A Thief’s Trail Ends Next Door

 On my way out for a ride, I encountered this in front of a neighbor’s house:

That both tires were flat and the chain was rusted and “pretzeled” were signs of what I suspected.

Two other things clued me in.

Not only was the serial number, except for the first digit, removed; so was another unique (for Citibikes and other share bikes):

The mechanism that locks the bike into the dock was removed.  Here is what the front of a normal Citibike looks like:

I called Citibike and brought the pilfered (and probably joy-ridden) bike to the port down the street from my apartment.

A Surprise During A Ride Without A Plan

Errands and things that weren’t so complicated that a politician or lawyer couldn’t further complicate them took up my morning.  

So, by afternoon, I wanted—and needed—to ride  I had no destination or route in mind.  I didn’t even know which bike I’d ride.  For some reason, Marlee sniffed around La-Vande, my King of Mercia. For some other reason, that was the reason I wheeled her out my door.

I zigged and zagged along waterfront promenades and side streets from my Astoria neighborhood to Williamsburg. From there, a detour led me into industrial areas of East Williamsburg and Bushwick where I found myself following a string of graffiti murals that seemed to unfurl like a videographic collage along my ride and led me to this:

The word “truck” over the window hints at the building’s former role as a tire shop.  Given the location, drivers or owners of those hulking industrial vehicles were no doubt most of their customers.

The new clientele, I imagine, are more likely to be fixing or fueling their psyches and, perhaps, accompanying friends, dates or partners than to be hauling steel stock or power tools.  The Bushwick Triangle—where Johnson and Scott Avenues intersect with Flushing Avenue—is a lounge.

Even with its new look and purpose, its shape reminds me of a much larger and more famous structure:  the Flatiron Building, often cited as New York City’s first skyscraper  Somehow, though, I can’t imagine it adorned with a mural like the one on the Bushwick Triangle—even if the Flatiron’s owners were inclined to, and the city allowed, it.

I am glad, however, to have encountered a fun and interesting visual surprise during a ride for which I had no plan.

What The Bollards?!

 In previous posts, I’ve written “lines of paint do not a bike lane make.”

I admit it’s not Shakespearean.  (Then again, what besides Shakespeare is?) But I think it sums up at least one major flaw in too much of bicycle infrastructure planning.

Now I have to come up with another catchy line—for bollards.

I was greeted with this scene at the other end of my block.  The city’s Department of Transportation probably believed cyclists like me would be thrilled to have a bike lane running down our street.  But I, and some other cyclists, are among its most vocal critics.The lane isn’t wide enough for two-way bicycle traffic, let alone the eBikes, mini-motorcycles and motorized scooters that, most days, seem to outnumber unassisted pedal bicycles.

Moreover, as you can see, bollards offer little more protection than lines of paint.  On more than one occasion, I have seen drivers use the bike path as a passing lane—when cyclists are using it.  I can understand ambulances or other emergency vehicles passing in the lane (as long as bicycles aren’t in it, of course) because Mount Sinai hospital is on the lane’s route. But some drivers, I think, pass in the lane out of frustration or spite.

The situation has been exacerbated by the recent construction in the neighborhood.  I suspect that the bollards were crushed by a truck pulling toward or away from one of the sites. I also suspect that the destruction wasn’t intentional:  In my experience, commercial truck drivers tend to be more careful than others and when they strike objects—or cyclists or pedestrians—it tends to be because the drivers didn’t see them.

Anyway, what I saw underscores something I’ve told friends and neighbors:  Sometimes, the most dangerous part of my ride is the lane that runs in front of my apartment!