Like A Football

Yesterday, while riding, I started to feel like a football.  I am not complaining; I am merely relating a sensation.

It seems that everywhere I turned, I was riding between "goalposts".  A stretch of the Rockaway Boardwalk has been closed for the past few months:  It was one of the last sections in which the boards hadn't been replaced by the concrete mixture from which the rest of the new "boardwalk" has been rebuilt.  

The section in question, which begins at Beach 39th Street and goes eastward, looked as if it were finished.  But, perhaps, the folks in charge couldn't decide whether or not it was, and whether or not to re-open that section.  So the fence that had closed it off was open part of the way:  It seemed as if someone had cut the chicken-wire mesh in the middle, rolled it up on each side for about half of its width, and propped it with poles of some kind. 

Then, just after I exited the boardwalk near the bridge to Atlantic Beach, I rode between a series of poles that looked like they'd been set up for a tent or awning of some sort.  Perhaps I'd missed a street fair or bazaar.  Or, maybe some kind of construction had just finished or would soon start.

Mind you, those poles didn't impede my ride along a quiet side-street in the town.  Nor did the flagpoles I rode between to steer my way off a congested street in Long Beach.  Actually, those poles bookended the entrance to a private road where I probably wasn't allowed to ride!

I didn't take any photos of my "goals", as I didn't think anything of them until I got to Long Beach and saw this:

Hmm...Was that guy in the middle boat playing "football"?

At least the ride was pleasant:  Sunny and a bit chilly for this time of year.  I rode into a pretty stiff wind from my place down to Rockaway Beach, and for a stretch from Long Beach to Point Lookout.  I was riding Tosca, my fixed-gear Mercian, and wishing that I'd put my 18 tooth cog on the rear instead of the 17 I was riding (with a 47 tooth chainring).   Of course, on my way back, I had no such wish. Well, for a moment or two, I wished I was riding my 16 tooth!  At least Tosca felt nimble, as she always does, in all of those conditions.

And I didn't feel like a football.

Is Your Bike Whatever You Lock It To?

If you commute or use your bike for errands, you have to park your bike.  In most cities, that means you have to lock it to something--a sign post, a parking meter, a telephone pole.  Or a tree.

To tell you the truth, I've only hitched my wheels to a trunk once or twice in my life.  No U-lock is wide enough, and you'd need a very long chain or cable.  Also, in many places, it's forbidden to lock your bike to a tree.  

Even where it's allowed, I prefer not to do that to a tree  It's definitely not good for the tree--or, apparently, the bike:

(Images from Guy Sports.)

Escape From The Sunshine State

People move from one state to another for all sorts of reasons.  Chief among them, I suppose, are jobs, family and schooling.  Then there are those who have a warrant out for them in the state they left (One of the great things about getting older is that the statute of limitations runs out!  You didn't hear that from me!) or are simply running away from any number of things.  I fit into that category when I left New Jersey:  Although my childhood wasn't Dickensian (It was more like Everybody Loves Raymond), a day came when I didn't want to be around my family or anybody or anything I knew.

Back then,  I said I'd "escaped" from New Jersey.  Other people, I'm sure, see their exits from one locale or another that way.  And that is how Alan Snel regards quitting Florida and going back to Nevada.

"Ghost Bike" dedicated to Johnny Jones in Jacksonville, Florida

As he reminds Governor Rick Scott in his open letter, posted on his blog Bicycle Stories, the Sunshine State leads the nation in cycling fatalities.  Given that it is the fourth most-populous state, it's not surprising that it also has the highest number of fatalities per million people.  What's most shocking, though is that no other state comes close, with almost twice as many deaths per million as second-place Louisiana and in absolute numbers, it edges out California, which has nearly double the population.

Two months ago, Alan Snel nearly became one of those statistics. He pointed that out in his letter to the Governor, in which he makes this judgment:  "You have showed no political leadership to try and reduce [the number of cycling fatalities] and you and the political leaders just don't care enough to do anything about keeping cyclists alive in your state."

Now I'll admit that my experiences of cycling in Florida are limited to a week or so I spend there every year.  And while there are great beaches and scenery, and it's nice to ride in shorts and T-shirts in December or January, I have even less of a sense that whoever makes decisions there knows or cares even less about cycling than in other places.  That is particularly troubling when you realize how many people ride.  

I always had the sense that, more than in anyplace else I've ridden, planners seem to think that throwing a bone to cyclists by painting a lane here or there is "policy".  And on Florida roads, you're more likely to encounter motorists driving way over the speed limit while under the influence of some substance or another--or are simply ignorant of, or hostile to, cyclists--than you are in, say, Portland--or even New York.

So...Although I usually enjoy the time I spend in Florida, I have no plans to move there.  And I understand why Alan Snel is moving out of it.

Why I've Stripped Helene

The weather has been hot, particularly for this time of year.  But that's not the reason Helene is stripped.

I confess:  I stripped her.  

Why would I do such a thing to a pretty Miss Mercian?  It's not for maintenance:  I haven't been riding her lately.  

Actually, I took off all of her parts for that very reason:  I haven't been riding her.  But don't worry:  I'm not leaving her exposed.

She's getting ready for a journey.  

First I have to put her in a box.  Then she'll be on her way.

A year after I acquired Helene (in the photos below), I found Vera, my other (green, twin-tube) Miss Mercian.  I've been riding that one quite a bit, as you know if you've been reading this blog a while.

So...Helene, it's nothing personal.  You're a great bike.  But you shouldn't have to compete with Vera or any of my other bikes--or anyone or anything else (all right, except for Max and Marlee).  So, I'm sending you off to someone who will give you the attention and good times you deserve.

Yes, I've sold her.  I'd been thinking about doing that for a while. Finally, I found someone who will appreciate her and understands why I'm selling her.

Actually, the fact that I hadn't been riding her isn't the only reason I've sold her.  I'll soon tell you another reason why.

This Bike Sucks. And That's A Good Thing.

How many times have we heard, or said, that the more people we get to ride bicycles, the cleaner our air will be.

But, you know, that's just one step.  Some of us--especially those of us who live in the major cities--are sucking up the very smog we're trying to combat.  We're not trees:  We can't just inhale the stuff tailpipes and smokestacks belch and exhale air that's as pure as the driven snow.

So what can we do?  Well, since people have used pedal power to sharpen knives, grind grain and generate power for everything from hair dryers to computers, Dan Roosegaarde figured that he could use a bicycle to clean the air.  

Yes, you read that right.  This bike has a mechanism that sucks in dirty air, filters it and lets out fresh air as the cyclist pedals down traffic-clogged streets.  Roosegaarde, a Dutch (what else?) artist and inventor, has designed a series of innovation to help curb air pollution, including a series of 23-foot high towers that essentially act as a massive air purifier.  

The Chinese government is supporting the development of the Smog Free Bicycle.  That makes sense when you realize China has both the largest and fastest-growing urban areas and bike-share programs in the world.  Two decades ago, the bicycle was practically a symbol of China; two-wheelers clogged the streets as impenetrably as cars and trucks clot those same thoroughfares, and those of large metropoli in other countries, today.

Roosegaarde says he wants to "bring back the bicycle, not only as a cultural icon of China, but also as the next step towards smog-free cities".