It Didn't Stop Them. It Won't Stop Him.

In the 1980s, two celebrities--Muhammad Ali and Michael J. Fox--used their own struggles with Parkinson's Disease to raise awareness of the affliction.  Moreover, they helped people to realize that Parkinson's wasn't an "old people's disease"--Ali's diagnosis came in his early 40s and Fox's before he turned 30--and that people can live more or less normal lives after a diagnosis and treatment. 

Somehow I don't think Brue Closser's life is more or less normal--or less of anything.  

The 78-year-old resident of Marquette County, on Michigan's Upper Peninsula, has been cycling since the 1970s.  There has been one ride on his "bucket list," he says, and it will commence on 5 May.  On that day, he plans to get on his bike in Yorktown, Virginia and pedal to Astoria, Oregon--in other words, across the United States, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans.

I give "props" to anyone who undertakes such a ride. But the journey Closser has planned is especially notable for two other reasons.  One is that he is riding from east to west:  the opposite direction from that taken by most transcontinental cyclists.  The reason for that is that while there are local and daily variations, the prevailing wind is from west to east.  (That's why a flight from New York to Paris is about an hour shorter than one in the other direction.)  But, perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of his trip will be that when he completes it, he will be, according to the Guinness Book of World Records, the oldest cyclist to complete such a trip.

But the record isn't the reason he's taking the trip, he says.  "I learned a long time ago, don't put off your dreams, because I think I can do it this year, but who knows what next year will bring."  

Whatever it brings, I doubt Parkinson's Disease will stop him.

Let's Hope This "Twist" Isn't Just The Latest Dance Craze

Two and a half years ago, I was "doored" into a potentially-fatal spill.  The reason I survived with a gash that required thirty stitches and torn muscles and ligaments is that traffic stopped just behind me, and a bystander took it upon himself to get water and bandages and to call the police and ambulance.

The driver, to her credit, checked to see whether I was OK and offered help. (Between her driver's and my health insurance, thankfully, it cost me very little.)  And, a few months later, I was nearly doored again on a Sunday afternoon as I pedaled along Metropolitan Avenue in Middle Village--while wearing a high-visibility jacket.  I turned back to yell at the driver, who stated the obvious:  "I wasn't paying attention."  

Other drivers, though, aren't so willing to own up to what they've done.  Even if they open the door as you're next to it, they somehow think it's your responsibility to keep them from dooring you.

Richard Silvester falls somewhere between these two categories of drivers.  Last July, the UK resident had been eating a sausage roll in his car when he opened his door to shake off crumbs.  (I have been the recipient of such morsels, and of showers from motorist dumping their half-finished cups of coffee and bottles of soda.)  Unfortunately for Benjamin Dearman-Baker, Silvester's effort at tidiness sent him tumbling from his bike--which he'd been riding at 20MPH--to the pavement.  

Although endangering or injuring someone by opening a car door is a misdemeanor offense in the UK, it's still a more serious charge than in most US jurisdictions.  Rarer still is the motorist, like Silvester,  actually prosecuted for it.

Silvester claimed to have "looked" before opening his door, but admitted he didn't check the blind spots.  He might have seen Dearman-Baker in one of them had he used the "Dutch Reach," which is now mandatory in the UK and other countries--and versions of it may soon be mandated in New York and other places in America.

The "Dutch Reach," invented in a country that has about the same ratio of bicycles to people as the US has guns to people, is simple:  The driver uses their "far hand" to open the door.  In the UK, where drivers travel on the right side of the road, it is their left hand.  In most other countries, a driver would open their portals right-handed.  Bending in such a way forces drivers to look in those spots immediately behind them, which is where they, more often than not, "don't see" cyclists.

During the past few years, Massachusetts and Illinois have made the "Dutch Reach" part of their drivers' curriculum.  In New York City, where I live, the Department of Transportation is trying to promote it among taxi and service-vehicle drivers as the "New York Twist."

It sounds like a dance.  Let's hope it catches on and it isn't just a temporary "craze," like an earlier "twist."

It’s easy to keep #BikeNYC safe! Do the New York Twist: before exiting a vehicle, twist your opposite arm to open the door, then turn your head behind you to watch for oncoming bikers. You twist one way to put on your seat belt, now twist another to save lives. #VisionZero pic.twitter.com/8tqllsp9P9

— NYC DOT (@NYC_DOT) April 10, 2023

Oh, and for his part, Richard Silvester has been ordered to pay the costs that result from hitting Benjamin Dearman-Baker when he opened his door to shake off the crumbs from his sausage roll.

A Journey Blossoms

 What would my younger self have thought?

My younger self was not only, well, younger, but also stronger, skinnier and perhaps sillier: Even after I’d given up on racing, I prided myself on riding like a racer.  Some of that may have had to do with living as male and riding, if not solo, then mostly in the company of male riders who were racers, ex-racers or wannabes.

Now I’m going to make a confession: While I sometimes rode just as hard and fast during my solo rides, on other solo rides—and only on solo rides, I’d stop to look at buildings, trees or flowers.

Which is what I’ve been doing lately.  In this part of the world, we are entering the peak of cherry blossom season and I’m becoming a blossom rider—or a cherry chaser?

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that few things make me happier, if for a moment, than those pink blooms.  (Lilacs, which should be showing up soon, are another.) 

It’s not just their prettiness that moves me.  I must say that I never understood haiku or Japanese art (or why it so inspired Monet and other Impressionist artists) until I paid attention to cherry blossoms.

You see, haiku isn’t just about the syllable count and Japanese painting isn’t only a style.  Both are about experiencing the beauty and intensity of something in a moment but appreciating that moment’s ephemerality. And that, I believe, is the reason why there’s so much respect for elders and ancestors in Japanese culture.

So…while my recent rides have been sensual and aesthetic experiences—which my younger self would have secretly embraced—they have also been lessons which, possibly, my younger self could not’ve understood.