A Dying Breed?

 

Curtis Phillip, one of New York’s last remaining bike messengers. Photo by Kay Bonrempo.

In 1983-84 I worked for two small businesses in the same industry. Both are long gone. That, on its face, is not remarkable: Few small businesses, in any industry, last four decades.

I have noticed, however, that none of the other companies that were part of that industry when I was working in it are still in business. In fact, industry itself barely exists and what remains of it is very different.

I am talking about the bicycle courier business. Not so long ago, one would see legions of cyclists, most of them young men, large rectangular bags slung across their bodies. pedaling fixed-gear bikes in slaloms through throngs of buses, taxicabs, vans and pedestrians.

I was one of those couriers, and I saw hundreds of them every day. Now I rarely see even one, even in the Wall Street and Midtown areas of Manhattan.

Apparently, bike messengers like the ones I’ve described are a dying breed, not only in New York, but also in Washington DC and other major cities. Their disappearance has been hastened by the pandemic: Many professionals and businesses still haven’t returned to their traditional downtown office spaces.

But the decline of the bike courier business and bike messenger culture has been unfolding for decades: more or less since I made my last delivery four decades ago. While the world-wide web hadn’t come into existence, there were networks that linked computers within certain geographical areas and industries. And fax machines were already in fairly wide use.  Documents that didn’t require physical signatures could therefore be sent remotely. 

For a decade or so after I left the business, the number of messengers didn’t seem to decline much, if at all. They were, however, getting less work and their pay—whether by the hour as or per delivery—stagnated or declined. From what I’ve heard and read, messengers today make less in actual—not adjusted—dollars than I made 40 years ago.

Another blow to the world of messengering I knew was, if not a direct result of, then at least accelerated by, the pandemic: food delivery apps. When people used them, they discovered that they could get their sushi brought to them for less than it cost to deliver a sales report. They lost what little reason and inclination they might have had to use a messenger service like the ones for which I worked.

Some bike messengers became “hybrids”: They combined food delivery with ferrying documents and small packages to offices. Those couriers, however, found that delivering food ordered on Door Dash or Grub Hub was taking more of their work day. Some quit because orders placed  on apps paid less than their old messenger companies; others didn’t or couldn’t (or didn’t want to) become part of the new wave of delivery workers who ride eBikes or mopeds.

Paying Attention to Cyclists in the City of Brotherly Love

Two months ago, Barbara Friedes was riding her bike on Philadelphia’s Spruce Street bike lane. An alleged drunk driver swerved into the lane and hit her from behind.

The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia was left with one fewer doctor than it had before the crash.

To its credit, the local affiliate of CBS News has been following bicycle safety in the City of Brotherly Love. The station’s investigation has not only followed crashes caused by drunk, careless or entitled drivers. It has also pursued such issues as city-issued permits—which the investigators called “questionable”—allowing churches to park in bike lanes on Sundays.

(That reminds me of something that might be touchy in this time of the Israel-Gaza conflict: The ultra-orthodox Jewish communities in my hometown of New York have a history of opposing nearly all bike-favorable policies and infrastructure on the grounds of “religious freedom.”)

Turns out, Philadelphia City Council President Kenyatta Johnson has also been paying attention. He has introduced a bill nicknamed the “Get Out of the Bike Lane” legislation. If passed, it would increase fines from $75 to $125 for parking or stopping in bike lanes in Center City or University City. Fines for similar infractions in other parts of the city would increase from $50 to $75.

Equal Rides, Unequal Fares

 $2.90

$4.79

Those two prices say much about the state of mass transit in New York City, my hometown.

The former is what you pay for a single ride on a city bus or subway.  The latter is what half an hour on a Citibike costs.

I would reckon that a typical subway ride—say, a commute from Astoria or Williamsburg to Midtown or Downtown Manhattan—takes about half an hour to 45 minutes. The disparity between the transit fare and a Citibike rental becomes even more pronounced, however, when you realize that if your bus gets caught in traffic or you decide to take a longer excursion on the subway, it won’t cost more. On the other hand, each additional minute beyond that $4.79 half-hour on a Citibike will set  you back 36 cents.

Photo by Joe Buglewicz

A bill introduced in the City Council last week would keep Lyft, the company that operates Citibike, from charging more than the cost of a transit fare for a two-hour bicycle ride or an hour on an e-bike. “Bike share is an essential part of the New York City transit landscape,” said Lincoln Restler, a Brooklyn council member and the bill’s sponsor.”We need to make it accessible and affordable to all.”

Restler has been one of the Council’s strongest advocates for cycling.  His remarks reflect a philosophy that includes cycling as a vital part of this city’s transportation system. It seems that his bill has at least a chance of passing, given that Mayor Eric Adams has said he would be “open” to considering more Citibike subsidies for low-income New Yorkers.  The chief stumbling block is that what the bill proposes couldn’t take effect until 2029, when Lyft’s current contract with the city ends.

An Un-Bearable Policy?

As I understand, bicycles and eBikes are allowed in certain areas of US National Parks.

I hope this rider isn’t violating the policy! 

Going After The “Fat” Of The Netherlands

A Dutch woman once explained her country’s liberal social environment to me. It was the first to legalize same-sex marriage, she said, for the same reason it legalized marijuana and sex work.  “We like order,” she told me.  “It’s part of our Calvinistic heritage.” Although she, like many of her compatriots, are no longer religious, the theologian’s way of thinking “still guides us.”

That reasoning seemed counterintuitive until she offered this:  “If people are being who they are aren’t hurting anyone else, why should they be made into criminals?” and therefore “outsiders.”  To maintain order, “include everyone.”

That desire for orderliness took a turn someone like me would expect—and wish for—in Rotterdam.  In one of the world’s busiest ports, authorities seized a shipment of 16,500 electric “fat bikes” from China. Another 1000 were taken from a nearby distribution warehouse.

As the name implies, such machines have wide tires and low-slung frames that cause them to resemble low-slung motorcycles.

European Union regulations limit eBikes to speeds of 25 mph (16mph). The “fatbikes,” however, have software and other components that can be easily manipulated to make them go much faster.

Apparently, nobody anticipated the arrival of those bikes. And, when the Netherlands mandated helmets for motor-scooter riders, many—especially teenagers—switched to “fatbikes,” for which there is no helmet requirement.

So now Dutch and European authorities are not only looking at headgear policies, but also to more clearly define different categories of two-wheeled vehicles. Would that authorities in my hometown of New York (and my home country of the United States) gain some of that Calvinistic penchant for making and maintaining order.

Will The CCC Be KO’d?

 The Community Cycling Center turned 30 years old in July. It helped to make Portland, Oregon synonymous, not only with cycling, but with non-profit cycling advocacy.

It may not, however, make it to 31. The organization is in a severe financial crisis that may be a reason why it has had six executive directors in the past five years. Its directors say the CCC can survive only if it receives $115,000 in donations during the next three weeks.

So how can such an organization, with its well-re bike shop, be in such dire straits—in Portland?

According to the CCC, its troubles began during the COVID-19 pandemic. While demand for bikes, parts and services surged, lockdowns ruptured supply chains, making parts and accessories difficult, if not impossible, to find. At the same time, donations to nonprofit organizations like CCC dropped, in part because people were out of work.

But a document provides other reasons that would elicit “I told you so”s from the editors of the Wall Street Journal. One is a “top heavy”  organizational structure. According to the doc, there are too many leadership positions that could be filled with lower-paid workers.  Another reason cited is employees who are kept year-round and provided with benefits and yearly cost-of-living increases.

Now, if you have been reading my blog for a while, you have probably guessed-correctly—that I am all for shop employees, or any other workers, making a living wage and not having to worry about financial ruin if they’re sick or hurt. That it’s cites as a cause of CCC’s crisis points to an inherent dilemma in the bike industry: In most places, it’s seasonal and for all but the mega-retailers, most of whom are now online, profit margins are small and overhead costs are high, hence the low wages paid to mechanics and other employees. The lack of pay (and, in most shops, benefits) is probably why the retail bike industry isn’t seen as a career option to anyone who doesn’t own the business.

I am not familiar with CCC’s administration. I suspect, however, that one reason why it has “too many” full-time leadership positions is that, like other community-centered nonprofits , it’s trying to promote opportunities for people who might not otherwise have them. I would hate to see any organization give up on such a worthy endeavor, but I imagine that it’s not easy to sustain.

Sometimes They’re Righr

 A letter to the Baltimore Banner’s editor illustrated, for me, a problem in the planning and public perception of bicycle infrastructure.

I am not familiar with Baltimore. From reading Dr. Mark Braun’s letter, however, I get the impression that the city’s bike lanes are as sporadic and episodic as they are in other American locales.

Dr. Braun, who describes himself as a new resident and avid cyclist, says that he cannot understand why residents object to one proposed bike lane, but completely understands why they object to another. 

Photo by Daniel Zawodny

About the latter, he says two roads that would connect parts of other bike trails are “overbuilt” and would be “incredibly unsafe for children or inexperienced riders. He says the former is a much better choice, as it is a four-lane road where traffic is light but fast, which encourages drivers to speed. A bike lane along that road, he argues, would result in “decreased vehicle speeds” and provide “direct access” to two parks.

In other words, he is saying that on the road where a proposed lane has raised objections he can’t understand, the lane would actually make the road safer for traffic as well as cyclists. And, he understands the objections to the other proposed route for essentially the same reason.

Such considerations never seem to factor into decisions about where and how to build bike lanes in American cities. That, I believe is one factor that causes planners to create bad bike lanes and for non-cyclists to object to good lanes for the wrong reasons.

Silly Goose!

 While riding down the Hudson River Greenway, “Sam” and I had to dodge a flock of geese that strolled into the path.

I say that if you’re going to take up space in a bike lane you should, at least, be on a bike!

A “Guerilla” Bike Share

If you’ve ridden a bike from a share network like Citibike in my hometown of New York, you probably retrieved the bike from a dock by clicking an app or QR code. At least, that’s what I’ve done the few times I’ve ridden such a bike.

The earliest official share programs—like the one started in La Rochelle, France half a century ago (and still running to this day) could not, of course, have operated in such a way because we didn’t have portable phones, “smart” or otherwise, and the technological networks didn’t exist. So, I imagine, operating the share system must have been more labor intensive, and its bikes more difficult to keep track of, than its current iteration.

In my previous paragraph, I wrote that La Rochelle can lay claim to the first “official” bike share program. That is to say, it was the first to be organized and sanctioned by a city or other government. The idea of bikes publicly available to anyone who wants to ride them predates La Rochelle’s program by a decade or so:  During the mid-1960s, anarchists took abandoned bicycles, painted them white and left the Witte Fietsen on the streets of Amsterdam for anyone who wanted to ride them.

It seems that the spirit of that “Dutch treat,” if you will, has been revived in Montclair, New Jersey, only 33 kilometers (21 miles) or so from my apartment.

“Andy,” who would not give his full name, found a few bikes that were being thrown away.  He took them home, repaired them and collected more bikes. He soon had a full garage. 

One day, as he relates, he was talking to a co-worker who said getting to the bus he takes to work was ‘challenging.” “Andy”offered him one of the bikes, explaining that he could lock the bike up before he boarded the bus and hop back on it after returning.

A “Guerilla” bike in front of the Montclair Public Library.

So was the Montclair Guerilla Bike Share program born. It takes bikes from the trash, clean-outs and donors, makes them rideable and leaves them in public spaces where people can unlock them with QR codes or by visiting the website. After riding it, you can lock it in a public place for someone else to unlock it.

“Andy” says he’s improved the stickers and other markings to make them easier to find. He’s also installed trackers on them, which helps to ensure that they’re not stolen and makes it easier to check on their conditions.

I am sure he knows about Citibike and other institutionalized bike-share programs. But I wonder whether he knew anything about the anarchists in Amsterdam who were leaving bikes on that city’s streets a decade before he was born.

First Times, Again

 I’ve never been here before—on a bike.

So exclaimed “Sam,” my new neighbor and riding buddy when we stopped at City Island during our first ride together. I heard it a few more times the other day, after we pedaled the length of Manhattan on the Hudson River bike lane and looped past the Staten Island Ferry terminal and South Street Seaport to the Williamsburg Bridge.

“I’ve never crossed this on bike!”

He also rode “Hipster Hook”—the waterfront of Williamsburg and Greenpoint for the first time. In fact, our ride was his first into Brooklyn and Queens.

He apologizes for riding a pace slower than mind. I don’t mind, I assure him. He, who has asthma, is riding, and that is good. So what if we need to stop so he can use his inhaler? 

More than anything, I enjoy his company: Let’s say that he’s lived a life vastly different from mine and therefore sees things in a way I never could. Plus, I love seeing him experience those “firsts” on a bike. 

I suspect that if we do some of the same rides again, that sense of discovery won’t disappear: He will change as a rider as, I believe, we all do. Besides, I can take a ride I’ve done dozens, or even hundreds, of times and experience something new or anew, whether in my surroundings or my body, or the bike itself—whether I’m by myself or pedaling with a new riding buddy.

Even In A Cyclist's Paradise, Not All Is Heavenly

The Netherlands is often seen as a cyclists' paradise.  Indeed, the country's ratio of bicycles to people is roughly the same as, ahem, of that of guns to people in the United States. (That is to say, humans are outnumbered.) And comprehensive networks of bike lanes that you can actually use to get from home to school or work, or to go shopping or simply on a "fun" ride, crisscross many Dutch cities and towns.  Moreover, bicycle "infrastructure" includes facilities like parking garages that drivers take for granted.

However, even in such a velocipedic utopia, not all places are "bike friendly," according to Mark Wagenbuur, the "Bicycle Dutch" blog author.  Recently, he was asked to speak in Wageningen, a small city with a university renowned for its work in agricultural technology and engineering.  As he had never before been in the city, he spent some time pedaling in it before offering his perspective on its cycling conditions.

There, he reports, he found "a mishmash of various types of infrastructure that have developed over time." Not only did he find paths with different kinds of surfaces that weren't connected, he also found bike lanes where they "didn't need to be," like the one alongside a residential street with a 30 kph (19 mph) speed limit.  To be fair, he points out, the street was once a major road, so the bike lane may have made more sense.  But, as with any kind of infrastructure, it needs to be updated. 

Also, he found "car parking lots galore" in a city that is "warmly welcoming car drivers" and noticed that, like other cities that aren't particularly welcoming to cyclists, it's also difficult to reach and navigate via mass transit. (Though there is a bus terminal, the nearest rail station is 8 km--about 5 miles--from the center of the city.) Furthermore, the pedestrian route from the bus station to the center of town includes crossing a busy Provincial Road with no crosswalk or traffic lights. From there, pedestrians traverse a dark underpass and a car parking lot.

Americans (and people in some other countries) might dismiss Wagenbuur as "spoiled." After all, he is comparing conditions in Wageningen to those of his home city and others in the Netherlands.  But he has made a valid point:  Wageningen can, and should do better, even if its cycling conditions are better than those of most locales in the United States.

When It Was About Labor

 For many Americans, today—Labor Day—is the end of summer. Some are enjoying their last picnics, barbecues, trip to the beach or other warm-weather outdoor activities of the season. Still others are taking advantage of “sales”* in department stores and online venues.

But this day wasn’t always a day of rest, relaxation or revelry. The first Labor Day was observed in New York City on 5 September 1882–interestingly, the day after Thomas Edison flipped the switch that turned on New York City’s first electric street lights—and the “Times” sign in what would become the eponymous square (known, at that time, as Longacre).

The earliest Labor Days, in contrast to more recent ones, were serious, sometimes solemn and even feisty occasions. They highlighted the terrible conditions under which many laborers—who included women and immigrants—worked. 

Factory and business owners, understandably, used the technological advances of the Industrial Revolution to increase productivity—and profits. The more avaricious entrepreneurs also found opportunities to exploit workers. There was no minimum wage or overtime pay. Worse, there were no laws mandating safety or other standards in workplaces, and little if any recourse for injured or crippled workers.

The early Labor Days, therefore, were more likely to include rallies, protests and parades, like this one:

Unemployed workers, many of whom lost their jobs in the wake of the previous year’s stock market panic, descended on Washington for Labor Day 1894.

*—Too often, holiday sales are scams:  Prices are jacked up before the holidays and the discounts simply bring prices back to, or near, earlier levels.

It Takes All Kinds

 Five months ago, I moved into a senior apartment complex. (But I’m still in midlife, dammit! I don’t have a complex!😉) 

Some neighbors don’t know my name, but they know I’m “the lady who rides a bike.” A few know about the 105 mile ride I took last week. One thing they don’t know, however, is that it’s not the first “century” I’ve ever done.

Some of my neighbors use walkers or wheelchairs. So I guess it’s not surprising that they look at me with awe or envy, as if I’m an Olympic athlete.  I am sure that others, however, see me this way:

Not Too Famous For Justice, I Hope

 And the big bicycle-related story isn’t about a race or someone who embarked on a world tour to recover from a brush with death or some other life-altering event.

Rather, it’s about a crash. It made headlines mainly because one of its victims is well-known, at least to people—and there are many, including yours truly—who follow the sport he played for a living.

The fact that I not only know about him but also know enough about hockey to appreciate what a great player he was doesn’t make me sadder than if it had happened to someone less famous. Rather, the way he—and his brother—lost their lives while cycling along a rural road in southern New Jersey leaves me even more enraged at the person responsible for  it than I might be if the crash could have been blamed on, say, weather or something else out of his, and the cyclists’ control.

Johnny Gaudreau, a star left wing for the National Hockey League’s Columbus Blue Jackets, and his brother Matthew were pedaling along County Road 551, a two-lane road, in Oldmans Township at around 8:30 last night. An SUV moved toward the center of the road to pass them.

The driver of a Jeep Grand Cherokee wanted to pass the SUV.  He pulled to its right—where the Gaudreau brothers were cycling.

They were pronounced dead at scene. Police took the Jeep’s driver—Sean M. Higgins—into custody. He failed a sobriety test and admitted he’d had “5 to 6” beers before getting behind the wheel of his Jeep. Higgins told police that his alcohol consumption contributed to his impatience and reckless driving.

He is detained in Salem County Correctional Facility  and will have a pre-trial detention hearing on 5 September. He has been charged with two counts of death by auto.

I hope that his punishment is based on his disregard for two human lives and not respecting the rights of two cyclist and not merely on the celebrity of one of his victims. Even more importantly, I hope that a sentence commensurate with his crime sets a precedent for other drivers who kill cyclists. Better yet, I would like to neither nor hear about any more such incidents.

A Newspaper Calls Out Its City's Drivers

"In a city plagued with reckless driving..."

Would you expect an article about your city (or town), published in a local newspaper, to begin with that phrase?

Well, a piece in the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel began that way.  In many other American locales, even those that are supposedly "bike-friendly," drivers would howl in protest, and cancel subscriptions and, if they're business owners, advertisements.  I've never been to Milwaukee, so I won't speculate on whether motorists have more or less sway than they have in other places.  Even if they have less influence, it's still surprising to see an article (not an editorial) begin with such a phrase.

The focus of the article is how reckless and simply entitled drivers are undermining the city's efforts to build a network of bike lanes.  In particular, it described the ways in which drivers have made pedaling  along North Avenue, in the words of longtime cyclist Lydia Ravenwood,  "worse with the bike lane."

I would echo a similar complaint about some streets in my hometown, New York City, that have bike lanes.  Sam Mattson, another longtime cyclist, gives a reason that any New York cyclist could give about too many of our lanes:  Drivers treat them like parking lanes. (He doesn't mention something I would add:  Taxi and ride share drivers pick up and discharge passengers in the bike lanes.)  But he also adds a detail that relates to the article's headline:  Drivers deliberately smash into the concrete planters that separate the bike from the traffic lane. 

A cyclist on East North Avenue, Milwaukee.  Photo by Mike De Sisti for the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel.

If you ask me, even if those motorists are skilled enough to effect a "controlled" crash, they are as reckless--with the lives of cyclists and pedestrians as well as themselves--as drug- or alcohol-addled hooligans who plow along the street at twice the speed limit and just "happen" to knock over the barriers.

It Doesn’t Cause Us To Misbehave

 Allowing cyclists to proceed through a “stop” sign if “the coast is clear”—essentially, treating a “stop” as a “yield” sign—is called a “rolling stop” in traffic planning and legal parlance. It’s been nicknamed the “Idaho Stop” because the Gem State legalized it all the way back in 1982. 

For more than three decades, that law was all but unknown in the rest of the United States. Since 2017, seven other states—my native New York not being one of them!—have enacted similar legislation.

One reason more states and locales* haven’t allowed the “Idaho Stop” is that many drivers believe that it would cause cyclists to act un safely, and some cyclists have expressed the same fear about motorists. So, perhaps, it’s not surprising that too many lawmakers share such misperceptions, which are the basis for their opposition.

A new study from the Oregon State University’s College of Engineering contradicts such fears and misperceptions, which are a basis of much hostility between motorists and cyclists, and aggressive behavior by the former towards the latter. Thus, according to David Hurwitz, an OSU Transportation Engineering professor and the study’s lead, any move to enact “rolling stop” laws must include efforts to educate both motorists and cyclists.

He and his team came to this conclusion after a remarkably simple experiment that included bicycle and motor vehicle simulators. Pairs of subjects simultaneously operated each simulator and each member of the pair interacted with an avatar of the other in a shared virtual world.

The results underscored a tenet from previous research: Drivers are more hostile, and behave more aggressively toward, cyclists when they think, with or without justification, that we’re breaking the law. That means people need to be educated about the benefits of the “Idaho Stop” not only in places that don’t allow it, but in places that already have it.

The OSU team’s study also underscores what every dedicated cyclist, especially in places like my hometown of New York, knows:  The faster we get through an intersection, the less likely we are to be in a catastrophic crash. And, as the OSU study reveals, when drivers understand as much, they’re more likely to approach an intersection at a slower speed and let cyclists proceed ahead of them.

I think education has to include law enforcement officials, especially traffic cops—including one who stopped me for going through a “Stop” sign on Long Island. As I recall, it was near the end of the month and he had an itchy ticket-writing hand. I explained to the honorable constable that my proceeding ahead of a school bus—which made a right turn— was safer for everyone, including the pedestrians who crossed after the bus driver and I cleared the intersection. He didn’t write the ticket, but he admonished me to “remember the law” because “the next officer might not be sympathetic.”

*—A few cities and counties allow the “Idaho Stop” even though they’re located in states that don’t.

Ghost Bikes: More Dangerous Than Guns?

When kids are shot to death in school, “thoughts and prayers” are offered. But when anyone suggests making it more difficult to obtain firearms—especially assault weapons—some of the same folks who grace those kids with their “thoughts and prayers”  grow apoplectic: They rage about “losing” their “Second Amendment Rights” and argue that a school shooting now and then is a “price” we have to pay for “freedom.”

I would bet that among such stalwart defenders of our “rights” are the ones ordering that a “ghost” bike be removed from its place by a school because students would be traumatized by seeing it.

This scenario is unfolding at Sugar Mill Elementary School in Port Orange, Florida. Tara Okhovatian placed the memorial to ShaoLan Kamaly, a 10-year old who was struck and killed as she rode her bike to school last spring. Okhovatian is a friend of Kamaly’s family and said her son loved playing with ShaoLan, who said she didn’t like princesses because they “don’t do anything but wait for guys to save them.”

Okhovatian tried to save her memory. But she has been ordered to remove the makeshift shrine or law enforcement would “retrieve” it.

Ah, where else but in Florida, where it’s easier to get a gun than almost anyplace that’s not an active war zone, but helping kids remember their classmate is deemed too dangerous?

Not In Denial

 I'm still a Midlife Cyclist.

Really, I am!

A Crash On The Island

If I ever go to the Upper Great Lakes region, I definitely would want to spend time on Mackinac Island. Situated between Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas, Mackinac is car-free. So how do people get around?  They walk, ride horses—and pedal. Oh, and eBikes are allowed only for people with disabilities—and the kinds of eBikes allowed on the island are limited.

If it all sounds idyllic and a paradise for cyclists, well, by all accounts it is. But even there one can face hazards while pedaling the well-kept streets. 

On Wednesday afternoon, a 77-year old woman from the Detroit area was enjoying a westbound ride along the island’s Main Street when she collided with a horse-drawn carriage traveling in the opposite direction.

She was taken to a nearby hospital where she later died from her injuries.

I feel bad for the lady and her loved ones. But I, as a New Yorker, have to wonder whether such mishaps occur in or around Central Park: to my knowledge, the only part of the city where horse-drawn carriages operate.

Riding After Ernesto

 Yesterday’s weather reflected May more than August: a high temperature of 24C (75F) and cumulus clouds drifting across a sun-filled sky. It followed a couple of days with similar conditions:  After the heavy rains of last weekend, could it have been a “gift” from Hurricane Ernesto.

During my ride, I saw other reminders of his visit. I cycled down to Rockaway Beach and east along the south shore of Queens and Nassau County to Point Lookout. Swimming was prohibited in all of the beaches I passed—and the ones I saw on my ride ride back, which I continued along the coast to Jacob Riis Park, Sheepshead Bay, Coney Island and the Verrazano-Narrows promenade before turning “inland” where Bay Ridge meets Sunset Park and pedaling through Brooklyn and Queens back to the Bronx.

One interesting phenomenon about the aftermath of a hurricane is its effect on tides. After a storm passes, the water’s calm surface may hide a strong undercurrent—hence the swimming ban.  It also can lead not only to strong high tides but, almost counterintuitively, cause the tide to recede even further than it normally does, as I saw at Point Lookout.  

Someone—a resident, I believe—remarked that on one of the most beautiful days, weather-wise, he’d experienced, he’d “never seen the tide so far out.”

Oh, and I should mention another reminder that a strong storm had passed:  It seemed that no matter which way I pedaled, a strong wind blew at my back or face.  I didn’t mind:  Even when I fought it, the wind seemed to make the day even more beautiful.

Oh, and by my calculations, I did a bit more than a “century” in miles (about 105, or 169 kilometers). Does that mean I’ve extended my “midlife” just a bit more.

Did Drillium Hit A “Wall?”

 If you are a cyclist in, ahem, late midlife, you remember the “drillium” craze of the 1970s and early 1980s. Some component manufacturers offered “holey” stuff—usually chainrings (which sometimes looked quite nice, especially if they were black and the holes were silver) and other non-weight bearing parts. Most manufacturers, however, advised against customers drilling at home: They claimed that their parts were already as light as they could be without compromising safety.

The “drillium” craze also included fluting and slotting parts like brake levers, stems and seatposts.  Then there is this Zeus crankset, which I recently saw on Craigslist:

During the time this crankset was made, one of the ways Zeus tried to appeal to racers and weight weenies was by offering stuff that was “lighter than Campy.” (They were one of the first manufacturers to use titanium.) To me, this crankset represents the heights or depths, depending on your point of view, of “drillium,” just as some listeners will say that Pink Floyd’s “The Wall,” which came out at around the same time, highlights the best or worst things about progressive rock.

Moonlight Cruise

 Yesterday I combined a daytime ride with “taking care of business.” That meant crossing into Harlem and pedaling—sailing, really, with the wind at my back—down the Hudson River Greenway to the World Trade Center, where I boarded a PATH train to Journal Square, Jersey City.

As I rode the streets of the Bronx, Manhattan and Jersey City,I was surprised at how little traffic I saw. Could it be that the NYC Metro Area is experiencing an “August absence “ like that of Paris and other European cities?

Traffic was so light, in fact, that when I resumed my trip in Jersey City, I rolled down JFK Boulevard—a “stroad” I would not take under other circumstances—all the way to the Bayonne Bridge, where I crossed into Staten Island.

Ironically, I saw the densest crowds on the Ferry’s observation decks. Most of the people were, of course, tourists. But the few who seemed to have ridden the Ferry before couldn’t’ve been blamed for standing in the cool breeze.

Tell me, where else can you go on a moonlight cruise for free?

And my “moonlight cruise” continued on La-Vande, my King of Mercia, up through Manhattan where, I believe, I could’ve navigated by the August blue moon even if all of the neon and street lights—and all of the headlamps on cars, trucks and buses—had gone dark. 

I saw only one other cyclist and one runner as I wound my way up Central Park to Adam Clayton Boulevard *, where people seemed to enjoy the night as much as I did.

*—You can tell someone is native to the neighborhood if they call it “7th Avenue,” just as no New Yorker refers to 6th Avenue as “Avenue of the Americas,” its official name since 1945.

What You Really Need

 Do you really need clipless pedals--and cleated cycling shoes--after all?

"Wear A Bloody Helmet!"

Tomorrow will mark a decade since a black cat (really!) ran into my front wheel, glanced off it and darted away.

While that encounter resulted in some bruises and fatigue that kept me from riding for a couple of days, neither I nor my bike was seriously damaged.

Christian Reeves

Christian Reeves wasn't so lucky. As he pedaled to work on 30 July, two cats fought in an alleyway.  That confrontation was captured on CCTV before Reeves rounded a corner and, apparently, scared them.  They darted into his path:  one under his front tire, the other under the rear.  The impact launched him off his bike and onto the pavement--headfirst.  He suffered a severe brain injury.  In spite of an operation and having "fought a very hard battle," according to his son Dominic, the 52-year-old Rugby (UK) resident passed away on 5 August.

As valiant as his battle to stay alive, and as skilled as the surgeons, may have been, Dominic says one thing could have ensured that his father would still be with him today.  So he is imploring cyclists to do what his Dad didn't:  "Wear a bloody helmet!"

   

And The Race Is Decided By--A Hacker?

As I have mentioned in an earlier post, the Campagnolo Nuovo and Super Record derailleurs are among the most iconic components in cycling.  They and their imitators all but monopolized the world's elite pelotons for about two decades, and dedicated (or wealthy) cyclists aspired to having a bicycle outfitted with one of those derailleurs, and other Campagnolo components.

To be fair, those derailleurs offered, possibly, the best balance between weight and durability available at the time.  Also, Campagnolo offered spare parts, down to the springs on the adjustment screws.  It was therefore possible, at least in theory, to rebuild a "Campy" derailleur forever.

The Nuovo and Super Record, however had--shall we say--some interesting characteristics.  For derailleurs designed for racing, they were often balky on shifts between the smallest rear cogs--the highest gears. This  "quirk"—which seemed essentially noticeable when 13 tooth replaced 14 tooth cogs as the standard—for which some riders compensated by shifting a split-second earlier than they might have.  Others, though, complained that they lost time--or races altogether--because they couldn't get into their highest gears for a downhill stretch or sprint.

It's bad enough to lose seconds, minutes, meters or races because of  shift missed due to mechanical flaws.  But imagine your chance at a stage win or wearing a leader's jersey going up in smoke because someone else shifted, or prevented you from shifting, your gears.

According to a team of computer scientists (at least one of whom is an avid cyclist) from the University of California-San Diego and Northeastern University, such a scenario is entirely possible, even in elite stages like the Tour de France and Giro d'Italia.

Earlance Fernandes, one of the study's lead authors and a computer scientist at University of California-San Diego

The fact that computer scientists are making such a claim tells you that the problem is in electronic shifting systems.  "Security vulnerabilities" in such systems, the researchers write, "can affect safety and performance, particularly in professional bike races." In other words, hackers--possibly employed by rivals of the cyclist who's attacked--can exploit electronic an shifting system's weaknesses to manipulate gear shifts or jamming the system altogether.  

From my brief (and I admit, not terribly successful) racing career, I know that a missed shift can not only slow you down.  It can also throw off your timing and equilibrium and lead to a crash and injuries.  The researchers said as much in their report.

The Union Cycliste Internationale has seemed unable (some say unwilling) to stop cheating of the pharmaceutical type.  One wonders whether they can or will do anything about the cyber variety.

Did We Need That Editorial?

 An editorial in Cycling Weekly reminded me of why I stopped reading some bicycle-related publications and websites.

“Are rim brake bikes still needed in 2024?” wonders James Shurbsall. 

The real question, to me, is whether disc brakes were ever needed on any but a few bikes such as tandems, where they have been used for about half a century. As Eben Weiss pointed out, they are the “innovation” nobody asked for.

While Shurstall gives space to two rim-brake devotees, he clearly slants his piece toward the notion that such braking systems are obsolete.  And he uses Colnago’s introduction of an ultra-expensive frame set that takes integrated rim brakes—but is compatible only with electronic shift systems—as a “straw man” for his argument.

I can only wonder whether one of the bike manufacturers offering only disc-brake models paid him to write his piece—or Cycling Weekly to publish it.

Boston Hauls A “First”

 When Citibike debuted in New York City eleven years ago, Hasidic Jewish leaders in South Williamsburg, Brooklyn tried to keep the bike-share program out of their neighborhood. Why? The same reason why another Brooklyn ultra-Orthodox community—Borough Park—stopped bike lanes from coming into their enclave:  They didn’t want “scantily-clad” cyclists rolling disturbing their “peace.”

Although the Hasidim tend to vote as a bloc (including, ahem, for Donald Trump), not everyone was against Citibike. And when it finally came to their neck of the woods, the Hasidim—the men, anyway—couldn’t get enough of it.

I think we saw so many black-hatted bearded men pedaled blue Citibikes down Kent Avenue and Havemeyer Street, their tzitzits fluttering behind them for at least one of the reasons why hipsters in tank tops twiddled along Berry Street Although they have a reputation for being trust-fund kids whose parents buy condos for them, many hipsters are living with roommates in cramped quarters. And the Hasidim tend to have large families which, even in a large apartment or house, doesn’t leave much room for anything else.

All of this came to mind when I read that Boston is about to become the first city to add cargo bikes to its bike share program. Planners hope and anticipate that this new service, like Bluebikes, will become popular and offer an alternative to cars for people who must haul cargo and children. If Bostonians embrace the shared cargo bikes as they have Bluebikes, I think it will be in part for the same reasons Hasidim in South Williamsburg and hipsters on the North Side embraced Citibike. If people can’t store a regular bicycle in their living space, how would they fit a cargo bike?

I would be interested to see whether my hometown of New York follows Boston’s lead—which it does more often than New Yorkers care to admit. (Example: Boston opened the first subway system, a decade before New York’s.)

My “Disease”

 I have been diagnosed with allergies to dust and mold, depression (for which I’ve never taken meds) and gender identity disorder (for which I have received treatment.)

Had I been born a decade or two later than I was, I might’ve been diagnosed with a learning or emotional disability:  There were some things I simply could not learn no matter how much I studied or how hard I tried, and I sometimes did things that were deemed “inappropriate”—or didn’t do things I was “supposed to” do—because I couldn’t understand someone or something that made sense to everyone else, or seemed to. 

Here is a “condition” that non-cyclists I know would “diagnose” in me, even if they don’t call it by that name: