Harley Plugging Into E-Bikes

 Is an e-bike really a bicycle?  What about a motorized bicycle?  What's the difference between a motorbike and a bicycle with a motor?  And, at what point did a bicycle with a motor attached to it become a motorcycle?

That last question certainly would have been relevant, or at least interesting in the first years of the 20th Century.  That's when the first "motorcycles" were introduced.  More than a century later, they look more like fat-tired "cruiser" bicycles (like the ones Schwinn and Columbia made before the 70s Bike Boom) with motors attached than, say, something one might expect to find in a Harley-Davidson showroom.

Unless it's this Harley: 

Although it comes from H-D, it's not called a "Harley."  Rather, the company has called it--and the division that will offer it--Serial 1.  The machine in the photo is a prototype of what will be available in the Spring of 2021, according to the company.

It's interesting that Harley is going "full circle" in an attempt to renew itself.  I can remember when riding a Harley was a sign of marching (OK, riding) to one's own drummer: Think of Wyatt (played by Peter Fonda) and Billy (Dennis Hopper) in Easy Rider.  These days, though, the guy perched on a Harley is more likely to be a dentist who's, oh, about my age than a young, footloose rebel.  Harley-Davidson sales have been all but nonexistent among millenials and not much better among Generation X.  

Could a Harley, rather than a DeLorean, be the vehicle that brings young people back to the future?

No Saddle, But Plenty Of Seats

It's one thing to be forced off my bike.  It's another to be forced into this:

I know, I could have hailed a cab or Uber, or called a friend for a ride. But it seemed simpler to take the train, especially since it took me almost to the entrance of where I needed to be.

It had been at least eight months since I'd been on the subway.  I know that because I hadn't been on a train, or a bus, since at least a month before everything shut down and I started working from home.  Now that I think of it, I think my last subway trip, before yesterday, was in January, when I picked up a pair of wheels.  I've carried wheels on my bike before, but it's easier to take a train or bus.

I never imagined that while living in New York, I'd go for so long without using mass transit.  But we had a mild, dry winter before the pandemic struck, so I managed to ride to work every day.

It was almost surreal to be on the N train at the tail end of the morning rush hour and see empty seats everywhere.  And the MTA isn't even restricting the number of riders who can enter or blocking off seats:  There are just fewer people riding.

Still, I'd rather be on my bike.  I hope the more-optimistic prediction I got from the orthopedic doctor comes true!

Recovery, X2

Yesterday I saw an orthopedic doctor.  My muscle strain, though painful, is not serious, he said:  "Take it easy, it'll heal itself."  He took some of the stitches out of my leg and substituted surgical tape.  

I don't know whether he's a cyclist, but he deals a lot with sports injuries.  So he understood when I complained that not cycling--when, it seems, everyone else in the world is turning their pedals and spinning their wheels through streets and paths dusted with red and gold and brown leaves fluttered down from wizening boughs--is driving me totally nuts.  "About two more weeks, if this keeps up," he said about my recovery.  That, to be fair, is a bit more optimistic than what the folks in the Long Island Jewish emergency room told me.  "That makes sense," he said.  "In ERs, they're zealous with their treatment and advice."

Of course, I don't mind now that the ER doctors and nurses were "zealous":  It may be the reason why I'm recovering well, so far.  But, oh, I want to get back on my bike.  And I don't want to gain back the weight I've lost during the last few months!

One irony in all of this is that the day after I got home from the hospital, I got a call from a doctor at the Westchester Medical Center Brain and Spine Center, where I ended up after my June accident.  The bleeding near my brain had cleared up, he said, and the latest images show no residual damage.  But, he admonished me to "be careful" because another impact to my head can magnify the trauma I suffered in the first accident.

"I will," I promised.  I didn't tell him why.

(Thank you to everyone who checked in on me!)