What's Worse: Paint Or Police Passing?

 If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I don't give a blanket endorsement to roadside bicycle lanes.  Too many, at least in the US, are poorly-conceived, constructed and maintained.  The worst sort of lanes are the ones that serve no pratical purpose-- the ones I call lanes from nowhere to nowhere--because they do nothing to encourage cycling as a practical alternative to driving for commuting, errands and other purpose-driven trips.  And the most dangerous ones are the ones that separate motor traffic from cyclists by nothing more than a line on the pavement.  As I've said on more than one occasion, "paint is not infrastructure."

Studies have shown that painted cycle lanes do nothing to reduce injuries and "advisory lanes"--one which motorists are allowed to enter--are worse than no lane at all:  they increase the odds of injury by 30 percent.

The only news, for me, in those studies is the number:  I know, from experience, that a painted is as much a margin of safety for cyclists as a swath of fishnet scotch-taped at the nose bridge offers against COVID-19 or any other contagious virus.  And too often, motorists use "advisory" and even painted "bike-only" lanes to pass or double-park; the latter is often done by drivers of delivery trucks. 

To be fair, drivers, until recently, have been inculcated with the notion that they are the "kings of the road":  that motor vehicles take priority over cyclists and pedestrians.  If they haven't cycled during their adult lives, it's hard for them to un-learn such an attitude.  Also, some lanes, especially the "advisory" ones, aren't marked in ways that motorists can easily see, especially if they are driving large vehicles.

But some of the worst offenders, in my experience, are police officers in their "cruisers."  I can't begin to tell you how many times I've seen them parked in the middle of lanes while munching on donuts and sipping coffee.  And I've had a couple of close encounters with constabulary cars that weren't responding to an emergency call.  At least, I don't think they were:  their lights weren't flashing and their sirens weren't blaring.

Some have debated whether what was captured in that image was indeed a "close call" with a police car. However, Andrew Frogley on the Road.cc blog, who didn't think it was such a "close call," nonetheless agreed that one blogger had a legitimate question:  "What's worse?  The painted cycle lane or the close pass?"

Geoff Hickman had, I believe, the best answer:  "One enables the other."

Spring Back?

 The Spring Equinox came yesterday.  It certainly felt that way when I set out on Zebbie, my 1984 King of Mercia, for Point Lookout.  I chose to ride her, in part, because she has full fenders and yesterday’s rain turned some residual road salt and sand into nasty muck.

Anyway, my ride started under clear skies with a temperature of about 15C (60F) with a breeze blowing toward me.  If not perfect, conditions were nice and certainly felt like the first day of Spring. 

But I think I entered some sort of time machine as I pedaled down the Broad Channel bike lane and across the Veterans’ Memorial Bridge to the Rockaways. Clouds gathered and blanketed the sky, though they brought no threat of rain.  The breeze stiffened into a real, full-on March wind.  And the temperature dropped, or so it seemed, to a level that would have been right a few weeks ago.

The boardwalks of the Rockaways, Atlantic Beach and Long Beach hosted more cyclists and strollers, including families, than I’ve seen in a while.  They, no doubt, wanted to take in the light and air, but were bundled in parkas and scarves.

The reason for the seeming reversal of the seasons is the ocean: At this time of year, the water temperature is still only about 4 or 5C (38-40F). And the wind blew from those waters to the boardwalks, streets and land.

On the ride back, I felt the air grow warmer, gradually, as I pedaled away from the ocean..This morning, though, it seems that a touch of winter has returned—if only for a little while,

Power--Or Peril?

Do you hope the kid who rode the bike wasn't hurt--or wonder how powerful a rider he or she will be all grown up?

I mean, if a toddler could ride hard or fast enough to knock that thing--a surveillance camera, I think--imagine him or her in the peloton at age 27.

Just hope that kid was wearing a helmet.

The bike doesn't look any the worse for the crash, though!

 

St. Patrick's Day Sandwich

I had a St. Patrick's Day sandwich.

No, I'm not talking about corned beef and cabbage.  Rather, two fabulous cycling days sandwiched St. Pat's holiday, which featured rain, drizzle and more rain.  Wednesday was sunny and clear, if a bit nippy, but yesterday was more like a day in the middle of May:  sunny, with a slight breeze and temperatures that reached 22C (72F).

So, yesterday, I took advantage of the weather--and the extra hour of daylight at the end of the afternoon, thanks to Daylight Savings Time--and pedaled up to Greenwich, Connecticut and back.  

Of course, being so early in the Spring (or not officially Spring, if you look at the calendar), some plant life isn't quite ready to express the weather.  I didn't mind, though:  the tree in that photo is still beautiful, I believe, in a New England sort of way.  

I must say, though, it's odd to see bare trees as folks strolled along the common in T-shirts, tank tops, shorts or light, flowy skirts.  Then again, I was wearing my lightweight knee-length "knickers" and a long-sleeved T-shirt--and fingerless gloves.

On Wednesday afternoon, after riding to the World Trade Center and taking the PATH train to Journal Square, Jersey City, I pedaled along Kennedy Boulevard down to Bayonne, where a park entrance enticed me to take a detour. 

That park, the Richard A. Rutkowski Park, which includes the Hackensack Riverwalk, abuts Newark Bay, which forms part of the boundary between New Jersey and Staten Island.  Now, this park isn't Big Sur or Acadia, but it has its own charm.  For one thing, it's nicely landscaped and the paths are well-constructed.  For another, it has something of the aesthetic of a post-industrial park like the Cement Plant Park in the Bronx but the waterfront in Rutkowski is still active:  Ships come and go, and the docks and factories still hum with activity.  Somehow all of that makes the sensation of riding by the water all the more calming, especially late in the day, at least for me.

From there, I pedaled down to the Bayonne Bridge for the first time in a few years.  It had been closed so that the span could be reconfigured to allow larger ships to pass.  I am happy to report that the reconstruction includes a bike and pedestrian lane that's better than the old one.  For one thing, it's wider and better-maintained.  For another, it is on the east side of the span, which offers better views than the old one on the west side. Best of all, it lets you off at Trantor Place, where directions to the Ferry (to Manhattan), Stadium and Snug Harbor Cultural Center are clearly marked.  

My only criticism of the new lane is that it's a bit difficult to access from the Bayonne (New Jersey) side.  The entrance ramp rises from Kennedy Boulevard between 7th and 6th Streets.  It's set back and not clearly marked, and because Kennedy is interrupted by a highway entrance and takes a turn on the other side of it, it's easy to lose your way. (If you continue to go straight, you'll end up on a different street altogether.

From the bridge, I rode Richmond Terrace, which winds along the North Shore of the Island and passes Snug Harbor.  The main problem with the Terrace, for cycling, is that it's narrow and almost everyone drives well over the speed limit.  There's been talk of constructing a cycle lane alongside it, or on parallel roads, to allow a safe cycle route from the Bridge to the Ferry.  

So my St. Patrick's Day "sandwich" included enough riding, I think, to burn off the calories I consumed on the day itself--all of them from Irish (or Irish-American) delicacies!

Bikes Not Going Their Way

 

For the past two years, you may have had difficulty in buying a bike—the one you want, anyway. If you managed to find your machine of choice, you probably had to pay more for it than you would have in 2019.

You may have had a similar experience in procuring parts to repair, refurbish or update your favorite ride—or even if you were looking for accessories like water bottle cages or a pair or riding glasses or gloves.

The reason for the situation I’ve described is the COVID-19 pandemic. It disrupted supply chains and even closed production facilities at the very moment when folks took up cycling as a way to avoid buses and trains or to get exercise or mental cleansing in a way that allows for social distancing.

But at least you could get something you could ride, whether or not it was your first choice, as long as you were willing to pay and could wait. 

The folks in Russia aren’t so lucky. (Ok, the Ukrainians have it worse, but bear with me!) The way things are going, they won’t be able to get bikes, parts, accessories, apparel—or much of anything—at all.

A number of bicycle and bike-related companies have suspended their operations in the country. The list includes SRAM, Trek, Specialized, Tern and Quality Bicycle Products (QBP). Also, leading bicycle tire manufacturers Continental, Michelin, Pirelli and Bridgestone have joined their ranks.  

Those companies, no doubt, were motivated by the difficulty of doing business in Russia due to banking sanctions and that some shipping companies, including Fed Ex and UPS, have stopped delivering to the country.  But one representative also says “there’s a social aspect too” in the companies’ actions.

A Joycean Parade of Cyclists

 Today is, of course, St. Patrick’s Day.

Since I am not Irish (at least, not to my knowledge!), I will not tell you whether or how to celebrate this day.  I will say, however, that so much of what we’ll see today is what I’ll call Celtic Kitsch. (Confession:  I was in college before I knew that the “C” at the beginning of “Celtic” is pronounced like a “k.”  Until then, I’d been pronouncing the word as “sell-tick,” like the basketball team in Boston.) The truth is, few can agree on what is “authentically” Irish. Although schools teach the Gaelic language, nearly everyone speaks (beautifully) the language of their colonizers.  And, apart from Roman Catholicism with a strong monastic tradition—which the young are largely abandoning—we actually know little about pre-Anglo Irish culture and history.

James Joyce understood as much.  Although all of his writing is set in his native country—which he lived away from for most of his adult life—he is not part of a “Celtic revival.” Instead, he used Ireland—Dublin, mainly—as a lens through which he could explore how people move through life, and how it moves through them—and, perhaps most important, our minds re-assemble it all, whether in images or language—or simply deal live with it as the chaos it is.  

Some have said that Joyce’s works—specifically Dubliners and Ulysses—are therefore to literature what Picasso’s Cubist paintings are to art.  Others have called him the first “cinematic” writer.  I agree with both, and would add that his narrative style is like a bicycle ride:  Whenever I take a ride, even one I’ve done hundreds of times, I see not only people and things I haven’t seen before, but a building, a city block, a tree or a seashore from an angle or in a different kind of light (or darkness) from what I saw on that same ride on a different day.

Martina Devlin, Darina Gallagher and Donna Cooney seem to understand as much.  On Sunday, they participated in a Dublin St. Patrick’s Day parade that includes a procession of 100 cyclists dressed in Ulysses-themed Edwardian clothes. They took spectators on a journey through places in the book.

Martina Devlin, Darina Gallagher and Donna Cooney (Photo by Norma Burke)

Cooney, the artistic director of the Dublin Cycling Campaign (now there’s a job I wouldn’t mind having!) said this year’s bicycle procession and St.Patrick’s Day parade are particularly special because February was the 100-year anniversary of Ulysses’ publication.  But the essence of the event might have been best summed up by Devlin, a writer whose speech included an excerpt from the novel and began with this:  “One of the landmark days in my life was when I learned how to ride a bike.”

“I felt as if I were on the road to somewhere.”

As were the cyclists and marchers in the Dublin parade, 100 years after Ulysses came into the world.

Agonizingly Rewarding

I've cycled in the Green Mountains, Adirondacks, Catskills, Sierra Nevada, Pyrenees, Alpes Maritimes and the Alps of France, Italy and Switzerland.  I've also done some challenging climbs in places like the Greek island of Milos, where the road up the mountain, I think, was first built long, long before I was born and simply paved over.  

I don't know whether that climb was tough (but rewarding) because of the less-advanced state of engineering at the time it was first carved out, the hot weather or my age.  But it felt nearly as arduous, at times, as one stretch of the Col de Portillon, on the Spanish border.  I climbed it--and was both terrified and exhilarated by the views from the guardrail-less virages--on a bike loaded with full panniers.  I don't know whether that stretch--about a kilometer of a 10 kilometer climb --was steeper than the most vertical stretches of the Alpe d'Huez or Col d'Agnel (a.k.a. Colle d'Agnello: It's on the Italian-French border) but I remember a group of people applauding me when I made it to the top. 

Well, there is one climb that claims to put those, and all others, to shame.  Every year, the Mount Washington Auto Road Bicycle Hillclimb takes cyclists to the top of the highest peak in the Northeastern United States. The route can lay claim to one of the world's steepest climbs:  The average grade is 12 percent; extended sections rise at 18 percent and for one part near the end, cyclists have to pump their way up a 22 percent climb.  

When bumper stickers proclaim, "This car climbed Mount Washington," you know it has to be quite ride for cyclists. (The road is closed to auto traffic on the day of the ride.)  What makes the ascent all the more laborious is the weather, some of the most severe and changeable in the world. For years, the race was held in September, but cold, wind, rain and snow caused organizers to move it to August--where there is still a chance of starting off in typically summer-like conditions but pedaling through cold, wind and freezing rain before reaching the top.

At the start of the 2017 ride. Photo by Joe Viger

Mark Greenleaf would know.  He plans to participate for the 35th time when this year's edition is held on 20 August.  

In 1983, he was living in Providence, Rhode Island when, one day, he grabbed the mail before going out to dinner with friends.  Among that day's delivery was a copy of Bicycling! magazine, in which he noticed an article about the ride.  "After a couple of beers, we dared each other to do it," he said of his friends at that fateful dinner.  The following year, he did it for the first time.

After each climb--which he completed--he always felt it was "agonizingly rewarding."  I could say the same for the climbs I've made.

An Early Sign?

Under a canopy of wizened limbs

They rise from catacombs of winter horizons

Fit For An Emperor Or Empress’

 Beware the ides of March.

Those words are, of course, Shakespeare’s:  A soothsayer emerges from a crowd to warn Julius Caesar in the Bard’s eponymous play.

In much of the Northern Hemisphere, Spring is about to arrive.  It is a time of change:  Many of us look forward to longer periods of daylight and, yes, warmer weather.  But it’s also a time other changes, some of which are already underway. 

Anyway, I typed “ides of March bicycle” into a Google search window just to see what would come up.

This Ides of March bicycle chain bracelet is fit for an emperor or empress*—or, at least, the King of the Mountains.

*—What is a gender-neutral term for emperor or empress?  

Who but I—or a transgender or non-binary historian—would ask such a question?

A Messenger For Equality

March is Women's History Month.  As I've mentioned in other posts, the bicycle--as Susan B. Anthony herself said--has played an important role in liberating women. It led to a revolution in the way we dress--freeing women from corsets, hoopskirts and bustles--which, in turn, gave us more independence and mobility, not only into the physical places where we could go, but also in what we could do for paid work (or whether or not we could do paid work at all!) as well as in our free time.

It also took us on our path toward something that, in the US, only men were allowed to do from 1776 until 1920--and a right given only to white men until 1865. I am talking, of course, about voting.  Almost nobody would dispute that when women were able to partake of the other liberties I've described, it made it possible for even the most conservative men to realize that we have the powers of discernment derived from life experience that give us at least the same ability to decide what is best for our selves, families, communities and nation as the other 49 percent of the population.  

What can't be overlooked, however, are the mundane tasks women performed as part of the project of achieving the right to vote.  Here is a bike messenger--in bloomers, one of the sartorial innovations wrought by women on bicycles--at work for the National Women's Party headquarters:

From the National Women's History Museum

Okay, I'll admit that today's post is, at least in part, an excuse to post that image!  She looks about as happy as anyone I've seen in doing her work.  And well she should have been.

Sunday funnies, funny bicycle images, folding bicycles

 I have ridden several folding bikes but have owned two. One was  a Dahon Vitesse 5 on which I commuted for about a year and a half. The other was a 1970s Chiorda I found in the trash on a Jackson Heights curbside. I rode the bike a couple of times before I gave it to a local mechanic who gave it to his girlfriend.

Neither of those bikes bore any resemblance to this one:

The Future of Bike Parking in Your Neighborhood?

 

In October, I wrote about a bicycle parking locker the Brooklyn startup Oonee installed by Grand Central Station.

Now, the company’s founder, Shabazz Stuart (cool name, isn’t it?) is taking his idea “on tour,” if you will.  Yesterday, the parking pod was brought to Manhattan’s Meatpacking District, where it will remain for a month.  Following that, it will go across town to the Lower East Side and Union Square before crossing the bridge in June to Stuart’s home borough of Brooklyn, where it will spend a 29-day “residency” on Vanderbilt Avenue—near Barclays Centre, Atlantic Terminal and the Brooklyn Academy of Music.  Finally, it will trek up to my home borough—Queens—and my neighborhood, Astoria. At each location, the city’s Department of Transportation will grant access to a spot on the curb for 29 days.

The mini pod is free to use but requires an Oonee membership, which allows access by a key fob or mobile app.  

Although its scale, at the moment, is small, Stuart calls it “ powerful step forward.” He notes that this pilot marks “the first time any big city in the United States has had a secure bicycle parking facility on the curb.” He plans to expand his idea to other parts of the city and to cross the Hudson to Jersey City and other parts of the Garden State.

Pit Stops In The Pelican State

One of my recent posts is titled “Paint Is Not Infrastructure.” Too often, planners and policy-makers act as if painting lines on a road shoulder makes a bike lane, and that bike lanes are the beginning and end of bicycle infrastructure.

At least some folks in Louisiana understand as much and are enlisting business owners.  Bike Baton Rouge and Bike Easy, advocacy organizations in the state’s capital and largest city (New Orleans) are partnering to create a network of emergency pit stops for cyclists in their cities.

The two groups are working to secure sponsorships from ten businesses in each cities.  The money will be used to purchase emergency supplies that will be housed in bundles housed at the sponsors. 

The plan is to form a web of businesses where cyclists who need spare parts, air for their tires or even sunscreen can stop.

This, I believe, could help to ease the anxiety some people feel when they consider commuting or even recreationally.  As an example, I’m often asked, “What if you get a flat?” or “What about the weather?” when people learn that I pedal to work, school or anywhere else.

I also can’t help but to think that at least one business owner will see an opportunity.  If someone riding to work or school stops to pump a tire, get sunscreen or simply to rest at, say, a store, there’s a good chance that cyclist will return to shop.

An Eagle Lands At A Repair Station

As a transgender woman, it's ironic for me to say that I was once an altar boy--or Boy Scout. Today, they are known as "altar servers" and "Scouts."  But in my time, those positions, if you will, were open only to the young of the male gender.

Anyway, while I enjoyed some aspects of Scouting--which included the opportunity to earn merit badges for bicycling and reading, two things I have always loved to do-- I got distracted, if you will,  and therefore never attained its highest distinction:  Eagle Scout. However, Mason Tiller of Gulf Breeze, Florida recently achieved that milestone.

One requirement for attaining Scouting's highest rank is a community service project.  Tiller came up with something I wish I could've thought of:  building a bicycle repair station.  To do that, of course, he needed to find a spot, the necessary equipment--and funding, which he solicited from local businesses and individuals.

Whatever else one might think of Scouting, I think it's great that the definition of "community project" has expanded and that the role of bicycling doesn't begin and end with earning a merit badge. 

Note:  The article I linked has a paywall.  I wrote as much as I could about Mason Tiller, who deserves recognition for his efforts, as I could glean from searches.

These Bikes Could Emancipate Them, Too.

Yesterday was International Women's Day.  I'll repeat one of her most famous quotes:  "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling.  I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world."

Now I'll tell you what I think. Bicycling can do more to emancipate people than almost anything I can think of. People who use their feet to spin bike pedals rather than to pump gas pedals can free themselves from the costs--financial, physical and mental-health-wise and environmental--of excessive automobile dependency.

Also, I feel that cycling can change a person's outlook in other ways.  Though there's always that group of cyclists who's obsessed with having the newest and latest gear (I was once one of them!), I find that cyclists are, on the whole, more conscious of how and what they consume and less status-conscious than other people.  And, I like to believe, we are more socially conscious.

At least, we try to be. Like all people, we have our blind spots, individually and as a community.  One of those areas, I believe, is people with disabilities.  Sure, we can volunteer to take blind or deaf people on tandem rides or lead rides for those who have mild- to- moderate cognitive disabilities. (I am using terminology as I understand it.  If you are a professional in those areas, or simply more knowledgable than I am, please feel free to point out any inaccuracies.)  But, on the whole, cycling isn't very accessible to those who have impairments of one kind or another.

Among them are a group of people that, I blush to admit, I very rarely think about:  those who live with dwarfism. (I only recently learned that some consider it derogatory to call such people "dwarves."  Every now and again, a person with dwarfism will try a kid's bike and find it very unsatisfying.  I can't blame them:  Most kids' bikes aren't made to be responsive and, frankly, too often look cartoonish.  

Another, more important, reason why child-sized bikes don't work for adults with dwarfism is that they aren't built like children or scaled-down versions of average-sized adults.  For example, people with disproportionate dwarfism, or achondroplasia, have torsos similar in size to people without the condition, but shorter arms and legs.  So, while a child-sized bike might provide them with the proper seat height, if they ride it, they will be as cramped as if they were stuffed into a car trunk.

Designing a bike for a person with dwarfism is therefore difficult because, "You can't just lop bits off," says Steve Scott of  the Dwarf Sports Association.  That is what his father did for him mainly because there weren't any better alternatives.  His father motivated him to stay in the sport, but too many other people with dwarfism abandon it or never take it up in the first place because of the difficulties in getting bikes to fit, among other things.

Islabike Joni24

So Scott collaborated with Islabikes of the UK.  After several years of work, they've come up with the Joni 20 and 24 for adults and the Cnoc 14 and 16 for kids.  The numbers in each model name refer to the tire size, and the frames are proportionately sized.  The Joni is a 7-speed with a SRAM rear derailleur and trigger shifter; the Cnoc is a single-speed (freewheel) with a fully-enclosed chainguard.  In addition to their specially-designed frames, both bikes also have brake "micro levers" as well as cranks specially made in shorter lengths.

Islabike Cnoc 16

At the moment, the bikes are being sold only in the UK and for delivery in Europe. One hopes that they, or bikes like them, will become more widely available so that people with disproportionate dwarfism, wherever they are, can be liberated as Susan B. Anthony would have women, and all people.

Stacking Up

 Around 1980, “aerodynamics” became all the rage in bicycling.  Certainly, there are advantages in shaping parts to minimize air drag for some riders, particularly time trialists.  But studies have revealed that, for the most part, the benefits of aerodynamics accrue only to cyclists riding at more than a certain speed—45 KPH, if I remember correctly.

Still, that didn’t stop bike and component manufacturers from making “aerodynamic “ bikes and parts for loaded bike touring or even “aerodynamic” versions—which looked as if they’d wandered into a vise—of Huffy and Columbia ten-speeds sold in department stores. 

Now, it seems there is a trend in the opposite direction. At least one European team is making part of its rolling stock less aerodynamic.

I’m not talking about the bikes.  Rather, a new anti-aerodynamic principle is being applied to the team cars and vans that follow riders during major races.  Typically, these vehicles carry one or two spare bikes and, perhaps, some wheels and other parts.  But, lately, some teams have been stacking five or more bikes atop those cars and vans.

The reason, apparently, is to create a slipstream for the riders ahead of them.  Not only does a taller stack, like a higher wall, blocks more wind.  But, because the vehicle is moving, it pushes air ahead of it—in the direction of the riders.

As far as anyone knows, neither the Union Cycliste Internanationale (UCI) nor any other governing body has a rule against this practice.  If the UCI were to pass such a rule, I have to wonder if it will do as much to deter bad behavior as, oh, their anti-doping rules.

Acorn Bags: Nuggets Of Beauty And Function

Some would argue that a true artist, or even artisan, wants the focus to be on his or her work rather than him or her self.  They may have a point:  After all, while some (yes, I include myself) might be interested in the details of  Rodin's, Picasso's, Shakespeare's, Louis Armstrong's or Georgia O'Keefe's personal lives, what matters is the images, sounds and words they left us.

So I could understand Ron's wish not disclose his wife's name, or even his last name.  For the past fifteen years, they've done work that has, rightly, attracted attention in the cycling word--and outside of it. 

One day this past fall,  when I was crossing underneath the Hudson on the PATH train with Dee-Lilah, my custom 2018 Mercian Vincitore Special, two young couples asked me about the bike, with its lovely (if I do say so myself) paint finish, intricate lug work and a couple of nicely-made bags--or, if you prefer, pieces of bicycle luggage.

A male member of one couple, and a female of the other, seemed to be regular cyclists and wanted to know about the bike itself.  But the male member of the other couple--who told me he rides, but is "not a bike fanatic"--was interested in the bags because, he said, he's thinking of leaving his regular job and becoming a full-time maker of custom bags of all kinds.  He could see the workmanship on the bike's bag, he said, and was curious as to who makes such items.

A couple of weeks ago, when I pulled into a service station/convenience store on Point Lookout with Zebbie, my 1984 Mercian King of Mercia, someone asked about both the bike--which, while its lugwork isn't as intricate as Dee-Lilah's, has a unique paint job--and the bags I'd attached to it. 

In both instances, folks were curious about bags, or bicycle luggage, made by Acorn Bags in California.  I've been using them (along with Ruthworks Bags, which I've mentioned in previous posts) for about three years.  They haven't quite developed the "patina" canvas bags like it acquire because, since I have several bikes (and a bunch of bags), there isn't one, or even a set, that I use every day.  But I feel I've ridden the Acorn bags enough to comment on them.

First of all, I want to say that while they might seem expensive in comparison to mass-produced bags of synthetic materials,  Acorn's prices are actually quite reasonable, especially when you consider the materials used and the hand work that goes into making them.  

More important, the materials and workmanship on them are impeccable. The canvas is as strong as it is aesthetically pleasing, and the stitching is consistent and formidable.  Currently, Acorn's bags are made in three colors:  black, gray and brown.  Every couple of months, Acorn makes a run of bags in one of those colors.  They post a list of colors and anticipated availability dates on their website, so if you have your heart set on a particular color or model, sign up for their mailing list.

While I like all of their colors, my particular preference is for brown.  It looks both earthy and classy, like a leather bag or pair of boots made in a similar color.  Also, it's similar to a color in which Specialites TA-LaFuma bags were made for several years.  

I've been using their medium randonneur bag, front "bread box" bag and two of their saddle bags.  With the exception of their "bread box" bag, all are inspired by classic French and English designs.  It's hard not to notice the similarities between the Medium Rando bag on the front rack of Zebbie and its Specialites TA counterpart, the Medium saddlebag on that bike and the Berthoud "banana" bag, or the saddlebag on Dee-Lilah and some Carradice or Brooks designs.

But Ron and his wife don't seem content to copy traditional designs as much as possible.  They seem to have thought of how those beautiful, durable bags can be made more convenient.  For example, the Medium Rando bag can be used, with light loads, without a decaleur as long as you mount it on a rack like the Nitto M12 or M18 or Velo Orange racks with the "tombstone."  (The "bread box" bag is also designed to be ridden with such racks.) With somewhat heavier loads, you might want the decaleur, but I've managed to stabilize the bag with a small bungee cord attached hooked onto the D ring on either side and passed underneath the rack.  And, while I haven't tried it yet, I imagine that it might be possible to use the large saddlebag--with an exterior size and inner capacity like that of the Carradice Barley--without a support because of the ways in which the bag is reinforced in key spots.

The "breadbox" bag is somewhat smaller in capacity than--and, perhaps, not as "classic" looking as--the Rando bag. But one thing I really like about it is the way it fits on the rack:  Its profile almost perfectly matches the platforms on the Nitto M18 rack on Dee-Lilah or the Velo Orange Constructeur front rack on Zebbie.  And, its flap provides easy access to all of the bag's contents, though I advise tightening the elastic closure.

In all, I can confirm all of the good things you've read and heard about Acorn bags.  They are worthy of the finest handmade frame and will add a touch of class and personality to a mass-market bike. But, most important, Ron and his wife have managed to make functional improvements to beautiful classic bags--and to imbue them with the pride of true artisans and artists.

Food For Thought

Definitions of a good cycling diet have changed and diverged during my nearly-half century of dedicated riding.  Around the time I first started taking rides more of more than an hour from my family's home, Eddy Mercx broke the hour record in Mexico City on a day when he downed toast, ham and cheese--all of which he brought from his native Belgium--for breakfast.

Over the years, we've been told not to eat meat or dairy during a ride, or at all.  We've also been advised that we should consume carbohydrates and  everything from GORP (good ol' raisins and peanuts) to Himalayan foxtail millet cakes slathered with  yak butter touted as  the ideal cycling foods.  

Deep down, though, we all  know there's one food all cyclists--in fact, all people--love:

Aside from showing a woman eating a slice while cradling a box of pizza on her exercise bike, this photo is funny in other ways.  For one, it could only be from the '80's:  When else would someone wear sport an outfit or hairdo like hers?  Or wear a waist pack on an exercise bike?  

But eating pizza:  That's always permissible.  It's one of the few things that never goes out of style, among cyclists or anyone else!   

Riding In A Yellow Submarine

I'm not a fan of science fiction or books, films or TV programs about paranormal phenomena.  In spite (or maybe because) of that, one of my favorite TV programs of all time is The X Files, which ran from 1993 to 2002.  I mean, what's not to like about a program about two FBI agents--one of whose belief in the paranormal may have been influenced by his sister's claimed alien abduction, and the other a medical doctor and skeptic who is nonetheless a devout Roman Catholic.  I guess that's what I liked best about it:  I never would have envisioned such characters, but I found them--and, more important, their relationship, which changes over time--interesting and believable.

I got to thinking about that because, lately, there seem to be more reports than usual of unidentified objects. Perhaps the Russian invasion of the Ukraine has something to do with it:  Such as a conflict could escalate too easily, and who knows what kind of weapons might be sent where, and what they might look like.

Turns out, you don't have to look to the sky or even the sea for objects that, to someone, might look as if they pose a threat to national or international security.  At night, on the side of a lonely road, one might find--a yellow submarine? 

Or a spaceship?  That's what one driver thought, for a moment, he saw along US 41 on Florida's west coast.  

The spaceship/submarine was, of course, a recumbent bicycle:  one in which you ride in a semi-supine position.  I have never tried one myself, for the very reason the driver and investigating officer mentioned:  They can be difficult to see, especially in traffic.  I would like to try one some day because I can see the advantages of such a bike for certain kinds of time trials or land speed records--or for people who have the strength and endurance to pedal for long distances and periods of times but, because of injuries or infirmities, may have trouble mounting or straddling a more traditionally-configured bicycle. 

What made the bicycle really strange, I think, was the fairing, which is most likely for aerodynamics.  But if I ever try a recumbent, I'm not sure I'd want to ride with a fairing for the same reason I have no desire to get into a submarine, even if one of my favorite bands has sung that we're in one whether we like it or not!

He Doesn't Support The Invasion. He Just Wants To Build His Bikes.

French authorities have seized a cargo ship near the English Channel port of Boulogne sur Mer.  That vessel is owned by a Russian bank whose CEO is the son of his country's former chief intelligence officer and served as prime minister. At the other end of the country, les douaniers grabbed a Russian oligarch's superyacht parked for repair in a Mediterranean port.  The country's security officials believe that the boat's owner, as well as those of other vessels docked in the area, were preparing to flee to the Maldives, which doesn't have an extradition treaty with the US or most European countries.

In New York and London, officials exploring ways to take the co-ops, condos and other real estate owned by Putain-, I mean Putin-connected billionaires in those cities.  And measures have been taken to keep those uber-rich Russians from accessing their bank accounts, stock holdings and other assets.

Such moves make headlines.  So does talk about sanctions, though the actual and possible results of them aren't as widely known.  One reason is that those sanctions, which devalue the ruble and prevent Russian exports of everything from natural gas to vodka, affect everyday people who are mostly invisible to anyone outside of their communities and country.

Among those everyday Russians is Dmitry Nechaev.  You probably haven't heard of him, but you may have seen his work:  He custom-builds titanium frames under the name Triton. Perhaps not surprisingly, most of his sales are to cyclists outside of his home country. But, during the past twelve weeks, he says, he hasn't received a single foreign order.  

Although the sanctions--which prevent him from receiving payments via PayPal, among other things-- would explain the past couple of weeks, his sales drought began earlier, when rumors trickled out of Russia.  Even if he'd had orders, he wouldn't have been able to build frames because, like his frame-building peers in the US and other countries, he depends on foreign suppliers.  Paragon Machine Works, a frame-part supplier, could not ship to Nechaev and other Russian builders and manufacturers because Federal Express and DHL stopped shipping to Russia.

So Nechaev, who emphatically condemns the Russian invasion of the Ukraine (and is of Ukranian and Jewish heritage via his mother) realized that he could no longer work from his Sochi shop.  Because he holds an Israeli as well as a Russian passport, he fled to Tel Aviv last week.  He has bought a car to pick up fellow Russian refugees from the airport and plans to leave a note at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.

He plans to continue building his bikes, but he doesn't know where just yet.  It's difficult not to believe he's thinking of the USA.  In the meantime, he's asking for support from the industry.  Specifically, he appealed to the fact that he, like them and nearly everyone else, opposes the invasion and expressed hope that suppliers and customers in the US and other countries will continue working with him.

Made To Maim

 In many rural areas of the southern and western United States, the only way between Point A and Point B is a highway.  Cyclists and pedestrians therefore must share these thoroughfares with motor vehicles, including 18-wheel trucks, running at speeds of 60 MPH or more.

In some of those areas, as cycling has grown more popular, shoulders or lanes of those highways have been designated as bike lanes.  This causes resentment—and aggressive behavior—from motorists angry that cyclists are “taking “ their roads.

Sometimes the aggressive behavior includes driving that endangers cyclists—and, often, pedestrians and other drivers.  I’m talking about drivers who swerve into the lanes, brush by or throw debris at cyclists and shine their high beams into the eyes of cyclists riding in the opposite direction.

Other times, though, the aggression is more passive and includes breaking glass containers and leaving other hazardous debris in bike lanes. Some of the perpetrators may believe they are merely inconveniencing cyclists by puncturing their tires.  But from what I’ve seen and heard (especially from people who don’t know I’m a cyclist), some are trying to injure, or even kill, us.

How else can anyone explain leaving these on the bike lane of a Mesa, Arizona highway:

Several hundred of these spikes, called caltrops, were found in that lane—after a woman riding with a group flatted.  Fortunately for her and them, she was riding behind them at moderate speed.  But had she been riding in front of someone—say, if another rider had been “drafting” her—or riding at a higher speed, the results could have been catastrophic, given that the spike punctured her front tire.

I can’t help but to think that a more dire outcome was the intention of whoever left the caltrops:  Unlike broken glass and other kinds of debris, a caltrop always points one sharp spike upward from a stable base, no matter how it’s placed.

People have also reported finding these weapons of destruction on local hiking trails.  Tonto National Forest encourages anyone who finds them to report it to susan.blake@usda.gov  or 602-225-5200. Caltrops or other hazards in the highway bike lane should be brought to the attention of the City of Mesa.

The Law, In All Of Its Majestic Equality

In Le Lys Rouge (The Red Lily), Anatole France wrote, "La loi, dans un grand souci d'egalite, interdit aux riches comme aux pauvres de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans les rues et de voler du pain."  The law, he says, in all of its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor from sleeping under bridges, begging on the streets and stealing bread.

Inspector Javert, who pursues Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables, could have uttered that--without irony or sarcasm.  France, though, meant it as an indictment of folks like Javert and what they represent:  They might pursue justice "blindly," but the wrath of it falls more on the poor and otherwise vulnerable and marginalized:  Not only are we less able to defend ourselves if we're stopped, arrested or charged; we are more likely to be arrested and charged--or simply stopped and questioned--whether or not we committed any offense.

(Trust me, I know from whence I speak.*)

Moreover, those stops and arrests do little to nothing to enhance public safety and do little to nothing besides undermining people's trust in the police and the criminal justice system.  

The previous paragraph isn't my opinion, or that of a public defender or judge in the Bronx.  Rather, it's a paraphrase of the rationale a State Attorney in Hillsborough County--at the western end of Florida's I-4 corridor, politically one of this country's quintessential "swing" areas--gave for a new policy.

Six weeks ago, Andrew Warren issued a memo sent a memo saying that it's no longer appropriate to prosecute someone stopped on a bike if their only offense is that they resisted an officer without violence.  In that memo, he noted that while Black defendants make up a third of misdemeanor cases in the county, which includes Tampa, they represent 49 percent of all "resisting without violence" arrests.  And more than 70 percent of such cases that resulted from a bike or pedestrian stop had Black defendants--even though roughly one in five county residents is Black.

These findings did not surprise Black residents of the area, especially in light of a 2015 report documenting that Tampa police stopped disproportionate numbers of cyclists, 80 percent of whom were Black.  Those numbers were so egregious they drew the ire of the Department of Justice and helped to popularize the lament, "Bicycling While Black."

Warren's memo became the basis for his declaration that it is no longer appropriate to prosecute those stopped on bikes if their only charge is resisting an officer without violence, and as long as the "stop" is not related to some other, more serious, offense. While the number of affected cases, he admits, is small (about 40 or so per year), it will not tie up police time and other resources that could be deployed against crimes that are true threats to pubic safety, but also make, if in a small way, the criminal justice system fairer by not burdening poor and Black cyclists, most of whom are young, with criminal records for minor offenses.   

After all, the law, in all of its majestic equality, not only allows the poor as well as the rich, Black as well as White, and female as well as male (or genderqueer) to cycle or simply go about their business.  At least, it should. 

*--More than once, I have been stopped by police officers who had absolutely no reason to do so.  Once, in Lido Beach, Nassau County, the officer claimed I was "riding between cars'--where in the books such a law is embedded, I don't know--when, in fact, I was riding on the shoulder of the road, to the right of the two lanes of traffic.

Just Another Road Obstacle

In my decades of cycling, I've toured, commuted, road raced, ridden off road and done just about anything else one can do on a bike besides BMX or Polo.  And, on the roads and trails, I've encountered all manner of obstacles. They include include debris blown or thrown into bike lanes, mounds of snow, motor vehicles parked or idled and animals ranging from a chipmunk (I never would run over anything so cute!)  to a pack of  macaques and, of course, the random cat, dog or deer.  

(I have never had to stop for an elephant, but I did see one from about five meters away on a ride in Cambodia.)

Of all the living beings and inanimate objects that have found their way into my line of riding, I must say that I have never encountered any like this:

Now, tell me: What do you do when a tank is blocking your trading ride?  Do you turn around or ride around it?  If you choose the latter, do you curse at the driver or remind him/her/them to give you three feet (actually, a meter, since the cyclist is in Kyiv) of space?  Does a three-foot/one meter rule exist there? If it does, would a Russian tank operator adhere to it?