Tout A Velo In Paris

 As I said on Saturday, and in earlier posts, if any municipality is serious about getting people to ride bikes rather than drive to work or school, or for fun, building bike lanes is just one step.

And it’s a legitimate step if and only if (See what I learned in my formal logic class?) those lanes are well-designed, -constructed and -maintained—and practical.  

On that last condition:  Building bike lanes that begin  and end in seemingly-arbitrary locations, without any markers or any other indicators, serves no one.  People will give up four wheels for two if, among other things, bike lanes actually connect places people ride to and from, safely.  Of course, I don’t mean that people should have lanes directly from their front doors to their desks or work stations. But bike and pedestrian paths should make it possible to go from, say, a central point in a residential neighborhood to a business or cultural district in the way of good mass transit systems—like, say, the one in Paris.

Photo by Ludivic Marin, for Agence France Presse

Apparently, the City of Light’s Mayor, Anne Hidalgo, has such a vision.  She won a second term last June on a platform that included making Paris a city “tout á velo”—totally cycleable—by 2026. To that end, the French capital is investing 250 million Euros to improve its cycling infrastructure.  

Among other things, 52 km (about 32 miles) of “coronapistes”—temporary lanes created during the pandemic—will be upgraded and made permanent. To that, another 130 km will be added to the existing 100 km.  These additions and upgrades will make it possible to cycle from one end to another, and to and from key locations, within the city as well as in the adjacent suburbs.Even more important, those lanes will be planned to make it safer for cyclists to cross intersections, thus addressing another concern of people who say they’d consider cycle commuting but worry about safety.

Hidalgo’s plan will also address another concern—bike theft—by adding 100,000 new secure parking spaces, including 1000 for cargo bikes.

Budding Fall At The Harbor

Yesterday I started riding to Connecticut.  But in Mamaroneck, a bit more than halfway up, I detoured into a couple of cute downtowns and onto lanes that wind by mansions, country clubs and horse trotting courses, and through tax-shelter farms.

When I ended up back on Boston Post Road in Mamaroneck, I stopped to eat the bagel and small wedge of cheese I packed in the bag of Zebbie, my Mercian King of Mercia with the striped seat tube.  

Honestly, I rode her for one reason:  She looks autumnal.  So did the scene at Mamaroneck harbor, at least somewhat.

If you look closely or enlarge the image, you can see budding Fall foliage on the right.  Actually, it looks (to me, anyway) like someone lightly brushed red and orange across a cluster of leaves.  

He Lost His Key, Not His BIke

The pandemic has brought both out the altruism and avariciousness of people.  It's also revealed their creativity and hideboundedness, as well as their brilliance and sheer stupidity.

Examples of the latter include the woman who got busted for using a fake vaccine card.  Her forgery was detected because the name of the vaccine she didn't receive was spelled "Maderna."

As if there isn't enough boneheadedness to go around, a probably-soon-to-be-former San Jose Sharks forward Evander Kane got himself suspended for a quarter of the season because he violated the National Hockey League's COVID-19 protocol.  His offense?  He submitted a fake vaccine card.

And, to prove that idiocy knows no boundaries, there's Singapore Police Station inspector Ong Chee Seng.  On 26 May, the 50-year-old rode his foldable bicycle to a shopping mall so he could buy lunch. When he returned to his bike, he couldn't find his key.  He tried to borrow a cutter from the mall's security personnel, but they wouldn't help him because they couldn't verify that the bike was his.

Later that day, he sent a message on his WhatsApp group chat, asking whether he could borrow a cutter.  One friend jokingly suggested that he call the police and claim he'd found his stolen bicycle.  The constables, this friend jested, could then perform a "free service" for him.

The rest of this story illustrates something else we've learned during this pandemic:  There's no counsel so bad that nobody will follow it. (Think of the folks who followed Trump's advice and injected themselves with cleaning products.) So, Ong called the Punggol Neighborhood Police Center and told the officer who answered, "I found my stolen bicycle here at the bicycle bay of Waterway Point.  I need police assistance."

Google Street View image

He led officers dispatched to the scene to another nearby location, claiming it was stolen when he locked it there.  When one of the officers said he'd check the CCTV cameras, Ong confessed to his lie. He was then charged with providing false information to police that led to an investigation.

On 3 September, he was suspended from the Singapore Police Force and the other day, he was fined $3000.  The SPF has also initiated "internal action" against him. If stupidity were a crime, his sentence surely would have been greater.