Not Plugged Into Courtesy And Safety

I'm no fan of electric bikes, or e-bikes, as they're commonly known.  Actually, what bothers me even more than the bikes themselves are their riders.  Here in New York, it seems that just about all of them are delivery men (I haven't seen a woman doing that kind of work) for restaurants and stores.  

Now, as a long-ago bicycle messenger, I can understand some of the challenges of their job.  I'm guessing that most of them are paid per delivery, as I was when I sluiced asphalt slaloms through canyons of glass and steel to bring everything from legal documents to slices of pizza to packages with their own "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policies, if you know what I mean.  In those days, I was young (Weren't we all, once?) and in good shape, which made me a fast rider. That, of course, is why I made decent money--better money, in fact, than I did in the next two jobs I had after I stopped plying the courier trade.

Speed equals money.  That, of course, is the reason why those delivery people ride electric or motorized bikes.   I get that.  But I don't condone their disregard for the basic rules of the road and their lack of consideration for other people.  

 

Last night, while riding to my bank's ATM and a store, I was nearly half of a head-on collision with some guy making deliveries on an e-bike.  I was riding between the traffic and parking lanes, both of which were full on a stretch lined with restaurants, bars, clubs and stores that remained open for the holiday.   

He was riding in the opposite direction, at least twice as fast as I was moving into the wind.  From what I could tell, he was not paying attention to the traffic or anything else. For that matter, I don't think he spoke English--or, at least not enough to understand "Watch out!" and the curses I yelled at him after he missed me by the breadth of the string in his hoodie.

It's not the first, or even the worst, instance of such careless riding I've seen by e-bikers.  I have stopped patronizing a restaurant near me because the owner refuses to talk to his delivery men--especially one in particular who routinely rides on sidewalks and, in one incident I saw, nearly killed an elderly woman who was walking by.  

Anyway...I know that a new year has begun, and this is supposed to be a time of good cheer.  But one thing I would love to see in this new year are the two "c's"--consciousness and courtesy--on the part of pedestrians, motorists and cyclists, e-bikers and motorized bicycle riders alike.

The Year Of The Bird Or The Year Of The Snake?

A few of my New Years have included resolutions to ride more.  At least a couple of times--when I was young--I kept them.  It was easier then.

Other times, I've made resolutions regarding skills or equipment. One year, I resolved to learn how to fix my bike.  That's when I got my copy of Tom Cuthbertson's Anybody's Bike Book.   

(Years later, when I first heard of Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States, I found myself thinking of Tom Cuthbertson's book.  If Zinn were a cyclist, he'd've been Cuthbertson's kindred spirit.   But I digress.)

Another year, I decided to learn how to build wheels.  Not long after, I came across an article Sheldon Brown--this was the first time I'd heard of him--wrote about it in Bicycle World, if I remember correctly.

And then there was the time I resolved to get myself a track bike.  No more silly fixed-gear conversions, I told myself.  Some time in the middle of that winter, I got a good deal on the Bianchi Pista (a real, made-in-Italy one), about which I'll write a post on some snowy (or rainy) day.

For all the times I've made resolutions (I don't make them anymore), there were others when I thought the year would start off on a good note with a book (whether or not it was bicycle-related) or some nice new piece of equipment--say, a jersey or an accessory.

Bicycling! magazine promotes that sort of thing.  It's a good way to launch new products, especially those you don't actually need but could enhance your cycling pleasure.  I thought this one, from last year, was cute:

Made by Portland Design Works

It's called, naturally, a "Bird Cage".  If I were to get one, I'd have to forget about the name:  One reason why I have never had, and don't want, a bird for a pet is that I can't think of any living thing as a pet if I have to keep it in a cage.  (Did someone mention boyfriends? ;=) )

It made me think of a bottle cage I had years ago.  I think I gave it to myself as a Christmas or New Year's gift:

I installed it on my Jamis Dakota.  I think I transferred it later on to my Bontrager Race Lite.  I liked it, actually:  It held the bottle securely, even when I rode over rocks and such.  If I recall correctly, it was made in Arizona or Utah or some Western state that's not Colorado or California by a company called Innovations that made some other cool bike accessories.

So...The year of the Bird?  Or the year of the Snake?  All right, I know I'm butchering Chinese cosmology here, so I'll stop and wish you a Happy New Year!

As The Sun Sets On 2014

I guess I could say that I ended this year in a way that reflects the kind of year it's been:  rather lovely, but unexceptional.  

Early this afternoon, I boarded Tosca for a ride through familiar places to a familiar destination. Even the detours were familiar:  through backstreets lined with cute little brick houses and restaurants of various nationalities, by the tidal marshes by Jamaica Bay and up and down stretches of reconstructed, but still not reconnected, boardwalks in Rockaway Beach and Jacob Riis Park.  

Those detours, and the headwind into which I pedaled through much of my ride made it longer, timewise, than it would normally be.  Even though I did not consciously choose them, I believe that some internal guide steered me through them.  (If Thoreau were alive today, would he say write that if a person does not keep pace with his or her companions, perhaps it is because he or she is guided by a different GPS?)  And where might that internal navigator been leading me?

Where else?:  Coney Island, just as the sun was beginning to set.  Somehow it seemed just right for my last ride of 2014.

Thank you all for following me on my journeys through this blog. as wild or mundane as they may be.  I hope you will join me for more in 2015!

What Do Cyclists Want?

What do women want?

You weren't expecting to read that on this blog, were you? 

OK, so what do men want?

Although I am one of the few people who can plausibly answer both questions (!), this blog is not the place to do it.  After all, this  is a family blog. (ha, ha)  For that matter, I'm not so sure I could--or would want to--answer either or both on my other blog.  

So I'll stick to a sort-of related question:  What do cyclists want?

Please, please leave your answers to that in my comments section.  I don't want to prejudice you one way or another, but I think the San Luis Obispo County Bicycle Coalition came up with a very credible and useful answer.  Two years ago, 30 percent of SLOBC members said they wanted more bicycle education.  That was, by far, the most common response.

 

I will not argue against that.  SLOBC idenitified some obvious venues for bicycle safety education, including schools.  They also seem to have some innovative ideas about accomplishing their goal, such as making bicycle safety education a family endeavor.  That makes sense when you realize that the county--perhaps best known for its wines (Among California counties, only Sonoma and Napa produce more.) and San Simeon, the home of Hearst Castle--is mainly rural and suburban.  In fact, one of the stated goals of the Coalition's bicycle education is to help give more moms the confidence to ride with their kids in the park.

The other policies and ideas mentioned are all laudable and practical.  But I think that it leaves out one element that, to be fair, almost no one else (at least in the US) addresses:  educating motorists and other members of the public about cycling and cyclists.  As I have argued in other posts on this blog, the understanding drivers have of cyclists is what makes cycling in much of Europe safer than it is here.  Also, one doesn't find, on right side of the Atlantic, the sort of antagonism between cyclists and motorists that scares many Americans off cycling to work and leads to the angry diatribes against cyclists one often hears and reads in American media.

If anyone from SLOBC is reading this, I don't want to seem overly critical.  It seems like you are doing a lot to make your communities more bike-friendly.  And, I want to add that I haven't been there in a long time, but I recall much of SLO county as being quite lovely and having some of the best cycling in America.

 

The World's Fastest Bicycle

At this time of year, it's hard not to think about children, whether or not we have any of our own.  After all, we were all kids once, and most of us have memories--for better or worse, or both--of this time of year.

For some of us, those memories might involve a bicycle, specifically finding one under the tree.  "The Retrogrouch" wrote a nice post about that last week.  I responded with a comment about the time I got a Royce-Union three-speed bike when I was seven years old.  The bike was much too big for me; I wouldn't be able to ride it for another couple of years.  That bike also holds a special memory because it was the last gift my grandfather gave me.  In fact, that Christmas was the last day I spent time with him:  He died the following March.

But whatever the circumstances, I think any bicycle found under a tree on Christmas morning always holds a special place in a kid's heart, even long after he or she is no longer a kid.  Even if it's made from gaspipes, nothing can be prettier or shinier or faster than that bike left by "Santa"; if we can't ride our new steeds that day, nothing seems more worth the wait, whether for snow to melt or, in my case, to grow into the bike.



I think children's author Ken Nesbitt captured that feeling nicely in his poem, "The World's Fastest Bicycle."

My bicycle's the fastest
that the world has ever seen;
it has supersonic engines
and a flame-retardant sheen.

My bicycle will travel
a gazillion miles an hour --
it has rockets on the handlebars
for supplemental power.

The pedals both are jet-propelled
to help you pedal faster,
and the shifter is equipped
with an electric turbo-blaster.

The fender has a parachute
in case you need to brake.
Yes, my bike is undeniably
the fastest one they make.

My bicycle's incredible!
I love the way it feels,
and I'll like it even more
when Dad removes the training wheels.

(From The Aliens Have Landed At Our School. a book of children's poems by Ken Nesbitt)