Juneteenth Ride And Reflection

Today is Juneteenth, the date in 1865 when slaves on Galveston Island, Texas would become the last to learn they were no longer slaves--at least, not officially.

This morning I took a bike ride out to Fort Totten. I wanted to get some miles in before the heat and rain roll in this afternoon.  Plus, I wanted to do something easy after pedaling to Connecticut yesterday.  My morning ride totaled about 20 miles, which I did on Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear.

Just this week, President Biden signed the bill declaring Juneteenth a Federal holiday, which was observed (and offices were closed) yesterday, as today is Saturday.  That means the holiday will be observed on Friday or Monday next year, as it will fall on Sunday.

From the Detroit MetroTimes

As I rode, I reflected on this date.  In my first paragraph, I said that the slaves were officially free. But just how free are African Americans today. I pondered, for example, whether I would have been taking my ride alone--or at all--were my skin and hair darker.  Given the stories I've heard from friends and acquaintances, and of Ahmaud Arbery,  I have to wonder how many African-Americans or dark-skinned Latinx people--or, in some places, Asians--don't go out for a bike ride, a run, a hike or even a walk because they don't know whether they'll make it back.  That could be one of the reasons why African-Americans of nearly all age, education and income levels have worse health outcomes than even poor white people who didn't finish high school.  (In my home state, the Bronx--which is overwhelmingly nonwhite--ranks last in health outcomes of New York's 62 counties.)

If people don't feel free to leave their homes so they can exercise--or shop, go to a library or museum or attend a concert--just how free are they?

That is why I am glad that President Biden made Juneteenth a holiday.  I am all for commemorating it with bike rides and other events.  I just hope that it doesn't degenerate into another orgy of shopping or other excesses, which too many other holidays that should be serious occasions have become.

R.I.P. Harris Cyclery

Perhaps you've already heard:  Harris Cyclery of West Newton, Massachusetts closed its doors on Sunday, the 13th.  Their online ordering service--which I've used a few times--is also gone.

I stumbled over the bad news when Googling one of Sheldon Brown's tech pages.  He, of course, is how I learned of the shop in the first place--about 40 years ago, if I recall correctly, when I read an article he wrote about wheelbuilding.  At that time, of course, the website didn't exist, but when I got up to Boston, I made a point of visiting the shop.  Alas, he was away.  But I did get to meet him on a subsequent visit.  He was about what you expected if you read any of his writing:  warm, generous with advice and posessed of a quirky sense of humor.  

Sheldon Brown

Those are traits I also encountered in other Harris staffers.  They, and Sheldon, did much to promote everyday as well as recreational cycling in and around Boston.  So did their predecessors at Harris.  They had to:  When the shop first opened its doors 70 years ago (in a different building), it was one of the few anywhere in the US to offer high-quality, high-performance bikes and parts for the few adult everyday cyclists as well as enthusiasts of the time.  In other words, they helped to keep the flame lit during what Sheldon has called the "Dark Ages" of American cycling, which spanned roughly two decades after World War II.

It's always distressing to lose any beloved small business.  What makes the loss of Harris so disturbing, though, is that it shows us no shop may be immune to the vicissitudes of the marketplace. Being a New Yorker, my first thought was, "Their landlord wouldn't renew their lease--or wanted to increase the rent by an outrageous amount."  From what information I've gleaned, however, it seems that Harris got caught in the vortex that sucked in many other shops during the past few months:  After a COVID-fueled "boom" in sales, their showroom was bare.  They were able to keep themselves going with repair work--until they couldn't get any more parts, due to disrupted supply chains.  Customers, naturally, don't want to wait months for a new bike, much less a repair or tuneup--or to buy a helmet, lock or light.  

My biggest concern, though, is Sheldon's pages.  In addition to containing more useful information and insights--and well-informed, if at times cranky, opinions-- than just about any other site or guide, it's a continuation of his legacy, a dozen years after his passing.  I hope we don't lose those pages along with the shop!

She’s A Champion. Sign Me Up!

 Molly Cameron has become one of my heroes.  Her decades as a cyclo-cross racer and in the bicycle industry has given her a platform—which she isn’t shy about using—to advocate for gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights.

In April, she announced that she won’t be going to a CX World Cup event in October or the 2022 World Championships if, as currently scheduled, they’re held in Arkansas. “I won’t be spending any money in Arkansas or any other state that is passing laws to discriminate against the LGBT community,” she said.

Now she’s going even further:  She’s opened a GoFundMe page to raise money for her advocacy work as she launches a national organization for LGBTQ+ representation in the bicycle industry and sport.

Sign me up!

A Juneteenth Freedom Ride In Bronzeville

Lately, there's been much talk about things returning to "normal" or becoming a "new normal" as pandemic-induced restrictions are eased or lifted.

Some aspects of the "new normal" will be welcome.  One, I hope, will be a ride Jason Easterly and Mike Allan took last year and are repeating this year.

Jason Easterly. Photo by Ariel Uribe, from the Chicago Tribune

Easterly is, among other things, a spin class instructor.  Allan was one of his students.  Last spring, when gyms were ordered to close, Easterly took his classes online.  Allan continued his participation.

In the days after a Minneapolis police officer murdered George Floyd, in the words of Easterly, "we were living in a powder keg." People were "sitting in lockdown, not able to get out" as "our loved ones" were dying.

Allan suggested a bike ride--in person, through Bronzeville, the Chicago neighborhood where he and Easterly live.  They would invite a friends.  A 15-mile route was planned, as was the date:  19 June a.k.a Juneteenth.

They decided to call it the "Freedom Ride," in commemoration on the date in 1865 when Union General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston to inform enslaved Americans that they were free.  At that time, Texas was the frontier:  There were really no major cities between St. Louis and San Francisco.  The Lone Star State was the last bastion of slavery, as it was the Confederate state farthest from Washington DC.

So the slaves of Texas, the last to be liberated, learned of their freedom some two months after the Civil War ended and two years after Lincoln declared the Emancipation Proclamation.

Apparently, a lot of people in Chicago (and other places) wanted to be liberated from lockdown.  About  200 showed up for that ride.

It will be reprised this Saturday, the 19th.  Riders will meet at noon Wintrust Arena, 200 East Cermak Road, and pedal to Bronzeville and then into downtown.  

Perhaps the “Juneteenth Freedom Ride” will become an annual event—and part of “the new normal.” 

And The Point Of This Is....?

Fifty Shades of Grey showed us that there's no book so ridiculous and poorly-written that people won't read it.*

The past few years have shown us that there's no candidate so ignorant, petty, vulgar and just plain mean that people won't vote for him/her. 

And there are some ideas so impractical and pointless that some tech person with too much time on his hands won't work on it:

Zhihui Jun, a Huawei engineer, got the idea for the riderless bike when he was recuperating from injuries sustained in a bicycle accident.  Hmm....That sounds like designing a shoe that walks itself while waiting for your sprained ankle to heal.   

Anyway, I must pay all due respect for his talents as an engineer (He must be better at math than I could ever dream of being!) and, I suppose, his imagination.  Maybe it was a "just for fun" project.  After all, what is a bicycle without a rider?

Again, with all due respect to Mr. Jun, he isn't the first to come up with the idea.  This was spotted on an Amsterdam Street a few years ago:

I ask:  Why?

*--Aside from lines like, "I must be the color of the communist manifesto" and the number of times the author uses words like "oozes" and phrases like "my inner goddess," the book is objectionable because its depictions of BDSM are BS.   Don't ask how I know! ;-)

I Made It Home This Time

 I finished my ride yesterday.

Normally, that would hardly be worth mentioning, especially since it's one I've done many times before:  to Greenwich, Connecticut and back.

Yesterday, however, marked one year since the crash that ended the life of Arielle, my Mercian Audax Special.  It was my first Mercian, so the loss was all the more painful.

Yesterday, I mostly retraced the route I took one year earlier. I must admit that I slowed down a bit more than I needed to, and was especially wary, when I made the turn onto Bonnefoy Avenue in New Rochelle.  That is where I crashed:  about 30 kilometers from home. Instead of home, I spent the rest of that weekend in Montefiore-New Rochelle's emergency room and Westchester Medical Center's trauma unit.

I was transferred to the latter facility because of the the impact to my face and head.  There was "slight" bleeding around my brain, but that healed relatively quickly.  After a month, I was back to riding more or less the way I was before.

 

Ironically, the "dooring" incident I suffered late in October kept me off my bike for longer, and led to a slower recovery, but the accident in New Rochelle had the potential to be more serious.  Once the bleeding around my brain subsided and there were no signs of a concussion, I was able to ride without pain:  the wounds to my face, while they required stitches, looked worse than they actually were.  On the other hand, after the "dooring," I suffered deep lacerations and injuries to my right thigh muscles and knee.  

I didn't finish that ride, either.  But I made it home yesterday, from Connecticut--and made myself a sumptuous dinner of cavatelli with broccoli rabe and fresh mozzerella, and a dessert of a fresh peach and cherries.

Does Size Matter?

As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I've ridden tandems only twice in my life.  I wouldn't mind riding one again, especially if it's a high-quality machine.

Or one like this:

After all, Jan Heine claims that larger-diameter wheels don't make you go faster! 

Bilenky Diplomacy

Boris Johnson has been called the "British Trump."

The moniker is accurate in some ways:  As Prime Minister, he has encouraged and implemented a kind of right-wing nationalism that appeals to English people who feel they've been left behind, and condescended to, by globalists, even if his ideologies and policies have pushed them further behind and favors the wealthy.

There are differences, though, between him and El Cheeto Grande.  While Johnson is an outsized media presence, he never could match Trump's narcisisstic ubiquity (or is it ubiquitous narcissism?).  And Johnson has not only encouraged, but participates in, something Trump discourages and has mocked others for.

I am talking, of course, about cycling.  When he was Mayor of London, he was often seen pedaling along that city's streets.  And, in January, he was criticized for traveling a few miles from 10 Downing Street for a bike ride while the rest of his country was under lockdown.

As it turns out, his cycling gives him common ground with the current US President, Joe Biden.  (I also suspect that they have more in common than they, or most people, realize.)  So, when Biden went to the G7 Summit meeting in Cornwall, England, he wanted to present the Prime Minister with a gift of--you guessed it--a bicycle.

So the State Department sent an urgent message to Stephen Bilenky in Philadelphia. He builds about 75 bikes a year, and most customers wait anywhere from six to eighteeen months for their orders.  The message exhorted him to build a bike in two weeks.

Oh, and State stipulated that the bike should have as many US-made components as possible--and cost less than $1500.  A typical Bilenky costs around $4500.

Mr. Bilenky rose to the challenge.  "It was a crazy 10 days," he said, but they got it done.  The frame, made from Columbus steel, is painted blue with red and white decorations to evoke the Union Jack--which adorns the frame, along with the Stars and Stripes and signatures of both men.

As for the components, the hubs, cranks and headset come from White Industries of California.  Also from the Golden State is the Selle Anatomica saddle.  Other parts, while not made stateside, came from US-based companies.  They include the SRAM derailleurs and levers, and Velocity  rims.

However Biden's and Johnson's relationship develops, it looks like our President is at least setting the wheels in motion (sorry, couldn't resist) toward something saner than we saw from Mango Mussolini.

(Photos by Daniel Kilkelly, from Painted Dog Media)

3500

Last week, this blog marked one milestone:  11 years.

Today's post is another:  Number 3500.

When I started this blog, I had no idea of how long, or how many posts, it would run.  I knew only that I wanted to call it "Midlife Cycling" for all of its life.  As a wise person once told me, as long as you don't know when your life will end, you're in the middle of it.  I'd say the same for this blog, or any other endeavor:  You can't define a mid-point without knowing the end-point.

Luang Prbang, 22 July 2018

When I first posted, I had just started riding again after recovering from my gender-affirmation surgery.  Since then, my life--and the cycling scene--has changed in all kinds of ways.  I can recall when chances were that I knew any cyclist I encountered during my ride; now I see all kinds of new faces--and bodies--and, of course, bikes--whether I'm spinning down my street or rolling along a suburban or country road, whether a county or an ocean away from my home.

Once again, I thank all of you, whether you've followed this blog from its beginnings, or you've found it for the first time in a Google search about Shimano DX or cycling in New York or France.

In Michigan: A Ride To Reconnect And Remember

 In many places, COVID-19 restrictions are loosening or being abolished altogether.  This has resulted in a number of “firsts “:  People are going places and doing things they haven’t seen or done in more than a year.  Last night, I had my first sit-down dinner in a restaurant since the pandemic began.  A friend treated me for helping her to buy, and fix, her bike.

Speaking of which: Club and other group rides are reconvening. For most cyclists, such rides are a time of joy, or at least relief.

They and other “firsts” can, however, be tinged with sadness and grief.  A favorite cafe may have closed or a chef or server might be gone. So might some riding buddies.

Photo by Trace Christensen, from the Battle Creek Enquirer 

Such was the case for a group of Michigan cyclists who rode together on Tuesday evening.  As they embarked from Mike’s Team Active Bikes in Battle Creek, owner Mike Wood, who rode with them, reminded everyone of five riders who were not with them.

From left: Melissa Ann Fevig Hughes, Suzanne Sippel, Debbie Bradley, Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik

On that day five years earlier, Debbie Bradley, Suzanne Joan Sippel, Lorenz John (Larry) Pauli’s, Fred Anton (Tony) Nelson and Melissa Ann Fevig Hughes were mowed down by an impaired driver in a pickup truck.  Four other cyclists who accompanied them survived the experience, but are still dealing with the physical and emotional trauma that resulted.

As with many other “firsts,” Tuesday’s ride in Battle Creek was a time to reconnect—and reflect.