Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day.

Well, I hope it's as happy as it can be.  As you know there is a situation--the COVID-19 pandemic--that only an epidemiologist (or, perhaps, a certain kind of science fiction writer) could not have imagined a year ago.

Also, this is my first Mother's Day without my mother.  Our relationship was often complicated and fraught when I was younger, but we grew closer, and she was supportive, in various ways, during my gender transition/affirmation.

I know one thing:  I would have called her.  She would have thanked me for the flowers or whatever I sent her and say "You didn't have to do that."  And she would have asked what kind of weather we were having here in New York and, if it wasn't cold and rainy and windy (as it was the other night and yesterday morning), she would have told me to go for a ride.

Mavic: Yellow Blues

Once upon a time, a "dream" bike would be outfitted with Campagnolo Nuovo or Super Record components.  I finally did get my dream after a few years of riding, a bunch of part-time jobs on the side and a few skipped meals.  

In those days, Campagnolo didn't make rims.  At least, no hoops bore the Campy's logo. (I have heard, from various sources, that the rims Campagnolo would offer later were actually made by FIR.)  So, you chose from a number of other manufacturers.  Super Champion of France was popular in the day; in fact, my first "nice" wheels bore their rims.  So were Rigida, Nisi, Fiamme and Weinmann.  But most of us agreed that the "name" brand for rims was Mavic.  I rode their jantes on my first all-Campy bike--and most of the bikes I've ridden since.

During the '80's and '90's, Mavic was a veritable juggernaut in the world of rims and wheels, much as Shimano was (and, arguably, still is) among other bicycle componentry.  They produced the best tubulars and developed the first lightweight clincher that, combined with Michelin's Elan tire, could rival the weight and performance of tubulars.  A decade or so later, they developed some of the first really good rims for the then-nascent sport of mountain biking.

To this day, Mavic is best-known for its rims and wheels.  But it also produced some really nice componentry.  Its 451 brakes are believed, by some, to be the finest single-pivot sidepulls ever made. (Actually, Dia Compe made them for Mavic, who designed them.)  They are certainly among the most beautiful.  And, interestingly enough, Mavic's first products in 1889 were mudguards (fenders to us Yanks).

Mavic has contributed to the world of cycling, not only through its technical innovations and quality manufacturing, but also through its support of various teams throughout the years--and its neutral technical support of the Tour de France.  Their support cars and bikes are yellow, like the comany's label--and the Tour de France leader's jersey.

Sadly, however, reports from Agence-Presse France say that Mavic has been placed into receivership by a commercial court in Grenoble, near the company's Annecy, France, base.  "Receivership" is initiated by creditors or banks that believe a company cannot pay its debts.  This differs from "administration," which can be initiated by a company's directors.  The result of "receivership" is that the company is taken over by a court-appointed "reciever" who controls the assets and tries to keep the company out of liquidation.

As much as I like Mavic's rims and some of their other stuff, I'll admit that if I were more of a weight weenie, I'll admit that they're no longer the "go-to" they were, say, twenty or even ten years ago.  Some of that drop in prestige has to do with other companies making stuff that's lighter or just sexier.  So, it's not a surprise that Mavic's sales have not kept pace in recent years.

The real problem for Mavic, though, seems to be that nobody seems to know who actually knows it. Solomon, best known for ski equipment, bought Mavic in the mid-90's; a few years later, Adidas bought Solomon.  Amer Sport, a Finnish group,  would later become the main shareholder of Mavic.  Amer removed Mavic from its accounts in 2018 and sold the company to Regent LP, a California investment fund, last July.

So, the employees of Mavic, who are unionized, believed that their company was in the hands of Regent.  But, for some reason, they were not informed that the sale didn't go through and Mavic was instead acquired by a Delaware-based entity called M Sports International LLC, which has no links to Regent--and practically no traces on the Internet.

This sounds like the makings of a mystery novel.  The thing about novels (and plays) is that if they're great to read or watch, you should be happy that you don't have to live them.  The employees of Mavic want to know what their future is.  So do many of us who use their products.

They're Not Free To Celebrate Their Freedom

Seventy-five years ago today, the United States and its European allies accepted Nazi Germany's unconditional surrender of its armed forces.  

Citizens in countries such as France, Belgium, and the Netherlands could, for the first time in years, consider themselves free of a brutal occupation in which many of their friends, neighbors, colleagues--and, in many cases, relatives--were murdered or disappeared.  

As this is the 75th anniversary, few people who participated in combat, or who supported those, in or out of uniform, who participated in supporting the soldiers, sailors and airmen, or in other forms of resistance.  Even those who were young children during that time and remember various privations are not young.  So, this probably would have been the last time significant numbers of people who experienced the occupations in any way, as foes or allies, could or would celebrate in a major way.  

Notice that I used conditional tenses in my previous sentence.  Under other circumstances, thousands of people surely would have participated in ceremonies and other commemorations. Today, however, much of Europe remains under COVID-19 induced lockdowns.  In some countries, people can't even go for a bike ride or a walk and must show an official document granting them permission to go to grocery stores, pharmacies and other enterprises deemed as essential.

So, here is one of many sad ironies of the situation:  On a day when people would have been celebrating their liberation from one kind or tyranny, they are now living under another.  

And, the enforced curfews and other restrictions of Nazi invasions and occupations changed life in ways that still affect people today.  For example, the Paris Metro closes from 1 am to 5 am every day.  That schedule was imposed on the city during its occupation.  So it remains today.  In an odd parallel, for the first time in its history, the New York City subway system is  not operating 24/7.  It is now closed every day from 1 to 5 am--as a result of what has been called our "invisible invader."

Another parallel between the Nazi occupations and the COVID-19 pandemic is that thinking "out of the box" with the available facts is needed to beat back the terror.  The Nazis introduced the Blitzkreig, but French and other military strategists continued to strategize in the ways they'd done, or learned, before.  Once they and their allies understood that the Nazis were sending "lightning strikes" rather than masses of soldiers, they started to win battles.  Likewise, health care professionals, scientists and policy makers--at least the ones who don't placate political patrons--know that while their knowledge and data will inform their decisions, those decisions cannot always be made in the same ways because COVID-19 is not behaving in the same ways as earlier afflicitons.

I just hope that my friends in France and the wonderful people I met in other countries will soon be able to celebrate in the way they deserve (Xoom just doesn't cut it!)--perhaps with a bike ride.

The Queen Of De-Confinement

What does the 1970s Energy Crisis have in common with the 1966. 1980 and 2005 transit strikes in New York?

Each of those events motivated thousands of people to commute by bicycle.  Only the 2005 stoppage, however, seems to have resulted in significant numbers of permanent or even long-term bicycle commuters.  

Commuters on the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge during the 1980 NYC Transit strike.  Photo by Fred R. Conrad for the New York Times.

The 1970s Oil Embargo affected the entire United States as well as other countries.  Some of those who turned to pedaling two wheels had been driving four wheels and, once gasoline supplies returned and prices leveled off, returned to their cars.

To be fair, many of those temporary bike commuters depended on their automobiles because they lived and worked in areas where mass transit was scant or non-existent.  On the other hand, most situational cyclists returned to their old commuting routines, whether by subway or bus, once the 1966 and 1980 strikes ended. Some didn't care for riding in rain or cold; others just didn't care for cycling.  

But those aren't the only reasons why those service disruptions didn't create many lifetime cyclists, if you will, in the way the 2005 strike did.  In 1966, the North American Bike Boom was a few years on the horizon.   New York City was one of the few places in the United States with significant (if still relatively small) numbers of adult cyclists;  even so, most people still regarded bike riding as a kid's activity and bikes as toys.  

By 1980, the Bike Boom was a few years in the rear-view mirror.  Some people who bought Schwinns and Peugeots and Raleighs continued riding them, so even those whose feet never touched a pedal knew someone who rode to work or for pleasure.  In other words, an adult who rode a bike wasn't as much of an anomaly in New York, or much of the US, as it was a decade and a half earlier.  Never underestimate self-consciousness as a factor in someone's choice to ride--or not.

Someone riding to work in a dress or a suit was even less of an aberration in 2005 than he or she would have been a quarter-century earlier.  That, I believe, is a reason why fewer of them returned to buses and trains than their earlier counterparts did.  In general, the public was more conscious of cycling and cyclists.  It was around that time that the first traces of a cycling infrastructure, such as it is, started to take shape in the Big Apple.  So, some who might have been uneasy about spinning through traffic felt, with or without justification, safer in riding the newly-constructed bike lanes--and more confident about parking their bikes in the dedicated racks that began to appear on city streets.

Even so, the health benefits (mental as well as physical) they derived from cycling to work weren't enough to keep some people from reverting to their old commuting habits.  I would bet some gave up on bike commuting when they got a flat or had some other malfunction en route and couldn't  fix it.  Or they tried to use a bike that hadn't been ridden in years only to discover, well, why it hadn't been ridden in years.

Some French officials seem to understand as much.  They also want to enforce social-distancing mandates that will remain in effect once the country's lockdown (one of the strictest in the world) is lifted on the 11th.  However you define "social distancing," it's impossible on a half-full metro car, let alone one that's packed with rush-hour commuters.  Thus, the French government wants to encourage people to continue (or start) cycling, rather than taking mass transportation.

The result is a program--"Coup de Pouce Velo" (Bike Boost)-- that includes, among other things, up to 50 Euros (about $55 at current exchange rates) cyclists can use toward repairs, or on helmets, lights or other safety accessories, at partner bike shops.  Also included in CPV will be funds for temporary bike parking (new permanent facilities are in the works) as well as educational sessions with program-affiliated schools and coaches.

In announcing the program, French Environment Minister Elisabeth Borne tweeted, "Nous voulons que cette periode fasse franchir une etape dans la culture velo, et la bicyclette soit la petite reine du deconfinement."  We want this time, she said, to mark a step forward in bicycle culture, and for the bicycle to be the queen of de-confinement."

The "queen of deconfinement". (All nouns in French are masculine or feminine; the bicycle, whether it's called "velo" or "bicyclette," is feminine.)  I think Ms. Borne understands something else about cycling:  It's freedom for so many of us!

Bicycle Invasion?

We're taking over!  Bwa-ha-ha!

Cycle Y Corona ?

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Senora Provina, my old Spanish teacher might be appalled. Aprendiste algo en mi clase?

She certainly would wonder what kinds of lessons we’re learning from the COVID pandemic.  In years past, this day was an occasion for revelry, bright colors, spicy foods and “Cinco de Cycle” or “Cycle de Mayo” bike rides.  

To my knowledge, none of those rides are running today.  Your favorite Mexican restaurant, if it’s open, is doing only take-out or delivery —and may have a limited menu selection. 

I am going for a ride.  Afterward, I think I’ll order something from Los Portales. I’ve been going to them since the day about fifteen years ago when I was riding by and saw it full of Mexican families.  I stopped in and got “hooked.”

Of course, the question is:  What to drink?  I wonder how many people are going to drink Corona  today?

Piloting From Behind

Can a tandem "stoker" be a "back seat driver"?

Postponed--We Hope

I am happy I can still ride my bike.  In some places, COVID epidemic-related restrictions are so severe that people can leave their homes only to buy groceries or medicine, if they can leave at all.

Still, here in New York and other places where cycling is still allowed, mass rides and other bike-related events have been cancelled or postponed.  Among them is the annual Five Boro Bike Tour, originally scheduled for tomorrow.  Its organizers say they are discussing "new potential dates with our New York City agency partners."  Given that nobody really knows when the epidemic will stabilize, let alone end, it's hard not to think that the 5BBT, and other events, may not be held this year.

Among the canceled events are some races, including most of the early-season "classics" in Europe.  Then there are various rallies, swap meets and sales, including one in Traverse City, Michigan.  As part of the swap, which has been held in each of the past ten years, people sell their bikes and the event's sponsor, the local Recycle-A-Bicycle, receives 25 percent.  The proceeds help RAB recycle and refurbish used bikes.  The organization is "not in dire straits," according to a spokesperson, but "it's nice to know" they can have the swap, not only to raise money,   but so that bikes that are in garages will go to people who will ride them, rather than to landfills.

RAB hopes to have a smaller sale some time this summer.  I think a lot of event organizers have similar hopes.

"

Citibike Expands To Essential Neighborhoods

I have never ridden bikes from share programs. But I am glad such programs exist.

Blue Citibikes have been rolling along the street of my hometown, New York, for seven years.  That makes it one of the older share programs.  When it began, its organizers had the benefit of the experience of other cities' experience with programs.  While Citibike provides a useful and reasonably-priced service, it is not without its flaws.

Perhaps the most legitimate criticism of Citibike is that, even with its relative low cost and its offer of free or reduced-price memberships for people on various government assistance programs, the service is still out of reach for many of this city's residence.  Even if they can afford to use a Citibike, it's not available where they live.

It just so happens that they live in communities such  as Washington Heights, Mott Haven, East New York, Melrose and South Jamaica.  What they have in common is that they are, shall we say, not hipster havens.  In other words, they are--you guessed it--darker (in residents' skin tones) and poorer than places like Greenwich Village, Williamsburg and Astoria-Long Island City, where Citibike ports are plentiful.

It also happens that the neighborhoods that haven't had access to Citibike are home to many workers that have been deemed essential.  They are doing the jobs that can't be done in their rooms or apartments:  they have to get to the stores, nursing homes, hospitals, transit yards and other workplaces when subways and buses are on greatly reduced schedules.

Now, Citibike has announced that, starting on Monday the 4th, it will begin to install new docking stations in Upper Manhattan and the Bronx.  Included will be new stations in Harlem Hospital, located in its namesake neighborhood, and Lincoln Hospital, in the middle of "Asthma Alley" and the heart of the poorest Congressional district in the United States.  

There is little doubt that the nurses' aides, orderlies, maintenance workers and others who work at Lincoln and Harlem and other hospitals need those bikes for transportation.  One can also hope that some of the area's residents might use the Citibikes for recreation or other kinds of riding:  One reason why the neighborhood surrounding Lincoln has the highest rates of asthma, diabetes and other health problems is the lack of outdoor recreational opportunities.

So, the timing of Citibike's latest expansion is good.  Let's hope that the benefits continue after the virus is gone.

Don't Follow O.J.

O.J. Simpson's life can basically be divided into two parts:  The part that most of us can't imitate, and the part that none of us should emulate.

About the former:  He became famous because he was a big guy who could run fast.  That is what made him one of the greatest running backs in the history of the NFL.  Before becoming a professional American football player, he attended the University of Southern California, where he starred, not only in football, but in track-and-field.  At USC, he was part of a relay team that set a world record in the 4 X 110 relay.

I think it's fair to say that while he worked hard at becoming a great runner and football player, most of us never could have achieved what he did no matter how much we trained.  He purely and simply had talents that very few of us have.

Among his other physical gifts were his looks:  Check out a photo of him from his playing days.  His appearance, and his charisma, ironically, led him to the part of his life no-one should try to emulate:  his acting career.  Someone--perhaps OJ himself--made that all-too-common mistake of thinking that looking good on camera is the same as putting one's self in the shoes of a character.  Perhaps I am not being fair:  It may be that even if he were a more talented actor--or if his movies and TV shows had better writers-- people would always see OJ and not the character he was playing. 

Being a famous athlete and acting turned him into a celebrity, which can warp just about anybody.  By the time he reached his nadir, OJ seemed, at times, to be a parody of himself.  A decade and a half after his football career ended, he was involved in the incident that has defined him ever since:  a slow-speed car chase.  I can't decide whether it's worse to actually be involved on something like that or to live with the infamy that follows.

Byron Gentry of Bryant, Alabama will get a taste of it.  Because he has never been as famous as OJ, he will never be quite as infamous.  To paraphrase Andy Warhol, though, he may well have gotten his fifteen minutes of infamy.

He was riding along Country Road 784 in nearby Sand Mountain when a deputy pulled up to talk to him.  Gentry wasn't willing and fled into a nearby yard.  

The chase, which WDEF described as "low speed," moved to County Road 141.  Gentry refused to stop.  Another deputy joined the chase.  Gentry ditched the bike and ran into nearby woods, where the deputies caught him.

The police didn't say why the deputies pursued Gentry.  But when they ran a check on him, they found an outstanding warrant for domestic violence.  That charge will be compounded by charges of resisting arrest and Attempt to Elude.

All of this goes that getting involved in a slow chase--especially if you are the one pursued--is not a good idea.  OJ Simpson should have proved that for all time.

The Only Tour We'll See?

I saw the Tour de France today.

If you thought that was a cheap trick to get your attention, well, maybe it was.  The Tour normally doesn't begin until early July, a little more than two months from now.  Its organizers say that it's been rescheduled to begin on 29 August and run until 20 September.  Given how many other races and other sporting events--not to mention concerts, festivals and other gatherings--have been canceled altogether for this year, it wouldn't surprise me if this year's edition of the race meets a similar fate.

But, I tell you, I really saw the Tour today:

OK, it wasn't the race.  For that matter, it's not like any bike that would be ridden in one of the world's major competitions.  It seems rather like any number of other basic hybrid bikes one can buy:  probably not terrible, but not fantastic either.  Not bad looking, though.

Oh well.  It might be the only Tour de France we see this year.

Ben Banks On Re-covery

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I like Brooks leather saddles.  I ride them on all of my bikes except Martie, my Fuji Allegro.  It's a commuter/errand bike, so it doesn't get ridden for more than an hour at a time and gets parked on the streets in all kinds of weather.  For the same reasons, the Cannondale mountain bike I gave Georgios didn't have a Brooks saddle.

The main reason I ride them, of course, is that I find them comfortable once they're broken in.  But I also believe, perhaps erroneously, that they're better than other saddles for "green" reasons.  When the leather or vinyl covers of plastic-based padded saddles (like the ones from Cinelli, Bontrager and other companies) rip or deteriorate, they are as likely as not to end up in a landfill.  

Well, it seems that someone is trying to address that issue.  Someone who sells under the name "BankBen" on Ebay has contracted with a furniture upholsterer to re-cover those seats. (He writes the word as "recover," which made me think, at first, that they had been rescued--which, one could say, they were.)  There are Flite-type racing mounts as well as Avocet-type seats.  Here is a lovely example of the latter:

The red paisley covering came from an old piece of furniture.  So did the olive-covered top on this one:

and this nice brown distressed leather cover:

and this gray suede:

 



So, these saddles offer a double benefit:  They're recycling, not only what people sit on when they ride, but what the might recline in after the ride!

Coming Out

The other day, I rode to Connecticut.  It was one of the most spring-like days we’ve had so far:  bright and breezy.  So, I encountered a little more traffic than I’ve seen during the past few weeks.  On the other hand, I can remember very few days, under any sorts of circumstances, when I saw more people on bikes.  Some were cycling in groups, others solo, and a number of families were riding together in and around the parks in New Rochelle, Mamaroneck and Rye.

I also remember few times when tulips seemed so bright or beautiful—even if they were growing on the war memorial monument in the Greenwich Common.

The Persistence Of Riding

What if Salvador Dali were to design a bicycle?

An Essential Worker Gets What He Needs

If you've been reading this blog, you might remember that back in June, I got a 1996 Cannondale M300 mountain bike for not much money.  I fixed it up and turned it into a pretty decent city commuter.

It was actually good for the purpose:  I could ride it over almost any pothole or other obstacle without thinking.  It gave a smooth, fairly responsive ride, but I didn't have to worry about parking it because, in ten different shades of battleship gray, it didn't attract much attention.

So why am I talking about the bike in the past tense?  Well, I learned that Transportation Alternatives, of which I am a member, was participating in a program to give bikes to essential workers who are trying to avoid the subways and buses as they run less frequently and are thus more crowded. (Subway cars and buses been described as "Petri dishes" for coronavirus.)

I have my Fuji Allegro, which had been sharing commuting duties with the Cannondale--and had been my commuter before the 'Dale came along.  I got to thinking:  I have two commuter bikes and I'm not commuting.  Someone else has to commute and doesn't have a bike.

So why did I decide to give the Cannondale away?  Even though I installed upright bars, fenders and a rack, it's still a fairly close to its original self.  The Fuji, on the other hand, is a bit more idiosyncratic: The ways in which I altered it might not appeal to everyone.  Also, it fits me better than the 'Dale--and it's a mixte.

I sent Transportation Alternatives the bike's measurements and my height.  They found Georgios,an emergency-room doctor at Mount Sinai Hospital-Queens, just two blocks from where I live.  He's a little shorter than I am, and the bike has a long seatpost extended fairly far out, so the bike could be adjusted fit him well.

Georgios:  a hero.

The other night, when he finished his shift, we met.  Georgios, who's from Greece, told me his bike had been stolen and since the pandemic struck New York, he had been walking to work from Manhattan--about eight kilometers--because he didn't want to take the subway.

He'd applied to Specialized bike- match program, but all the bikes were gone, he told me.  He said, almost apologetically, that if Specialized contacts him and offers a bike, he'll pass the Cannondale on to someone else who needs it.  I told him not to worry:  If he likes the Cannondale, he should keep it, even if another bike comes along.  Besides, I am not about to place conditions on anything I give to someone who, in the course of doing his job, has seen patients as well as co-workers die.

I'm having a bad hair day--and week--and month!

All I asked is that he stay in touch: I want to be sure he's OK.  And I hope the bike is useful and brings pleasure for him.

R.I.P. John Forester

The things you read in adolescence never really leave you, even if you stop believing whatever they teach you.

For some people, the things they read passionately during their teen years include the Bible or other holy books.  Some people continue to immerse themselves in such texts.  But even if you convert to another religion or become an atheist, whatever holy text you read (or were fed) when you were young continues to influence your thinking.

For other people, those literary works might include Atlas Shrugged.  I have to admit, it (and The Fountainhead) had a hold on me for a time in my life. As John Rogers has pointed out, AS or The Lord of the Rings "can change a bookish fourteen-year old's life.  Of those books, he says, "one is "a childish fantasy that often engenders a lifelong obsession with unbelievable heroes," which leads "to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood" in which one is "unable to deal with the real world."  The other of those two books, he says, "involves orcs."   

My mind was also seized, at various times, by Les Miserables, Fathers and Sons and A Tale of Two Cities, as well as poems by Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Hilda Doolittle.  And, since my "formative years" as a person also just happened to be the years I was born, if you will, as a cyclist, I was--and continue to be--influenced by three cycling books in particular.  One is Eugene Sloane's Complete Book of Bicycling because it was the first comprehensive book about cycling I read--or even saw.  Before I encountered it, I didn't even know that books about bicycling existed.

Next came Tom Cuthbertson's Anybody's Bike Book, from which I began to teach myself how to fix my bike.  It also taught me about writing and teaching, even though I really wasn't thinking about becoming an educator or writer.  He had a "light touch":  He took his information seriously, but could convey it in a friendly, even humorous, style.

Later, another cyclist would introduce me to what might be one of the most controversial cycling books of all time.  What made it controversial is that it wasn't just a cycling book:  It was also a critique of the way urban planners were treating cyclists--and of the way cyclists saw, not only traffic, but themselves.

That book is Effective Cycling.  When its first edition was published in the late 1970s, some cities were building bike lanes and even installing separate signs and signals for cyclists.  The thesis of EC was that all such efforts were misguided or wrongheaded.  In order to become viable options for transportation, planners and cyclists themselves had to treat the bicyclists as vehicle operators rather than as faster pedestrians.  

Its author, John Forester, was a lifelong cyclist who became an activist and advocate.  That avocation began in the early 1970s, when he was ticketed for cycling on a street rather than the adjacent bike lane.  He fought--and beat--the ticket because, as an engineer and planner, he was able to demonstrate that cycling in the bike lane was indeed more dangerous than cycling in the street.

Although his arguments had merit, they gained little traction among planners who, for the most part, perpetuated the mistakes he railed against.  One reason why those ideas weren't more widely implemented is that they were (and are) radical and therefore a threat to established notions about automotive and bicycle traffic.  Another reason might have been his style, which--in contrast to Sloane's earnestness and Cuthbertson's humor and relatability--was often called "preachy" or even "abrasive".  

Whatever you think of his idea of the "bicycle as vehicle," his critiques of bike lanes and policies were spot-on.  Unfortunately, four decades after EC's initial publication, I make some of the very same criticisms in this blog.

His long career--and his cycling--continued almost until the end of his life, which came last Tuesday.  He was 90 years old.

Cycling Under A Pink Cloud

Yesterday we had a deluge.  Today it was cloudy, breezy and chilly.  Still, I saw unmistakable signs of spring during my ride this afternoon.

Whether or not a garden is artfully arranged, flowers lift my spirits.  To paraphrase Will Rogers, I've never met a flower I didn't like.

Am I sentimental?  Perhaps.  I will admit to being a romantic, even a hopeless one.  My newest dream is a bike lane under a canopy of cherry blossoms.

Some people talk about being on a "pink cloud."  I think I got a glimpse of what it might be like to live under one.  It would be very nice.  At least it was, for the brief moment I spent under it.

Earth Day X 50

Today is Earth Day.

Fifty years ago today, this "holiday" was first observed. (I wonder whether some company or organization gives its employees a paid day off.)  Interestingly, the then-nascent environmental movement coincided with the origins of modern campaigns for gender equality and LGBT rights--and what was, arguably, the peak of the Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam War movements.

It also was about the time the North American Bike Boom was gaining momentum.  At that time, cycling was seen as integral to "helping the planet."  That connection became more tenuous during the 1980s and 1990s, as environmental concerns receded from public consciousness and too many cyclists acted like wannabe racers.  (I admit, I was one of them!)

From Bike and Roll DC

Today, while the mass gatherings normally associated with Earth Day are not possible, given the COVID-19 epidemic, we can (at least in most places) still ride to wherever we need to go--or simply to get out of our rooms, apartments or houses!

WHO Do you Listen To?

It wasn't a surprise because it was.

One could say that about many things Donald Trump has done.   He says and does things almost no-one could have anticipated, and they therefore come as a shock.  But they don't surprise us because the Cheeto In Chief has a history of doing things we wouldn't expect of anyone else.

An example is his decision to cut US funding to the World Health Organization.  I don't think even Herbert Hoover, the last American president who could claim to be an isolationist, would have done such a thing had the WHO existed at that time.  But Trump, at least since he started the campaign that led to his election, has voiced--and acted with-- disdain for anything that fosters American cooperation with the rest of the world. An example was his pulling the US out of the Paris Climate agreement.

So, if he hadn't already cut off America's financial contribution to the WHO--just as the world is in the COVID-19 pandemic--the organization's latest recommendation might have roiled him enough to hold up the money.

"Whenever feasible, consider riding bicycles or walking," the organization recommends.  These activities provide "physical distancing while helping to meet the minimum requirement for daily physical activity, which may be more difficult due to increased teleworking, and limited access to sport and other recreational activities."

Now, the fact that the WHO's recommendations are based on science and logic would be troubling enough for Trump. His ire, though, would be compounded by long-standing hatred of bicycles and bicyclists, to which I've alluded in this blog.

To be fair, there was a brief period when he didn't hold--or at least express--disdain for anything without a motor and with fewer than four wheels.  He took the Tour DuPont, then on the verge of becoming one of America's, and possibly the world's, major races and re-branded it as the Tour de Trump.  This was around the time Greg LeMond was winning the Tour de France, and bike racing seemed ready to take its place as one of this country's major sports.  In brief, he saw it as a business opportunity.

He later returned to his velo-phobia, culminated with his mocking of John Kerry when he got into a bike accident.  Imagine if that had happened now--just as the WHO is recommending cycling as a means of transportation and recreation during the COVID-19 pandemic.

A Sign Of Things To Come?

I should have seen this coming:

a folding electric bike.

It actually makes a certain amount of sense, especially in cities like New York and Tokyo.  

Still, it looks pretty odd--at least to me.

Back To The Garden?

This is the time of year when some people get on their bikes for the first time in months.

This is also the time of year when some people begin to till their gardens.

Is it possible to combine both activities?

Specialized Donates Bikes To Essential Workers

In the cycling community, Specialized is often seen, along with Trek and possibly Cannndale, as one of the "800 pound gorillas" of the bicycle industry.

While those three companies have gobbled up some smaller bike and parts makers, and often dictate what dealers can and can't sell in their shops, I should point out that the companies that make cheap bike-shaped objects sold in big-box stores are much larger.  And, even those companies are dwarfed by corporations in other industries such as automobiles, petroleum and high technology.

Having said all of that, I want to give Specialized a shout-out for their recent announcement:  They are giving away 500 bikes to essential workers.  

Ian Kenny says Specialized will be distributing half of those bikes in California and the other half in New York.  The wheels earmarked for the Big Apple will be distributed via Transportation Alternatives, and arrangements will be made with local shops to ensure that recipients also receive helmets and other safety gear.

Artist's rendering of Specialized's bikes-for-essential-workers program

He explains that Specialized will give bikes to workers that are deemed essential under Federal guidelines.  So, while people in the health-care professions will be among the recipients, so will workers like grocery store employees, bus drivers, farm laborers and others whose usual modes of transportation have been "flipped upside down" by the pandemic.

Most beneificiaries will get the "Cirrus" commuter model, which retails for about $550 new.  A few workers with longer commutes, however, will be gifted with one of the company's electric bikes.

As I said in an earlier post, if anything good comes of this pandemic, it might be that policy-makers, planners and the general public will see that the bicycle is not only a viable alternative form of transportation and recreation, but also an integral part of any locality's infrastructure.