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.
We all have people in our lives--friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, spouses, co-workers and others--who simply cannot understand why we ride our bikes instead of driving (or taking a train or plane!) to some place or another. They have probably called us worse than this:
We, however, know why we ride. That's why, if they looked at us closely, they would find none of the signs of mental disorder. Instead, they are more likely to see this:
I'll take credit--but not blame. No, I'm not channeling El Cheeto Grande. Rather, I am here now to tell you that a line I tossed off in an earlier post has become a reality--better (or worse) yet, a business plan. Last year I wrote about the then-new dockless bike share programs making their debut in China. They have since appeared in European and North American locales: In fact, there's talk of bringing such services to the Bronx and other parts of New York City not presently served by Citibike. I called those dockless programs, which allow anyone with the company's app on his or her smart phone to pick up or leave a bicycle, "Uber for bicycles." Now--you guessed it--Uber is getting into the bike share business. I am not surprised, really: If the future is in driverless cars (the Force forbid!) or fewer or no cars, it makes perfect sense for the company to look at other forms of transportation.
Uber is doing something to many other companies failed to do: look at the industry, not the business, of which they are a part. Some business writer, I forget whom, said the real reason why the New York Central and Pennsylvania Railroads--at their peak, the world's two largest corporations-- are in the dustbin of history (Funny, isn't it, to quote Marx when talking about business?) is that they didn't realize that they were not just in the railroad business--which was dying in the US--but in the transportation industry. So, by the time they merged, it was too late to save either of them. One of the better analogies I can think of in the bicycle world is Schwinn. They failed to see their role in the bicycle industry, which changed dramatically. That is why the company started by Ignaz Schwinn in the 1890s didn't start making (or even offering) BMX or mountain bikes until other bike makers, some of them newcomers, had already taken hold of those markets. The company's management seemed to think that its industry consisted of making and selling people the bikes their parents and grandparents bought--the only difference being that it added derailleurs and skinnier tires to the two-wheeled tanks they'd been making. Which reminds me: For all of the Varsities and Continentals they sold during the '70's Bike Boom, they really missed the boat when, a couple of years in, college students and other young adults started to demand lighter bikes, like the ones offered by European and Japanese makers. At that time, the only really lightweight bicycles Schwinn offered were the Paramount and, depending on how you define "lightweight", the Sports Tourer. The former was beyond the means of most young people, while the latter was indistinguishable, appearance-wise, from the company's flash-welded bikes.By the time Schwinn started to offer the Japanese-made LeTour and Voyageur, in 1974, the Bike Boom had already crested and people who wanted lighter bikes had already bought Nishikis, Fujis, Motobecanes and Raleighs. Anyway, it seems like Uber is not falling into the same trap as Schwinn or the railroads. They are debuting their new share program in Berlin, Germany and, I am sure, will expand into other places. With the popularity of dockless share programs and the company's name recognition, it seems like Uber has an unbeatable combination--for now. It'd be nice if they give me credit, though--although it would be nice to be compensated at least as well as someone who created one of the world's most recognized logos.
Two years ago this week, Charles Pickett Jr. mowed down five cyclists and severely injured four others in one of the most horrific car-on-bike crashes I've heard of.
Yesterday, a monument those cyclists--part of "The Chain Gang", a group that met every week for a ride--was unveiled in Cooper Township's Markin Glen Park, near the site of the Kalamazoo (Michigan) tragedy. The four survivors--Paul Gobble, Sheila Jeske, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Runnels--attended along with others. The five front seats were left empty to honor Debra Ann ("Debbie") Bradley, Melissa Ann Fevig-Hughes, Fred Anton ("Tony") Nelson, Lorenz John ("Larry") Paulik and Suzanne Joan Sippel. Local artist Joshua Diedrich designed the monument. The sculpture's sloped curve shape represents the hill on North Westnedge Avenue, where the cyclists were riding at that fateful moment, he explained. That curve consists of four panels, two telling the story of the crash and the other two listing the names of the killed and injured cyclists. The monument is topped by five bicycles, one for each cyclist whose lives ended on that evening ride two years ago.
Survivors (l to r) Sheila Jeske, Paul Runnels, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Gobble in front of the monument.
After the ceremony, Chain Gang members and other cyclists rode 25 miles to raise funds for maintenance of the memorial and bicycle advocacy in Michigan. A reception followed the ride. Last month, Pickett was convicted of five counts of murder, five counts of driving while intoxicated and four counts causing serious injury by driving while intoxicated. Sentencing is scheduled for Monday the 11th.
Yesterday was unseasonably cool. I didn't mind: it was good riding weather. At times, though, it seemed as if the snow was covered with snow rather than clouds.
Under the blanket, but still cool all the way from the Rockaways to Coney Island. Another way the day belied the season was the nearly complete absence of people on the boardwalks.
Even the bay, where I normally see at least a few boats, was abandoned. Or, to look at it another way, I had everything else to myself. I enjoyed it.
I suppose most of us want to be immortalized. The problem is that, if we are, we probably don't have a say in why or how someone is perpetuating our memory. So it is with the newest Trek model. Now, I could understand why the company wouldn't name any of its products after Lance. Yes, he's alive, but as we know, there are other reasons why a "Lance-strong" bike would be a public relations fiasco for the company. I also see why they wouldn't want to name their bikes after any number of other cyclists--or celebrities-- living or dead. On the other hand, I can understand why Trek, or any other company, would name one of its wares after someone who never got anywhere near a bicycle. I mean, there was even a whole bike brand--Hercules--named for a mythological hero. The last person who actually believed in his existence died, probably, about two milennia before the first bicycle--however you define it--saw the light of day. Some Trek marketing genius probably figured that if bikes called Hercules could evoke images of that character's strength and fortitude, then a line of its bikes could surely trade on some other famous person's most notable physical trait--one that essentially became his metier.
And so we have Trek "Farley" bikes, named for the late comedian and actor Chris Farley. His stock-in-trade was "fat guy" humor, which is not surprising given that he weighed about 400 pounds when he died in 1997. Trek's new machines are--you guessed it--"fat" (i.e., fat-tire) bikes. Not surprisingly, his family is not happy about this. They're not upset that he's still known as "the fat guy"--that will most likely remain his claim to fame--but that the company "misappropriated" his image. According to a lawsuit the family filed, even though he turned his girth into his art, if you will, he "carefully guarded and policed his brand" and often rejected overtures from companies whom wanted to use it to sell their products. Now, Trek might not be Apple or Microsoft, but I imagine they can hire some high-priced lawyers. I am guessing they did: Who else could challenge the lawsuit because it was filed in California, where Make Him Smile, the company his family formed to protect his rights and images is based. That would subject the claim to California law. Trek is trying to invalidate the family's claim by saying that it's invalid because Farley was a resident of Illinois, where he died of a drug overdose in Chicago. An irony of this case is that Trek could have named bikes after Farley for another, and possibly better (public-relations wise, anyway) reason: He was born and raised in Madison, Wisconsin--about 30 miles from Trek's headquarters in The Badger State. Hmm...What if Trek decided to name its bikes for famous people from Wisconsin? What would the Rod Blagojevich bike look like?
My high school had a vocational-technical ("vo-tech") program that trained students to work as auto mechanics, beauticians and as other skilled trades- and craft-people.
That high school served a fairly large township that included everything from mansions with Cadillacs in their driveways (In those days, you had as much of a chance, on any given day, of seeing a BMW or Mercedes as you did of meeting a member of the Royal Family.) to storm-battered bungalows with tousled kids tumbling on bristly lawns. What they had in common was aspiration, whether from the parents or the kids themselves.
Such aspiration wasn't limited to economic mobility: People wanted to increase their status and reputation. A decal from a prestigious college or university on the rear window of a family's car meant that the parents "did something right" in raising their child; dirty hands and clothes meant that the kid didn't work hard--or simply wasn't smart--enough and were seen as signs of poor parenting.
So, the success of my high school, and many others, was measured by the percentage of our graduates who went to college--never mind that the kids who became auto mechanics or plumbers or beauticians could make as much money as those who became educated professionals. Training for one of those trades was seen as the "loser track", in contrast to "the college track" and other more prestigious paths in the school.
Because such scenarios played out all over the US, many high schools ended their vo-tech programs and new schools opened without them. Young people and their families continued to equate success with graduating from college and entering white-collar professions. In the meantime, auto mechanics, beauticians and the like got older and employers had a hard time finding replacements, just as those jobs became more technically sophisticated.
Then college tuitions started to rise at a much faster rate than prices in general. (My salary hasn't kept pace--it's not even close!) And companies figured out that their office work could be automated or relocated just as easily as assembly-line jobs. So, the college degree that costs so much more than it once did is no longer the ticket to a "good" job and middle-class life it once was.
Also, because people had a harder time getting good jobs, they started fixing stuff--including cars and appliances-- they would have tossed or replaced earlier. Now, as a result, some young people and their families are starting to realize that their may well be more of a future--especially for a kid who doesn't like to sit still and read--in the kinds of work people in my generation were taught to disdain.
Another result of what I've described is that people are riding bikes to work and school. Those bikes need to be kept running, and not everyone has the time or inclination to adjust their brakes or shifters, or fix their flats. At the same time, bikes are getting more technically sophisticated. This means mechanics, who are increasingly referred to as "technicians" will need to be more skilled.
As a bike shop owner, Berri Michel is certainly aware of what I'm saying. She had trouble finding good employees for Bicycle Trip, her Santa Cruz, California shop. So she did what any desperate employer might do: She trained people. Specifically, she showed high-school students how to fix bikes. That was back in 2007.
That was the beginning of Project Bike Tech, in which students earn academic credit for learning how to repair bicycles. Since then, it has expanded to other schools in California and three other schools in Colorado and Minnesota plan to start similar programs soon. The scope of the course, which spans four semesters, has also grown. Now students learn interviewing, resume-writing and team-building techniques in addition to adjusting headsets and truing wheels.
Ms. Michel says that in the class, students are introduced to other bicycle-industry careers such as fabrication, marketing, sales and graphic design. And, because students don't sacrifice their academic training to learn the bike trade, they are also ready to go to college or enter other careers when they graduate. Some even pursue other trade careers like construction and auto mechanics because "they discover that they love working with their hands," says Project Bike Tech director Mercedes Ross.
Could the day come when parents proudly announce, "There's a bike mechanic in the family!"
Call me a conspiracy theorist, but I believe that the first major work of American fiction in the new millennium was The 9/11 Commission Report. If that is the case, then the last major work of American fiction of the previous century may well be It's Not About The Bike. And another major work of American fiction from this millenium may well be Positively False. Matt Hart did not echo my opinion about The 9/11 Commission Report in his Atlantic Monthlyarticle last month. He did, however, say that INATB and PF are narratives that "now read more like fiction" than the autobiographical narratives they purported to be. Now, I'll make a confession: I was a Lance fanboy/fangirl (I underwent my transition during the time Lance was racing.) almost until the time Oprah interviewed him. At least, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because--call me naive--I still adhere to the principle of "innocent until proven guilty." Though the rumors echoed everywhere (or so it seemed), he had not failed any drug tests--or, if he did, the results hadn't been made public. I started to entertain doubts about him a couple months before the interview, when the US Anti-Doping Agency released its report. Even then, I took the stories about Lance's doping with a grain of salt because many of the accusations came from his rivals, including Tyler Hamilton and, yes, Landis.
Armstrong and Landis in the 2004 Tour de France.
Reading Hart's article didn't change my opinion about any of those riders, the USADA's report or the whole sad story. If anything, it re-enforced something I already believed: that Tour de France, UCI and other officials looked the other way while those riders were doping, much as Major League Baseball did when bulked-up players like Mark McGwire and Barry Bonds shattered home run records. In 1998, MLB was in a very similar position to that of professional bicycle racing: Both were trying to recover from public relations fiascos. The Festina team was expelled from the Tour de France that July for doping and the team's soigneur was arrested as he re-entered France from Belgium. People were understandably upset and angry: They felt betrayed by athletes they, if not idolized, then at least admired. For the previous few years, US baseball fans felt betrayed, but for a different reason: the players went on strike in August of 1994, cutting the season short by nearly two months. Worst of all, in fans' eyes, there was no World Series that year for the first time in nearly a century. The strike continued long enough to delay the 1995 season opening. When play resumed, resentful fans stayed away through the rest of that season, and the two that followed. So, MLB and the UCI were faced with a similar problem: bringing the fans back. That is why I believe both organizations did nothing while McGwire, Armstrong and others were "juicing". McGwire's epic season, in which he and Sammy Sosa battled to become baseball's new home-run king, generated excitement and brought fans back to the park. The following year, the story of Lance rising from his deathbed to the peaks of hors de categorie climbs in the Tours piqued interest in old and new cycling fans, especially in the US. Skeptics--especially those in France--were seen as resentful curmudgeons who simply couldn't accept a brash American winning the Tour. Although Hart paints Landis more sympathetically than he does Armstrong, it's clear from the articles that there are no heroes in the whole sordid saga of professional bicycle racing in the past two decades. It's been said that we tell the stories we need to believe--or have others believe. (Every nation in history has done this.) Perhaps the sport, and others, will find another compelling story to get people interested again. Then, if that story--like Lance's--is revealed to be that of a cheat and liar, or simply a fiction, some fans will walk away but those who remain simply won't trust the athletes or sport as they once did. Thus, it remains to be seen whether those sports and leagues* will ever emerge from the cloud of suspicion that shrouds them. *--As bad as the UCI is, it can be argued that FIFA, the International Olympic Committee and other sports authorities are even more corrupt.
Some have defined "creativity" as using whatever is at hand to solve a problem. I guess if you are trying to build a bike and you don't have access to steel, aluminum, titanium or carbon fiber tubing, you have to get creative.
I'd like to know what the creator of that bike will use to make his or her drivetrain and brakes!
Well, she looks really cute on that bike. But she is relevant to this blog. Better yet, she has something in common with it. What?, you ask. Midlife Cycling turns 8 years old today. I wrote my first post on 2 June 2010. I'm still "at it," 2567 posts later. And I'll keep it up as long as I enjoy it. Since I've never stopped loving cycling or writing, I don't think I'll lose the pleasure I've found in this blog and you, my audience. So what has changed? Writers are the worst judges of their own work, but I'm guessing that this blog has developed a "voice", whatever it may be. In the beginning, I was probably making some effort to imitate other bike blogs I'd read, especially ones written by women. (I'm thinking particularly of Lovely Bicycle.) But I am a very different sort of woman, and cyclist, so I realized that I could do no more or less than follow my own instincts and inclinations. Sometimes I write about my own trips or bikes; other times I write about other people's rides and machines; still other times I veer into topics that don't have much of a relationship to cycling. Others will judge the results, but I am happy to be writing this blog and that others are reading it. Aside from the blog itself, some other things in my life have changed since I started. For one thing, I now have four bikes I didn't have back then: Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special; Vera, the twin-tube Miss Mercian mixte I bought about a year after I started this blog; Josephine, the Trek 412 estate-sale find and Martie, the Fuji Allegro that's become my commuter/errand bike. And I no longer have Helene, the Miss Mercian I bought not long after I started this blog, and the two Schwinn LeTours I acquired and used as commuter/errand bikes. Oh, and I now have one cat, Marlee, who wasn't even born when I wrote that first post. Sadly, Charlie and Max, my feline buddies back then, are gone. On a happier note: I have taken, in addition to hundreds of day rides, trips abroad which have included cycling: Prague, Paris (twice), Italy (Rome and Florence) and Montreal. And I've been to Florida a number of times to visit my parents but also to enjoy some warm-weather riding in the middle of winter. I don't know what changes and adventures lie ahead. All I know is that you'll read about them here!
It has one of the most iconic looks of '70's bicycles:
The Motobecane Grand Record was also finished in other color schemes, such as silver/black and yellow/black. But the black with red panels and headtube, and gold lug lining, is the most eye-catching and probably the most sought-after. But it wasn't just a "looker": From all accounts, it was a nice rider--sort of a more refined version of the Peugeot PX-10. Like the Peugeot, the Grand Record was constructed with Reynolds 531 tubing and Nervex lugs, though Motobecane's finishing work was clearly better. The two bikes share another trait that isn't surprising: French components. Well, the PX10 was all French, except when it came with a Brooks Professional saddle. (Sometimes it was supplied with an Ideale 90.) The Grand Record, on the other hand, always sported the Brooks Pro, and usually came with the Swiss short-reach Weinmann Vainqueur centerpull brakes. (Occasionally they arrived with Mafac Competitions.) It also had non-French components that, ironically, gave the bike its name: Campagnolo Record derailleurs and shifters. Otherwise, with its TA Pro Vis 5 or Stronglight 49 double crankset, Normandy Luxe Competition hubs, Super Champion rims, Robergel spokes and Phillipe bars and stem, it was as Gallic as the PX-10. Of course, people have turned Grand Records into touring bikes or classy commuters/city bikes because of its performance--and looks. (It was also available in a twin-tube mixte models, unusual for a bike so high on the food chain.) In fact, the black-and-red scheme was so popular that Motobecane would later offer some other models with it. Now, if you have been reading this blog, you know I'm a Mercian aficianado. (I own four of them.) So, here's my question: If I love Mercians and the look of the Grand Record, should I want a Mercian that looks like a Grand Record, sort of:
Well, that's what someone's selling on e-Bay. And it has a vintage Campagnolo gruppo. The price is good--and the bike is my size, more or less. Hmm...Do I want a Mercian---that looks like a Motobecane?
It's been called "The Year Without Spring." Here in New York, people talk--and complain--more than most farmers about the weather. This year, though, they do have reason to complain: Since March, we've had days or weeks when it's been cold and wet punctuated by a day or two of summer-like heat. Yesterday was one of the few spring-like days we've had, at least temperature-wise. The mild air, though, was humid, probably because of the heavy clouds that covered the area until mid-afternoon, when the sun broke out. Also, we had march-like wind. So what did I do? I pedaled into that wind--to Connecticut. Yes, I cranked most of the 70 kilometers (43 miles) up to the Nutmeg State into a 30KPH wind. I had to remind myself of that when I arrived, more tired than I'd been on previous rides this year. I thought I'd grown soft over the past couple of weeks, when papers, exams and other end-of-semester duties made me more sedentary than usual.
At the Veterans Memorial in Greenwich, the flowers--and flags--were in full bloom. Unfortunately, my camera wasn't up to the occasion (or I'm the most technologically incompetent person writing a blog today). Fortunately, Arielle was.*
Of course, the ride back was--if you'll pardon the expression--a breeze. *--I'll be riding more of Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore, soon. I have ridden her a couple of times, mainly to test things, but I wanted to save her for the nice weather--and my birthday, for which she is my gift to myself!
The World Cup football tournament starts in a couple of weeks. Perhaps even the US, which didn't qualify, is getting ready:
Will the "ball" go through the" posts"? If it does, and Andres Cantor isn't there to announce it, does it count as a goal? Interesting, what you can see on a bike ride in the Bronx!
Twenty-five or thirty years ago, streets in Chinese cities were as choked with traffic as the Long Island Expressway (a.k.a. The World's Longest Parking Lot) during peak commuter hours. The difference was, of course, that the throngs of people going to work or school in Beijing or Shanghai weren't enclosed in four-wheeled motorized vehicles. Instead, they were astride bicycles:
Westerners--especially Americans--were amused by the idea of "bicycle traffic jams." The Chinese who were part of them, like people stuck in any kind of traffic jam, probably weren't (or so I would assume). But within a decade or so, their problem would be "solved": Instead of being surrounded by cyclists on their way to work, they would be stuck in automotive gridlock that would make a trip across the George Washington Bridge at 8 am seem like, well, a bike tour along la route departementale 618 from France to Spain. Now some folks in Beijing are realizing that driving isn't always as quick or convenient as they'd hoped. They, especially the young are--you guessed it!--getting back on their bikes. I haven't heard any reports of bicycle traffic jams like the ones the city experienced when few people had cars. But city planners might be anticipating them--or responding to folks who want their bike commutes to be safer and more convenient. To that end, construction on a 6.5 kilometer bicycle highway is set to begin this September. Because it will cross major highways, much of the bike route will be elevated. There will be no traffic lights, and its use will be restricted to pedal bicycles without motors. Moreover, it will have a gated entrance--a feature borrowed, along with others, from the world's longest elevated bike path in Xiamen. That southeastern Chinese city was mainly a port city until three decades ago, but has morphed into a center for financial services and technology. It has also become, interestingly, the city frequently cited as "greenest" or "most livable" in the country. The influx of highly-educated professionals probably has something to do with that. Those are the same sort of people who live and work in Zhongguancun, the district in the northwestern part of Beijing where the new bike highway will be built. It's often called "China's Silicon Valley." If the area's scientists, engineers, venture capitalists and creative people are anything like their counterparts in California, it's not surprising that they've taken to cycling--and want better conditions for it. What I find fascinating is that the move from bicycles to cars and back has happened more or less within a generation. Here in the US, the cycle has taken a century--that is, in those areas where there are people who ride to work and school, and for pleasure.
One could be forgiven for believing such a thing, especially after the way the Cynergy Cycling Club (of southern New Jersey) publicized its Memorial Day ride two years ago. Whatever you do today, I hope you ride and remember!
These days, we see lots of bicycles on the "Web". But unless you let your bike sit too long without riding it, you're not likely to see a web on your bicycle....
Even during mountain biking's peak of popularity--about a quarter-century ago--most mountain bikes never saw a trail or dirt, let alone a mountain. These days, something similar might be said about track bikes. If someone is obsessed with building a bike that's NJS-compliant, chances are that it will never go anywhere near a velodrome. It's just as ironic that as track or fixed-gear bikes have grown in popularity, interest in track racing, as a participant or spectator sport, doesn't seem to be on the rise. Most fans, at least here in the US, seem to focus their attention on major road races like the Tour, Giro and Vuelta. Time was, though, when track racing was more popular than any other sport in the 'States, with the possible exception of baseball. In fact, the top cyclists earned even more money than guys who could hit or throw spheres of stitched horsehide. There are few remnants of that time because, for one thing, most of the great riders of that time have passed on. Also, most of the venues in which they rode are gone. One of them was located about a morning's ride--half an hour on a ferry and two on a bike--from my apartment. In its day, it hosted some of the best cyclists of the day--including Alfred Letourneur, the French rider who set speed records on both sides of the Atlantic, as well as local heroes like Charlie Jaeger and Frank Kramer. Jaeger and Kramer hailed from Newark, then a major cycling center. After that city's velodrome closed in 1930, a businessman and cycling enthusiast from neighboring East Orange tried to keep the torch burning, if you will, and built a new velodrome on the site of a former quarry. Joseph Miele's track, the Nutley Velodrome, opened on 4 June 1933. Twelve thousand fans turned out that day to see Letourneur and Jaeger, as well as other star riders like Italy's Giovanni Manera, Belgian Gerard Debaets, Franz Deulberg of Germany and Brooklyn's own Paul Croley.
For two years, Nutley was "an international dateline," according to Michael Gabriele, whose book, The Golden Age of Bicycle Racing in New Jersey was published in 2011. "All the wire services covered the events," he explained. But around 1936 or 1937, the popularity of six-day and other track races declined, and the velodrome was used for boxing matches, midget car racing and other sports. The venue's last event was held on 15 September 1940, and it was demolished in 1942. A few months before the Nutley Velodrome's last event, another event was held that would continue New Jersey's status as one of cycling's US centers: the Tour of Somerville. For decades, it was the single most prestigious bike race in America, and one of the few that attracted riders from abroad. It also ignited the popularity of the criterium, which continues to be the most popular type of cycling race. Though the Nutley Velodrome, which opened 85 years ago next month, lasted less than a decade, it still holds an important place in American cycling. Nutley provided thrills for thousands of people, but in recent years the city has done more to calm people down: Until 2013, it hosted the US headquarters of Hoffman-Laroche, where Valium and Librium were developed.
The Place de la Concorde is one of the world's most impressive public squares. The first time I saw it, however, I tried to imagine it "covered with blood," as more than one writer of the time described it, as members of the French nobility and royal family were guillotined. I have seen other beautiful places with terrible histories. Sometimes their histories make their beauty all the more wonderful, in much the way lilacs are (and smell even better) because they bud and bloom at the end of winter. (Last week, I clipped some that were growing in a lot near the RFK Memorial Bridge. They're some of the latest I recall picking or buying, and their scent was all the more intoxicating because it seemed our winter simply would not end.)
All of this brings me to Elliot Lake, Ontario. It's in the northern part of the Canadian province, above Lake Huron. I've never been there, but the photos I've seen are enticing. I hear that people go there for outdoor sports--or to retire. Not so long ago, however, it was known as the "uranium capital of the world." Just about any kind of mining is dangerous to the miners and the place being mined: All you have to do is look at parts of West Virginia and Southeastern Colorado to know that. The Elliott Lake area is no exception. Though it doesn't seem to have suffered the environmental devastation some mining areas incurred, plenty of miners and other workers were injured, disabled or even killed while doing their jobs--not to mention those who got sick from uranium poisoning. Well, today some cyclists are going to set off from Elliot Lake and ride 170 kilometers to two other former mining centers in Ontario: Massey and Sudbury. What's interesting about this ride is that some of the cyclists were themselves injured or made ill on their jobs. Friends and family members will ride with them, in part to support injured workers, but also to protest the cuts in benefits paid to such workers.
If you're a regular reader of this blog, you have seen a few photos of me riding, and a few more with one or more of my bikes. Now, if you are a truly committed and dedicated reader of this blog (translation: if you are reading this blog when you should be riding), you might have wondered what I look like when I write these posts. Well, today I am going to reveal all:
All right, so I don't have an outfit like that. And if I did, why would I wear it while writing--or riding? That is actually a figure of Thomas Paine writing "Common Sense". At least, that's how someone remembers or imagines him writing it. So, apart from the fact that he wrote one of the most important documents in American--and possibly human--history, why am I showing an image of him? Well, this afternoon I snuck out for a ride. I got done what I needed to get done and scarcely a cloud was besmudging the sky. So, out I went, with no particular destination in mind--although I kinda sorta started on one of my routes to Connecticut. But I took a couple of turns I wouldn't normally take and found myself pedaling up and down hills in unfamiliar parts of somewhat familiar towns. After riding up a hill to avoid traffic headed for the Thruway, I came upon this:
Yes, Thomas Paine lived here. No, he didn't ride that bike.
Thomas Painelived in this house from 1802 to 1806. It was originally one of several buildings on a 300-acre farm the State of New York gave him for his service to the state, and the cause of independence. The State had seized the farm from Frederick DeVeaux to punish him for treason: He worked as a spy for the Crown during the Revolution. The house contains a number of artifacts as well as some charts and dioramas describing, among other things, the roles Jews and the descendants of the Huguenot settlers of New Rochelle played in the Revolution. (The city was founded by Huguenots from La Rochelle, France, who were escaping the wars of religion.) One interesting fact I learned is that the Hessians weren't actually mercenaries, at least in the way we define that term today. They were conscripted into their national armies, and the Landgrave (Prince) could basically use them as he saw fit. In essence, Landgrave Frederick II of Hesse-Cassel rented those troops to King George III--whose grandfather, George II, just happened to be Frederick's father-in-law. And Frederick pocketed the money. Today the house sits in a part of New Rochelle with sprawling houses and lawns. In addition to the old house, another remnant of the farm remains
one that suggests, if obliquely, one of Thomas Paine's occupations before he became a pamphleteer:
Yes, he was a sailor. No doubt he guided boats in or out of another stop on my trip this afternoon:
Mamaroneck is just a couple of towns up from New Rochelle on the western end of Long Island Sound. Not surprisingly, its harbor is a favorite spot for walkers and idlers, as well as a destination for cyclists. And a wedding party or two has been known to be held there. I can't help but to wonder whether Thomas Paine was looking out toward that expanse of water when he envisioned a new nation free from the rule of a king on the other side of the ocean.
Was he practicing for a Darwin Award? According to police reports, Brady Michael Phipps pilfered some merchandise from a Verizon store in Redding, California. From there, he ran across Hilltop Drive and entered a Dick's Sporting Goods store, where he climbed a ladder and stashed the stolen items in the rafters. Police officers came in. Now, I know that outside my hometown of New York, Big Box stores are even bigger than they are here. Still, I think that Phipps' chances of eluding capture weren't the greatest, especially since multiple officers were in the store. That, apparently, is not what he was thinking. He grabbed one of the bicycles the store was selling and rode it through the aisles and racks in an attempt to escape. One officer knocked him down. He continued to resist arrest, but the officers managed to take him into custody and book him. The charges: suspicion of obstructing an officer, petty theft...and violating parole.Turns out, he's been booked into the Shasta County jail twelve times since 2017.
Brady Michael Phipps, from the Shasta County Sheriff's Office
Maybe I've lived a sheltered life, but small-time shoplifting doesn't seem like the smartest thing to do when you're on parole. Nor does stealing a bike in an attempt to elude cops. Also, I can't help but to think that in the confines of a store, being on a bike might've made it easier for the police to capture him, if for no reason than it was easier to knock him off the bike than it would've been to tackle him while he was running. Brady Michael Phipps made it easier for some police officer to take him out of circulation. At the rate he's going, he'll take himself out of the gene pool and therefore be a candidate for the Darwin Awards.
