The Right To Mobility

Are bicycles a human right?

The organizers of a workshop don't ask this question directly.  But they could have:  Their event, to be held on the University of California-Davis campus on 1-2 November, is concerned with "mobility justice."

The school's Feminist Research Institute is inviting "emerging scholars" whose work "engages issues of race and inequality in studies of bicycling and sustainable transportation."  These junior scholars and graduate students will discuss ways in which "complex systems of history, power and oppression affect people's movement and ability to live, work and play."  The goal is to make bicycling, along with "new mobilities" and other forms of sustainable transportation, "accessible and desirable to all."

This sounds interesting and necessary.  As I have said in other posts, bicycles and other sustainable forms of transportation are vital to our future for all sorts of reasons, from mitigating climate change to making cities more habitable.  But they're also vital, in some places, for giving people any sort of mobility at all:  Think of jungles and other rural areas where, even if people could afford cars and trucks, they wouldn't be able to use them.

Well, judging from what UC-Davis Feminist Research Institute says about its upcoming workshop, they seem to think mobility is a human right.  I would agree, and bicycles are certainly part of that.

Bike Infrastructure: A Path Out Of Poverty And Pollution

I share at least one attitude with poor black and brown residents of New York, my hometown:  a dislike of the bike lanes.

Our reasons, though, are very different.  My criticisms of those ribbons of asphalt and concrete are that too many of them are poorly conceived, designed or constructed.  The result is that such paths start or end without warning, aren't really useful as transportation or recreational cycling conduits or put us in more danger than if we were to ride our bikes on nearby streets.

On the other hand, members of so-called minority groups see bike lanes as "invasion" routes, if you will, for young, white, well-educated people who will price them out of their neighborhoods.  I can understand their fears:  When you live in New York, you are never truly economically secure, so you always wonder whether and when you'll have to move. (Those Russian and Chinese and Saudi billionaires with their super-luxe suites don't actually live here; when Mike Bloomberg famously called this town "the world's second home," I think he really meant the world's pied a terre.)  Also, as I have pointed out in other posts, cycling is still a largely Caucasian activity, or is at least perceived as such.  

My experiences and observations have made, for me, a report from the United Nations Environment Programme's "Share the Road" report all the more poignant, and ironic.  In one of its more pithy passages, it pronounces, "No one should die walking or cycling to work or school. The price paid for mobility is too high, especially because proven, low-cost and achievable solutions exist."  Among those solutions are bike lanes and infrastructure that, in encouraging people to pedal to their workplaces and classrooms, will not only provide cheap, sustainable mobility, but also help to bring about greater social and economic opportunities as well as better health outcomes.

Tanzanian girls ride to school on bikes provided by One Girl, One Bike, a non-governmental initiative.

All of this is especially true for women and girls in developing countries.  Far more women are the main or sole providers for their families than most people realize.  I think that in the Western world, we think of such domestic arrangements as a result of marriages breaking up or the father disappearing from the scene for other reasons.  Such things happen in other parts of the world, but in rural areas of Africa, Asia and South America, for example, a father might have been killed in a war or some other kind of clash.  As for girls, very often they don't go to school because a family's limited resources are concentrated on the boys--or because it's not safe for girls to walk by themselves, or even in the company of other girls.

Now, of course, bike lanes in Cambodia or Cameroon are not a panacea that will resolve income and gender inequality, any more than such lanes by themselves will make the air of Allahabad, India as clean as that of Halifax, Nova Scotia.  But bike infrastructure, as the UN report points out, can help in narrowing some of the economic as well as environmental and health disparities between rich and poor countries, and rich and poor areas within countries.  

Of course, it might be difficult to convince folks of such things in non-hipsterized Brooklyn or Bronx neighborhoods.  Really, I can't blame them for fearing that, along with tourists on Citibikes and young white people on Linuses, those green lanes will bring in cafes where those interlopers will refuel themselves on $25 slices of avocado toast topped with kimchi and truffle shavings glazed with coriander honey and wash them down with $8 cups of coffee made from beans fertilized by yaks and infused with grass-fed butter and coconut oil.

(About the avocado toast:  I can't say for sure that anyone actually makes the combination I described, but it wouldn't surprise me if somebody does.  On the other hand, the coffee concoction is indeed mixed in more than a few places.  I tried it once.  It tasted like an oil slick from the Gowanus Canal.  Or maybe I just couldn't get past the oleaginous texture.) 

If You Live In Chicago And Need A Bike...

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I like to give "shout-outs" to individuals and organizations who provide bikes, helmets and related items to people in need.

Now a city--Chicago--is undertaking such an initiative.

A new program called Bike Chicago will distribute 500 new bikes and provide "maintainece and safety equipment" this summer.  The program, under the auspices of the Chicago Department of Transportation, plans to provide 5000 bicycles, along with maintainence and safety equipment, by 2026.

The program is part of Mayor Lori Lightfoot's "Chicago Recovery Program" which aims "to increase affordable and climate-friendly mobility options."  In a statement, Mayor Lightfoot said, "Every resident of our city deserves equitable access to safe, reliable and affordable clean transportation options."

To apply for a bicycle and related accessories and service, a peron must:

• be a Chicago resident and at least 14 years old
• have a household income 100% or less of the Median Area Income for Chicago (e.g., $104,000 for a family of four)
• not already own a bicycle, and
• live in an area that faces high mobility hardship.

Those under 18 must have a parent or guardian present when picking up a bike and equipment.

Her Spirit Lives On—In South Africa

 Susan B. Anthony once said that the bicycle did more to liberate women than anything else she could think of.

I have previously mentioned her comment in my posts.  It articulates something I’ve known for a long time:  Bicycles are vehicles (pardon the pun) of social justice, often in the form of economic mobility.

In Ms. Anthony’s time, bicycles were the first forms of transportation that women could use independently. That is the very reason why some societies and countries have discouraged, or even banned, women and girls from cycling.

In some countries, like Saudi Arabia, that discouragement was passive, if you will, on the government’s part:  Women and girls weren’t allowed in public spaces without a male relative. Saudi Arabia and other countries under Sharia law have families and communities that are even more patriarchal than most Westerners can imagine. So while the government didn’t officially ban women and girls from cycling (or driving or doing so many other things), it essentially used families and communities to enforce second-class citizenship for females.

Another way in which girls and women are kept from riding is economic. Even in countries that aren’t ruled by a rigid religious patriarchy, women and girls in poor families and communities lose out: Meager resources often go to men and boys first.  Girls and women get whatever, if anything, is left over. So, if there is enough money for one bicycle, the father or son will get it, or first access to it.

Such a situation keeps women from finding jobs outside the home that pay better than whatever they can do at home. It also prevents girls from going to school.

Sindile Mavundla teaches girls how to ride.  Photo by Esa Alexander for Reuters.

Sindile Mavundla has firsthand knowledge of what I have just described. The 34-year-old is Cape Town’s “bicycle mayor.” As someone charged with promoting bicycle culture in his South African city, he is not only working to improve bicycle infrastructure or conduct safety classes. He teaches girls and other first-time riders, many from impoverished communities, how to ride at his Khaltsha Cycling Academy.

Some of his pupils had to walk several kilometers to school—or work. Teaching them how to ride, and helping them acquire a bike, needless to say, improves their prospects in neighborhoods where there are few. But it has an added benefit: “Many of the girls,” he explained , “are not given much sports options.”  The bicycle, he said, “has the potential for changing lives” through improved physical fitness and self-esteem as well as the intellectual independence and economic mobility provided by greater access to schools and jobs.

More than a century on, and half a world away, Sindile Mavundla echoes and reflects Susan B. Anthony’s words and work in his capacity as Cape Town’s “Bicycle Mayor.”

Helping Veterans--And Everyone--With Disabilites

Today is Veterans' Day here in the US.  I don't know what I could say to, or about, veterans that isn't a platitude at best.  What I can say, though, is that I am pro-veteran precisely because I am anti-war. It's a disgrace to see a former service member living under an overpass and, honestly, the kind of health care, physical and mental, that too many veterans get--or don't get.

What I say is especially true of disabled veterans.  Even those whose immediate needs are being met by the Veterans' Administration and other organizations often face other challenges, especially in terms of mobility.  That difficulty in getting around is not just an inconvenience or a destroyer of pleasure; it also deters too many veterans (and other disabled people) from employment, education and the means of obtaining and maintaining health.  

Although Chesterfield, Virginia resident James Howard's paralysis wasn't a result of his service in the 82nd Airborne Division, the retired US Army Ranger understands just how important mobility is. He was given a recumbent bicycle adapted to his needs after his diving accident.  That inspired him to "give back," he says, by advocating for fellow veterans and people with disabilities.  

He has also helped in a more concrete way by launching REACHcycles.  To date, it has provided over 600 adaptable three-wheeled bikes to disabled veterans, children and other folks. Recipients have included a triple amputee as well as a blind child.  Those bikes allow their riders to go to jobs and schools to which they might not otherwise have access. (I am thinking now of a man I knew, now gone, who couldn't get a drivers' license because of his lack of peripheral vision.  He could, however, ride his bike to work.)  They also help, especially the kids, to prevent other health problems:  Disabled people often become obese and develop diabetes and other degenerative conditions as a result of their physical inactivity.  

So, being the pro-veteran person I am, I want to say that the Veterans' Administration and other relevant government entities (and insurance companies) should pay folks like James Howard--and the folks who build and adapt the bikes he provides--for their services.  And, of course, provide them with anything else they need for their physical and mental health.      

Good Bicycle Infrastructure: Good For Seniors

On more than one occasion, I've railed against drivers who park in bike lanes--or even use them to pass when they think "the coast is clear".

I used to get annoyed with skateboarders, skaters and runners who use the lanes.  Lately, though, I have had more sympathy for them, in part because of someone I talked to when I stopped for a red light a few weeks ago.

He was pushing his wheelchair in the lane I was pedaling.  I suppose the sympathy I feel for someone in his situation is normal:  After all, who grows up wanting to spend his or her life that way?

Anyway, he was apologized for using the lane.  "Don't worry," I intoned.  "Just be safe."

"Why do you think I do this?"

"What do you mean?"

He explained that he wheels himself along bike lanes because, in some places, the sidewalks are "impossible" to use.  "They're broken, they have debris all over them."  But,he said, "at least here"--meaning in New York--"we have sidewalks".  In other places--"like Florida", he said--"there aren't any sidewalks".  As often as not, it means he has to wait for people to drive him around because "it's just too dangerous to wheel a chair along those roads."

I was reminded of my encounter with that man when I came across an article from Connect Savannah.  In the Georgia city's "New, Arts & Entertainment Weekly," John Bennett writes, "People who ride bikes on Lincoln Street are used to seeing other wheeled conveyances in the bike lane."  He is "not talking about the cars that are regularly parked there."  Rather, he observes, that "people who use wheelchairs, scooters, walkers and other mobility aids" rely on the bike lanes to "permit them to safely reach important destinations."  

From Connect Savannah

Bennett said that a tweet from Anders Swanson, a Winnipeg designer and the chairman of the Canada Bikes board of directors, included a video of a man in a motorized wheelchair to remind people that "It's far more than just cycling."  His message to politicians is that unless they "never plan to grow old", bike infrastructure "should be their #1 priority."

As Bennett points out, having a good bicycle infrastructure is not just about separating cyclists from traffic. The lanes--when designed well--calm traffic, "improving safety and the comfort level for people who use mobility aids".  The result, according to Swanson, is that people have choices in their mode of transportation.  As Bennett so eloquently puts it, lanes "allow people like me to ride a bike to work instead of driving."  And, he says, it "makes it possible for a person in a wheelchair to shop for groceries at Kroger's."  

In places like Savannah, "when drivers argue against bike lanes, wider sidewalks and other traffic-calming measures," he explains,"what they are truly afraid of is losing their ability to speed," he explains.  However, "the consequences of prioritizing convenience of motorists over safety are dire," he reminds us, "especially for seniors".  

The reasons?   A 30-year-old chance has a three percent chance of being killed if hit by a car travelling 20 miles per hour.  At age 70, the mortality rate is 23 percent.  And, as speeds increase, so does the death rate.  It's not unusual, Bennett says, for motorists to drive at 45 MPH on Savannah streets.  A 30 year-old has a 50/50 chance of surviving an encounter with a vehicle travelling at that speed.  For 70-year-olds, the mortality rates increase to 83 percent.

So, in brief, creating good bicycle infrastructure (and I emphasize "good" here) is synonymous with making cities safer for people who use walkers, wheelchairs or motorized scooters--or for senior citizens generally.  In addition to enticing more people like me to bike (rather than, say, drive) to work, it also gives senior citizens--and others who can't, or don't want to, drive-- the opportunity to live more active and satisfying lives.

I Ride My Bike To Release Stress. Really!

Tomorrow I will be thankful for at least one thing:  I didn't have to travel, at least not long-distance, today.  I still commuted, but at least I didn't have to navigate crowded airports or rail terminals.

For the most part, my commute is pretty stress-free, as much of it takes me through Randalls Island.  There are a couple of traffic "hot zones" near the entrance to the RFK-Triborough Bridge and where I cross Bruckner Boulevard, underneath the elevated "express"way.  (I use the quotation marks because I will not call a roadway "express" if the traffic is as likely as not to be at a standstill!)  Those places were more chaotic than usual and, aside from Randalls Island, I saw more traffic--and more Stupid Driver and Stupid Pedestrian Tricks just about everywhere.

So, I could say that my commute today was more stressful than it usually is.  Still, I suppose it's less stressful than being stuck in traffic, and I know it's less stressful than being on a packed subway train.  Even so, I'd say that this morning's commute was one of the more stressful ones I've experienced.  I probably will say the same about my commute home.

Jon Orcutt, a longtime advocate for cycling and urban mobility in general, tweeted about a stressful ride he took.  It didn't take him by the Port Authority Bus Terminal or Penn Station. (When I was a wee thing, I thought the Lord's Prayer pleaded, "And lead us not into Penn Station..") Instead, it led him across Manhattan:

My first run on the West 13th St protected #BikeNYC lane. All in all a pretty classic NYC bike lane experience pic.twitter.com/aXvpRxAfgm

— Jon Orcutt (@jonorcutt) November 20, 2018

Yes, he was on a brand-new "protected" bike lane on the side of 13th Street.  I have experienced things in "protected" bike lanes:  In fact, I had to dodge two trucks pulling in and out of factories, parents dropping off their kids in a pre-school and some impatient driver who thought the Willow Avenue bike path was a passing lane--never mind that it's lined with stanchions:

and that's just in five blocks, from 133rd to 138th Street.  Then, at 138th, I had to turn and make that crossing of Bruckner.

Oh well.  I guess I still got to work less stressed-out than most other commuters--and certainly less stressed-out than anyone who's flying, taking long-distance trains or buses, or driving so they can sit tomorrow with their families and stuff themselves with stuffed turkey and a whole bunch of other stuff.  Then they'll stress themselves over the weight they've gained--and, possibly, about whether they'll get any great bargains on "Black Friday".

She Wants Girls To Have Fun

It's hard for us to believe, perhaps, that in the early days of cycling, a woman astride two wheels was seen as provocative or even transgressive almost everywhere.

These days, it's hard to picture any major European city, and even a few American cities, without women pedaling to work, to school, or even for fun--sometimes alone, other times in the company of friends and, often, with a baby or toddler in a rear seat or trailer.

In much of the world, however, the situation for women and bicycles isn't much different from how it was in the western world in the 19th Century.  If anything, in some places, the sight of a woman on a bike can incite outrage, revulsion or even violence.

Pakistan is one of those places.  It's one of the more conservative Muslim countries, where women aren't even welcome to sit at tea stalls, congregate in parks or ride a bike for fun.  In fact, a woman in a public space without a purpose--like going to the market or school--is viewed as a threat to public morality.  It's uncommon even to see a woman riding a bike for a purpose, as straddling a seat is seen as a vulgar and sexlike act.

One woman who dares to challenge this social taboo is Zulekha Dawood.  The 26-year-old activities organizer at a community center organizes and leads rides through the streets and alleys of Karachi.  A year ago, when the weekly rides began, only a few young women participate; now as many as 30 women and girls join Dawood.

Zulekha Dawood leading a ride in Karachi.

What makes her efforts all the more remarkable is the part of the city in which the center is located, and where most of the rides go.  It's not a leafy enclave of professionals who were educated in London or New York or Toronto; rather, it's Lyari, a gritty working-class area in the southern part of Karachi.  

This illustrates a criticism that's been made of women's equality movements in Pakistan and elsewhere:  They're usually led by affluent or upper middle-class women, who have access to the education and networks that make it more possible for them to bring their visions into reality. On the other hand, the girls and women who participate in Dawood's rides face more opprobrium because their poorer and less-educated families tend to be more religiously and socially conservative.  

And, to be fair, many such families see marriage as the best hope for their daughters.   They believe that a woman who isn't "modest", or is simply "too independent", will make her less desirable to the "good" families of young men who could provide for her.

Although Dawood's rides are for the sake of riding, she understands that for participants--some of whom she herself has taught how to ride--riding a bicycle is mobility, pure and simple.  If a girl or a woman can ride just because she wants to, she is also more likely to ride to the school or job that will allow her to live a more independent life.  

Surely she understands something my favorite Woodhaven native sang in her best Queens English:  Girls just wanna have fun.  And her critics are upset that she and those who join her rides are doing just that.

When You're In Sierra Leone, Look For Stylish

Go to your local bike shop and ask for "Stylish".

Depending on the shop, you might be shown an elegant city bike or colorful jersey.  But it's not likely that someone in the shop will answer to it.

That is, unless your shop is in Sierra Leone.

Well, Stylish's (I never thought I'd use a possessive form of that word!) workplace isn't exactly a bike shop.  But it does connect people with bikes.  To be exact, he's the country manager for Village Bicycle Project, a US-based charity that focuses on sustainable transportation in Africa.  

Stylish.  Photo by Tom Owen

He has a workshop where he fixes bikes, and he does workshops in which he teaches people--particularly women and girls--how to ride bikes.  In his country, and others, women aren't taught how to ride because of notions that we can lose our virginity to a bicycle saddle. (Hmm...I guess it's a good thing I learned how to ride when I was still male!)  This not only robs them of the joy of cycling, it also limits their freedom and time they have to themselves, as they are often balancing family duties with outside work and/or school.  Having a bicycle increases their mobility, and options.

In addition to his bicycle-related work, Stylish has also, for the past six years, run a feeding program in the town of Lunsar.   In August, torrential rains make it impossible to harvest crops and a lot of people go hungry.  Last year, during that month, he provided meals for 80 neighborhood kids; in return, they had to attend English and Math lessons.  "I don't want to just create another thing where I am giving and they are taking," he explains.  This project, he says, is funded entirely by donations from people he has met personally, both in Sierra Leone and abroad.

With all he does, is it any wonder that 26-year-old Stylish has won his country's Young Philanthropist of the Year award?  

Although he was given the award as Abdul Karim Karama, the name he was given at birth, if you ever go to Sierra Leone, don't ask for him by that name. Remember, he's Stylish.  

Bersaglieri: Italian Light Infantry, On Bicycles

I have written several posts on how armed forces throughout the world have used bicycles and deployed troops on bicycles.  I trust--or at least hope--that no one has inferred from them that I, in any way, wish to endorse--let alone glorify--war.  Rather, I hope that showing how bicycles have been used, both in and out of combat, can highlight their versatility.

Also, as paradoxical as this may seem, the more I oppose war, the more interesting the history of armed conflicts becomes.  But I am not concerned with the "drum and bugle" aspects of military history, or in a mere recounting of battles.  Instead, I am interested in the ways war--as well as preparation for it, whether or not it's actually fought--affects technology, societies, cultures and history.

Ironically, I came to think about the things I've mentioned--actually, I learned of their existence--when I was a cadet in my college's Army ROTC program. (So you thought my life as a guy named Nick was the biggest, dimmest and darkest secret I've shared?  Ha!)  At the same time I was enrolled in  the "leadership seminar", I took a class called "Literature and the Great War", taught by one Paul Fussell.

Now, when I signed up for that course, I knew that Professor Fussell had won the National Book Award a few years earlier for The Great War And Modern Memory.  It's the sort of book that seems not to be written anymore because graduate literature programs don't turn out scholars like Dr. Fussell anymore.  The man was every bit as erudite as I'd hoped he would be, and was an engaging lecturer.  Actually, he didn't lecture so much as he talked about the works we'd read, as well as his own reflections--at least some of which were based, no doubt, on his experiences as a soldier in World War II. (He was wounded in France and won a Purple Heart.)  Best of all, he spoke--and wrote--in plain language, without any jargon.  That would not fly in any graduate school today.

Anyway, I mention him and that class because, from them, I also came to realize that I could appreciate the beauty of poems, stories and images borne of combat, whether experienced or observed.  Moreover, that appreciation was heightened by my realization of the horror and futility of war:  things Paul, as a combat veteran, understood as well as anybody could.  

I don't know whether he ever saw this photo of Bersaglieri (Italian light infantry) on Montozzo Pass in 1915:

From The Great War Blog

Their bikes are probably state-of-the-art, or close to it.  So, no doubt, are their weapons.  But something is totally incongruous:  their headgear.  Military uniforms, with their drab colors and lack of ornamentation (save for medals), were developed during World War I.  But these troops are wearing feathered hats.  

What makes those hats seem even more out-of-place (and their time) is their broad brims.  Trench warfare and the emphasis on greater mobility served to streamline military uniforms.  This brigade may well have been one of the last to wear such wide hats.

What was the purpose of those wide brims?  To ward off cavalry swords.  Yes, you read that right. I imagine they were about as good for that purpose as the old "leather hairnets" were at protecting the heads of cyclists who crashed.

I think that riding fast--which, I'm sure, they could do--probably did more to protect them from cavalry swords, or any other weapons the Austrians could use against them!

In Motion On International Women's Day

Today is International Women's Day. 

As I've mentioned in other posts, early feminists saw the bicycle as a vehicle, if you will, of emancipation.  "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling," Susan B. Anthony intoned.  "I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world."  She explained, "It has given women a feeling of freedom and self-reliance."

She would especially appreciate the images of Women In Motion posted on World Bicycle Relief's site. 

World Bicycle Relief is, in its own words, "mobilizing people through the power of bicycles."  In doing so, according to the organization's website, "We envision a world where distance is no longer a barrier to education, healthcare and economic opportunity."

To that end, WBR manufactures its own bicycles under the "Buffalo" brand in Africa, and has them assembled by mechanics in the locales in which the bicycles are distributed.  WBR trains those mechanics, as well as others who are involved in the production and distribution of those bicycles.  Recently, their wholly owned subsidiary, Buffalo Bicycles Ltd., has begun to sell bikes to non-governmental organizations, corporations and individuals in need of affordable, sustainable transportation.

Universe (yes, that's her name) uses her bicycle to bring the vegetables she grows and the foods she bakes to a market where she sells them.

WBR has work-to-own and study-to-own programs for those who cannot purchase a bicycle outright.  As you might imagine, those programs benefit women and girls particularly because--especially in areas like rural Africa--they have little or no money and limited (or, again, no) access to the networks that would help them get credit to start businesses or other resources needed to get paid employment, go to school or simply to take better care of their families--or themselves.

Kesia is a health-care volunteer who works with victims of HIV, sexually-transmitted diseases and gender-based violence. Because of the long distances she must travel, she used to meet only four clients a day.  Now, with her bicycle, she can meet as many as 75.

That WBR manufactures, assembles and distributes locally--and trains people to do so, as well as mechanics--is also a major benefit to women, who often can't travel very far from their farms, villages or families to obtain an education or employment, let alone a bike.  It also, naturally, makes it easier for women and girls to obtain bicycles, which in turn gives them the mobility that affords them access to a greater range of educational, business and other opportunities.

Georgina, a 68-year-old widow, uses her bicycle to carry milk from her farm to a collection center 12 km away.

No less than Barron's financial magazine has lauded F.K. Day, WBR's founder and president, as one the most effective philanthropists.  While WBR doesn't bill itself as dedicated exclusively, or even primarily, to women and girls, it's hard not to notice the particular impact their programs have on women and girls, especially those in the most difficult circumstances.

I am sure that, were she alive today, Ms. Anthony would point to the organization and its programs as one of the prime examples of what she meant, especially what she said about self-reliance.

Why Isn't Bike Share Booming In Beijing?

Someone I knew took a trip to China about twenty years ago.  Back then, it was still rare for an American to go there, except on business.  And, from her photos and descriptions, she experienced much of the "old" China, complete with streets as clotted with cyclists as the Long Island Expressway (a.k.a. The World's Longest Parking Lot) is clogged with cars during rush hour.



Back then, China was known as The Kingdom of Bicycles.  Even today, more bicycles are ridden in that country--by far--than in any other.  And 79 of the world's bicycle-share programs--including the world's two busiest, in Hangzhou and Wuhan--are found there.

So, one would expect that a bike-share program in Beijing would be as popular as some of the local delicacies.  However, the program in the Chinese capital is probably one of the biggest busts, so far, in the movement.

One explanation for the Beijing bike share bust is that more than in other Chinese cities, in Beijing automobiles became symbols of prosperity and bicycles as markers of poverty and downward mobility. That could also explain why a "bike culture" hasn't developed as it has in Hangzhou or in places like Copenhagen, Portland or New York. In other words, bicyling--even for recreation, let alone transportation--is not seen as "hip" in Beijing as it is in the other cities I've mentioned. In fact, from what I've read, there isn't even a subculture or "bike neighborhood" in the Chinese capital.

Of course, that doesn't mean that one couldn't develop. After all, about a generation ago, bicycling in Copenhagen experienced a devolution similar to (if, perhaps, not on the same scale) as the one Beijing is experiencing. Something similar happened in New York and other American cities a couple of generations before that. In New York, Copenhagen and other cities, people got tired of fighting traffic and realized that bicycling could get them to their destinations faster than driving and, in some cases, even mass transit. From what I've been reading, it seems that some people in Beijing aren't happy about the auto traffic congestion, let alone the poor air quality that's resulted from it..

Maybe Beijing is just one spike in petrol prices from a boom in its bike share program.

Going Nowhere, Unsafely

What's the easiest way to anger urban drivers?  Take a lane out of "their" street or roadway and turn it into a bike lane.

Here's something that will leave them more enraged (I can't blame them):  When we, cyclists, don't use the lane designated for us.

We eschew those pieces of "bicycle infrastructure" our cities and counties "provide" for us, not because we're ingrates.  Rather, we avoid them because they're unsafe or impractical.  As I've said in other posts, paint does not infrastructure make:  Simply painting lines on asphalt does nothing to improve the safety of motorists driving at 30MPH (a typical urban speed limit)  or cyclists pedaling at half that velocity.  And too many bike lanes simply go from nowhere to nowhere.

Both of those flaws, it seems, came together this winter, Chicago's Department of Transportation constructed a "protected" bike lane on the city's West Side, along Jackson Boulevard between Central Avenue and Austin Boulevard.  The lane is only ten blocks long (which, if those blocks are anything like those here in New York, means that the lane is only half a mile long).  The worst thing about it, for both motorists and cyclists, is that it took a lane in each direction from a busy if narrow thoroughfare that connects the northern part of Columbus Park with Oak Park, an adjacent suburb.

The Jackson Boulevard Bike Lane. Photo by Colin Boyle, Block Club Chicago

In doing so, the Chicago DOT made an often-congested route even more crowded.  One problem is that drivers often use Jackson to reach the Central Avenue onramp for the Eisenhower Expressway.  Drivers making a right turn on Central get backed up behind drivers going east on Jackson because they can't make the turn on a red light.

Things are even worse during rush hour, school dismissals and when the 126 bus makes one of its four stops along the route.  The result is "total chaos and confusion," according to Salone.  It might be a reason why "I have yet to see one bike there."  City and school buses may be picking up and discharging passengers in the lane, and having to cross an entrance to a freeway is, for me, a reason to avoid a lane or street. (That is one reason why, when cycling back from Point Lookout or the Rockaways, I detour off Cross Bay Boulevard a block or two after crossing the North Channel (a.k.a. Joseph Addabo Memorial) Bridge:  I want to avoid the Belt Parkway entrance and exit ramps.)

The result, according to resident Mildred Salone, is "total chaos and confusion."  That might be a reason why she has "yet to see one bike there."  An equally important reason was voiced by someone else, who called Jackson Boulevard a "bike lane to nowhere."  

That title was bestowed upon it by Oboi Reed, who founded Equicity, a mobility justice organization that seeks, among other things, to start a bicycling culture in the area.  "When the bike lanes drop out of nowhere, people are turned off," he explained.  "People have to feel ownership and excitement."  

He says that in addition to the lane's faulty planning and design, people were alienated because they see the bike lanes as vectors of gentrification.  The Jackson Boulevard neighborhood is full of longtime residents, some of whom live in multi-generational homes, and most of whom are black and working-class.  They cyclists they see are mainly younger and whiter than they are, and don't share their roots in the neighborhood.

So, it seems to me, Chicago's Jackson Boulevard bike lane encapsulates all of the faults of "bicycle infrastructure" in the U.S.:  It was poorly planned and designed, with little or no regard for whom it would serve or the neighborhood through which it was built.  The result is something that makes motorists and cyclists equally unhappy.  Unfortunately, unless planners and policy-makers pay more attention to cyclists as well as other people who might be affected, we will see more unsafe bike lanes to nowhere.

How A More Accurate "Bicycle Census" Could Save Lives

There are a number of reasons why too many bike infrastructure projects--including any number of bike lanes I've ridden--do little or nothing to make cycling safer or more convenient.  If anything, some of those projects--including lanes that lead cyclists straight into the path of turning vehicles or merging traffic--put cyclists in more danger than they'd experience if they rode in traffic.

One reason why so many bike infrastructure projects are ill-conceived, -planned or -executed is that, too often, planners have an inaccurate idea--or no idea at all--of how many cyclists are riding along a particular route or at a given time.  As often as not, planners have only a rough guesstimate of how many people ride per day, month or year.

One reason for that is the planners' methods and equipment for gathering data are designed to give accurate counts of motorized, but not cycling or pedestrian, traffic.  That is at least somewhat understandable:  After all, cars, trucks and buses are easier to detect, whether by humans or devices, than cyclists or pedestrians.  Also, most planners are educated and trained to collect, and pay attention to, "big data"--and their experience reinforces that bias.

"Little data", if you will, is especially relevant in regards to cycling because cyclists--whether they're riding to work, or for fitness or pleasure--take a greater variety of routes and have a wider range of destinations than most drivers.  While one can find clusters of cyclists in certain parts of a city, and along certain routes and certain times, those of us who pedal aren't clustered to the same degree as those who go where they want or must by putting a foot on the gas pedal.

Some researchers in Texas are  aware of what I am describing.  They are working on a pilot program, backed by the Texas Department of Transportation, to find more "nuanced data", in the words of Greg Griffin, about cycling and walking in Austin and Houston.   

The goal, says Griffin, is to better inform, among other things, Austin's corridor project, which will build lanes along nine roads.   That project received funding from the mobility bond Texas voters chose last year, but the City Council hasn't approved construction plans.  A draft of those plans is expected to go before the City Council next year and Griffin, a Texas A&M researcher, hopes to better inform the project and others like it.

He and other researchers are trying a number of methods to count cyclists, such as gathering data from Strava and other apps.  Of course, not all cyclists use them, so Griffin and his team are also installing pneumatic tubes similar to the ones used to count cars along roads frequently used by cyclists.  Those tubes, however, last only a few weeks, so he is trying to have permanent counters installed and recruiting cyclists and others to interview cyclists about their riding habits.

A variety of methods must be used, he says, because using only one would skew the results toward one type of cyclist over another.  For example, merely taking data from apps, he says, would result in "planning for people that are buying apps--instead of your community."

 He and others hope that better methods of taking a cycling census, if you will, will help to lay a "foundation for being able to save lives through infrastructure changes."

Why They Should Be Recognized As Professionals

Americans often complain that French--or even Asian--waiters are "rude," or simply not friendly.

On the other hand, some gourmands will argue that the quality of a restaurant's food is inversely proportional to the friendliness of its service.  

I would agree with that second assertion, to a point.  I recall that the old Second Avenue Deli had, arguably, the best matzoh ball soup and pastrami sandwiches--and the rudest waiters--in Manhattan.  And I have been in many a restaurant--yes, even Italian and Indian-Pakistani ones--where I loved the food but the waitstaff weren't vying to be Mr. or Ms. Congeniality.

Now, French and even high-end Asian restaurants represent cultures very different (at least in some ways) from those that gave us the various ethnic restaurants found in New York and other American cities.  But I have always sensed that there is a certain kinship in the attitude of waitstaff.  

In France, and perhaps to a lesser degree in other European and Asian countries, being a waiter or waitress isn't something you do to pay for college or because you don't have the documentation or credentials for other kinds of work.  In fact, it isn't just a job:  It's a profession.

One almost never hears the words "professional" and "waiter" or "waitress" used together in the English-speaking world.  That, perhaps, is a reason why they are not given respect--or a living wage.  (As you may know, you don't tip a waiter in France: there's a service charge built into your bill.)  On the other hand, a waiter, like a chef, sous chef or anyone else involved in creating, preparing and delivering a meal, is expected to help create a dining experience.  So a waiter not only hauls trays and plates; he or she also choreographs the dining experience, ensuring that everything from the table arrangement to the wines are appropriate for the meal that is being consumed.

I think now of something a lawyer once told me:  "It's not my job to be my client's friend; I am here to be my client's advocate."  I think it's a fair summation of any profession. Yes, you want your lawyer or doctor or teacher or whoever to be courteous and respectful.  But it's not his or her job to be your buddy.  And that professional does not quit at a certain time of day.  Most important of all, a professional is always learning something new.

I know of bike mechanics like that. In fact, I go to a couple of them when I don't have the right tool(s) or simply don't have (or don't want to spend) the time to do something properly.  The mechanics I am talking about have been doing their work for years, or even decades, and because of their expertise, they work year-round in shops, even during seasons when other mechanics are laid off.

They aren't professionals just because they're getting paid to work on bikes:  They attain such status, at least in my eyes, because of the way they approach their work--and their relations with customers.   Their goal is to make your bike work, and to work for you.  Moreover, they understand how bikes and cyclists are changing--and remaining the same.

But almost nobody--at least in the US--thinks of being a bike mechanic as a profession.  Part of the reason, I suspect, as that most mechanics, save for the ones I've described, don't see themselves as practicing a profession.  It's a job--as, I admit, fixing and assembling bikes was for me at different times in my life--that will sustain you until you complete your degree or move on to something else in your life.

Also, a professional isn't bound by one employer or workplace.  As an example, a doctor doesn't stop being a doctor upon leaving a hospital where he or she worked--or if that hospital shuts down.  That doctor can work elsewhere, or set up his or her own practices.

Mechanics are going to need that sort of mobility.  With the rise of internet sales and bike-share programs--and rising rents--the existence of a bike shop is increasingly precarious.  But even if people buy their bikes from online wholesalers or use bike-share programs (instead of renting bikes from shops), someone will have to assemble that new bike, or fix it after it's been ridden through streets and over hill and dale.  Many cyclists don't have the time or inclination to make those repairs (or they're not allowed to fix share bikes).  So, there will always be a need, I believe, for mechanics.  And because bike designs, and the ways in which bikes are ridden, are changing, mechanics and other bike industry professionals need to keep on learning.

As I understand, those are the motivations behind the Professional Bicycle Mechanics Association, founded two and a half years ago.  As its president, James Stanfill, says, "Service is to me what we do for others, and for us mechanics, it is absolutely inclusive of all we, as an industry, do for others."  

 

  Many mechanics, and others in the bike industry, are already living and working by that credo.  So it makes sense to start a "professional association" (which is not the same thing as a union) for bike mechanics.  I mean, auto mechanics are recognized as professionals, as they should be.  So why not bike mechanics?  If nothing else, I think such recognition would help not only to bring more respect to the bicycle industry, but to cycling itself.

Nobody Uses Citibike Anymore Because Too Many People Use It

 When discussing bicycle- or "micro-mobility"-related issues, some people can't keep a metaphor or a story straight, let alone construct a cogent argument.

On Monday, I pointed out the malapropisms and simple lack of sense of a Manhattan community board member's objection to a bill that would require, among other things, licensing eBikes--even though I agreed, in principle, that it's not a good bill.  Likewise, while I and many other New Yorkers can point to problems with Citibike's service and equipment, the City Comptroller's review of it seems to be guided, as Streetsblog suggested, by Yogi Berra's observation about a restaurant:  "Nobody goes there anymore because it's too crowded."

On one hand, the report from Brad Lander--who has been mentioned as a possible successor to Eric Adams as this city's mayor--says that Lyft, the ride-share service that now operates the bike-share program, is no longer providing "reliable and equitable service."  On the other, it acknowledges that "Citibike enables millions of trips each month" and that in 2022, there were 30 million trips: "five times as many as when the city first launched in 2013."  Moreover, the report went on to say that preserving (Italics mine) Citibike as a "high-quality transportation service is essential."

Photo by Lindsey Nicholson 

 

So why did I italicize "preserving?"  Well, it's notable that  esteemed Comptroller used that word, and not "restoring" or some synonym for it.  While it's far from perfect, I would say--and the phrase at the end of my previous paragraph would indicate--that Citibike is at least pretty good at what it does.  Of course, my experience with it is very limited, but on the occasions when I used it, I could find a bike that worked reasonably well (not like my own, but that's a pretty high bar, if I say so myself) and a port in which I could leave and lock it without too much trouble.  Now, I only used Citibikes between my bike-rich neighborhood of Astoria and central locations in Manhattan and Brooklyn. So, perhaps, I never had to experience what elicits the program's sharpest criticisms, to which the report alludes:  that Citibike doesn't serve low-income neighborhoods and communities of color--or, for that matter, the borough of Staten Island.

Aside from the ways the report contradicts itself, Gersh Kuntzman of Streetsblog points out that it has another problem:  the report is based on only two months--June and July of 2023, when Lyft admitted that it was experiencing problems, especially in certain areas (mainly in the Bronx) and with theft--out of nearly five years of the company's operating the service.