We're Giving You A Reason That Conflicts With The One We Gave You

When I lived in Manhattan, I often cycled across the George Washington Bridge:  I could set out for Bear Mountain around sunrise on a late spring or summer morning and be back before noon.  Even at such an early hour, I'd see other cyclists crossing the bridge in both directions.  Some were riding into the city for work or pleasure, but a few were returning from midnight rides:  something I did at least a few times.  Such trips were possible because, in those days (ca. 1983-1991), the Bridge's walkway/cycle paths didn't close.

Some in the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey management will deny the lanes were ever available 24 hours.  Pardon my cynicism, but I don't find it surprising that the bi-state agency that owns the Bridge (and JFK International Airport, among other facilities) would try to gaslight those of us who have been using the Bridge for decades.  

Photo by Charles Pedola

I don't know exactly when the PANYNJ began overnight closure of the bike lanes.  Nor does the agency itself--or, if it does, it's employing "selective memory."  Like Ed Ravin of the Five Borough Bike Club, I remember the nocturnal lane closure starting some time after the terrorist attacks on 11 September 2001. That is when the Authority installed gates.   "I remember seeing that gate and saying, 'They want to be able to close this path,'"  he recalls.  "I didn't like that at all."

Whatever the case, the path had been closed from midnight through 6 am until earlier this month.  Then, the lanes'  availability was extended by one hour:  It now opens at 5 am.  While that is a partial victory, the PANYNJ's reasoning is murky at best and specious at worst.  A spokesman claimed that the closures began in 2016 for cleaning, maintenance and restoration.  That contrasts with  another statement attributing the closure to a "standard practice" that began in 1995. Both of those claims contradict a 2004 press release stating the lanes would be closed overnight due to "enhanced security measures" for that year's Republican National Convention.

Now, to most people, that difference of one hour doesn't sound like much.  But there are people who ride to and from jobs at that hour--or overnight--who can't afford to, or simply don't, drive or take buses.  Even those of us who pedal across the bridge to train or simply for pleasure feel something in common with those workers:  that the Port Authority doesn't care about us.  About 4 million vehicles drive across the bridge every month; the tolls they pay make the Bridge the Port Authority's second most-profitable asset (after JFK Airport).  On the other hand, in a warm-weather month, about 90,000 of us pedal across the bridge--and we don't pay tolls.

How Long Did It Last?

 Cycling has been one of the few constants in my life.

Going With A Gnarly Idea

 Here in New York City, the prototypical commuter/errand/“beater” bike has flat handlebars, a single fixed cog or freewheel and tires somewhat wider and thicker than those found on road bikes. Frames are usually finished in plain colors or could be raw steel or aluminum. So far, those bikes sound like the love children of Minimalists and Brutalists. But those drab machines might have neon-colored V-shaped rims, as if to assert themselves against asphalt and concrete. Other cities’ signature bikes are variations on what I have described—or on Dutch-style city bikes. 

In still other places—typically hillier—bikes with multi-gear hubs or derailleurs are more common. Such machines often are modified ‘90’s mountain bikes, which some argue is the best kind of utility bike.

That belief seems to be a guiding philosophy of Gnargo.  Minneapolis natives Elysia and Zach Springer moved to Bentonville, Arkansas shortly before the pandemic.  They were drawn by the city’s reputation as a mecca for mountain biking—they had been cycling advocates in their former hometown—and other outdoor activities. It also happens to be the headquarters of Wal-Mart which, Elysia jokes, “sponsored” their move with Zach’s new job in product development for the retail colossus.

They had two toddlers and wanted to integrate cycling into their lives away from the trails. To them, the ideal solution was a front-loading family cargo bike like they’d seen in Europe. They weren’t widely available at an affordable price in the ‘States, much less in Arkansas, so they decided to make one themselves.

The first design was “pretty bad,” Zach recalls. But after a few tries, they hit upon something that satisfied both of them. It began with an old steel mountain bike frame, which Zach modified and equipped with an electronic kit. 

Needless to say, it got a lot of attention when they rode it around town. People asked where they could get a vehicle like it—which, of course, they couldn’t. So began the Springers’ enterprise.

It will be really interesting to see whether Gnargo’s front-loading cargo bikes become the signature mode of transportation for any community. Such a place would have a very different bicycle culture from New York or Portland!

Photos by Betsy Welch for Outside magazine.