19 October 2021

Six Parking Spaces At Grand Central

Imagine free tickets to a BeyoncĂ© concert--on a first-come-first-serve basis.  

Imagine that only six are available.

Yesterday, New York's Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) made an announcement akin to what I've described.

But, instead of concert tickets, what the MTA is about to offer are secure bicycle parking spaces at Grand Central Station.

Those spots will become available next month, after a locker is installed in the terminal's "taxiway" that closed twenty years ago.  The locker will be operated by a company called Oonee and accessible a smartphone app or key card.  


Rendering of bike parking locker at Grand Central Station, courtesy of Oonee


This offering will be a year-long pilot which, hopefully, will lead to more safe bicycle parking in this city's transportation terminals. 

When asked what he thought about a country without a flag, Mort Sahl* said, "Well, it's a start."  That's my response, for now, to the MTA's announcement.

*--More recently, he reported that Donald Trump was "hospitalized for an attack of modesty."

18 October 2021

There's No College There, But There's An Education

This weekend included a change of seasons and cultures--and rides.

While, officially, we're deep into Fall, from Thursday through the middle of Saturday, it felt more like early summer.  I took Friday's ride, to Connecticut, in what I might wear around Memorial Day or Labor Day--a pair of shorts and a fluorescent green T-shirt.  The breeze took some of the edge off the humidity.

Saturday morning, I pedaled out to Kesso's for some fresh Greek yogurt.  Alas, they were closed.  I hope everything is OK there: Perhaps they, like so many other shops--and people--couldn't get some thing or another they needed because of the interrupted supply chains that have emptied store shelves.  Later in the day, wind drove hard rain against leaves, windows and faces.

Yesterday, the wind let up--for a little while--and temperatures were more fall-like.  I took a spin along the North Shore of Queens and western Nassau County, which took me into a neighborhood frequented by almost nobody who doesn't live there--in spite of its proximity to a mecca for in-the-know food enthusiasts.

On a map, College Point is next to Flushing.  But the two neighborhoods could just as well be on diffeent planets.  The latter neighborhood, one of the city's most crowded, has been known as the "Queens Chinatown" for the past three decades or so.  There are dozens of places where one can sample a variety of regional cuisines, and have everything from a formal dining experience to chow on the run.  Those places are centered around Roosevelt Avenue and Main Street, at the end of the 7 line of the New York subway system--and one stop away from Citi Field, the home of the New York Mets, and the US Tennis Center, site of the US Open and other events.

College Point is "off the grid," if you will--away from the city's transit systems and accessible only by winding, narrow streets that dead-end in inconvenient places or truck-trodden throughfares that, at times, resemble a moonscape, that weave through industrial parks, insular blue-collar communities and views of LaGuardia Airport and the Manhattan skyline one doesn't see in guidebooks.

Until recently, College Point--which, pervesely, includes no college--was populated mostly by the children and  Irish, German and Italian construction workers and city employees who were the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Irish, German and Italian construction workers and city employees.  Their houses were smaller versions of the nearby factories and warehouses: squat brick structures framed by latticeworks of steel or wooden trellises, cornices  and fences.

In that sense, this place fits right in:








The New York Hua Lian Tsu Hui Temple is--you guessed it--a square brick building framed with wooden cornices and a steel fence.  The cornices,  though, are different:  They signal the purpose of the building, and signify other things.  Apparently, Chinese and Korean people who needed more space to raise their kids--or simply wanted to escape the crowding of Flushing--have "discovered" the neighborhood.  

Some have families and pets:











Marlee, though, was not impressed!  All she knows is that when I'm on my bike (or doing anything outside the apartment), I'm not there for her to curl up on.




16 October 2021

A Fair Trade?

So you have a seatpost in a size you'll never use?  A derailleur you haven't used since you "upgraded" your bike from six speeds?  Or a single odd pedal?

Or maybe you have a bike you haven't gotten around to fixing and don't want to attract crazies with a Craigslist ad.

Well, you can trade those parts and bikes for...beer.

Yes, you read that right.  At least, you can make such a transaction if you're in Albuquerque this weekend.  Canteen Brewhouse has teamed up with the Esperanza Community Bike Shop to collect donations until tomorrow.

A bike will get you a beer, and parts will get you a discount.  



15 October 2021

From Ice To Fire: The Journey of Iohan Guorguiev

Yesterday's post ended with a reference to Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken."  Today's post will be a tribute to someone whose life was, almost literally, one of those roads.

Nobody seems to know anything about the first fifteen years of Iohan Guorguiev's life, except that he was born in Bulgaria.  That's how he wanted it, according to even the people who knew him best:  His classmates and friends in Canada, the country to which he moved as a teenager.  


Iohan Guorguiev.  Photo by Matt Bardeen, from the NY Times



Most cyclists, and indeed the world, probably never would have heard of this young man who called himself "The Bike Wanderer"  and was born not to follow, but to push through, "The Road Not Taken" were it not for the videos he left on his website.  The first one includes this bit of repartee between him and a trucker:

What's your name?

Iohan

Where are you going?

Argentina

On your bike?

Yeah

Oh, man, I love you!

Iohan and that trucker met on a "highway" plowed on ice somewhere in the far north of Canada. Seven years later, Iohan made it to Argentina, but not to the southern tip--Tierra del Fuego--as he'd planned.  I have no idea of how long a trip like that "typically" takes, but Iohan seems, at times, almost apologetic that it's taking that amount of time.  Of course, one reason to take such a trip is to see what you can see and meet whom you can meet along the way which, of course, doesn't make for straight-arrow travel. But he also occasionally flew back to Canada so he could work to make money for his journey, pick up supplies and catch up with people.  He would then return to wherever he'd left off and continue his trip.

That "shuttle," if you will, explains why he didn't make it to "the last stop before Antarctica," if you will.  He returned to Canada in March of 2020, just in time for--you guessed it--the mess we've been in ever since, i.e., the COVID-19 pandemic.  Borders shut down, which left him, and everyone else unable to leave their country. (I guess the final leg of a hemisphere-long journey is not considered "essential" travel.)

Like most of us, he probably didn't anticipate being locked down for as long as he was.  Being unable to continue his journey probably exacerbated health issues, like insomnia, that seemed to have developed during the extended periods of time he spent at high altitudes.  Since I never knew him and therefore cannot psychoanalyze him, I am merely speculating when I say that perhaps being deprived of the thing that kept him going also magnified some long-standing hurts or other issues, which may have had something to do with why he didn't talk about his past.

In any event, the toll of not being able to follow his heart--which, I think, is all he ever could follow--was simply too much for him.  Tragically, he took his own life, at age 33, in August.

If you are having thoughts of suicide, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 (TALK). You can find a list of additional resources at SpeakingOfSuicide.com/resources.