A Bronx Bike Dealer

This is a Bronx bicycle dealer:

Believe it or not, this photo came up when I typed "bicycle Bronx" in Google.  I know the Bronx fairly well--though, I admit, not as well as I know Brooklyn, Manhattan or Queens--and could not recall seeing anything that looks like the shop, or its locale, in the only New York City borough that's part of the mainland United States.

But, really, they are a Bronx bicycle dealer. Granted, that photo is from 1948, but the shop in question--L.J. Stronnell Cycles--is still in business, in the same location in Buckinghamshire.

Buckinghamshire doesn't sound like a neighborhood in the Bronx, does it?  Well, it shouldn't:  I don't think there's any place in the Bronx with "shire" at the end of its name. 

Those of you in the UK know that it's where, for ages, rich Londoners have spent idyllic holidays.  And not without reason:  Much of it is quite lovely, with its rolling hills and rivers.  But it's becoming more developed, as more and more of said Londoners are moving there and commuting into the city. 

OK, so what does all of this have to do with the Bronx?, you ask.  Well, it turns out that Stronnell sells Bronx bicycles.  No, they're not airlifted from the Grand Concourse or Fordham Road.  Bronx Cycles, believe it or not, is a line of bicycles available in the UK but not in the US (at least, not to my knowledge).

It's interesting that with all of the cachet the Brooklyn brand, if you will, has gained all over the world, a popular line of bicycles in England would be named for New York's most maligned borough.

I guess whoever came up with the name was trying to evoke images of toughness.  Or, perhaps, that person (or those people) actually spent time in the Bronx and realized that it has a number of interesting places besides the Zoo, Botanical Gardens and Yankee Stadium--and some good cycling and fine people. 

Perhaps they know what I have been telling people:  One day, anything related to the Bronx will be just as hip and fashionable as anything connected to Brooklyn is today. I can't say exactly when it will happen, but the day is certainly coming.  When it does, will hipsters be wheeling their fixies to craft-beer cafes on Bruckner Boulevard--while English cycle-tourists roll across the countryside on Bronx bicycles?

This Bike Share Program Could Come Up Roses

Portland, Oregon is often called the most "bike-friendly" city in the US.  I have never been there, but from what I've read and heard, it probably deserves that designation.

Ironically, it doesn't have a bike share program.  That may soon change.  Today, Mayor Charlie Hales and Commissioners Nick Fish (great name, huh?) and Steve Novick have announced a proposal that could make 600 bikes available for public use.

Sometimes "coming to the party" later can have its advantages.  Bike share programs in New York, Paris and other cities had a "learning curve" that Portland won't have:  They had to work out technical problems and find ways to combat problems such as the theft of the programs' bikes.  The folks in Portland will be able to draw upon what their peers in the Big Apple, the City of Light and other places have learned from their experiences with their bike share programs.

One of those problems is what deters folks like me from using Citibike, Velib or other similar programs:  What to do if there's no bike port in sight.  In Paris, I noticed, it probably wouldn't have been much of a problem, as the ports seemed to be everywhere in the city and in points beyond. (Still, I prefer to have a bike for which I don't have to think about such things.  I'd rent again from Paris Bike Tour or bring my own bike.)  However, here in New York, the ports were found, until recently, only in lower Manhattan and in the Brooklyn neighborhoods closest to Manhattan (e.g., Williamsburg).  So, if I were to ride, say, from one of those places to my apartment, or to work, I would almost certainly exceed the time limit.  Taking longer recreational rides would almost certainly be out of the question, let alone using a Citibike to go to museums, galleries and such.

In Portland, I imagine the problem I described would be even more acute, as it's more of a sprawling city than New York or Paris, or others--like Boston and Montreal--that have bike share programs.

Cyclists departing Boston's City Hall plaza to help launch Hubway--the city's bike share program in July 2011.

According to the Portland Bureau of Transportation, there are 3000 bike racks in the City of Roses.  According to John Brady, the PBT's Director of Communications, the bikes in the program would include a locking technology that work on any of those racks--in effect turning them into docking stations. 

That, I think, could go a long way toward turning a bike share program in Portland--or in many other cities--into a truly viable part of the transportation system.  A city that doesn't have many bike racks could probably install them for a good deal less money than special bike ports.  Also, there probably would be less objection to regular bike racks than to the ports, which take up a lot more room.  Their smaller size and relative ease of installation would also make them easier to build in, or next to, train and bus stations or municipal parking lots.

 

24-Karat Stupidity

A few months ago, I wrote a post in which I related something a police commander told me once:  "Lucky for us that most criminals are stupid."

Citibike--the bike-share program in my hometown, New York City, is fortunate that at least one thief was foolish.

Yesterday, when I was on my way to meet a friend for lunch, I saw a bike propped against garbage cans in front of a row house.

I took a photo of it which I, unfortunately, deleted accidentally.  However, the bike looked very much like the one in this image:

The perp took a Citibike and sprayed it with gold paint.  Said crook covered the serial number and anything with the Citibike logo  However, he (as a former male, I am assuming--not unreasonably, I believe--the thief is male) did not spray the front of the bike.  Thus, the head tube and fork showed the familiar Citibike blue:  a shade not found on very many other bikes.

Also. as you can see from this photo, the frame's distinctive shape, as well as the integrated front baskets and fenders, make Citibikes difficult to camouflage, even with a heavy spraying of paint.

As if the ham-fisted paint job wasn't vain enough as an attempt to hide the bike, the voleur chose one of the worst possible colors for the job:  metallic gold.  In the first photo, I spray-brushed the bike with the color, of the ones available on my app, that came closest to what I saw on that bike.  The hue is about right, but the thief used a brighter, more metallic, version of it.

I thought about calling Citibike when one of their vans pulled up.  I'm guessing that someone saw the bike before I did and called.  I wonder whether that person was chuckling, as I was, about the thief's color choice and lack of painting skills.