An Opportunity For Arkansas Cyclists

Say "Idaho" to most people, and they think of "potatoes."

You might think about them if you're a cyclist:  They are, after all, a good energy source. (An old riding buddy used to keep two baked spuds in his jersey pockets.) But you might also associate another word with the Gem State: "Stop."

Way back in 1982, the state passed a law allowing cyclists to treat red lights as "Stop" signs and "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs.  It also allows cyclists to ride through a red light if there is no cross-traffic in the intersection.  These provisions allow cyclists to get ahead of the traffic proceeding in the same direction, making it far less likely that they'll be struck by a turning vehicle.

Since 2011, a few cities in Colorado have enacted stop-as-yield policies.  A Paris decree, issued in 2012 and amended in 2015, allows cyclists to treat certain stop lights (designated by signage) as "Yield" signs.  It also permits cyclists to turn right at red signals or, if there is no street to the right, to proceed avec prudence extreme through the intersection.  To my knowledge, no other US state or other jurisdiction has passed a similar law, though a bill with essentially the same provisions as the Idaho statute was introduced last year in the Utah state legislature and is still making its way through the Statehouse.

But the Utah Yield won't be the second piece of statewide "red-as-stop, stop-as-yield legislation."  On Tuesday, Arkansas Governor Asa Hutchinson signed Act 650, which gives cyclists the same rights as the 1982 Idaho law.

So now that there's an Idaho Stop and it looks like there will be a Utah Yield, Arkansas has to come up with a catchy nickname for their law.  I should think any state that can call itself "The Land of Opportunity" shouldn't have any trouble finding one.

Heading For The Kill

Most days, my commute takes me over the Randall's Island Connector, a car-free bridge that runs underneath the Amtrak trestle--and over the Bronx Kill.

Even though crime is at an all-time low in New York City, the Bronx Kill isn't the only "kill" in the Big Apple--or the Empire State. Before the English came in, the Dutch colonized this area, along with nearby parts of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, in the early 17th Century.  "Kill" comes from the Middle Dutch "kille", which means "riverbed" or "water channel".

So New York had lots of kills even before the Mafia started dumping their bodies in them.

Well, the organization J.Edgar Hoover didn't believe in probably wouldn't have left corpses in something so shallow as the Bronx Kill--even when it's full.  Sometimes the waters cover all those pebbly areas on the shore, and beyond.  One morning, the Kill actually flowed just a couple of feet (or so it seemed) below the bridge.

The Bronx Kill's flow has nothing to do with rain.  Rather, it's affected by the ocean currents, as are the other Kills in New York City.  The Bronx Kill connects the East and Harlem Rivers, both of which are misnamed because they are  tidal estuaries.   Like the Bronx Kill, they have no current of their own:  The direction of their flow is dictated by the tides.

Even with the water so low, I am glad the Connector exists.  My younger self might have ignored the junk revealed by the receding tide and hopped across while hoisting my bike. Or I might have gone looking for the Randall's Island Salamander.

His Travels With Nala

You don't have to spend much time on the Internet to find cats or cyclists, or people traveling the world.

How often, though, do you find an article or anything else about a cat and a cyclist traveling the world together?

Oh, and said cyclist is cycling around the world with his cat.

Back in September, 31-year-old Dean Nicholson left his hometown of Dunbar, Scotland.  He was tired of his job as a welder, so he cycled 200 miles to Newcastle, where he took a ferry to the Netherlands.

From there, he cycled through Europe until he took another ferry from Italy to Croatia.  He continued riding to Bosnia, where, he says, he was "going up a steep hill with music blaring out of my speaker" when "I heard a desperate meow from behind me."  After he got off his bike to stroke the "wee, scrappy little thing", he said,"wouldn't leave my side."

He hadn't planned on finding a traveling companion, but "I just couldn't bring myself to leave her there alone," Nicholson explains.  He named her Nala and they have been "inseparble" ever since and are now in Santorini, Greece.  

Nicholson has set up a Go Fund Me page to pay for Nala's vet bills and get her back to the UK when he finishes his trip.  He's also paying vet bills for Balou, a puppy he found in Albania.  He gets frequent updates on the pooch, who's living with a vet in Albania but will soon have a new home with a family in London. 

I'm sure they'll love Balou.  But they won't have the adventures Nala is sharing with Dean Nicholson!