A Smog Chaser On A BIcycle?

No sooner had I left behind the oppressive atmosphere of the city and that reek of smoking cookers which pour out, along with clouds of ashes, all of the poisonous fumes they have accumulated in their interiors whenever they have started up, than I noticed the change in my condition.

The "city" in the above passage is Rome.  The person who made wrote that observation about it, and the change in his health upon leaving it, was the philosopher and statesman Seneca, nearly two millenia ago.

His was hardly the first observation about air pollution and its effects.  Nor would such observations cease to be made until the twentieth century.  About five centuries after Seneca, Gregory of Tours, in his Historia Francorum (History of the Franks), makes passing mention of robes smudged by smoke that lingered in the air.

But from the beginning of the Industrial Revolution until the middle of the 20th Century, air--and other types of--pollution were seen as "the price of progress" and, for some, simply making a living. (Interestingly, the Democratic Party, with was largely opposed or indifferent to environmental concerns until the mid-20th Century, while most conservationists--who weren't necessarily thinking about the overall environment--were Republicans.)  Then, a series of deadly smogs--first in mill towns like Donora, Pennsylvania and later in bigger cities like London and New York--made people aware of the dangers of air pollution.

Those toxic clouds also made lay people as well as scientists aware of the need to document specific kinds of air pollution.  Devices became more sophisticated and portable, and data analysis more granular.  But one thing those devices and pieces of information failed to convey is how widely pollution can vary in a relatively small area.  So, a city that is considered relatively "clean" can have pockets--or even larger areas--of concentrated CO2 and other contaminants.

That is where the bicycle comes in.  We all know that turning two pedals to spin two wheels instead of stepping on one pedal to propel four wheels is one of the more effective measures a person can take in helping to reduce carbon emissions.  But now bicycles themselves are being used to identify, not just large areas of pollutions, but those areas--sometimes unexpected--that have concentrations of emissions.

One of those smog-chasers on bicycles is Jordi Mazon in Barcelona, Spain.  He uses an electronic device attached to his bike's handlebars to record variations in emissions all over his city.  His work has revealed, not only variations in the levels and types of pollution, but how quickly it can spread from one area to another.  Among other things, they show us how inadequate a number for a whole city or town, especially (though he doesn't specifically mention it) when pollution disproportionately affects particular communities and people, mainly the poor and those who are considered "minorities."  

Mazon even suggests that governments deploy cyclists with the devices--which are no larger than a typical bike computer and cost around 200 Euros--to take readings in specific areas at specific times.  In addition to the relative low cost, another advantage is that people on bicycles can be sent fairly quickly into small areas without adding to the very phenomenon they are sent to measure.

Hmm...Could that be another career for me--a smog-chaser on a bike?

Is A Cyclist's Life Worth $1166 And 12 Hours?

In some recent posts, I have taken heart in the fact that some drivers are being held to account in meaningful ways for injuring or killing cyclists.

Still, there have been many more incidents in which drivers got off with the proverbial "slap on the wrist."

Troy Manz was doing a 72-hour "sea to sea" race from Florida's Gulf to Atlantic coasts in February of last year.  The former Marine turned emergency flight doctor and National Guardsman.  He and his fiancee, Trish Wilkinson were just 20 miles from their destination--St. Augustine Beach (where I've pedaled during every trip to my parents' house) when they and a friend, Barbara Gilmore, were struck from behind by a car going about 70 miles per hour.  

Wilkinson and Gilmore were taken to the hospital and treated for their injuries.  Manz, however, died at the scene.

Last week they testified in a traffic case against the driver, Jonathan Quick.  While his blood alcohol level was determined to be below the legal limit, conditions were clear and, as Wilkinson recalled, "we took every precaution, we did everything safely."  They all wore helmets and had lights on the front and rear of their bikes.  Moreover, they complied with all relevant traffic laws, according to the Florida Highway Patrol report of the incident.

Quick was initially charged with careless driving and failure to yield the right of way. The judge in last week's hearing upheld the latter charge but dropped the one for careless driving.  As a result, Quick was sentenced to 12 hours of driver improvement school and an $1166 fine.

So..was that judge saying that Troy Manz's life was worth only $1166 and 12 hours?

Perhaps not surprisingly, Quick had a history of driving infractions before he ran into Manz, Wilkinson and Gilmore.  "I'm very concerned that this is going to happen to someone else and nothing that happened in the court system will keep the keys out of his hand or  will be any sort of repercussion," Wilkinson lamented.

She astutely identified the problem:  Such lenient sentences do nothing to prevent future incidents and, really, give no incentive for scofflaw drivers to change their behavior.

Enjoying The View When You Can't See

Jose Saramago's Blindness, first published nearly a quarter-century ago, might be seen as a kind of "pandemic" novel in a similar way to Colin Whitehead's Zone One and Albert Camus' La Peste (The Plague).  In the Portuguese writer's work, an epidemic of blindness affects nearly everyone in an unnamed city.  Perhaps not surprisingly, the social order breaks down, along with the infrastructure and conditions in the asylum where the first of the afflicted end up.  

I was thinking of it this morning, during a ride in which I did a couple of errands before going to work, because the way Saramago describes the sudden loss of sight is almost the opposite of the way most people picture blindness.  Like most people, I have imagined the complete loss of sight in the way I imagine death:  everything going black.  But in Saramago's novel, for those stricken, everything suddenly goes white.

Now, I hope not to go blind, whether that means everything in the world going black, white or some other color or form I can't conceive.  But, if I had to not see, for a moment, probably the best (or least-bad) way I can think of is this:

That was my view, if you will, from the Williamsburg Bridge.  Now, if I were a tourist, I'm not sure of whether I'd feel that it added to the allure of the city or be disappointed that I didn't get that view of the skyline so many envision before coming here.  

For those of us who've live in this city, a foggy morning might look more like this:

That is a view down 22nd Street in Long Island City, about half a mile from my apartment. 

Of course, I made sure to use my "blinkies," front and rear.  That might be a reason why I had no problem with the traffic--and enjoyed the views of what I couldn't see.