In A City That Never Sleeps, Should Its Bike-Share Program Take A Rest?

One of Frank Sinatra's best-known recordings is his cover of the theme song from Martin Scorsese's "New York, New York".  One of the most famous lines in that song goes, "I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps."

Of course, The Big Apple was known as "The City That Never Sleeps" long before Sinatra recorded that song, or Scorsese made the movie.  Many things in this town operate 24/7.  One of them is the mass-transit system.  To my knowledge, Chicago is the only other US city where the trains and buses run 'round-the-clock.  Even such metropoli as Paris and London, where the buses operate at all hours, shut down their subway systems for a few hours every day.

While we New Yorkers take pride in a subway system that never sleeps, not many of us use it between one and five a.m.--the hours when, as it happens, the Paris Metro trains don't run.  Of course, most of the people who use it during those hours work night shifts and, as often as not, don't make a lot of money.  (Many of them are immigrants.)  Still, I can understand why the folks who run this system and the city question the wisdom of running subways all night:  A train costs as much to operate from three to four a.m. as it does from six to seven p.m, but carries far fewer passengers.  

Those nearly-empty subway cars in the wee hours are one reason why the newest Regional Plan, released last month, suggests that the 24/7 subway system should become 24/3, with the trains running at all hours on weekends, when ridership is greatest.  Another reason why such a scheme is being proposed is that it would make it easier to do much-needed maintenance and, in some cases, rebuilding.  That is what happens in Paris, London and other cities that shut down their trains in the pre-dawn hours.

So...How does the question of whether mass transit systems should run 24/7 relate to a bike-share program in Port Huron, Michigan?

Well, that town is shutting down its bike-share program for a few weeks.  One reason is that, "We've seen a dramatic drop-off" in usage "since the second week in October,"  according to Dave McElroy.  The general manager and finance director of Blue Water Area Transit, which runs the program, says that the bikes will be stowed away in early January and brought back around the first week of March.

Statue of young Thomas Edison in front of the Blue Water Bridge, Port Huron, Michigan

Why have fewer people used the bikes since October?  The same reason why fewer people, in general, ride bikes in places like Port Huron:  the days get shorter, the weather turns colder, and snow soon follows.  Climatic conditions are another reason why the bikes are being stored:  In most bike share programs, the bikes are outdoors most, if not all, of the time.  That leaves them vulnerable to the ravages of snow, sleet, rain and other elements.

And, I would imagine, shutting down the program would allow the program's employees or volunteers the time to inspect, maintain and repair bikes.

So...I now wonder whether other cities where bike ridership is seasonal might consider following Port Huron's example in shutting down their bike share programs for a few weeks during the winter.  

But...If we were to do that here in New York, would we still be a "city that never sleeps"?

When It's Gone In Tucson: You Have A 3 Percent Chance

I feel like somebody broke my leg.

Tucson, Arizona resident Leif Abrell voiced what many of us felt when a bicycle was stolen from us.  He lost his custom-made mountain bike in the wee hours of 28 September.  Like most bike-theft victims, he didn't see that his trusty steed was gone until it was too late:  A noise woke him and he noticed the door to his carport was open.  He checked to see whether anything valuable was missing, but in his groggy state, it didn't occur to him to look in the dining room of his midtown home.  When he did, he saw that his treasured bike was missing.  And he found a much-inferior bike deserted on the side of the street next to his house.

The rest of his story is also all-too-familiar to those of us who've had our wheels whisked away:  He reported his loss to the police.  While he "didn't have high hopes" for recovering his bike, he clung to "some hopes that something would happen," he recounted.  Alas, "nothing really happened," he said.

I learned of Abrell's ordeal from an article on Tucson.com.  According to that same article, 1200 bike thefts have been reported to police in "The Old Pueblo".  Only about three percent of those cases ended in arrests of suspected thieves and, worse, there's really how many stolen bikes are returned to their rightful owners.  As in most cities, the police don't track that.

Perhaps most disheartening of all, 63 percent of this year's bike theft cases were marked as "cleared", meaning they reached some sort of conclusion. Why is that disheartening?  Well, most of those cases were closed because there wasn't enough evidence to continue an investigation.  

Everything I've mentioned confirms something known to most of us who have had bikes stole:  Once it's gone, you'll probably never see it again.

Chris Hawkins, a Tucson police spokesman, echoed a common refrain in explaining why it's so difficult to track stolen bicycles:  In most places, "bicycles don't need to be registered like vehicles."  And, he says, bicycle owners rarely record serial numbers, which can be entered into databases for access by owners of second-hand shops and other establishments where stolen bikes might end up. 

The lack of such records, Hawkins says, is one reason why, even when bikes are retrieved by cops and find their way to the evidence room, they are seldom re-united with their owners.  

While Hawkins makes good points, the cynic in me (I am a New Yorker, after all) wonders whether some police departments would actively pursue bike a bike theft even if they had serial numbers and other records.  While some officers, like some people in other professions and jobs, simply don't care, others are simply overwhelmed by competing priorities and directives. 

Sometimes I think one has the best hope of getting a stolen bike back if a shop owner or mechanic recognizes it--or if its owner encounters it on the street.

Driving Drunk + Hitting Cyclist = 28 Days

Woman Sentenced to Jail for OWI After Hitting Teen on Bicycle

Although I wasn't happy to hear about another cyclist hit by a car, I was somewhat heartened, if only for a moment, when I read "Woman Sentenced".  Too often, motorists who hit and injure, or even kill, cyclists get off scot-free--or don't get much more than the proverbial "slap on the wrist."

Unfortunately, the latter was actually the case for the woman in the headline.  Yes, she is going to jail--for 28 days.  Now, if she had been like the driver who stayed at the scene after smacking into a 14-year-old Guatemalan boy in Brooklyn last month, I might have thought the sentence too harsh.  But there are other, shall we say, mitigating circumstances.

Those circumstances include the fact that she left the scene--and that she was intoxicated.  But, oh, no, this isn't an isolated incident in her resume:  This is her third drunk driving arrest.

Karen Nugent

Karen Nugent probably knew that she was facing serious time--say, five years, which is what the law allows for someone with her record in Michigan, where she smacked into that teenager.  So she pleaded guilty and got a deal:  The charges were reduced to a second-offense Operating While Intoxicated (OWI) and not stopping at the scene of an accident.  

I don't know whether I am more upset at Ms. Nugent--or the judge in Benzie County who made the deal with her.