Nobody Uses Citibike Anymore Because Too Many People Use It

 When discussing bicycle- or "micro-mobility"-related issues, some people can't keep a metaphor or a story straight, let alone construct a cogent argument.

On Monday, I pointed out the malapropisms and simple lack of sense of a Manhattan community board member's objection to a bill that would require, among other things, licensing eBikes--even though I agreed, in principle, that it's not a good bill.  Likewise, while I and many other New Yorkers can point to problems with Citibike's service and equipment, the City Comptroller's review of it seems to be guided, as Streetsblog suggested, by Yogi Berra's observation about a restaurant:  "Nobody goes there anymore because it's too crowded."

On one hand, the report from Brad Lander--who has been mentioned as a possible successor to Eric Adams as this city's mayor--says that Lyft, the ride-share service that now operates the bike-share program, is no longer providing "reliable and equitable service."  On the other, it acknowledges that "Citibike enables millions of trips each month" and that in 2022, there were 30 million trips: "five times as many as when the city first launched in 2013."  Moreover, the report went on to say that preserving (Italics mine) Citibike as a "high-quality transportation service is essential."

Photo by Lindsey Nicholson 

 

So why did I italicize "preserving?"  Well, it's notable that  esteemed Comptroller used that word, and not "restoring" or some synonym for it.  While it's far from perfect, I would say--and the phrase at the end of my previous paragraph would indicate--that Citibike is at least pretty good at what it does.  Of course, my experience with it is very limited, but on the occasions when I used it, I could find a bike that worked reasonably well (not like my own, but that's a pretty high bar, if I say so myself) and a port in which I could leave and lock it without too much trouble.  Now, I only used Citibikes between my bike-rich neighborhood of Astoria and central locations in Manhattan and Brooklyn. So, perhaps, I never had to experience what elicits the program's sharpest criticisms, to which the report alludes:  that Citibike doesn't serve low-income neighborhoods and communities of color--or, for that matter, the borough of Staten Island.

Aside from the ways the report contradicts itself, Gersh Kuntzman of Streetsblog points out that it has another problem:  the report is based on only two months--June and July of 2023, when Lyft admitted that it was experiencing problems, especially in certain areas (mainly in the Bronx) and with theft--out of nearly five years of the company's operating the service.

They Won’t Obey The Law. So Why Pass It?

 

Community Board 6, Manhattan . Photo by Kevin Dugan for Streetsblog NYC.

People kill people. Therefore, laws against homicide and manslaughter are pointless.

Any lawyer who made such a statement probably wouldn’t be a lawyer for much longer. And anyone else who uttered it might be committed—or, in some places, elected.

While nobody in Manhattan’s Community Board 6–which includes the east side of the borough from 14th to 59th Street, one member of that wise and worldly body said something that is, at least to mind, just as logically flawed.

Or could it be that Jason Froimowitz has access that I lack to powers of reasoning. He was reactingto a bill, proposed by City Council Member Robert Holden, that would require, “ every bicycle with electric assist, electric scooter, and other legal motorized vehicle that is not otherwise required to be registered with the DMV, to be registered with DOT and receive an identifying number which would be displayed on a visible plate affixed to the vehicle.”

That sounds good on its face. But, perhaps not surprisingly for anything from Holden—who’s never met a cop or car he didn’t like—it’s not very well thought-out.  For one thing,  doesn’t address a legal loophole that allows moped buyers to leave the shop without registering the vehicle. So someone could buy a moped and the city would be none the wiser—and thus unable to enforce a mandate to plate.

The bill also does not acknowledge a major source of dangerous moped and ebike operation:  food delivery apps, which guarantee customers that their ramen will be delivered within 15 minutes or some similar time frame.  As it stands, delivery services and the restaurants that employ them face no penalties when their delivery workers maim or kill someone.

To be fair, requiring registration—from the point of sale onward—would make it easier to hold Doordash and their ilk to account, in part because the police will have one less excuse for not enforcing bans on motorized vehicles in bike and pedestrian lanes—and for not citing dangerous operation on the streets.

Froimowitz's objection to the bill, however, has nothing to do with the flaws I have enumerated.  Rather, he seems to think that passing any law to address the issue is pointless.  This would-be bastion of jurisprudential logic instead offers up this analogy as his reason for voting against the bill:

We currently require registration and license plates for motor vehicles in New York City and there is a prolific problem of vehicles obstructing, and removing, and defacing those license plates, so I fail to see how a solution requesting new implementation of  license plates would be effective. 

Before I proceed, I must say that I fail to see how a vehicle can obstruct, remove or deface a license plate.  And I am trying to wrap my head around "a prolific problem."  When someone or something is "prolific," they produce something in abundance, whether it's fruit from a tree or writing from a blogger.  A problem does not produce anything; it is produced and whatever produces it might be prolific if it is making more problems or anything else.

Now that I have pointed out the mixed metaphors and overall lazy use of language by a member of a community board that includes some of the city's most affluent and presumably best-educated residents, I will say, in fairness, that he is right on one count:  No regulation will stop all dangerous, discourteous and simply stupid behavior.  But to use that as a reason not to require registration and plating is a bit like saying that there shouldn’t be any restrictions on guns because someone, somewhere will find a way around them.

Humor In Translation

 Someone, I forget whom, pointed out that the French are funny, sex is funny and comedy is funny.  So, that person wondered, “Why aren’t French sex comedies funny?”

To be fair, doesn’t always translate from one culture to another.  But other thing do.  They include some things commonly associated with the French: berets, white shirts or blouses with horizontal navy stripes, mime and, of course, cycling.

So what happens when you combine them?

Perhaps some humor translates, aprés tout.

A Pacifist’s Ride For Veterans

 Today is Veterans’ Day.  It was formerly known as Armistice Day, and in other countries, it’s called Remembrance Day.

That last title is fitting.  It should be a day to remember—the living as well as those who are gone. 

As I once told my brother, I have become more pro-veteran as I have become more anti-war. Whether they volunteered or were conscripted, anyone who serves should never want for anything—including mental health care—again.

And I believe in honoring them in other ways—which can include taking a ride for a veteran who can’t. That’s what I’m about to do.

Not Going Gentle Into The Good Night Of This Date

After a great weekend of cycling, I had a busy and somewhat tumultuous couple of days.  They weren't bad:  I just didn't have any time for anything besides work, some business I had to attend to (more about that later) and, of course, cycling to it.

Today I will once again invoke my Howard Cosell Rule and write a post that's not about bicycles or bicycling.  Well, I'll briefly mention some of my riding but it will hardly be the focus of this post.

Instead, I want to talk about this date--9 November--which, as it turns out, is one of the most momentous and tumultuous in history, particularly that of the 20th Century.  

I'll lead off with the event that touches, if indirectly, on my cycling.  Some of my most memorable rides took me through the countryside and among the temples of Cambodia.  Seventy years ago today, the home of the Khmers and one of the world's greatest human-made structures gained its independence from France, the country that colonized it along with neighboring Laos and Vietnam.

Now, if you ever wanted proof that correlation does not equal causation (or, more precisely, that coincidence does not equal correlation or causation), consider this:  On that very same day, in 1953, Dylan Thomas ("Do not go gentle into that good night...") died in St. Vincent's Hospital, in the heart of Greenwich Village.  He had turned 39 years old a couple of weeks earlier and, as with any artist who dies young, legends and rumors grew around him.  One I often heard--but for which I could find no corroboration--was that he "drank himself to death in the White Horse Tavern."  Though he was a heavy drinker, he didn't suffer from cirrhosis of the liver.  He did, however, suffer from respiratory ailments and, a week before he died, a heavy smog that would kill 200 people enveloped New York.  

This date also witnessed two of the most important events in 20th-Century Germany. They both involved breaking things down, but nearly everyone saw one of those events as triumphant while the other would become a harbinger of one of the human race's worst tragedies.  

Joy, at least for a time, came for many people in 1989 when, on this date, the Berlin Wall was opened.  So, for the first time since the city's (and country's) partition by the US, Britain and France on the western side and the Soviet Union in the east.  Soon after, people who lived on both sides, and tourists, hacked away at the Wall for souvenirs.  Contrary to another rumor you may have heard, this event didn't inspire Pink Floyd's "The Wall," which preceded it by a decade.

But in contrast to those who gleefully broke those bricks away, the folks who shattered glass along the streets of Berlin, Vienna and other German and Austrian cities--on this date, in 1938--were angry, vengeful and hateful, stoked by a demagogic autocrat. (Sound familiar?)  While Kristallnacht, the "night of shattered glass" may not have been the opening salvo of World War II (I believe Japan's invasion of Manchuria, seven years earlier, was, but what do I know?) it almost certainly was, if not the beginning of the Holocaust, then its signal bell.  The kristall came from windows of Jewish-owned and -operated shops, and that night, 91 Jews were murdered, about 30,000 were arrested and more than 200 synagogues were destroyed. 

Olivia Hooker 

 

I invoke my Howard Cosell Rule to discuss important historical events and people because I have come to understand, at least somewhat, how necessary it is to commemorate them.  There are very few remaining witnesses to Kristallnacht, just as there were only a handful of living people who experienced the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 when I wrote an article about it.  That piece's publication on  Huffington Post brought me into contact with one of those survivors:  Olivia Hooker, who saw the bombings, shootings and destruction as a little girl.  She was 101 years old when that article appeared and we corresponded until her death two years later.  

Eve Kugler

 

I cannot pretend that I understand, let alone feel, what she or Eve Kugler, who was seven years old on that awful night when those windows were shattered “in the land of Mozart” have carried with them through the rest of their lives and, in the case of Olivia Hooker, whatever came after.  But Elie Wiesel has written that when we listen to witnesses, we become witnesses.  Perhaps that is the best I can do--and why I am invoking my Howard Cosell rule.

Rides On Both Sides Of Daylight Saving Time

We’ve just had a whole weekend…without rain! Saturday brought us skies overcast with silver, gray and white ripples, but none of the dark clouds that are harbingers of rain. I pedaled up to Greenwich, Connecticut. It was the last such ride I could start as late as I did—11 am—and return in daylight: At 2am Sunday, we set our clocks back by an hour.

The end of Daylight Saving Time meant that I’d have to start my Sunday ride—to Point Lookout—earlier.  I did, and when I arrived I was treated to a seascape of broken clouds and rippling sails that felt like an Alfred Sisley painting.  As I munched on my bagel sandwich, a lady named Ann, who probably is about a decade older than me, asked if she could sit by me.  

We chatted about one thing and another. Turns out, we have more than a few parallels in our pasts—including bike tours.  But she hasn’t been around the Point, where she and her husband live part-time, because “the bike I had here got wrecked by Sandy,” referring to the 2012 Superstorm. “And I never got around to replacing it.” I gave her a bit of a pep talk about getting another one. “Perhaps we’ll bump into each other again.”

That would be nice. I didn’t mind that she threw a wrench into my plans—the last 10 kilometers or so of my ride, from Forest Park, were in the dark. I had lights, but the reasons I didn’t mind included, not only Ann, but what I saw in Long Beach on my way back:

How An Elephant Got There…

In Animal Crackers, Groucho Marx quipped, “One morning, I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How an elephant got into my pajamas, I’ll never know.”

I have seen one elephant who wasn’t in a zoo or otherwise in captivity.  Even if I hadn’t seen that pachyderm, and even though I am, shall we say, a bit more corpulent than I was thirty years ago, I don’t know how an elephant could get into my pajamas—or on my bike.

Thanking One Of Our Friends

 He looks like a hippie who became a prep-school Latin teacher.  For me, that was his charm.

And it probably helped him to be effective at his job.

Since 1996, he could be seen with a bow tie between the wings of his shirt collar—and a fluorescent bicycle pin on the lapel of his blazer.

Perhaps not surprisingly, he’s been the best friend cyclists have had in the US Congress in, oh, a century or so. In addition to crafting legislation that allocated money for cycling and pedestrian infrastructure, and for making his hometown the “poster child” for livable, sustainable cities—at least among US cities—he helped to expand healthcare coverage through the Affordable Care Act, save over 100,000 restaurants during the COVID and—in something almost un-heard of these days— worked with a member of the opposing party to create a pathway to permanent legal status for Iraqi and Afghan nationals who directly supported US military missions in their countries.

Perhaps it will not surprise you to learn that he has represented Oregon’s 3rd Congressional District—which includes most of Portland.  In fact, he has been called “Mr. Portland.”

Earl Blumenauer has just announced that he is not running for re-election next year. I guess it is understandable:  Not only has he spent 27 years in Congress; he is 75 years old.

He has not been specific about his “next chapter.” The Democratic legislator said, however, that he plans to continue his work to “make communities more livable, people safer, healthier and more economically secure…without the burden of day-to-day politics.”

Thank you, Earl Blumenauer, for all you’ve done.  And I wish you well in whatever comes next.

Bike In The Bus Lane

One valid criticism of bike lanes, and bicycle infrastructure generally, is that they’re constructed mainly in gentrified or gentrifying neighborhoods. Whenever someone suggests that the lanes, bike parking facilities and bike share programs into neighborhoods populated by people who are darker or poorer than those in Williamsburg or Chelsea, the excuse for not “sharing the wealth ,” if you will, is that “people don’t ride bikes” in areas like Jamaica, Queens.

That is a point Samuel Santella makes on Streetsblog.  He lives in Saint Albans, a southern Queens community that is a “transportation desert:” it is not served by the New York City subway system and only a couple of bus lines traverse it. So, its residents—nearly 90 percent of whom are Black—either drive or, like Santella, ride their bicycles, whether to their destinations or to the subway in nearby Jamaica.  

Sound on for commentary pls 🙏 pic.twitter.com/HHzMHZhQSI

— Samuel Santaella 🚎🤝🚲 (@TransitNinja205) November 11, 2021

Many New York City neighborhoods like Jamaica have a “downtown” that is a commercial district and transportation hub. Santella, as he recounts in his piece, rides to Jamaica to take the subway to Brooklyn.  He shows how it’s difficult to cycle safely on any of the thoroughfares that lead to the train stations. Hillside and Jamaica Avenues are essentially “stroads,” while Archer Avenue has a bus lane that are, technically, illegal for cycling. And all of those streets are chaotic messes of delivery vehicles and “dollar vans” that ferry people from neighborhoods like his to the subway and Long Island Rail Road (yes, it’s spelled as two words) stations.

I know what he’s talking about: I sometimes ride those streets. As a matter of fact, I cycled them almost daily for seven years, when I worked at York College, in the middle of Jamaica.  I experienced some of the pandemonium he describes, which is undoubtedly worse than it was when I was making the commute in pre-pandemic, pre-Uber days when SUVs, while growing in popularity, didn’t dominate the roads as they do now.

Not Bolted Down

The Angkor Wat, which I visited five years ago, is definitely a marvel.  Of course, I was awed by its architecture, history, art and overall aesthetics, as well as its importance to the identity of a people--and the human race. But even if I didn't care about such things, and I concerned myself only with materialistic, quantitative and practical matters, I probably would have been just as awed as I was:  The temples were built without the use of cement, nails, screws or any other materials to fasten or bind the blocks to each other.  Rather, those stones were so precisely cut, and fit into each other so perfectly, that the temples have withstood a millenium (or more) of heat, humidity, torrential rains, wars, invasions and the ravages of the Khmer Rouge.

It doesn't take much for me to remember the Angkor Wat: It's one of those things you don't forget once you've seen and touched it.  But something in particular brought back, to my mind, the temples' construction. 

Since you're reading this blog, you've probably figured that something is a bicycle, or something that has to do with cycling.  But, aside from the fact that one can ride pedal to the monuments (I know, I did), what does a bicycle have to do with monuments built to Hindu deities and later re-purposed as Buddhist shrines?

Well, the bike in question is constructed without bolts.  At least, that's how it looks.

The two-wheeler in question is indeed a real bicycle--one that pedals, with no motors or other assists anywhere on the premises.  It's billed as the "world's most bespoke bicycle":  Not only is the frame fitted to the customer's exact measurements; so is everything that's fitted to the frame.  Some of those components, like the special-edition Brooks C 13 saddle, are modified versions of what you can buy in your local shop or an online retailer. But most of the other parts are custom-made.  As an example, crank arms usually come in lengths from 165 to 175 mm in increments of 2.5 mm. But for this bike, the length of the arms can be specified to a fraction of a millimetre.  Ditto for the handlebars and stem, which are 3D printed.

Also, the maker of this bike claims that it has the world's first fully integrated brake system:

Now, the way I spelled "millimetre" should give you a clue as to where this bike is made--and where you'll have to go if you want to be fitted for one.  Gaydon, a village in southern England, is home to, well, not much.  Nearby are the British Film Institute's National Archive (which includes some highly flammable nitrate films) and the former RAF V Bomber base.  Oh, and there is the British Motor Museum, home to the largest collection of historic British cars in the world.

That last fact is a clue as to who is involved in making the bike in question.

J. Laverack builds titanium bike frames nearby, and is teaming up with a local company to build the bike.  That other company is--wait for it--Aston Martin.

Yes, the same firm that made the vehicle--a DB 5--James Bond drove in 1964's Goldfinger.  The same firm that has had a Royal Warrant, since 1982, as a purveyor of motorcars (how British) to Prince Charles/King Charles III.  Why?  Because his wife simply would not be caught dead in a Mercedes-Benz.

All right, I admit, that last sentence was a tasteless joke.  But I couldn't resist. Well, OK, I could have but, really, why would I? However, I promise nothing like it again on this blog.  Really!

Anyway, the bike can be finished in any Aston Martin colour. After all, you can't have one vehicle clashing with the other.

Despues Del Dia De Los Muertos

 When I was growing up, this day—the one after Halloween—was known as All Saints’ Day.  

Then again, I was taught by Italian-American relatives and Irish and Irish-American nuns.  As hard as this may be to fathom, especially if you are, ahem, young enough to be a child I’ll never have, there weren’t any Mexicans in our neighborhood in the heart of Brooklyn. So I didn’t know about Dia de Los Muertos—the Day of the Dead—until I was well into adulthood.

So, today, in addition to enjoying nachos, I will celebrate this day by relishing the irony of some imagery I’ve seen.

Some people cycle to improve their health and prolong their lives. Perhaps the above image shows that it’s a good plan—or that some of us will never stop cycling!

On Wheels or Paws

Happy Halloween!

I have had six cats, including Marlee, in my life.   I love Marlee and miss the other five.  Each was beautiful and sweet in his/her own way.  

I must admit, however, that I've never had a black cat.  It's not a matter of fear or superstition:  All of my feline friends, except for the first Charlie, were rescues.  And he was part of a litter of kittens born to the cat of someone with whom I was taking a class.  So, in a sense, he, like the others, found his way into my life.

One of my few regrets is that I've never figured out how to ride with a cat.  Oh, when the first Charlie and Marlee were kittens, I could have carried them in a knapsack or something, but I'm not sure they would have liked it.  In a way, that might have been a good thing:  Having Caterina, Charlie I, Candice, Charlie II, Max or Marlee home while I was out--whether for a spin around the neighborhood, a day trip or a longer trek--gave me something to look forward to at the end of a ride.

Still, I wonder, what would it have been like to have one of them--or a black cat--on a ride with me?

 

One Ride, Two Trees

 Saturday brought near-record warmth: When I reached Greenwich, Connecticut—the destination or turnaround point, depending on your point of view—early in the afternoon, the temperature had risen to 81F (27C).  That is more or less normal for a day in June, or perhaps just after Labor Day.

Even if I hadn’t known it was near the end of October, the day’s warmth would have seemed incongruous with parents chaperoning their costumed kids to tables representing everything from the fire department to the local Democratic Party where volunteers gave them miniature candy bars. Tomorrow is Halloween, so the past weekend became the setting for Trick or Treaters, parades and parties.

Even stranger was seeing mid-to-late Fall foliage simmering in such heat.  On my way back, a tree in New Rochelle blazed, it seemed, as much from the summer-like air as the season itself.

How red can a tree be?

Now I wonder what it looks like today.  Some time around midnight, a storm pushed its way in.  The temperature plummeted and the rain and wind that soaked and strafed Sunday’s sky—and denuded the golden tree that greeted me early Thursday morning.

Taking One For The Humans

I don't drive.  So, if Marlee has ever been in a car, it was with her rescuer.

And I've tried taking her on rides with me.  If yo have a cat, you know how well that worked out.

Therefore, I have no idea of how she'd react to a pothole.  But she might know a thing or two about how we, as humans, might respond:

(By the way, those photos are not of Marlee.  She's been in other posts!)

Fall Rides: Colors, Everywhere

 The other morning, I couldn't get back to sleep.  So I went for an early before-work ride.

That's when I learned it's really Fall:

In other parts of my neighborhood, burgundy and orange leaves blaze against a crisply blue autumn sky.  But in the hour before dawn, nothing could have been more dramatic than those yellow leaves.

Of course, those aren't the only colors I've seen on recent rides.  Last week, I encountered this mural on 40th Avenue by the tracks, in a corner of Long Island City I don't often see:

And there was this, just after the seemingly-endless rains we had last weekend:

Wherever I ride in the Fall, I see colors, everywhere!

Les Freins Sur Jante Sont Morts. Vive Les Freins Sur Jante!

Tell me if I am the only cyclist who's seen a hundred articles or blog posts announcing The Death Of The Rim Brake.

I don't call myself a "retrogrouch":  At least one other blogger has laid claim to that title.  I also do not, however, use the newest and latest stuff just because it's the newest and latest stuff.  My bikes have steel frames (Reynolds), downtube shifters (except for my fixie), pedals with toe clips and straps, Brooks saddles, hand-spoked wheels and, yes, rim brakes:  dual-pivot side pulls on three of my bikes, single-pivot sidepulls (!) on two others and cantilevers on still another.

The reason I'm not making the switch is that the none of the cycling crashes or other accidents I've experienced had anything to do with braking power, or lack thereof.  Then again, I learned a long time ago to keep things in adjustment, replace cables and pads  before they seem to need replacing (every year or two, depending on the conditions in which I've been riding) and to clean my rims and brakes after wet or muddy rides. I use high-quality pads (Mathauser Kool Stop) and cables  employ good braking technique:  I usually anticipate my stops and apply the brakes accordingly.

Now, if I were riding carbon-fiber rims, I might understand the "rim wear" argument.  But even on a relatively light rim like the Mavic Open Pro, I manage to ride many, many miles (or kilometers) without significant wear.  And there might be other extreme conditions which I have yet to ride, and probably won't at this stage of my life, that could warrant disc brakes.

It works! (From Black Mountain Cycle)

But my dual pivots (Shimano BR- R650 and R451 and Dia Compe BRS 100), single pivots (Campagnolo Record) and cantilevers (Tektro 720) have all given me more than adequate stopping power.  Best of all, I can make adjustments or replace parts easily, whether I'm at home or on some backroad in Cambrai or Cambodia, without having to "bleed out" lines or deal with the other complications of disc brakes.

And, as much as I care about my bikes' aesthetics, they're not the reason I'm not using discs.  Actually, some of the discs themselves are rather pretty, and I suppose that in carbon or other modern configurations, the cabling and other necessary parts integrate well. But I still like, in addition to their pretty paint jobs, my bikes' clean lines which, in a sort of Bauhausian way, reflect the simplicity and elegance of their function.

Eben Weiss discusses the virtues I've outlined in his most recent Outside article--and how bike companies are squeezing rim brakes, for no good reason, out of the market.

Bike Share Program Comes To The Valley

 In the 1960s, anarchists painted bicycles white (Witte Fietsen) and left them on Amsterdam streets for anyone to ride. Some see it as the first public bike-share system.  Others argue that the French city of La Rochelle, during the following decade, started the bike-share movement when it made 350 yellow bicycles available for anyone who wanted to use them.  The contention that the La Rochelle's program was "first" is based on the fact that it was offered by the city government and thus the first to be sanctioned by any organized official body.

Anyway, the movement to make bicycles available to everyone at a nominal fee really took hold from about 2005 to 2015, when cities like Paris, Barcelona, Mexico City and New York started their schemes.  Since then, it has come to be associated mainly with such large metropoli. Lately, however, smaller municipalities have seen the benefits of making bicycles (and scooters) available and have begun, or are exploring, share programs of their own. 

 As an example, the Westchester County city of New Rochelle (which is named for the La Rochelle natives who settled there after fleeing the French religious wars) has had such a program for several years. Although much smaller in size and population, it shares some of the problems of New York City, about 18 miles to the south:  Its narrow streets and compact (some would say claustrophobic) downtown simply can't accommodate any more cars or trucks than already use it.  

I am very familiar with this landscape, if you will, because I cycle through New Rochelle whenever I ride to Connecticut or any point north of NYC on the east side of the Hudson River.  I am also somewhat familiar with Passaic, a New Jersey city I have ridden a few times.  Located about 20 miles (32 kilometers) west of New York and about the same distance north of Newark, it has roughly the same population as La or New Rochelle and an old (for the US, anyway) downtown district and infrastructure first developed before automobiles. 

So, perhaps, it's not surprising that the city is also exploring a bike share program* which, they say, will be modeled at least in part on New York's Citibike (which has expanded into Jersey City and Hoboken). Passaic, named after the river that forms part of its valley, has been mainly a working-class industrial city:  It saw what was, at the time, one of the largest labor strikes in history when textile workers walked off their jobs in 1926.  The city--whose name means "valley"--also was the corporate headquarters and main manufacturing facility for Okonite, which made the some of the first telegraph cables and the wiring for Thomas Edison's first power generating plant (on Pearl Street in NYC).  And it has been called "the birthplace of television" as the experimental station W2XCD transmitted its first signal, in 1931, from the DeForest Radio Station in the city. Its chief engineer, Allen DuMont, left the station a few years later to start the pioneering television manufacturer and the first commercial television network:  DuMont Laboratories and the DuMont Television Network.

So, one might say that bike share programs are like the tech industry:  they're not just in the city (e.g., San Francisco); they're also in the valley.

*--I have tried to link an article about this, but it's behind a paywall: 

 https://www.northjersey.com/story/news/passaic/passaic-city/2023/10/25/passaic-explores-bike-sharing-system-to-help-ease-parking-shortage/71300087007/

Why You Should Be Worried About Him

 For this post, I am going to invoke my Howard Cosell Rule.  That means this post won’t be about bicycles or bicycling, at least not directly.

As you’ve probably heard by now, Mike Johnson has been elected as Speaker of the US House of Representatives.  That means he is, after Joe Biden and Kamala Harris, next in line to become the President.

Kevin McCarthy, the ousted House Speaker embodied a particular kind of venality that happens when mediocrity and ambition comes within reach of power. He wanted to be Speaker because he wanted to be President, but he had to know, deep down, the Speakership was as close as he’d come to it.

But his lust for power isn’t the reason why his fellow Republicans, who make up the majority of the House ousted him. They weren’t happy that he was willing to make a deal with Democrats in order to pass a  budget and prevent a government shutdown.  And some felt that he wasn’t sufficiently loyal to Trump/MAGA supporters who are no longer a “wing” of the Republican Party: They, along with white Evangelical Christians and conservative Catholics, are the Republican Party.

Which is why they chose Mike Johnson.  He—who played an important role in the attempt to overturn the 2020 Presidential election—is  an Evangelical Christian Nationalist who wants to turn this country into Gilead. He wants to not only outlaw abortions but also to arrest, prosecute and imprison women who have them.  And, not surprisingly, he wants to rescind any laws that enshrine LGBT equality.

Johnson and his ilk have developed a symbiotic relationship with the Trump/MAGA folks:  Their support of Israel will hasten the coming of the Kingdom of God they want—or so they believe.

One thing both groups have in common is their support of the fossil fuels industries—which, not surprisingly, donate generously to their campaigns—and antipathy to anything “green” or “sustainable.”  That is why their attitudes toward cycling range from indifferent to hostile.

Even if their anti-cycling, anti-LGBT, anti-woman policies weren’t bad enough, the fact that Johnson is, as the saying goes, only two heartbeats away from the Presidency is almost as terrifying as the prospect of a convicted felon returning to the Presidency.

Not The Chain Reaction They’d Planned

 We love to patronize our favorite local bike shop.  But I—and I am sure many of you—have bought stuff from an online retailer (or their predecessors—mail-order catalogues—remember those?) oh, once or twice.

One of the local dealers I patronized (until it wasn’t so local for me anymore) said he couldn’t blame people for buying parts from Performance or Bike Nashbar.  “Their prices are better than what I can get from my distributor,” he lamented.

Performance and Nashbar are in the tire tracks of history.  Now,’it seems, two more recent giants the online bike business may join them.

In 2016, Chain Reaction Cycles, based in Belfast, Northern Ireland and Wiggle, in Portsmouth in England’s south coast, merged. At the time, to join two companies that were already offering good deals on in-demand bikes, parts and related items into one that would have even greater buying power and would therefore offer even better deals to customers.

But another event that same year would contribute to the company’s current situation: the vote to secede from the European Union, a.k.a. Brexit. (Scotland voted to stay.) The “divorce” was finalized, if you will, at 23:00 GMT on 31 January 2020.

One effect has been higher tariffs, not only on imports to, but also exports from, the UK.  The latter included, in the years before the “breakup,” many orders from outside the country.  They included customers from EU countries—and, on a few occasions, yours truly.   American customers didn’t have to pay the Value Added Tax.  So, when the exchange rate was favorable to the dollar, I purchases not only Brooks saddles, but also French Mavic rims and Velox rim taped, Swiss DT spokes, German Continental tires and even Japanese Shimano cassettes for considerably less than I could have bought them Stateside.

The UK-EU split came early in the COVID pandemic. So, some of the losses Wiggle-CRC incurred from prices increasing for European customers were offset by the COVID bike boom.  That “boom,” however, seems to be going bust.  At least, people aren’t buying as many bikes and parts as they were three years ago.

According to industry insiders, Wiggle/CRC’s parents company, Sigma Sports United is “re-structuring” —which includes, among other things, ending its relationships with “underperforming assets” like Wiggle/CRC—and therefore de-listing from the New York Stock Exchange.  Those same insiders are saying that Wiggle-CRC has stopped paying its suppliers and intends to file for insolvency.

From what I’ve been reading and hearing, they’re not the only ones who have “buyer’s remorse” over Brexit.

This Blog, Explained

 Here is an illustration of the philosophy of this blog—and an explanation of its title:

He Gave The Kids Bikes. His Reward: His Shop Was Torched

 Even if I’ve grown more cynical about the human race—which is an occupational hazard of being in, ahem, midlife—I have continued to believe that bicycles and bicycling can bring people together.  After all, I have seen people from almost every set of circumstances imaginable on bikes.

And, although I have neither had nor wanted children, I believe that people and societies are no better than how they treat children (and old people)—and those who try to help them.

So, one bit of news out of Taibe, an Arab Israeli town, shocked and saddened me.

A week ago, Alaa Amara was asleep, with his phone silenced. One could understand if he wondered whether the news he received after walking was a bad dream.  Of course it wasn’t—but he wasn’t surprised.

A few days earlier, Amara, an Arab Israeli who owns a bicycle shop, decided to help evacuees from Gaza-adjacent communities. He told the Times of Israel that his friends “gave them items, food, they had what they needed.” The children, however, “didn’t have anything to do, no school,” he noticed.

So he brought a donation of 50 children’s bicycles. “I did it to benefit the children. They don’t know about war,” he explained.

Images of him delivering the bikes appeared on social media. They won Amara a champion in Yosef Haddad, an Arab Israel commentator who is pro-Israel and therefore controversial, to say the least.

Oh, and the children are Jewish.  That, and Haddad’s endorsement, put a target on Amara and his business.

Which is why the news he got last Saturday didn’t surprise him:  While he slept, his shop was torched.

A friend has set up a Pay Pal account and a crowdfunding effort has raised, so far, 550,000 Israeli New Shekels (about USD 137,000). Amara estimates damage at NIS 800,000 and he had no fire insurance. So, while donations could increase, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do next. If he opens another bike shop, it will be elsewhere, he said. “I am afraid to be in Taibe now,” he said.

(N.B. Please do not take anything I’ve written as an endorsement of one “side” or another in the conflict.  As Alaa Amara and his situation show, the background of the conflict is too complicated to be reduced to “sides” and has as much to do with colonialism, from outside as well as within the region, as any current grievances.)