Is Your Bike Whatever You Lock It To?

If you commute or use your bike for errands, you have to park your bike.  In most cities, that means you have to lock it to something--a sign post, a parking meter, a telephone pole.  Or a tree.

To tell you the truth, I've only hitched my wheels to a trunk once or twice in my life.  No U-lock is wide enough, and you'd need a very long chain or cable.  Also, in many places, it's forbidden to lock your bike to a tree.  

Even where it's allowed, I prefer not to do that to a tree  It's definitely not good for the tree--or, apparently, the bike:

(Images from Guy Sports.)

Escape From The Sunshine State

People move from one state to another for all sorts of reasons.  Chief among them, I suppose, are jobs, family and schooling.  Then there are those who have a warrant out for them in the state they left (One of the great things about getting older is that the statute of limitations runs out!  You didn't hear that from me!) or are simply running away from any number of things.  I fit into that category when I left New Jersey:  Although my childhood wasn't Dickensian (It was more like Everybody Loves Raymond), a day came when I didn't want to be around my family or anybody or anything I knew.

Back then,  I said I'd "escaped" from New Jersey.  Other people, I'm sure, see their exits from one locale or another that way.  And that is how Alan Snel regards quitting Florida and going back to Nevada.

"Ghost Bike" dedicated to Johnny Jones in Jacksonville, Florida

As he reminds Governor Rick Scott in his open letter, posted on his blog Bicycle Stories, the Sunshine State leads the nation in cycling fatalities.  Given that it is the fourth most-populous state, it's not surprising that it also has the highest number of fatalities per million people.  What's most shocking, though is that no other state comes close, with almost twice as many deaths per million as second-place Louisiana and in absolute numbers, it edges out California, which has nearly double the population.

Two months ago, Alan Snel nearly became one of those statistics. He pointed that out in his letter to the Governor, in which he makes this judgment:  "You have showed no political leadership to try and reduce [the number of cycling fatalities] and you and the political leaders just don't care enough to do anything about keeping cyclists alive in your state."

Now I'll admit that my experiences of cycling in Florida are limited to a week or so I spend there every year.  And while there are great beaches and scenery, and it's nice to ride in shorts and T-shirts in December or January, I have even less of a sense that whoever makes decisions there knows or cares even less about cycling than in other places.  That is particularly troubling when you realize how many people ride.  

I always had the sense that, more than in anyplace else I've ridden, planners seem to think that throwing a bone to cyclists by painting a lane here or there is "policy".  And on Florida roads, you're more likely to encounter motorists driving way over the speed limit while under the influence of some substance or another--or are simply ignorant of, or hostile to, cyclists--than you are in, say, Portland--or even New York.

So...Although I usually enjoy the time I spend in Florida, I have no plans to move there.  And I understand why Alan Snel is moving out of it.

Why I've Stripped Helene

The weather has been hot, particularly for this time of year.  But that's not the reason Helene is stripped.

I confess:  I stripped her.  

Why would I do such a thing to a pretty Miss Mercian?  It's not for maintenance:  I haven't been riding her lately.  

Actually, I took off all of her parts for that very reason:  I haven't been riding her.  But don't worry:  I'm not leaving her exposed.

She's getting ready for a journey.  

First I have to put her in a box.  Then she'll be on her way.

A year after I acquired Helene (in the photos below), I found Vera, my other (green, twin-tube) Miss Mercian.  I've been riding that one quite a bit, as you know if you've been reading this blog a while.

So...Helene, it's nothing personal.  You're a great bike.  But you shouldn't have to compete with Vera or any of my other bikes--or anyone or anything else (all right, except for Max and Marlee).  So, I'm sending you off to someone who will give you the attention and good times you deserve.

Yes, I've sold her.  I'd been thinking about doing that for a while. Finally, I found someone who will appreciate her and understands why I'm selling her.

Actually, the fact that I hadn't been riding her isn't the only reason I've sold her.  I'll soon tell you another reason why.