Are Cyclists Against Religious Freedom?

I most recently visited Montréal around this time of year in 2015. My visit spanned a holiday weekend in the US: Columbus/Indigenous People’s’ Day, which just happened to coincide with Canadian Thanksgiving. That weekend, foliage colors were at or near their peak, highlighting the city’s beauty.

Of course, one of the things that made my visit memorable was the cycling.  La ville aux deux cent clochers had a network of protected bike lanes that was not only more extensive, but also seemed to be more practical for transportation cycling, than anything I’d seen in the US up to that time. Best of all, there seemed to be a respect between cyclists, pedestrians and motorists that I rarely, if ever, see in my home country.

Now, however, the sort of fight I thought could happen only in the ‘States might be brewing. It could pit cyclists and the city against…churchgoers.

A few months ago, bike lanes were installed on both sides of rue Terrebonne in the Nôtre Dame de Grace borough, and the previously two-way street became a one-way thoroughfare. That has upset business owners who say that the lanes have taken parking spaces and thus led to a loss of revenue.

But one of the most vigorous complaints has come from Paul Wong, the warden of St. Monica’s church. He claims that church attendance—and donations—have decreased by nearly a third because, as he tells it, parishioners can’t find parking.

Had such a scenario unfolded in the United States, Wong or someone like him might’ve turned it into a “religious freedom” issue. It will be interesting to see whether he can or does that. Canada’s constitution does guarantee freedom of religious expression. I am no scholar of either the U.S. or Canadian Constitution, but I have to wonder whether Canada’s laws could be interpreted in similar ways to US policies. There have been cases in which employees—mainly Muslim—of municipal, provincial and national governments alleged discrimination against them for wearing symbols or sartorial accoutrements of their faith while on the job.

One thing I would never mention to a congregant of any house of worship is that I am an atheist. Can you imagine what visions of a “conspiracy” that might invoke? Oh yeah, that transgender atheist cyclist is trying to keep us from worshipping in the way God wants us to.

To The Sun and the City

 If this mural isn’t an incentive to ride—or visit The Bicycle Chain in Raleigh(!), North Carolina—I don’t know what is.

A Tour Of My New Home

 The other day I rode in the Tour de Bronx.  The ride, which isn’t a race, is offered in three lengths:  10, 25 and the “epic” “40+” mile route.  If you’ve been reading this blog, you know that I took the longest trek which, for me, still isn’t particularly long. According to a few other riders, we actually did about 45 miles.

I must say, though, that it’s interesting. We pedaled through some neighborhoods my neighbor Sam and I have explored. He has lived most of his life in the Bronx, but he—like other riders in the Tour—was surprised to see that the borough is full of such varying communities, architectural styles and topography. For example, people were as surprised to see a sign reading “Welcome to Country Club” (Yes, there is a Bronx neighborhood by that name!) as they were to encounter the climb from Van Cortlandt Park to the Fieldston enclave of private streets and the prep school JFK attended.

The ride’s’ volunteers were helpful and almost preternaturally cheerful.  In addition to directing us, they handed out snacks, water and energy drinks and served up pizza and other goodies in the Botanical Garden, where the ride ended.

That they had so much food and drink was amazing when you consider one of the ways the Tour differs from the Five Boro Bike Tour (which is roughly the same length):  the Bronx ride is free, while last year’s Five Boro set back each participant $100. I think the difference might be due in part to how many sponsors the Bronx ride has. But it may also have to do with another major difference in the ride itself.

Streets and highways that comprise the 5B route are completely closed to traffic. I imagine that the city spends a fair amount for police patrols along the way—and, as I understand, accounts for part of the entry fee.  On the other hand, most of the streets—some of which included bike lanes—weren’t cordoned off for the TdB. 

While that wasn’t a problem for me—except for two incidents I’ll mention—for some riders, who were treating the ride as a race, stopping for a red light was an affront to their egos. So they rolled through and the riders behind them—including, at times, yours truly, felt drivers’ wrath.

One of those riders, who probably was young enough to be my grandchild, squeezed past me on City Island Avenue, which has one traffic lane in each direction and, for some reason, was as heavily trafficked as it would be on a summer Sunday. So there was no choice but to ride between the traffic and parked vehicles—which is where that young rider passed and almost bumped into me.

The other incident came near the end of the ride, where we turned on to University Avenue. There is a marked, but not protected, bike lane which I don’t use because, frankly, it’s more dangerous than riding in the traffic lane. Other riders were either familiar with it or saw that the turn to the bike lane was awkward. But one guy who looked like he’s lived on beer and bacon cheeseburgers since his days as a linebacker ended and was riding an electric bike (pedal-assisted, which was allowed) decided he had to ride in the bike lane and cut in front of me. “Why don’t you use the bike lane?” he yelled.

Even after his and the passer’s lack of consideration—and the fact that I had ridden everywhere (except Woodlawn Cemetery, which doesn’t allow bikes to enter at any other time) along the route on other rides, I am glad I did the Tour and probably will do it again. To me, it feels more like a ride than 5B, which feels more and more like an event. Oh, and I think the TdB offers more surprises—and rewards.