We Love Our Bikes--But Not The Way She Loves Hers

If you read this blog regularly, you probably "love" your bicycle(s).

I use the word "love" in quotations because, although most of us would say that our bikes make our lives better in any number of ways, what we mean by "love" can be very different.  

For me, my bicycles have meant that I can commute without having to deal with traffic jams, crowded subway or bus stations and the costs of gasoline, tolls and parking, among other things.  My bikes have also given me many hours of pleasure, whether I've pedaled the back streets of the Bronx or Belleville, a path through Cambodian rice fields or jungles or a seaside ramble. Oh, and I've even moved my possessions from one apartment to another on my bike.

In short, I have a difficult time imagining my life without bikes or bicycling.  Others could say the same thing, though for very different reasons.  

Esther Deaver is one such person.  Known as "The Bicycle Lady" to residents of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, she not only depends on her bike; she lives on or with (depending on your point of view) it.  She doesn't own much else in this world, and most of her meals consist of what she finds or  local residents and merchants give her. 

As you have probably realized, she lives on the streets.  There are a number of stories about how she got there, but the most verifiable accounts say that she went to Winston-Salem with a church group and lost touch with her family.  Not surprisingly, mental health issues seem to have played a role.

She has never tried to harm anyone, and attempts to place her in institutions have been unsuccessful.  So some people keep an eye out for her and try to help her in whatever ways they can.

Other people, though, are not so benevolent.  One took her bike recently.  An anonymous benefactor left her a new one.  The gift has everything she likes except for a banana seat and sissy bar.  But the owner of a local bike shop says he can remedy that for her.

Even with that anonymous gift, she still feels sad about losing her old bike.  It may have been the sort of machine at which many of us would have turned up our noses.  But she loved that bike in ways most of us could never understand.

The Idaho Stop Comes To Oregon

A couple of months ago, I wrote that Jonathan Maus, the editor/publisher of Bike Portland, was trying to persuade the Oregon legislature to legalize the "Idaho Stop."  In essence, it allows cyclists to treat a red traffic signal as a "stop" sign and a "stop" sign as a "yield" sign.  What this means is that a cyclist wouldn't have to stop unless traffic were crossing the intersection.  That allows cyclists to get out in front of the traffic approaching him or her from behind, and to cross ahead of incoming traffic. These maneuvers prevent cyclists from being hit by turning vehicles.

Of course, people who don't cycle don't understand as much. They think that cyclists must behave exactly like drivers and  stop when and where the drivers stop.  They also think we are supposed to ride as far to the right as possible, which of course exponentially increases our chances of getting flattened by a turning car or truck--or of getting "doored."

Apparently, 28 such people in the Oregon legislature think this way.  Fortunately, 31 others "get it", and voted to bring the "Idaho Stop" to Oregon on Tuesday 25 June.  The bill will now go to Governor Kate Brown's desk for signing, and will become law six months from now, on New Year's Day of 2020.

What He Learned From The Army And Huck Finn

In the military, and in other large, bureaucratic organizations, it's often said that it's "easier to get forgiveness than permission."

What that means is that if you know something is useful, constructive or just good, it's best just to go ahead and do it rather than to wait for approval, which might be denied because of some technicality or mere whim.  

One thing is for certain:  Whatever you want to do, or get, won't come as a result of prayer.  Such great minds as Huckleberry Finn have reminded us of that:  

Miss Watson she took me in the closet and prayed, but nothing come of it. She told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't make it work. By and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told me why, and I couldn't make it out no way.

Well, it seems that someone has, at a very young age, internalized the lessons of Huck and the Army:

Let's hope that he retains his healthy cynicism about prayer and forgiveness--but learns that stealing is, well, not good for one's karma.