Has The Blizzard Thawed Their Attitude Toward Cyclists?

The New York Post is not the most cyclist-friendly publication.  So, naturally, I paid attention when they published an relatively neutral, or even somewhat bike-positive, article.

Even the title, while in true Post style, doesn't elicit hostility:  "NYC blizzard freezes out cyclists due to snow-covered bike lanes."

Better yet, the article pointed out that cycling is an important means of transportation because many of us in the Big Apple don't own cars--or even driver's licenses.  And its popularity has skyrocketed during the COVID pandemic because the subways and buses are running on more limited schedules and some of us, whether because we have underlying conditions or simply are conscious (some might say paranoid) about our health, don't feel it's safe to use mass transit.

Photo by Gregory P. Mango

The problem is that most bike lanes run alongside curbs.  That makes it all too easy for snow shoveled from sidewalks or plowed off streets to be dumped into the lanes.  Also, it seems that clearing the lanes is simply not high on the city's list of priorities. Perhaps those in charge still see cycling as mainly a recreational activity.

I Didn't Cycle Far Enough To See The Planets

 The other day, I posted about seeing the crescent moon over Crescent Street.  After that, I had high hopes for seeing the astronomical event of the millenium:  the near-conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the evening sky.

Although forecasters said we might not see it due to weather, I still had high hopes.  After all, those same forecasters said the planets would be bright enough that they might be seen among city lights.

So I hopped onto Martie, my commuter, and pedaled toward the waterfront by the Socrates Sculpture Park, Rainey Park and Gantry Park (the Long Island City piers) and looked toward Manhattan--to the west, where the spectacle would be visible.  I looked for "gaps"--mainly, streets that transverse the width of Manhattan--through which I sometimes watch sunsets.

Alas, all I saw were clouds and mist.  I wonder whether I would've seen the planets in New Jersey or Connecticut.

As I understand, the next such planetary near-conjunction will take place in about 400 years.  Maybe, just maybe, if I keep on riding my bike, I'll see it.;-

Finding Your Spot

 The New York City Department of Transportation has been installing "hoop" bicycle racks all over the city.  In fact, there are a few just around the corner from my apartment.

Still, there aren't enough.  There never can be enough:

From Exclusive Pictures

A Street Follows The Moon

 After Thursday's snowstorm, the moon rose

over Crescent Street, of course!

Victims Of The New "Bike Boom"

If I ever get a regular writing gig, it's unlikely to be with The Wall Street Journal or The Economist.  I have, as far as I can tell, no business acumen and I passed the one and only economics class I ever took by promising the professor I wouldn't take another:  He could see that I simply had no mind for the subject.

All right, the story about the econ class was an exaggeration--but only a slight one.  One thing I'm pretty good at, though, if I do say so myself, is observing.  So now I'm going to present an observation I've made that pertains to cycling--and might be of interest to the folks at WSJ and The Economist.

One of the terrible outcomes from the COVID-19 pandemic is that, in the resulting economic free-fall, many businesses have gone under.  While some reporting, mainly of the local variety, has focused on the human costs of people losing their life's work (which, of course, is the real tragedy), the major media outlets have tended to focus on the types of businesses and industries that have been hardest-hit.  They include restaurants which, in many places, were forced to close or operate at greatly reduced capacity for weeks or months.  Also decimated have been clothing retailers and anything related to travel and tourism (think hotels, airlines and such).  During my rides, I have also seen a number of dry cleaners that have closed their doors for good:  People working at home tend not to wear suits, and there's not much reason to wear a fancy dress or gown when there aren't any weddings or graduations to attend.

But the observation I want to make is this:  The economic devastation has not only claimed businesses in certain industries; it has also discriminated by the size of the business.  While some large companies have gone to the dustbin of history, the economic downturn has claimed even more small mom-and-pop businesses.

One such enterprise is Larsen's Bicycles of Powell, Wyoming. For months, media outlets big and small (including this blog!) have been telling the world how the pandemic has been great--almost too good--for the bike business. While sales of bikes and all things related to them have sailed along at levels not seen in a long time, a basic law of economics has come into play:  scarcity.  So, neighborhood shops--and, in some cases, national and international web-based retailers--are running out of everything from handlebars to helmets, brake levers to bike locks--and complete bikes.  

One result has been an increase in theft, from individual bikes on the street to warehouse break-ins.  It's also meant that, because supply chains have been interrupted, those who are willing to acquire their goods honestly have long wait times.

Or they can't get anything at all.  That is what happened to Larsen's.  The only shop in Powell, a small city in cattle-ranching and mining country of northwestern Wyoming, completely ran out of inventory in May.  After they ran out of bikes, Nick and Vicky Coy tried to keep things going with repair work.  When they ran out of new parts, they harvested the good parts from used bikes until those ran out.  Without a solid plan for delivery of new stock, the Coys made the hard decision to close the shop Nick bought from founder "Buzz" Larsen 29 years ago, after four years of working for him.  He and his wife have operated the shop by themselves during that time.   Their last day of business will be New Year's Eve, two weeks from yesterday.

Vicky and Nick Coy, in their soon-to-be closed shop. Photo by Mark Davis of the Powell Tribune.

"It doesn't seem to be getting any better," Nick said. "Nobody can really say whether they're gonna have bikes this coming spring and summer."  Most tellingly, he added, "The whole business model has changed for small shops."

That change, Vicky explained, came about because companies like Specialized like to fill the big stores first. "If you don't have big preseason orders and say you'll take X number of bikes, then you're on the bottom of their list."  Also, she said, "They're selling a lot more parts and accessories online."  For shops like theirs, "The lack of repair parts is huge."

She summed up the result: "It kind of forces out the little guy."  In other words, shops like hers and Nick's are squeezed out.

The current pandemic has magnified the gaps between the rich and the poor, those who can work from home and those who must risk their lives for a paycheck, and between races and genders.  It's also exposed another chasm:  between conglomerates and small businesses--or, in this case, companies like Specialized, with their bicycle showrooms in urban and suburban areas, and rural shops like Larsen's.