahn as an architecht, it--we--will mourn his loss.

For Moms And Kids Who Ride

During the past year, I've seen more people on bikes than I've ever seen before.  Not only is the number of bikes a departure from times past:  People I never expected to see on bikes are riding, and riding in ways I rarely saw before the pandemic.

Those new riders include many women riding with children in carriers, towed in trailers or pedaling smaller bikes behind them.  This post is dedicated to those women and children who are bonding over bikes.

From Have Fun Biking

Happy Mothers' Day!

From Scoperta Creations

Would You Live On A Street That's A Singletrack?

 Some neighborhoods' and towns' street names have themes.  For example, when I pedal to Point Lookout, after traversing the Atlantic Beach Bridge, I cross a series of streets named for New York State counties.  Other communities have streets named after flowers or trees--or the children of the developers.  Then there are the "gem" streets of "The Hole."

Well, in Colorado there's a town called Fruita.  You might expect the streets to be named after strawberries or blueberries or cherries or other delectables.  But, being near Grand Junction, it's adjacent to some of the most renowned mountain biking in the world.  So, the builders of a new development paid homage--by building their new homes on Singletrack Street, Pivot Street and Yeti Street.  

Photo by Mattias Fredericksson

Executives of Yeti and Pivot bicycles deny that they had anything to do with naming the streets, but are nonetheless delighted.  It's "better than a star on Hollywood Boulevard," said Chris Conroy, the president of Yeti, which is based in nearby Golden.  Chris Cocalis, the CEO of Pivot, called the naming "a complete and awesome surprise."  

The town sounds like a nice place to go if you get tired of city life.  But I have to ask:  If the developers refused to sell their houses to road bikers, would that be a violation of Federal fair housing regulations?

What It Is, Or What Is It?

Joe Biden may not have the oratorical flair of Obama or JFK.  On the other hand, he also doesn't have his predecessor's predilection for ignorance, mendacity and just plain meanness.  And he never could have, even if he wanted to, come up with this:  "It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is."

That last statement came from Bill Clinton when asked about his claim, "There is no improper relationship" with Monica Lewinsky.  Only a lawyer--which Clinton was--could ever come up with something like that.

With all due respect , I have to give him credit for understanding, even better than most other lawyers, just how much can hinge on the definition of a word.  A law can be interpreted in an entirely different way from how its framers intended because of the way even a single word, let alone phrase or passage, is understood.

(That, by the way, is why I think it's folly to try to live by literal readings of any text, whether it's a holy book, an epic poem, a country's founding document  or a novel.)

So I appreciate just how much effort it takes to write a law or policy that will have its intended effect.  When it comes to laws related to cycling, a question that needs to be answered is this:  What, exactly, is a bicycle?

Photo by Josie Norris, San Antonio Express-News

Claudia Ordaz Perez, a Democrat who represents El Paso in the Texas State Legislature has tried to come up with an answer.  She drafted HB3665, an attempt to clean up the Texas Transportation Code, in which a bicycle is seen as any two-wheeled contraption that can be ridden but isn't a moped. In her re-definition, a bicycle is any human-powered vehicle with two or more wheels, one of which is at least 14 inches in diameter. It also includes a clause that specifically includes mopeds.

The good news about that revision is that by saying "two or more" instead of just "two" wheels, adult tricycles are included.  And "human-powered" includes the hand-cranked bikes some disabled people ride.  

That definition, however, can also include bicycles that have gas or electric motors that assist with pedaling--or that run the bike after the rider pedals to start it! While I have nothing against such bikes, I think they should not be in the same bike lane--especially if it's as narrow as the one on the Ed Koch/Queensborough Bridge--as bikes propelled only by the rider's muscle power.

In yesterday's post, and others, I said that bike lanes and other infrastructure are useless and even dangerous--and laws related to cycling can cause more harm to everyone--if they're conceived and executed by people who don't understand cycling.  I also think that those who write the laws or design the bike lanes need to know what a bike is.

Must More Riding Mean More Fatalities?

In a coincidence that, perhaps, isn't such a coincidence, I chanced upon an item about an increase in the number of cyclists killed on Texas roads at the same time a local radio news program mentioned that pedestrian fatalities here in New York City have increased during the past year.

I have also seen and heard reports of increases in the number of cyclists killed and injured on New York City streets.  So, hearing about pedestrian fatalities here and cyclists killed in the Lone Star State did not surprise me because cyclist and pedestrian casualties tend to rise or fall in tandem.

The reports point to a dramatic increase in the number of cyclists as a reason for more crashes and fatalities.  The same isn't said for pedestrians, though I have seen more people walking around as pandemic-induced restrictions are eased or lifted.  But I think that there is a related, and more relevant, reason for the increase in deaths and injuries among cyclists and pedestrians.

During the first few months of the pandemic, there was little traffic on the roads.  I can recall riding to Connecticut and back last spring and being able to count, on both hands, the number of motorized vehicles I saw along the way, not counting the ones that crossed the RFK Memorial Bridge.  Until last spring, I never could have imagined such an occurence on a 140 kilometer road ride that takes me through the Bronx and Westchester County before crossing the state line.

As spring turned into summer, traffic was still light, but I noticed faster and more aggressive driving, including some drag racing and other flouting of traffic laws.  Those things were annoying, but I didn't feel I was in danger because the still-light traffic afforded a wide berth between me and the drivers.

During the past few months, though, I've seen more traffic.  Some people, I guess, are returning to their workplaces and old routines, while others started driving and bought cars (for the first time, in some instances) because they didn't want to use mass transit.

But the folks who got used to driving fast and aggressively, or even carelessly, aren't adjusting to the new reality.  They still want to drive as if they have the streets to themselves.  And, in my own unscientific observation, it seems that police aren't enforcing traffic laws as much as they were before the pandemic--if, indeed, they were enforcing them against any but the lowest-hanging fruit (i.e., cyclists and pedestrians).

Having done a fair amount of cycling in other cities, states and countries, I can make this observation:  Building bike lanes and lecturing cyclists about safety--which most of us practice to the best degree we can--does little to prevent tragic encounters between motorists and cyclists and pedestrians.  

What will  make life better for everyone involved are sensible laws and policies (like the Idaho Stop) crafted by people who understand what it's like to ride a city's streets--and a culture rather than a mere lifestyle of cycling.  The culture of which I speak is one in which cycling is seen as a viable mode of transportation rather than just a form of recreation for privileged young people. Such a culture exists in some European countries; that is why there is more respect between drivers and cyclists and pedestrians.

Otherwise, cities and other jurisdictions can continue to build poorly-designed and constructed bike lanes that lead from nowhere to nowhere, and cyclists--or pedestrians or motorists--won't be any safer.

Cinco De Biko

This should have been on a Grateful Dead album cover.

Perhaps it would have been, had Jose Pulido drawn it about 40 years earlier.  It was part of a post about the "Cinco de Biko" post on Roof Pig!, a seemingly-dormant blog.

The image seems more appropriate to Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), but it somehow seems fitting for a ride on this day, Cinco de Mayo.  

Enjoy your "Cinco de Biko," whatever it is!

Integration Is Great When It Fits

 Hal Ruzal, the recently-retired mechanic and partner of Bicycle Habitat, and I were talking one day about rides, bikes, music and work.  I've always admired Mercians, but I finally ordered my first after taking a spin on one of his.  His other bikes, with one exception (an early Cannondale mountain bike) were also built around steel frames, with various combinations of modern and old-school components.   So it won't surprise you that we have similar attitudes about bikes and equipment:  While most of our preferences run to old-school bikes and parts, or stuff inspired by them, we don't fetishize "vintage" items.  At the same time, we don't prize technology for the sake of technology.

He sighed about "the Wall Street guys" who came into the shop and wanted the most expensive bike. "They thought that's what they needed to get up the next hill," he mused.  What they really needed, he said, was to spend more time riding.

As often as not, they insisted on buying bikes that were not only "more bike than they needed" but that didn't--or, in some case, couldn't be made to--fit them well.  

I thought about that conversation a few months ago, after encountering a guy who wiped out on an L-shaped turn with a sandtrap.  Bleeding from his arms and legs, his first concerns were his $12,000 bike and $200 saddle--and the $300 helmet he wasn't even wearing.

I couldn't help but to think that guy probably hadn't ridden long or far.  He may not have been, in fact,  one of the "Wall Street guys" Hal was talking about,  but he shared at least part of their mentality:  He seemed to think that buying the "best" (read: most expensive) stuff would make him a better cyclist.

It occurs to me now that the bike may not even have fit him well.  That is a common occurence--by whatever ideas about bike fit you subscribe to--more often than one might expect among customers of ultra-high-end bikes. Dave Farmer, owner of Surrey Cycle Works (in Leatherhead, England) says as much.  "People can now buy 6000, 7000 or 8000 pound bikes online."  As a result, he says, many people are "riding around on very high-end bikes that don't fit them."

One problem is that many of those "very high-end" bikes have "integrated" cockpits.  They're great if speed is your primary goal--and if they fit you.

Most people buy bikes--in whatever price range--buy complete bikes.  Folks like me who buy frames and build them are actually a tiny fragment of the market, even at the highest price ranges.  The problem with complete bikes, at any price, is that they are designed for an "average" person--usually male--of a given height.  

Anyone who's ever measured me for a bike, or helped me to make an adjustment has commented on my legs:  They are long for a person of my height.  So the "square"geometry of many stock frames--on which the seat and top tube are the same length--doesn't work well for me, unless I use a stem with a very short horizontal extension.  Likewise, the "sloping" geometry of many modern frames is less than ideal for me.  

Other people, of course, differ from norms in other ways:  short people with wide shoulders, for example.  Then there is the matter of preferences:  You might prefer a different saddle position from someone else, depending on your riding style.

Integration of cockpits means that, on some bikes, handlebars, stems and seatpost can't be swapped out--or making such changes is very expensive.  If the bike has a standard-diameter steer tube, changing the stem isn't a problem--unless, of course, it's of one piece with the handlebars.  So, if you like the width or shape or your bars, you have to find another set that fits your bike.  And on some bikes, once your seat height is set, it can't be changed.

Oh, and don't get me started on internal cable routing:  I still have nightmares about my bikes that had this feature.  I'm glad that I've never had to change a cable that's routed through the headset--or, worse, had to clean or replace such a headset.

Don't get me wrong:  I see the benefits of integration, at least for some riders.  Turning two pieces into one--like the bars and stem--makes them more aerodynamic, stiffer and stronger.  (Remember the "bull moose" bars on early mountain bikes?) That strength makes it possible to use lighter materials which, of course, helps to lighten the bike.

The thing is, most of the benefits of integrated cockpits (and aerodynamic parts) accrue only if you're riding at the speeds, and for the amount of time, pro riders spend on their saddles.  Otherwise, you have to choose between compromising comfort and convenience, or spending large sums of money for replacement parts--and bike shop labor, if you don't do the work yourself.

So, before spending $12,000 on a bike and, potentially, another $2000 to make it fit, ask yourself how much, or whether, you'll benefit--or whether you're trying to impress somebody.

Wednesday's Ride, On Sunday

Yesterday I took another ride to Point Lookout.  It was, in some ways, what last Wednesday's ride would have been had I taken it on Sunday.  

I don't mean to echo Macbeth's "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow."  The coastal jaunt was entirely pleasant:  Clear skies and calm seas formed a peaceful tableau, and the air was warm--that is, until I crossed the Veterans' Memorial Bridge, from a 28C air temperature to breezes from 9C water. So, while the temperature almost certainly dropped as I came to the ocean, it felt even chillier with the breeze--and my apparel (shorts and short sleeves).  

What was different were the throngs of people lining the Rockaway and Long Beach boardwalks.  I shouldn't have been surprised by that: Even with the chilly breeze, it was the warmest Sunday we've had this year, so far. 

Another thing that shouldn't have surprised me, I suppose, is that few people wore masks.  I know the CDC said that it's OK to go unmasked if you're outdoors and keeping the 3meter/6 foot social distance from strangers--which, of course, it's all but impossible not to do on a bicycle.  

Those recommendations are for people who have been vaccinated.  I got my second dose on the 13th, so according to the guidelines, I'm fully vaccinated.  I had to wonder, though, how many of the people I saw were vaccinated.

Still, though, it was a fine ride.  I did the Point Lookout ride for the opportunity to "let loose" on the long flat stretches--and to try something out that I'll write about later.

How Big Are Your Wheels?

Late in the 19th Century, the high-wheeler ("penny farthing") gave way to the safety bicycle, with two wheels of more or less equal size propelled by a chain-and-gear drive.  That, of course, is what nearly all of us ride today.

But the debate about smaller- vs. larger-diameter wheels rages on, with no sign that it will end.

May Day For Today's Workers

Today is May Day.

This day was, and continues to be, a celebration of Spring, especially in northern European cultures.  Some believe it's rooted in a Roman festival for Flora, the goddess of flowers.  

To this day, throughout Italy, Calendimaggio is celebrated with performances, rituals and gifts that are believed to have their roots in Roman celebratory customs.  And, in France, individuals and workers' are allowed to sell lily of the valley flowers--which Charles IX received as a lucky charm and he, in turn, offered every year to the ladies of the court--tax-free. Perhaps the most elaborate celebrations of this day are found in England and Scotland, where children still perform Maypole dances, a "May Queen" is crowned and traditional poems are recited and songs sung.

In 1889, this day became International Workers' Day, celebrated in some countries as Labor Day.  This date was chosen for its proximity to the anniversary of the Haymarket Massacre, in which a Chicago labor protest rally turned into a riot.   The protestors were calling for, among other things, an eight-hour workday. 

The protestors, and those on whose behalf they were protesting, were mainly blue-collar workers:  factory laborers, longshoremen, construction workers and the like.  Many of those workers--and demonstrators--were immigrants.

Most of those jobs have since disappeared.  And the, ahem, complexions of the immigrants have changed*.  So the sorts of people who would have been working in the factories and on the docks are now making deliveries, whether of building materials on Amazon vans, dinner via electric bikes or documents from a Wall Street brokerage to a midtown legal firm via bicycle.  Dmitry Bondrenko seemed to understand as much when he created this poster:

The "alley cat" race announced in the poster was a benefit for Emily Glos, a Toronto bike messenger who was struck by a car. She survived, but a broken wrist and elbow kept her off her bike, and from making a living, for two months.

*-I recently learned that when Franklin D. Roosevelt signed the first minimum-wage legislation into law, he got Southern Democrats--at that time, the largest bloc in the party--to agree to it by excluding farm and domestic workers--who, in the South, were mainly black. Also, that exclusion garnered support from the large corporate growers in places like California's Central Valley, where most workers were Mexican migrants.

I also learned, not too long ago, that the roots of South Africa's Aprartheid laws were sown by the gold and mining industries, and were designed, in part, that workers in those industries--most of whom were Black--would be virtual slaves.