A Cycling Bond?

 If I had given or received this, would I (and/or someone else) be married today?

Glissante Lorsq’il Est Mouillé

 He acknowledged that he did “quite some beautiful sightseeing” during a bicycle ride in Paris. But he also complained about street conditions at the beginning and end of that ride.

I imagine that he had good reason, even though—in my experience, anyway—streets in the City of Light are in better condition than those in my hometown of New York. The rider in question, you see, wasn’t a tourist and sightseeing wasn’t the purpose of his trek.  He was pumping and spinning his way through the Olympic time trial. Oh, and less than a week ago, he finished third in the Tour de France.

R

Remco Evenepoel in the Tour de France

Remco Evenepoel lamented the poor road conditions during the first and last few kilometers of the 32.4 kilometer time trial, which began this morning near the Eiffel Tower, headed east towards the Place de la Bastille and the Polygone de Vincennes before looping back into the city and finishing at the ornate Pont Alexandre III—in the rain that has fallen almost continuously since yesterday’s opening ceremonies.

That precipitation may have made things even dicier for the mountain bike racers. Nino Schurter, who won medals in the previous two Olympics, said the gravel on the manmade course 40 kilometers outside Paris was “quite loose.” He added, “If you go fast, it’s quite slippery.”

This Fix Is A First

The other day I wrote about the obstacles , financial and logistical, that caused BCycle, Houston’s bike sharing network, to shut down.

What was not said—but was, I believe implied—was the difficulty of keeping the bikes running. When share bikes need repairs, they usually are brought to the share network’s central office or shop. That, of course, adds significantly to the amount of time the bike is out of service, especially if the problem needing repair develops in a part of the city far from headquarters.

Photo by Dave Sidaway for the Montreal Gazette 

One bike share program aims to remedy that problem. Bixi, Montréal’s bike share program, is trying what it believes to be a “first,” at least in North America. Yesterday, it opened its first “Carrefour Bixi”: a mini-bike repair shop connected to a larger docking station. It’s located at Parc La Fontaine, where Bixi is especially popular because of its proximity to both the city’s popular tourist attractions and its central business district.

Bixi plans to open several more Carrefours in other areas where Bixi is popular. Those stations will mainly handle small repairs like flat tires or brake and gear adjustments, which account for the majority of repairs.  More serious fixes will continue to be done at Bixi headquarters.

A New Totem?

 Not long ago, if you saw a wooden likeness of a Native American outside a storefront, the establishment inside was more than likely a cigar shop or tobacconist.

The new equivalent of the “cigar store Indian” is a bicycle, or a likeness of one, festooned with flowers and ferns. But smoking isn’t allowed (at least here in New York City) in the sort of business this new totem most often signals: a café.

I saw this one during my early morning ride.  It was, at least, a bike I recognized: a Raleigh Colt. Like the classic Raleigh 3-speeds, it came with 26 inch wheels and Sturmey-Archer hubs. The main difference, it seemed, was that the frame design was tweaked (the boy’s version is a “camelback”) to allow for a smaller frame on full-sized wheels.

Anyway, I thought the café Colt was just another decoration until I got a second glimpse.

The flowers aren’t attached to the bike, and the rear tire is flat. I wondered whether someone had abandoned the bike there.  Or do the café’s owners bring it inside at closing time?

Will Bike Share Return to Bayou City?

 

Photo by Gail Delaughter, Houston Public Media

Houston, Texas is the fourth-largest city in the United States. At the end of last month, it became the largest without a bike-share network.

To put that into perspective, New Rochelle, New York—a city a few miles from my apartment—has a bike share network. And for every resident in “The Queen City of the Sound,” approximately 30 live in “Bayou City.”

Houston BCycle launched in 2012 and, like most other bike-share programs, became popular. Some say that it became a victim of its success. BCycle board member James Llamas told Houston Public Media that as  BCycle tried to grow from a mainly recreational service to one that could serve as an alternative and equitable mode of transportation, its business model—which relied on user and sponsorship revenue—proved unsustainable. The nonprofit network sometimes received support from Harris County Commissioner Rodney Ellis and the city, but it wasn’t steady enough to cover budget shortfalls.

Under a previous group of Metropolitan Transit Authority of Harris County (METRO) board members, there had been a plan to operate a new bike-share program operated by Quebec-based PBSC Urban Solutions. But new leadership recently took Metro’s reins and a spokesperson said the plan is “under review.”

I haven’t been to Houston in a long time. But if it’s anything like the city I remember, it needs a bike share program that is a viable transportation option as much as any city needs it. While, from what I’ve read and heard, the availability and reliability of the city’s bus system has improved greatly—and there are a few light-rail lines (none existed when I was there), it’s still—like most US cities south of the Potomac and west of the Appalachians—very difficult to live and work without a car. For one thing, unlike cities like Boston, Paris and my hometown of New York, it sprawls and annexes far-flung suburbs and rural areas. For another, its planning has prioritized driving: Much of METRO’s jurisdiction includes High Occupancy Vehicle (HOV) lanes.  And, as one resident explained, in “H-Town” and its surrounding area, “sidewalks are a luxury.”

If and when Houston gets a new bike-share network, it will be starting from scratch: BCycle’s bikes, docking stations and ancillary equipment —from pickup trucks to soap dispensers—are up for auction.  All items are sold “as is” and are, as Scott Erdo, the city’s Asset Disposition Department division manager admits, “in various states of disrepair.” He cautions, “Buyer beware.” Bids on bikes start at $10: only $2.50 more than a one-hour ride on BCycle.

One can only hope that the auction will help to bring a new, and possibly improved, bike share system to a city that really can use it.

Ban ‘Em All! Let Trump Sort ‘‘Em Out!

 Before firing the shot that grazed Donald Trump’s ear, Thomas Matthew Crooks (Can you think of a better name?) scoped out the area around the rally—on his bicycle.

Oh, and we’ve all seen videos of President Joe Biden wobbling and falling off his Trek.

What does that mean? For the first time in US history, a bicycle was involved in endangering the lives of both major-party candidates in a Presidential elections.

Bicycles! We all know they’re a Green Commie Chinese device to undermine national security. Therefore…We simply must ban them.

Of course you know, dear readers, that I would never propose anything so outrageous. Rather, it’s the premise of a Washington Free Beacon editorial.  

Its author, Andrew Stiles, clearly labels his work as “satire.” As such, it’s very good—even if, as I suspect, he is lampooning his and the WFB’s editorial board’s idea of what cycling, recycling, gender-“changing” pinkos like me think about guns. 

Another school shooting. Ban all guns.

For the record, I am not at all in favor of outlawing firearms. I have not so much as handled one in more than four decades. But I understand that if I were to pick one up, I won’t be on a slippery slope to shooting up a shopping mall.

Two of my uncles were hunters. I have been in rural homes where the meat in the freezer came from a family member’s skill with using a rifle that was propped against a wall. And, as the matriarch of one such family pointed out, in a remote area like hers, it could take the police an hour to arrive in response to an emergency call. That is, if they can even get to a house like hers, which may not be accessible from a paved road.

So, of course I don’t favor, any more than Bernie Sanders, “taking everyone’s guns away.” I do favor, however, stronger safeguards against unbalanced people getting their hands on weapons of war.

That said, I also think that to keep kids safe, we need to post copies of the Ten Commandments in every classroom*—just as we need to Andrew Stiles’ proposal to keep this country—and its presidential candidates—safe.

*—I would love to hear how a teacher might explain #7 to a second-grader.

A Ride With A Real Cyclist

 So…What’s it like to ride with the guy next door?

I found out, sort of this past Sunday: I took a spin with a man who lives a few floors below my “penthouse.”

That I have been riding nearly every day hasn’t gone unnoticed by other residents of my senior (don’t tell anybody!) residence. One, whom I’ll call Sam* asked whether we could “just go out and ride, to no place in particular.” Not knowing him, I wasn’t sure of what to make of his proposal. Not knowing any other cyclists—or anyone else—very well, I thought “Why not?”

So, our journey—me, on Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear bike and him, on a Roadmaster ATB he bought on Amazon, began around 9 am. I took him up to Mosholu Parkway, where a bike-pedestrian lane splits the shoestring park that splits the north from the south side of the road. Riding west takes you to Van Cortlandt Park. We went east—not very far—to Southern Boulevard and the Botanical Garden gate. It allowed us to bypass two very busy intersections where traffic enters and exits a highway, and enter the Bronx Park path to Pelham Parkway. 

I took him along what has become one of my early morning rides to City Island. He’d been there before, he said, but not on a bike.

From there, we pedaled back over  the bridge to Pelham Bay Park,which is three times the size of Manhattan’s Central Park. From there, I took him through neighborhoods that line the Hutchinson and Bronx Rivers and Long Island Sound. (One of those neighborhoods is, believe it or not, called “Country Club.”) 

The day grew hotter and the sun bore down on us. He seemed to take the weather better than I did, but he said he was impressed with my riding “on a bike you can’t coast.” 

I must say that I had all the more reason to be impressed:  He simply wanted to keep on riding. Whatever his bike or strength, that told me he is certainly a cyclist at heart.

When we reached SUNY Maritime College, he confessed that he, a lifelong Bronx resident, had never seen it—or, more important, the rather scenic waterfront—before. He also had never been in Country Club, with its huge houses, some of which wouldn’t look out of place in “The Great Gatsby.” After our ride, I realized that while he is a Bronx “lifer,” he rarely, if ever, had seen anything east of the Bruckner Expressway. That made me think of my experience of living in Brooklyn until I was 13: I really didn’t know anything beyond my immediate neighborhood until I returned as an adult. As I once told somebody, I’d crossed the ocean before I’d crossed Ocean Parkway.

A journey takes you to some place where you’ve never been, where it’s on the other side of the world or a part of your home—or yourself—you’ve never seen before. For me, that—and not the number of miles or kilometers or how much time —is cycling. And, I feel that is what I experienced on a ride with a new neighbor.

*—I have given him a pseudonym because I’m not sure of how much he would want me to reveal about him.

Real Winners In Paris

Imagine this:  After bringing glory to your country, you can’t go home.

That is the dilemma Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi could face.

Actually, the two sisters haven’t been home in three years. They’ve been training in Switzerland for this year’s Paris Olympics. How they got there is exactly the reason why they can’t return their native land.

Yulduz (l) and Fariba Hashimi

In 2021, they fled the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan on an Italian evacuation flight. They were joined by, among others, three young people who would become their Olympic teammates. 

In Italy, they received proper coaching for the first time. “Back in Afghanistan, we didn’t have professional training,” says Yulduz. “All we used to do was take our bikes and ride.”

That isn’t nearly as idyllic as it sounds. Their bikes were borrowed and they trained and raced—and won—in disguise and under false names. When stories about them appeared in the local media, their parents begged them to stop. People drove rickshaws and cars, and threw stones, at them.

They were not only in one of the most restrictive countries for women and girls, they were in one of its most remote and conservative areas: Faryab province. As if that, and the lack of coaching. weren’t formidable obstacles, they were working from yet another disadvantage. Yulduz, now 24 years old and Fariba, 21 didn’t even mount a bicycle for the first time until they were 17 and 14, respectively. When they arrived in Italy, they were training with, and competing against cyclists who started pedaling not long after they learned how to walk.

Although few believe they will win a medal, I—and,

I suspect, more than a few other people—wouldn’t be too surprised if they did, given what they’ve overcome and sacrificed.

Whatever the results of their races, they will vindicate the International Olympic Committee’s maneuvering. According to IOC rules, a country must choose its team members without political interference. That, of course, wasn’t going to happen with the Taliban in power: Women aren’t allowed to do much besides bear children and keep a household, never mind compete in sports. 

The IOC talked, behind the scenes, with Afghan sports officials—some of whom live in exile—about putting together a special team to represent Afghanistan in Paris.

 For once, I applaud the wheeling and dealing of the IOC, an organization whose level of corruption rivals the UCI and FIFA. Their work work means two Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi’s presence in Paris is a victory, whatever the results of their races.

Good-Bye, Papa Elf!

 The man in the rear was playing his favorite role. 

Bob Newhart was Papa Elf in “Elf,” the 2003 Christmas classic. 

Although he wasn’t “playing himself,” I think his portrayal of Papa Elf tapped into the dry curmudgeonly humor of the personae he created in “The Bob Newhart Show” and “Newhart.”

Sadly, there will be no more from him: He passed away today, at 94 years old. Somehow, though, he will always seem to be, like his characters, in midlife: He was almost there when his career in comedy finally took off.

A Year And 500 Miles

 In a previous post, I said that the easiest way to get away with killing someone in North America is to run over a cyclist or pedestrian with a car, truck or other motorized vehicle.  For one thing, dead victims can’t testify for themselves. For another, planning, policy and law enforcement have prioritized moving vehicular traffic as quickly and efficiently as possible. Cyclists and pedestrians are seen as “getting in the way” of that goal. And, oftimes, law enforcement officials simply don’t care.

So—call me a cynic—I am surprised when a reckless driver faces justice for ending one of our rides—even if said driver is impaired or can be shown to have intended harm or was simply negligent.

Therefore, learning that Jessica Hendrickson was arrested yesterday in western Kentucky seemed almost fantastical. Surveillance cameras placed an alert on her vehicle tag, locating her at Exit 86 on Interstate 24. There, Oak Grove police apprehended her.

She struck and killed 61-year old Navy veteran Jeff Nichols—on 10 June 2023 near Pensacola, Florida. In other words, she was on the run for more than a year after killing a cyclist about 500 miles (800 kilometers) from where she was taken into custody.

According to the Western Kentucky Star, she is being “lodged” (Don’t you love that term?) in the Christian County Jail. She faces a charge of being a fugitive from another state.

Will Donuts Destroy This Shop?

 Some cyclists—racers, mainly—would never, ever touch a donut. Others see them as a quick and tasty source of energy.

I’ll admit that I’ve had a donut or two before or during rides. So I won’t judge you if you have.

If bikes and donuts are beside each other, I suppose they could be mutually beneficial for business. At least, a bike shop or lane might bring business to a donut shop. On the other hand, there are instances in which donuts aren’t good for a bike shop.

The kinds of donuts I’m talking about aren’t Dunkin’ or Krispy Kreme, cinnamon or Boston Cream. Rather, I am referring to an automotive stunt that involves rotating the rear or front wheels in a continuous motion around the opposite set of wheels. The goal seems to be to leave a circular skid mark of rubber and leave smoke from friction.

Of course, anyone engaging in such stupidity probably will feel the need to do it at as high a rate of speed as possible. That increases the chances of the driver losing control, sometimes with tragic consequences.

A donut “sideshow” didn’t cost John McDonell his life. But it may have cost him his life’s work—or the last 13 years of it, anyway.

During that time, he has owned and operated Market Street Cycles in San Francisco. For a few years, business was very good: The shop stands at the intersection of Market, Page and Valencia Streets, all of which have bike lanes. Thus, the establishment profited from being along one of the city’s busiest bicycles commuting routes.

That is, until the COVID-19 pandemic struck.  San Francisco was under one of the hardest lockdowns in the US. Even after it was lifted, bicycle—and vehicular—traffic never resumed. According to McDonell, there’s “less than one-third of the traffic” that passed the shop pre-pandemic. “There’s no downtown, there’s no commute anymore,” he lamented.

Since then, his shop and other businesses in the area have been plagued with robberies.  But the coup de grâce may have come early yesterday morning, when a driver doing “donuts” smashed into his shop. The 57-year-old shop owner says he’ll probably close permanently. “I’m too old for this shit,” he said.

Haring What I’m Seeing

 Seen during an early morning ride in New York:

4500, Le Quatorze

 In France, this day isn’t called “Bastille Day.” Instead, it’s known as “Fête Nationale” or “Le Quatorze” (The 14th).

Bonne Fête Nationale! Joyeux Quatorze!

At least (from my point of view) the French can celebrate something that I hope we in America can later this year: They kept a far-right government from taking power in their country.

And what can I celebrate besides my Francophilia? Well, this is Post Number 4500 of Midlife Cycling.

Howard Sutherland R.I.P.

 Yesterday I wrote about how, in the old days (You get to say things like that in midlife!), when putting together a bicycle drivetrain, you didn’t have to worry much about compatibility. One company’s derailleurs worked with another firm’s shift levers, and it didn’t matter how many cogs were on your freewheel.

The bad news was that such compatibility didn’t extend to other parts of the bicycle. There was—and is—a dizzying array of seatpost diameters, for example. Oh, and good luck finding a replacement for that “Swiss” threaded bottom bracket. Velo Orange offers modern sealed bearing bottom brackets in it and other “obsolete” configurations, but they might not fit your crank.

Back in the old days (!) many bike shop employees and owners weren’t aware of those, and other (non)compatibility issues. And when the ‘70’s Bike Boom exploded in the States, shop mechanics and managers came across bikes and parts they’d never seen before and didn’t know what they needed in order to assemble or repair them.

A certain mechanic was working at the Missing Link Bicycle Cooperative in Berkeley, California. Henoticed the problems I’ve described and how grappling with them was keeping shops from running more efficiently—which, he thought, was keeping people from enjoying cycling.

So what did he do? He compiled data on all sorts of bike parts and wrote a book he self-published.

If you’ve worked in a bike shop during the past half-century, you’ve used it or its six subsequent editions. Even if you haven’t worked in a shop, you might have owned and used it.

If Tom Cuthbertson’s “Anybody’s Bike Book” was an my introduction to bike repair, then Howard Sutherland’s “Handbook for Bicycle Mechanics” brought my knowledge and helped to elevate my skills to a shop level. It’s often been called the bike mechanic’s “bible.”

The first edition of Cuthbertson’s book came out in 1971, at the dawn of the Bike Boom. Sutherland published the first edition of his volume two years later, as the Boom was nearing high noon, if you will. Such books were very important for American cyclists and bike shops because much generational or institutional knowledge had been lost during the previous half-century or so when few American adults cycled. Much of that knowledge survived in Europe and Japan, where people cycled for transportation and recreation. But, in those days before the Internet, it was difficult to find.

So cyclists and bike mechanics certainly owe a debt of gratitude to Howard Sutherland, who passed away last month at 75. A memorial service will be at 10 am (Pacific time) today in the Berkeley City Club.

Fun fact: He had a brother who predeceased him and a sister who survives him. Their names? Mac and Beth. You’d think their parents were Shakespeare scholars or actors.

As Smooth As Friction

• SunTour VGT rear derailleur 
• Shimano Titlist front derailleur 
• Huret shift levers (similar to Simplex retrofriction )
• Stronglight 93 crankset and chainrings 
• SunTour Pro Compe freewheel
• Sedis “sedicolor” chain (gold, to match the freewheel!)

• Huret Jubilee rear derailleur 
• Campagnolo Super Record front derailleur 
• Simplex retrofriction (“teardrop “) levers
• Campagnolo Super Record crankset and chainrings 
• Maillard 700 freewheel 
• Regina chain

So what do those two lists have in common? Each of them comprised the drivetrain on one of my bikes. The first ran on an iteration of my Peugeot PX-10 when I repurposed it as a touring bike. The second graced the Colnago Arabesque I rode for much of my inglorious racing career!

One thing you’ll notice is that neither set was composed entirely of parts from the same company. Until the mid 1980s, that was the norm, as no component manufacturer—not even Shimano or Campagnolo—offered a truly complete “gruppo”: Neither company’s lines included chains, and Campagnolo didn’t offer freewheels.

Another reason why most were casseroles , so to speak, rather than purées is that, for the most part, one firm’s derailleurs could be used with another’s shift levers, freewheels, chainrings and chains. It also didn’t matter if you switched from, say, a six- to a seven-speed freewheel: As long as your derailleurs could handle the range (smallest to largest cogs) and the total gear difference (the combined range of your front chainrings and rear sprockets), it didn’t matter that the other parts weren’t from the same maker.

That all changed 40 years ago, when Shimano introduced SIS: the system with shifters that “clicked.” It

worked extremely well—as long as your freewheel (or cassette) cogs, chain, derailleurs, shifters and cables were all Shimano SIS. (Many of us soon discovered that Sedisport chains worked as well as, and lasted longer than, Shimano’s offerings.) By the end of the decade, nearly all new bikes had SIS or its variants, two of which I’ll mention. “If it doesn’t click, it won’t sell,” became a bike industry mantra.

Seemingly in a panic, Campagnolo and SunTour offered their own “click shift” systems. (SunTour actually made one in 1969. It reportedly worked well, but the still-relatively-small derailleur-equipped bike market wasn’t ready for it.) Both failed—Campagnolo’s Syncro system was panned as “Stinkro”—for essentially the same reason. While Shimano designed an integrated system, it seemed that Campagnolo and SunTour simply made indexed levers. The “clicks” didn’t always mesh with the gear change because they were the calibrated to the distance between the cogs. 

Campagnolo’s Syncro wasn’t produced for very long and seems to have found popularity mainly among collectors. “Campy” was able to redeem itself during the ‘90’s, when it made an integrated system (with Ergo levers) that worked well. SunTour, on the other hand, never recovered from its failed system (and, to be fair, other missteps). Its reputation was made worse because bike-makers like Schwinn used their old stocks of French cables and chains that didn’t play nice with SunTour’s click shift.

SunTour’s fate is a particularly sad irony when you consider that a generation of cyclists like me could replace a malfunctioning Huret Allvit, Simplex Prestige or Campagnolo Valentino or Gran Turismo—or an ailing Atom or Regina freewheel—with something from SunTour without re-doing the rest of the bike.

Part of the reason why that was possible was “friction “ shifting, as Eben Weiss points out in his latest Outside article. He cites that compatibility as the reason why, after decades of using indexed shifting and a brief fling with electronic changers, he’s converting all of his bikes to friction shifting.

I may do the same. It wouldn’t be difficult, really.Of my seven bikes, five have derailleurs. (The other two include a fixed-gear and single-speed.) Two of the five shift with Simplex retrofriction levers. The other three—Dee-Lilah (my Mercian Vincitore Special), La-Vande (King of Mercia) and Vera (Miss Mercian mixte) have Dura-Ace 9-speed downtube levers. I’m using them in indexed mode but they can be converted to friction levers simply with a turn of the adjuster ring. I would do that, of course, if I were to use 8- or 10-speed cassettes instead of the 9s I’m currently running.

Tour Team Bikes Stolen

 As too many of us know too well, bicycles are among the most easily- and therefore commonly-stolen items. Usually, when a lower-priced bike is taken, it’s a crime of opportunity. But when an expensive machine is pilfered, it more than likely been targeted, whether by an individual or someone working for a gang or other group that steals and sells bikes.

The latter scenario probably explains the theft of 11 bicycles valued at around 150000 Euros (about 163000 USD) from a team mechanic’s van in Le Lorian, a resort in the Massif Central of France.

Some of those bikes were spares for riders on the French Total Energies team. Others—possibly including the Anthony Turgis, rode to victory in Stage 9 earlier this week—were riders’ “best” bikes.

Anthony Turgis (from Getty Images)

 Other teams are helping TE build replacements, which is difficult without the mechanics’ tools.

I have to wonder why—or whether—TE was targeted. Most of those bikes were Enve Melees which, even if they were sold (as most high-end stolen bikes are) for a fraction of their retail value, would net a hefty profit. 

Or is there someone who doesn’t want French riders like Turgis to win more stages—or the entire Tour for the first time since Bernard Hinault achieved his fifth Tour victory in 1985?

Could it be that some unscrupulous collector placed an order for Enve Melees or bikes ridden by Tour riders?

Whatever the case, the team’s riders and leaders say it’s just part of life and they’ll soldier on.

Morning Light On The Island

 Another early morning ride to City Island. Check out the light:

Make Sure You Know The Way

 Nearly a century and a half ago, Baron Haussmann remade Paris. Before he began his work, the City of Light had, like many other old European cities, serpentine, circuitous streets. He replaced them with wider, arrow-straight avenues and boulevards. 

He reasoned, correctly, that those new thoroughfares would facilitate commerce. 

But city and national officials probably cared more about how they could make it easier for troops to move—and put down protests and rebellions for which Parisians were famous. City residents who incited or participated in such conflicts could evade gendarmes and soldiers, many of whom came from other parts of the country—or different quarters of the city—and were therefore not familiar with the meandering streets.

I mention this history because if you are trying to flee law enforcement or military personnel—whether because you’ve incited a protest for a noble cause or have committed a crime (which I don’t recommend)—on your bicycle, be sure you know the terrain.

It’s too late for a man in Troy, New York. Police in the city, just northeast of Albany, responded to a call about “suspicious activity.” They tried to question a man riding his bike in the area. But instead of stopping, he sped up and tried to evade the cops.

He pedaled down a couple of streets pursued by the patrolmen who flashed their lights and blared their siren. He steered into a backyard where, in the darkness, he tumbled over an embankment and into the Hudson River, where he drowned.

I don’t know whether the man actually committed a crime or simply panicked when the cops approached him. Either way, fleeing wasn’t a good idea—especially if he didn’t know the territory.

Enjoying A Ride Isn’t Such A Mist-ery

 My brother and I are experiencing different kinds of heat waves.

He, in California, is dealing with temperatures over 100F (37.8C). Our high temperatures in New York have been a few degrees cooler. My brother, however, said that as much as he doesn’t like the heat, “I don’t miss East Coast humidity.”

He has a point. Even though we in New York rarely have to cope with 100F, almost every year includes a few days when the mercury rises above 90F (32.2C). But that heat is almost always accompanied by relative humidity of at least 7O percent.

The good news, for me anyway, is that I have been waking up early enough to get a decent number of kilometers/miles—and, more importantly, quality time—on my bikes.  Those jaunts have taken me to and along bodies of water, where I have witnessed something associated more with chilly London.

Seeing mist ride along the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, by itself, made yesterday’s ride (which brought me down to Coney Island) worthwhile. 

Likewise, I felt rewarded in seeing “fog” at the end of the Rockaway boardwalk this morning.

Some of the best things in life are shrouded in mist-ery.

Origin Of The Species

 Two years ago, staff writer Jill Lepore’s New Yorker essay, “Bicycles Have Evolved. Have We?” included this:

Cycling And….

 It occurs to me now that most, if not all, of my rides fall into one (or more) of these categories: the “pure,” “purpose-driven” and “integrative.”

The “pure” include training rides,those early-morning spins I’ve done lately and any other ride I’ve taken for its own sake.  “Purpose-driven” rides are commutes, errands and any other ride that involves a specific destination and task.

“Integrative” rides incorporate some other activity with cycling. When riding near home, or spending a few days in Paris, Rome or some other city, the ride can turn into a tour of architectural, historical or other monuments.* Or, in the country, my ride might be paired with hiking, camping or some other activity.

For Jeffrey Reed of suburban Buffalo, New York, that pursuit is “birding**.” I have never been a “birder,” though I have been paying more attention to our aleatory allies lately, possibly as a result of spending time in the Botanical Gardens.

Cute! Hooded Warbler . Photo by Jeffrey Reed

There is one more important difference, however, between my experience and Mr. Reed’s of integrating cycling with another activity. Because I am a lifelong cyclist, I usually am bringing the other endeavor—whether it has to do with nature, culture or something else—into my riding. Jeffrey, on the other hand, got on the saddle after decades away from it.

He decided on a hybrid-type bike.  While “serious” cyclists might turn up their noses at such machines (and, worse, those who ride them), they make sense for people like Reed—especially since, as he explains, most of his riding is on trails and gravel paths in local state forests and parks. Oh, and from what I gather, he’s not doing any of the “technical,” let alone gonzo, stuff I did during my mountain-biking days.

He says he doesn’t ride where there’s traffic, except on park roads where it’s minimal, because he has “no interest in becoming a hood ornament.” It will be interesting to see whether his cycling expands beyond his current self-imposed boundaries, understandable as they may be for someone who is returning to cycling—as a means to another pursuit.

*—There was an organization that conducted rides into ethnic enclaves of New York City and sampled its food. I took one of their rides—on the front of a tandem with a blind rider behind me.

**—I assume it’s what we called “bird watching “ in my day—just as I guess “thrifting” is the same (save for the prices) as shopping in thrift stores. 

Did She Make Citibike More Expensive?

 The goal of reducing motor vehicle traffic in New York City—if indeed there ever was such a goal (or, more precisely, if city officials were serious about it)—seems increasingly distant.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Governor Kathy Hochul halted congestion pricing, which would have taken effect this month.

I favor such a plan in principle. To be fair, however, I can understand the objections of contractors and other small business owners in the outer boroughs and suburbs who must bring large, heavy equipment into Manhattan every day. For them, and others, mass transportation, cycling or walking are not mere inconveniences: they are not feasible.

As a result of the Governor’s order, some mass transportation improvements (or catching up on deferred maintenance), which would have been funded by charging drivers $15 to enter Manhattan south of 60th Street, have been cancelled or deferred.

I have not heard of any cancellations or deferrals to bicycle infrastructure projects. I have to wonder, however, whether Citibike’s second price increase this year—20 percent—on eBike rentals is an indirect result of Hochul putting the kibosh on congestion pricing.

The money raised would have gone to the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, the state agency in charge of New York City’s subways and buses, some of its bridges and tunnels and suburban commuter bus and rail lines (including Metro North and the Long Island Rail Road). While Citibike doesn’t receive funds from the MTA —ironically, the bike-share program is run by the ride-share company Lyft—it is affected by street and driving conditions. For one thing, Citibike has its own fleet of vehicles to service the program. One of the reasons Citibike gave for its price increases is vehicle and insurance costs that are higher than anticipated—no doubt, at least in part, because of traffic congestion. Another is battery swapping on its eBikes:  the program doesn’t have enough charging or swapping stations. (Problems in creating them are one reason why Tesla ended battery-swapping.)

Happy (?) Fourth

 This morning I pedaled out to City Island on Tosca, my Mercian fixie.  Although humid, the air pleasantly balanced early summer with early morning: just enough warmth with just enough briskness.

We had our Pride festivities, and the end of Pride Month, on Sunday.  Still, I was surprised, as I have been during my most recent rides to the Island, at how many rainbow flags I saw draped from window sills and door frames, fluttering ever so lightly in the sea breeze.

Riding back along the Pelham Parkway path, I had a terrifying thought:  This might be the last Fourth of July I see those flags—or that the Stars and Stripes has any meaning, if it still does.

When people wished me “Happy Fourth,” I felt almost sick—and not because it’s my birthday and I’m another year older.  Rather, I am scared because of the Supreme Court’s ruling on Monday.  It says that the President cannot be held criminally accountable for “official” acts while in office.

Photo by Craig Hudson for the Washington Post 

So what constitutes an “official” act? Is it anything the President says it is? 

Some—including Justice Sonia Sotomayor in her dissent—have pointed out that Trump, if elected, could actually carry out his boast/threat to send Navy Seal Team 6 to assassinate his political rivals. He could, therefore, foment violence that would make January 6, 2021 look like a summer fair.

I have two very personal reasons to fear Trump becoming, in essence, Louis XIV. During his reign, haters of all kinds were emboldened to carry out their hatred on anyone they see as a “threat,” including transgender people. The violence has continued and probably intensify as Trump and his allies repeal laws and policies that aim to bring about equality—and pass new legislation to make life more difficult, even impossible, for us.

Oh, and don’t forget that he hates bicycles and cyclists. Would he target us directly or use fossil fuel companies by giving them tax breaks and allowing “eminent domain” so they could tear up bike lanes and other infrastructure to, say, build more pipelines?

I hope that I won’t have to feel so anxious next Fourth. In other words, I am hoping this country is still the country I was taught to believe it is—if indeed it still is, or ever was, that country.

Not Your Parents’ Way Of Leaving

 I don’t remember when, exactly, I started to ride a bicycle. I would guess, however, that whatever age I was, my first experience with two wheels included training wheels. Until recently, that was how most kids learned to ride.

During the past decade or so, that has changed.  More very young children are getting their first cycling experience on “balance bikes.”  They are like regular bikes, but smaller and without pedals.

One result is that kids are riding regular bicycles at earlier ages. Some are mounting balance bikes as early as six months old and making the transition to two wheels and two pedals as young as two years old. (Will this give new meaning to “the terrible twos?”) 

That means some children are riding regular bikes at an earlier age than people of my generation started on training wheels. And for most of us, the training wheels came off some time between the ages of four and six.

According to researchers, one reason why some babies are ready for a balance bike before their first birthday is that the cerebellum—the part of the brain that controls balance and coordination—typically goes through a growth spurt at six to eight months. And one of the reasons why youngsters who amble along on balance bikes learn to pedal regular bikes at an earlier age is that riding with training wheels doesn’t teach proprioception, the body’s ability to understand where it is in space. That is why a child has to re-learn balance—and is as likely as not to fall—when moving away from training wheels. “You can balance without pedaling, but you can’t pedal without balancing,” says Christian’s Mercé, a sports sciences professor at Portugal’s Santarém Polytechnic University.

She and other researchers stress that children should develop their riding skills at their own pace. Their parents shouldn’t panic if they’re not ready for a regular bike at, say, six years old.

As increasing numbers of children learn how to ride on balance bikes, it will be interesting to see whether and how the next generation of cyclists differs from us.