Can A Bicycle Make Your Life 15 Percent Better?

Almost nobody would dispute that receiving a bicycle will improve an impoverished person's lot in life.  But  by how much?

Dave Schweidenback, founder and CEO of Pedals for Progress, has an answer:  "Every one of those bikes represents a minimum 15 percent increase of income for the individual who gets it."

He was referring specifically to the bikes the Green Mountain Returned Peace Corps volunteers are collecting for Pedals for Progress, who is sending them to Guatemala and other developing countries.  But his claim is probably valid in reference to bikes donated to just about anyone, anywhere, whose income-earning (and, in many cases, educational) opportunities are constricted by a lack of transportation.  I would imagine that receiving a bicycle would enable not only people going to regular jobs in stores, factories, offices or other sites, but also folks who weave, sew, cook, bake, carve, paint or practice other crafts--many of whom are women-- and sell their wares.  They could use bicycles to bring their work, say, to a marketplace or to deliver to people's homes.

Dave Schweidenback, founder and CEO of Pedals for Progress, with the 150,000th bike collected.

Speaking of which:  The Vermont-based Peace Corps group is  collecting, in addition to bicycles, used sewing machines.  I would imagine that while a bicycle might increase someone's income by 15 percent, it--or a sewing machine-- might allow someone else in an impoverished area to work in the first place.

He Says We're Charity Cases

When laws or policies are enacted so that members of "minority" groups can love and marry whomever their hearts desire, get jobs commensurate with their education and skills, and live in communities they can afford--and where their children will enjoy the same opportunities as their majority-culture peers--some folks whine that we're getting "special privileges."

This phenomenon is, sadly, hardly unique to the US.  It persists in other places, though the "minority" group in question might be different.  And the fear and resentment echoed in that complaint might be expressed in different language or other ways.

An example Patrick Lefevere's answer when presented with the idea of starting a women's cycling team in the manner of Movistar, FDJ or Trek-Segafredo.  The Decuninick-Quickstep team boss, widely regarded as the most succesful cycling team manager in history, hails from Belgium, arguably the most cycling-intense country in the world.  So, if anyone seemed a likely candidate to launch a top-tier women's team, he would be the one.

So how did he respond?  "I'm not the OMCW"--a Belgian welfare organization.

To be fair, he claimed he doesn't have "the experience, time, money or desire" for such an undertaking.  Perhaps his pockets aren't as deep (or it's more expensive to start a team)  and the time commitment in running a team is greater, than we suspected. Also, he's 66 years old, so he may want to spend whatever time he has on other pursuits--or his grandkids.  

But his experience?  While female racers differ from their male counterparts, I think someone like him can spot talent and train people.

Belgian Team Liv member celebrates her victory ahead of Elisa Longo Borghini in La Vuelta Stage 4 (Getty Images)

Again, in the interests of fairness, I should point out that he doesn't know how to convince someone with the requisite talent and skills to become a professional cyclist--a pursuit that, at times, has more in common with the life of a monk or nun than a rock star.  And, he claims that there's a chasm between the level of Belgian female cyclists and their peers in neighboring Netherlands, which has turned out champions like Marianne Vos.

Now, if he'd stuck to his claims about talent levels or what he was able and willing, or not, to commit to a women's team, he at least would have had some credibility.  But to liken such an undertaking to a welfare organization is to say, in essence, that we're charity cases.  We aren't, any more than the US Women's Soccer team is.  

Disrupting Mass Transit--With A Citibike

For me, it was the kind of story that I couldn't believe when I first heard it, three nights ago.  But once it "sank in," I wasn't surprised.

After all, bikes from share programs have ended up in exotic faraway places, at the bottoms of rivers and canals or in "chop shops."  Theft and vandalism killed the bike share program in Rome and nearly did so in other cities.

But the way a Citibike in my home town met its demise--and disrupted transit service in my neighborhood--took aggression against public bike programs to a new level.

At the Steinway Street station--which is the second-closest subway stop to my apartment--someone tossed one of the blue share bikes onto the tracks.

It just happened that two trains, traveling in opposite directions, entered the station.  Whether or not it was the vandal's intention, the bike landed in just the right spot for both trains to hit it, or parts of it.    

Here's the result:

Was the vandal's intention to "blow up" Citibike--or the subway system?