A New Weave?

Carbon fiber bikes first appeared about four decades ago.  For two decades, they were mainly curiosities or status symbols; they were ridden (if they were ridden) mainly for record attempts or by those who simply had to have the latest equipment.

When Trek and other companies started to make carbon fiber bikes priced within range of the best steel and aluminum bikes, parts and accessories with the "carbon weave" pattern became as fashionable as snakeskin or leopard often are among the haute couture crowd. I remember seeing handlebar tape, saddles and even tires with the "carbon basket", as some of us called it.

Well, it turns out that carbon fiber isn't the only material that's woven when used in bicycle frames.  Interestingly, this material has many of the same qualities that doomed the early carbon fiber frames but make them attractive (not just in visual ways) to many cyclists today:  It is strong but still flexible, which allows it to be shaped in a variety of ways.  But it is also brittle, and--like early carbon fiber materials--needs to be supported by other materials.

The material in question is bamboo.  Industrial designer Lance Rake (You've gotta love that name!) realized that to make bamboo stiff enough, he had to cut it into thin strips, weave it and  laminate it to another material.  This is more or less how early carbon fiber frames were made:  They fibers were wrapped around, and bonded to another material, usually aluminum. 

Now, you're never going to believe what Rake is laminating his bamboo fiber to.  Wait for it:  carbon fiber.  In another interesting parallel with early carbon fiber-frames, Rake's bamboo-laminate tubes are joined into carbon fiber lugs.  Most of the early carbon-fiber frames were bonded into aluminum lugs.  

The bike Rake is holding in his hands is fitted with mid-level components and weighs about 19 pounds--more or less what a similarly-equipped carbon fiber bike would weigh.

Will the new "must have" bike accessories have a bamboo-weave pattern?  Depending on the accessory, it might actually look good.  

No Idaho Stop In California--For Now, Anyway

Which is worse:

• a stupid, misguided, useless or pointless law that is passed by a legislative body

or

• a well-informed and well-conceived law that a legislative body votes against?

Yesterday's post concerned a mandate that may fit into the former category.  Today, unfortunately, I'm going to write about the latter.

As I've mentioned in an earlier post, way back in 1982, Idaho passed a law allowing cyclists to roll through an intersection at a red light if there is no cross-traffic.  Since then, no other US state has enacted similar legislation , though in 2011 a few Colorado municipalities adopted policies that allow cyclists to, in effect, treat "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs.  And the city of Paris, France has a statute allowing cyclists to do the same as long as they're making right turns, or going straight, through "T" junctions.

From the Portland Mercury

The so-called Idaho stop makes perfect sense because it allows cyclists to get out ahead of traffic and therefore be better seen by motorists, particularly those who are making right turns.  Even the policies of Paris and those Colorado communities are better than most others.

Recently, a bill that, if passed, would have given California cylists the same right that their peers in Idaho have enjoyed for more than three decades came up for a vote in the Golden State's Assembly.  After some intense lobbying (by, I think it's fair to assume, people who don't ride bikes), the bill was tabled.  Assembly member Jay Obernolte said the bill was being held up until the next legislative session so that "concerns" can be "worked out."

The one legitimate "concern" he mentioned came from groups representing the visually impaired, who say that people with vision problems could have difficulty hearing cyclists "whizzing by", as Sacrament Bee reporter Alexei Koseff put it.

That, in spite of researchers in the US and UK, working independently of each other and several years apart, coming to the conclusion that cyclists as well as motorists are safer when the "Idaho stop" is allowed.  Part of their research, of course, included a survey of Idaho's experience with its law.

Is This California Law A Lemon In Orange County?

Back in October,  a North Carolina law went into effect that, among other things, requires drivers in the Tar Heel State to give cyclists at least four feet of space while passing them.  At the time, both cyclists and motorists praised that provision of the law (House Bill 959), as well as another that allows drivers to cross the center line to pass a cyclist as long as there's "an assured clear distance" ahead and no oncoming traffic.

I have not seen any reports as to the effect the law is, or isn't, having on cyclists' safety.  To be fair, it may be too early to gauge because a change over the course of a few months in either direction could be just a statistical "blip".

Perhaps one could also say it's too early to tell whether a similar law the California Legislature passed in 2014 is having its desired effect.  That law, however, mandates only three feet when a motorist passes a cyclist.  Before the North Carolina's policy went into effect last fall, drivers were only required to give two feet.

I would like to hear what the folks in North Carolina say about their law next year.  If nothing else, it will be interesting whether they recount different experiences from what David Whiting, an Orange County Register columnist, reported after reviewing the coroner's records in his county.

Cyclists in the bike lane of the Pacific Coast Highway in Newport Beach, CA on 9 May.  From the Orange County Register.

Whiting, who says he has cycled roads in his area "for decades", writes that the past decade has averaged one cyclist killed by a motorist every month in Orange County.  That rate has been pretty consistent; so far this year, three cyclists have met their fates at the hands of motorists on Orange County roads.

For the purposes of his report, Whiting counted only those cyclists who were killed in encounters with motorized vehicles and not the ones (smaller in number) who were killed on trails, from falls or when they crashed into parked cars or other vehicles or objects--or the one who was run over by a train.  That makes sense:  Such deaths could not have been prevented by a two-, three- or four-foot, or any other distance, rule.

However, it also makes sense (or seems to) that such rules, whatever the correct or optimal distance may be, might prevent a few motorists from running down cyclists.  It is also fair to ask whether such rules actually work.

If Whiting's conclusion that the law is having little or no effect in Orange County is valid--which, I believe, may be the case--then I think it's necessary to ask why.  

Cyclist and advocate Bill Sellin, who has worked with the Orange County Transportation Authority, says the law has been good for "raising bicycling awareness" but otherwise "ineffective".  One problem, as he sees it, is that the penalties for passing cyclists close enough to scrape off their jerseys are lighter than those for littering.  Another problem, he says, is drunk and otherwise impaired driving.  But even more important, he says, is "addiction to cellphones".  Too many people, he explains, "are no longer paying attention to driving, but paying attention to a device".  

Sellin makes a lot of sense.  Perhaps a three- or four-foot rule, by itself, will not make cyclists safer.  However, if other laws are passed and, more important, enforced in tandem with it, we could see safer roads for both cyclists and motorists.  

Here in New York, we have a law against talking on cellphones while driving that is simply not enforced.  Some, especially among law enforcement in this city, argue that it's unenforceable or that there are "other priorities".  That, I don't understand:  A distracted driver is just as much of a danger, not only to cyclists, but to public safety in general, whether on city streets or rural highways.  

So is one who is intoxicated or under the influence, or with abilities impaired (which, by the way, are not the same thing). While local law enforcement officials and newspapers like to trumpet how many arrests they make, or summonses they give, for such violations, offenders too often get off with light penalties or, if they lose their licenses after repeat offenses, get back their driving privileges in relatively short order.

Whiting, for his part, makes points that make a lot of sense. One of them is that rules requiring motorists to maintain a certain distance won't, by themselves, make cyclists or motorists safer.  Only, as he points out,  more courteous behavior between cyclists and, as Sellin maintains, enforcement of rules against impaired and distracted driving, will make a three-, four- or x number-feet rule meaningful.

Drones And Crits Don't Mix

When riding in the city, a cyclist has to be aware of--in addition to motor vehicles and their drivers--pedestrians.  All it takes is one darting across the street at mid-block, or someone ambling through an intersection while looking at an iPhone screen, to send a cyclist tumbling to the pavement.  

In fact, I have incurred two falls--one on Broadway in SoHo, the other in Coney Island--caused by pedestrians who barrelled across a street without looking in the direction of the approaching traffic (which included me).  In the SoHo incident, said pedestrian--who was shopping with a friend--at least stopped and apologized. In the other mishap, the boy who plowed into me--who appeared to be about 14 or 15 years old--simply kept on going.  

I wasn't hurt in either incident, but things could have been worse.  Even scarier, though, were two instances in which I didn't actually crash, but could easily have taken a hit and a tumble.  Both happened when I was riding down mountains and an animal crossed my path:  a deer in Pennsylvania; an Alpine Ibex just after I crossed the border from France into Switzerland.  

During my brief career as an amateur racer, I went down once and had a near-miss.  Both were the result of other riders who jackknifed in front of me.  In the crash, I wrecked an expensive front wheel but, fortunately, not the bike--or me.  In the near-miss, another rider incurred similar damage when he and a couple of other riders hit the pavement a bit further back in the pack from where I'd been riding.

Now it seems there's a new hazard that can take a racer out of the game, or leave a rider with  road rash or worse:



It almost sounds like one of those excuses I'd hear from a student who didn't show up for class the day a term paper was due.  (That's happening to me this week!)  "I got hit by a drone".  At least, that's now more plausible than "My drone ate it!"

Seriously, though:  We have to watch for low-flying or falling drones.  Imagine if one caused a pileup in, say, the Tour, Giro or Vuelta!

How To Corrupt The Young: Let Their Teachers Ride Bikes To School

According to today's Google Doodle (Can you beat it as a source?), today is Teachers' Day.

As it happens, I teach in a college.  So, people often conflate me with teachers, especially when they complain about the inadequate skills and manners of young people today.   And they assume that I am on the same schedule as their local schools, or ask me questions about tests, programs and other things of which I am completely unfamilar.

 I am not ashamed to be associated with pedagogues in high schools, middle schools and elementary schools, and I feel the best of them are criminally underpaid.  Also, I feel they are unfairly blamed for much of what is "wrong" with "society".  There are bad ones, to be sure.  But the majority I've known are smart, hardworking people who are doing the best they can with limited resources, clueless or hostile administrators, mandates that have nothing to do with educating young people and with students who, perhaps, didn't get enough food, sleep or good parenting.

How educators influence young people can be debated, but their influence cannot be denied.  Thus, school boards have codes of conduct or behavior for their teachers.  Of course, what is considered "proper" or "moral" has changed over the past century.

For example, during the first Bike Boom of the 1890s. some feared that the sight of women on bicycles would corrupt young people.  There are folks (men, mainly) who still believe such things:  one of my colleagues, who hails from Ethiopia, has never ridden a bicycle because girls and females were kept away from them.  The reason, she said, is that the sight of a woman pumping her legs is seen as "provocative."

But, back in 1895, people didn't have to come from conservative religious societies in order to harbor such notions.  Although most of Long Island was still rural, it was hardly comparable to, say, Saudi Arabia.  Even so, in June of that year, the Long Island School Board issued a stern directive to its female teachers:  Stop Riding Bicycles.  As Board member William Sutter explained to the New York Sun:

   We as the trustees are responsible to the public for the conduct of the schools [and] the morals of the pupils.  I consider that for our boys and girls to see their women teachers ride up to the school door every day and dismount from a bicycle is conducive to the creation of immoral thoughts."

Hmm...Some of my students have seen me ride to school.  I wonder what "immoral thoughts" are fermenting in their heads.  Maybe I'm corrupting young people in ways I never realized!

France Wins--Or, At Least, Survives

La France Survit!  La France Survit!

That's more or less what my French friends and I have been exclaiming to each other.  Yes, France survives!  Emanuel Macron won the presidential election over Donald Trump-in-a-dress-who-speaks-French.

It's really appropriate that his victory came the day before V-E (Victory In Europe) Day.  More than one commentator has said that Macron's ascent is not just a victory for France, but for all of Europe.

I am inclined to agree, though I admit I'm far from being an expert on such things.  I am just happy that enough people didn't fall for the nonsense about making their country "great" again or "bringing back" jobs that were lost to automation rather than outsourcing.

For now, I am willing to take victory wherever I can find it--and celebrate.  Vincenzo Nibali has the right idea:

Yes, You Should Wear A Helmet. Really!

As you probably know (at least, if you read this blog), I wear a helmet when I ride.  Well, most of the time:  Once in a great while, I forget my helmet when I leave my apartment. And, I'll admit, while riding in Paris, Montreal and Prague, the denizens of those fair cities got to see the full, blazing glory of my hair in the wind when I pedaled up and down their boulevards and alleys.  For that matter, I let the sun and wind play with my mane while riding during visits with my parents in Florida.

So, although I encourage people to wear helmets, I don't excoriate people for not wearing them.  If nothing else, I try not to be a hypocrite!

Also, I think about all of the years I rode without a helmet. During my childhood, bike helmets were unheard-of.  When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager, the only helmets were those "leather hairnets" you sometimes see in old photos.  I figured they would be about as useful in accidents as nail clippers are for cutting diamonds.    

Yes, I survived, bareheaded, through all of those years and all of those miles.  So did lots of other people.  That is the argument some still make against helmet wearing.  Another is that helmets "can't protect you against everything".  To anyone who says that, I say, "You've got a point."  To which Groucho Marx might add, "You should put a hat over it."  Or a helmet?

Anyway, helmets certainly offer protection.  To wit:

They Didn't Catch A Bike Thief. But They Helped A Victim.

When bicycles were stolen from me, I imagined the ways in which I'd punish the thief.  Some of them came out of Dante's Inferno; others came from my own fertile (if I say so myself) imagination. 

Since I never got to face the human-shaped creatures who took my bikes, I don't know whether or not I would have meted out "frontier justice".  The one time I ever saw someone in the act of trying to steal a bike, I approached him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.  In those days, I was younger, leaner, more muscular and angrier.  Of course, seeing that lowlife got me even more riled up.

Being a cyclist, I understand how it feels to lose a bike.  And, because I made my living on a bike for a year, I know that losing one's wheels could be disastrous.  So, you might say that I take it personally when someone steals someone's bike.

Although the sorts of crimes people commit really haven't changed much throughout history, there are still some that shock us.  Sometimes it has to do with the brutality or intensity of the act, or the brazenness or depravity of the criminal.  Other times, the vulnerability of the victim causes us to react in ways that we don't when we hear about other crimes.

Brennan Miller was one such victim.  The 12-year-old resident of Toledo, Ohio had his bike taken from him at knifepoint.  Now, when I hear of such things, I expect the perp to be one of his peers, or someone not much older.  Part of the reason for that is my own experience:  Years ago, I was mugged by two young men close to my age.  And, in most of the stories I heard about kids getting "jumped", the antagonists were young people not much different from the ones they attacked.

But Miller's attacker was an adult who fled.  Now, I think Dante should have had a particular spot deep in Hell for adults who victimize children in any way.  And, yes, that goes for whoever took Brennan's bike.

James Izbinski, manager of Reggie's Bike Shop in West Toledo, Ohio, presents Brendan Miller with a new bike.

I guess what keeps me from becoming completely cynical is that for all of the thugs, punks and pure-and-simple crooks in this world, there are many others who are benevolent or simply practice acts of kindness.  James Izbinski is one such person.  He manages a business where seemingly like-minded folks work:  Reggie's Bike Shop, in West Toledo.

They gave him a new BMX bike that, according to Izbinski, is "the BMW of bicycles".  As sad as he was to lose his old bike, Miller agreed that his new bike is a fine machine, even nicer than the one he lost.  He says he had no idea that he was getting the bike and, in thanking shop employees, he said he feels they're "part of my family now."

Along with the bike, Miller received a new, programmable bike lock and some advice from Izbinski:  "Try to be aware of what's going on around you so it won't happen again!"

Bikes Will Eat Cars

Bikes will eat cars.

No, I am not using, uh, herbal remedies for non-medicinal purposes.  I haven't done that or used any other illicit substances in so long that I'm covered by the statute of limitations. (That is one thing to look forward to as you get older!)  In fact, the four words that opened this post aren't even mine.

They were uttered by Horace Dediu.  Who is he?, you ask.

I confess:  I didn't know who he is until I came across an article in, of all places, CNN Money.  There, he is described as a "prominent analyst of disruptive technologies."  That title alone makes him sound like he has an IQ that's even higher than my weight (in pounds, which is saying something!)

The way he sees it, bikes have all sorts of advantages over cars.  We are already familiar with some of them:  They're a lot easier to park and store, they cost less both to buy and maintain, and in many large cities, it's possible to get from point A to point B in less time one a bike than in a car, bus or, sometimes, even by rail.  

He also sees other advantages, which have only become apparent with the growth of bike-share programs.  One is, of course, the fact that bike share programs are relatively easy for cities to implement.  But another has to do with the sensors found in the bikes of some share programs.  At the moment, they're used to track the location of bikes so that they can be retrieved, especially in the newer programs that don't use ports or docks.  They also, of course, make it more difficult to steal the bikes.

Horace Dediu:  "Bikes will eat cars."

But the way Dediu sees it, that technology could develop into cameras that are placed in the bikes.  They, and other kinds of sensors, could record potholes and other real-time information that could be transmitted to city authorities.  They could even provide data on traffic and other street activity that could make Google Street View seem as antiquated as maps inked on parchment.

If you were to tell your non-cycling acquaintances what I've recounted, they'd object that bikes won't displace, much less "eat", cars for the same reasons they don't ride:  They're afraid of traffic, road conditions are bad and, oh, what do you do when it rains or snows?

Dediu has thought about those objections.  To address them, he describes the way infrastructure evolved around the automobile.  When the first motorized cars were created, there were far fewer paved roads, even in the most developed areas, and even the best roads were pretty rough.  Also, early cars were open-air.  It only took a generation or so for the landscape to be transformed by the infrastructure created for automobiles--which, by that time, were enclosed.

He sees a similar "evolution" for bicycles.  He thinks shells or other enclosures will become widespread, and that cities and other jurisdictions will develop bike lanes and other thoroughfares specifically for cyclists.

Finally, I must point out that when he says "bicycle", he isn't talking only about the kinds we pedal. He believes that electric bikes will also be part of the change he envisions.  Evidence for that, he explains, can be seen not only in the "explosive" growth in sales of e-bikes, but also in the fact that a few cities are introducing e-bikes to their share programs.  Some people who would be hesitant about trading their cars for pedaled bicycles could be enticed to ride e-bikes.  Also, the advantage in speed the bicycle offers in cities like New York could spread to areas further from urban centers.

One other obstacle--which, according to Dediu, must and will be overcome--to bikes displacing cars is the lack of availability of share bikes.  New York and San Francisco have the largest bike share programs in the US, at 12,000 and 7,000 bikes, respectively.  On the other hand, Beijing has 650,000 share bikes, all of which have hit that city's streets within the past nine months.

Horace Dediu says "Bikes will eat cars."  Whatever wastes they emit after their repast can't be nearly as toxic as what vehicles with internal combustion engines belch into the air we breathe!

They Can Ride, They Can Shine

One day an elderly woman wheeled her husband into the shop.  Neither of them had been on a bicycle in decades, she explained, but she wanted to buy bicycles for him and herself. 

Turns out, he'd had a stroke and, at that moment, couldn't speak.  In fact, his facial movements were constricted.  But I could sense, in his eyes, that he was at least curious about the bicycles.  If I could notice that, I thought, she certainly must have known that he was interested in riding.  Then I wondered whether he had expressed interest before his stroke, or whether that interest was somehow communicated in one of those ways couples sometimes develop.

Whatever the case, she knew what she was doing when she brought him to the shop.  I saw them ride just about every day that spring and summer and fall, sometimes on my way to the shop, sometimes on my way home or out for a ride of my own.  I saw, almost immediately, in his facial expressions (limited as they were) and body language, that she wasn't "dragging" him; he was riding voluntarily, behind her.  Within a few weeks, he was leading her, and looked as if he'd initiated their rides--even though he still couldn't speak (though his grunts and groans became more intelligible).  And she was encouraging him.

They also came to the shop regularly.  First it was to adjust the things that normally need adjustment (cables and such) as a bike "breaks in", but as they rode more, we tweaked the handlebar and saddle positions, and changed things like the grips.  He was attracted to the bright, shiny things--reflectors, bells and other accessories with a bright finish. One day, though, he pointed to the Huret Multito cyclometer (Cyclo-computers were still new.) on another customer's bike and pointed to it.  He had his curious expression again.  Not quite sure of how to explain it to him, I explained it to his wife.  

"He understood you," she said.  "He can understand much more now that we've been riding," she explained.  "Sometimes it almost sounds as if he's making words, not just sounds."

That fall--just before I stopped working in the shop--he had, in fact, regained his power of speech and was reading the newspaper.    Later, I heard he'd progressed to books and was writing cute notes to his wife.

Today I thought about that couple for the first time in years when I learned about a cycling camp for disabled children.  It's going to be held in Oklahoma City during the last five days of June.

That camp is one of a series--called "iCan Bike"--that's been been held in various locales throughout the USA since 2007.  iCan Bike camps are run by the nonprofit organization iCan Shine, which began under the name "Lose Your Training Wheels" in 2007.  One of the stated goals of the program is for children with physical, intellectual and emotional disabilities to ride a bicycle independently, which iCan Bike defines as 75 feet with no assistance.   According to iCan, 80 percent of kids who participate in the program reach this goal, even though they attend training sessions for only 75 minutes on each day of the program. The remaining 20 percent of kids leave the program with parents, siblings or other people who are trained as "spotters" and can continue the work of the camp.

When I recall how cycling helped the recovery of the old man whose wife wheeled him into the shop where I worked, I am sure that it must be great for kids who don't have the kinds of skills that man had before his stroke!

Reserved For Birds And Angels

A bishop and a professor were discussing philosophy.  (I know, it sounds like the beginning of a really geeky joke!)  

The bishop averred that The Millennium was at hand.  Evidence of that, he said, was that everything about nature had been discovered and all useful inventions created. 

The professor politely told the bishop he was mistaken.  "Why, in a few years," he proclaimed, "we'll be able to fly through the air."

The bishop was having none of it.  "What a nonsensical idea!," he exclaimed.  "Flight," he tried to assure the professor, "is reserved for birds and angels."  Being the good bishop he was, he added, "To think otherwise is blasphemy!"

This story is rich with irony.  The encounter between the suffragan and the savant occurred late in the nineteenth century.  So, whether or not he intended it, the professor was as much a seer as a sage.  The diocesan, on the other hand, sounded more like a die-hard Luddite.

The name of the professor has been lost to history.  But the bishop achieved some degree of fame in his time, having attained a rather high office in the Church of the United Brethren in Christ, whose members included some rather influential Americans in a number of endeavors.

This bishop's sons were among them.  They first made something of a name for themselves in the bicycle business, which was would experience its first great boom not long after the bishop made his pronouncement. 

Today we know that bishop's name mainly because of his sons.  Even if you have never been anywhere near a bicycle, you've heard of them.  Since you already know their names, whether or not you know it, I will tell you who that esteemed ecclesiastical authority was:  someone named Milton Wright.

Yes, his two sons were those Wrights.  Of course, they achieved even greater fame--though not fortune--for doing what their father said couldn't be done.  Yes, Orville and Wilbur got to do what all kids, at some point in their lives, try (and, some would argue, need) to do:  They proved their father wrong.  He didn't deny it, but he never seemed terribly impressed.  

But, in one sense, he was right (pun intended):  Humans cannot fly--without some sort of device or other aid, anyway.  Even on a bicycle.

With that in mind, I have found the perfect headgear for him, his sons and everyone else, whether or not they've ever pedaled on the velodrome:

An Intelligent Bike Trailer?

Most hardcore cyclists I've encountered sneer at electric bicycles, a.k.a. "e-bikes".  I admit that I did, too, when I first saw them.  Now, even though I'm not inclined to get one for myself, I more or less accept the fact that people ride them.  As long as their riders don't do anything stupid or careless around me, I don't worry.

I also must say that I've ridden with a trailer only a couple of times in my life.  As long as I am living in a New York City apartment, I probably never will own one.  I might, however,  consider buying one if I ever move to a place where everything I need isn't within a few minutes' bike ride and there is little or no public transportation.  If I were going to live car-free (or keep my driving to a minimum) in such an environment, I might need a trailer of some sort.

I'd like to think that I still wouldn't succumb and buy an "e-bike".  However, an electric trailer might be a good idea for really heavy loads.  In particular, one that exists only as a prototype, at least for now, looks interesting.




The "intelligent bicycle trailer" , created by Hamburg-based startup Nuwiel, attaches to a bicycle in much the same way as a kiddie trailer. So, it would be relatively easy to remove or install. 

What makes it "intelligent"?  Well, it has sensors in the attachment bar that measure the movement of the bike.  (By movement, I wonder whether they mean simply speed or the way the bike is traveling, e.g., into the wind.)  That information is transmitted to the trailer, which adds force as needed, up to a top speed of 25KPH (15.5 MPH).  A regenerative braking feature allows the trailer to slow the bike while partially recharging the batteries, which are said to have an average range of 50KM (31miles) per charge.

Nuwiel also says that when the trailer is not attached to the bike, it can be used as a motorized hand cart.  This could be useful for errands done on foot--say, to a store around the corner from where you live. 

The trailer, according to the company, will be available to courier and transport companies this Fall, and to consumers by 2019.  No price has been set.  Nuwiel seems to be pitching as a "last mile" delivery option and a carbon emission-free form of transport.

If nothing else, I am curious to see, and possibly try out the Nuwiel trailer. 

Cat's Cradle On May Day

Today is May Day.

In much of the world, this day commemorates labor movements.   In the United States, too many people believe--as I did, before I learned otherwise--that it was celebrated mainly in countries that are or were Communist, like Cuba and the former Soviet Union.  And, when I used to hold such mistaken beliefs, "Communist" was one of the most pejorative terms one could apply to any person, place or thing.

The funny thing is that the origins of May Day are as American as, well, Schwinn used to be.  So, for that matter, is socialism, which has its roots in workers' struggles to obtain an 8-hour work day (10 to 16 was the norm) and safer working conditions.  In fact, socialist movements in Europe and Latin America took much of their inspiration from movements in the US.

Unfortunately, workers in the bicycle industry--a major employer at that time (late 19th Century)--were not exempt from exploitation by their employers, as so many workers were and are.  As an example, Schwinn's metal platers and polishers struck for a 44-hour workweek and 85 cents an hour in 1919; the company retaliated against striking workers as well members of other unions and dealers who cancelled, or didn't place, orders.  In 1980, workers in Schwinn's Chicago factory, who had recently affiliated themselves with the United Auto Workers Union, went on a strike that would last four months.  In the meantime, the company accelerated its overseas sourcing and built a new factory in Mississippi, where labor was less expensive and unions all but non-existent.  Within a year, the Chicago plant ended more than eight decades of operation.

Schwinn' Peoria machine shop, 1895

In 1963, Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle was published. In the novel, the narrator--an everyman named John who calls himself Jonah--travels to the fictional Caribbean island of San Lorenzo.   On his way there, he meets "another fellow American,  H.Lowe Crosby of Evanston, Illinois, and his wife, Hazel," whom he describes as "heavy people, in their fifties" who "spoke twangingly."  

Mr. Crosby says he owns a bicycle factory in Chicago and gets "nothing but ingratitude from his employees."  Therefore, he plans to move his business to "grateful" San Lorenzo.  

The narrator asks Crosby whether he knows San Lorenzo well.  Crosby admits that he'll be seeing it for the first time but that he likes everything he's heard about it. "They've got discipline," he explains.  In Chicago, he says, "we don't make bicycles anymore.  It's all about human relations."  He proceeds to bemoan, basically, having to treat his workers like people.  Jonah asks him whether he thinks things will be better in San Lorenzo.

"I know damn well they will be.  The people down there are poor enough and scared enough and ignorant enough to have some common sense!"

Hmm...San Lorenzo sounds like a few not-so-fictional countries I can think of.  And Crosby sounds like a few not-so-fictional capitalists I can think of.

I Rode From It As Fast As I Could!

Yesterday morning, before I went out to ride, I was listening to the radio while I sipped on green tea and ate some Greek yougurt (from Kesso) with almonds and a banana, which I washed  down with an orange.  

While enjoying my breakfast, I was listening to an interview an NPR host conducted with a fellow in Inverness, Scotland who maintains the official website that records sightings of the Loch Ness Monster.  The interviewer is clearly skeptical, to put it mildly, about the existence of "Nessie" and other mythical creatures like Bigfoot.  

Now, because I'm the sort of person who takes a lot of things--even stuff that's more credible than, say, most of what Trump says in his speeches and tweets--with more than a few grains of salt,you might not expect me to be a believer.  But how can I be anything else?  I know for a fact that the Randall's Island Salamander and Point Lookout Orca exist.  I can't not believe.  After all, I made them up saw them and even photographed them, however crudely.

About the latter:  I didn't see him (I think I decided he's male because he reminds me of a Pac Man!) yesterday even though I rode to Point Lookout.  But could there be something else lurking in the waters by "the Point"?


It looks ready to take over the bay, the ocean and even the land:

A clever creature it is:  It showed up in the same part of all of that photos I took.  I guess it's trying to make me believe that it was dirt or some malfunction in my camera rather than a sea creature.

A tech-savvy monster?  Should we be scared?  Does the Point Lookout Orca stand a chance against it?

Oh, no:  It's following those folks home.  And their little dogs, too!

Review Of A New Bridge

No one will ever confuse Review Avenue in Long Island City with Route Departmentale 618 or the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito and Tiburon.  

I had only one opportunity to do RD 618 and one other for the iconic California ride because, well, each of them is about 6000 kilometers away (in opposite directions) from my apartment.  Review Avenue, on the other hand, is only about five kilometers away (at least via the routes I take), which is one of the reasons I find myself riding there at least a few times a year.

Although it's gritty, to be polite, it is visually interesting.  There aren't any really tall buildings there, which allows the sky to serve as a kind of diorama backdrop for the street that separates the First Calvary Cemetery Wall from the sooty brick and stone industrial structures.  That same street also looks as if it's going to sneak in under the Kosciuszko Bridge, but it makes a sharp left and leaves that job to the railroad tracks and Newtown Creek instead.

Until a few days ago, the Kosciuszko Bridge was the steel-girdered span that looks like an Erector Set project left out in the rain and soot.  It still is, but it's also that other bridge that looks like it's hanging by red and white shoestrings from a couple of concrete tombstones.  

Talk about "build it and they will come":  The new Kosciuszko is already congested with traffic--and the old bridge hasn't been closed!  A second stringed structure is supposed to be constructed parallel to the current one in two years.  I think cars are already lined up to get across it.

Actually, I rather like the look of the new bridge.  And it's probably easier to drive, especially a truck, across as it doesn't have the old bridge's steep inclines and terrible sight lines.  At the dedication ceremony, Governor Andrew Cuomo said he heard his father--three-term Governor Mario Cuomo--use expletives for the first time when he drove the family across the bridge.

Neither bicycles nor pedestrians were allowed on the old "Kos".  As far as I know, they won't be allowed on the new ones, either.  Then again, the bridges are part of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, where you wouldn't want to ride even if it were allowed!

The old bridge is falling apart.  But some things endure:

I wonder what Joe was thinking when he painted his name on the wall of the cemetery all of those years ago. (Maybe he's inside it now!) I'd love to know what kind of paint he used:  Anything that could withstand all of the fumes from the factories and trucks, along with the weather, must be pretty durable!

Un Coq Citroen Repair Station

When I was living in France, I did a few things--some of them entirely laughable, in retrospect--to make myself feel as if I had "gone native", if you will.

I didn't wear a beret: I soon discovered that, even then (more than three decades ago) only very old men and clochards wore them--or, at least, the kind they sell to tourists. Some farmers, particularly in the central and southwestern parts of the country, still wore the Basque-style beret, which has a larger diameter "crown" than the berets artists and wannabes perched on their crania when they smoked and sipped away their nights in cafes and bars.

Ironically, I wore berets after I returned to the US.  And I continued a few other habits as a way of asserting my Frenchness, or at least my French influences, in the face of the yahoo-ism of the Reagan and Bush I administrations.

While in France, I purchased and wore a few things that were all but unknown in the US at the time.  One was a wool French (Breton) fisherman's sweater.  It was the genuine article, knit from heavy dark navy wool with cream-colored horizontal stripes and buttons on the left shoulder.  Other Gallic accoutrements I acquired and wore included a sweatsuit, bike jersey and shoes from a company called Le Coq Sportif.

Now you can see the tricolore rooster everywhere.  But in those days, you pretty much had to be in France, or perhaps a neighboring country, (Remember:  There was no Amazon or eBay!)  in order to see, let alone wear, that quintessentially French emblem.

Another thing that could mark you as a French person was driving a Citroen.  Renault was still selling cars in the US; so was Peugeot, but their motorized vehicles weren't nearly as ubiquitous as their bicycles.  For a long time, I resolved that if I were to buy a car or van, it would be a Citroen because, well, you couldn't get anything more French than a vehicle with a chevron badge.

Well, Le Coq Sportif and Chevron have joined forces. The occasion is the 70th anniversary of the Type H van.  If you watch old French films, you've seen those boxy mini-trucks driven by farmers and urban delivery couriers.  You still see them in France.

Since both companies have long associations with bicycle racing in France and other countries, it makes sense that their collaboration would produce this:

It's something else I saw for the first time in France:  a mobile bicycle workshop.  

Vive la France!  I just hope they don't elect their own version of Trump.