All Aboard The Bike Train

If you grew up in the US, or have studied American History, you know that the Underground Railroad isn't the New York City subway system and, in fact, has nothing to do with steel wheels screeching on tracks.

Likewise, a Bike Train isn't something Amtrak or any other railroad system has set aside for us.  It refers to a group of cyclists who ride, in a train, and are joined by other cyclists along the way.

I'll confess that I just learned about Bike Trains when I received a BikeNYC e-mail from Transportation Alternatives.  The cycling concatenation in question begins at the very upper end of Manhattan, near the Cloisters, and wends its way down the Hudson River Greenway to Midtown.  It departs at 8 on Friday mornings and is intended to provide "safety in numbers."

Bike Train in Brighton, England

More than two decades ago, I lived not far from the train's starting point.  Back then, they probably wouldn't have picked up very many cyclists until the caravan reached the area around Columbia University, nearly five miles to the south.  Or they may have had to go even further downtown before they had anything that could be called, without irony, a train.

 

Two-Wheeled Dreams

I rarely recall my dreams and, frankly, don't make much effort to do so.  I have enough trouble making sense of things that happen in my waking life, which are often less logical, and even more surreal, than anything I see after laying my head and closing my eyes.

That said, I have ridden bicycles in at least a few of my dreams, and bicycles I own, or have owned, have figured in others.

According to psychologists, there are all sorts of ways to interpret a dream of riding a bike.  It can be seen as a need or yearning for balance in one's life.  Some say that riding a bicycle uphill signifies bright prospects, while a downhill spin can be a warning sign.  

From Deniziazicioglu

Not long ago, I had a dream in which I lost and recovered Arielle.  And, last night, in yet another REM-induced vision, I was pedaling Tosca along a road that isn't one I ride every day, but I recognized from somewhere--somehow, upon waking, I thought it was France. Anyway, while riding through a valley, with sunflower fields fading from view, I spotted a bike I hadn't seen in years:  a Peugeot mixte my mother owned but didn't ride very much.  

I gave it to her one Christmas in my youth when I started to make some money and was trying to get everyone I know to ride bikes.  Actually, she talked about riding, as she was trying to get more exercise, in part, to ward off some of the illnesses that befell her mother.  

She hasn't had that bike in years.  If I recall correctly, she gave it away (after asking, almost apologetically, whether I'd mind) when she and my father moved. 

So, why was that Peugeot mixte doing in a dream that didn't include my mother?

 

An Inverted Ghost Bike

If you live in New York, or another city with a lot of cyclists, you've probably seen a Ghostbike:  a bicycle, painted white and locked to a signpost or other structure, to memorialize a cyclist (usually named on a plaque next to the bike) who was killed or severely injured.

They are stark and somber reminders of the fact that safe travel is still not seen as a right we, as cyclists, have in the same measure as motorists.  I also see it as a way to honor the memory of someone who, as likely as not, died needlessly.  On the other hand, such shrines probably convince others that cycling in urban areas--or cycling generally--is "too dangerous". 

Of course, succumbing to such a fear is not the way to make conditions safer, not only for cyclists, but also for pedestrians (who are probably killed as often as cyclists are), particularly those who are young children, elderly or disabled.

Likewise, one doesn't prevent war or any other kind of violence by acquiescing to one's fears about it.  As Martin Luther King Jr. and other leaders of the Civil Rights movement showed us, the way to end or prevent war is to work for peace, and the way to combat injustice is to work for justice.

All right, I'll get off my soapbox now.  I got on it when I saw this:

I think of it as a kind of inverse--a photograph negative, if you will--to the Ghostbike.  The flower-festooned bike, parked at the corner of Hudson and Barrow Streets in Greenwich Village, is publicizing the "Peace Ride" led by Time's Up.  It leaves from the Ghandhi statue in Union Square Park at 2pm on the third Sunday of every month, and takes cyclists on a tour of the city's "peace sites".