Blame The Bicycle

For the half-century or so that I've been a dedicated cyclist, every few years, new life has been breathed into a long-discredited claim.  The only difference was that back in the day, the oxygen for the myth came from word of mouth, print media and, less often, radio and television.  These days, like almost every other false rumor, it's spread through the "air" of the online world, specifically social media.

What is that claim? Cycling causes male infertility.  Fortunately, every time it's echoed, someone who knows way more than whoever started or resurrected the story shoots it down.  To my knowledge, no study confirming a link between a man's cycling and his inability to produce progeny has been published in the New England Journal of Medicine, Lancet or any other peer-reviewed journal.

Interestingly, such a connection is not the most ludicrous one ever made with cycling.  As I've mentioned in an early post, the pseudo-phenomenon of "bicycle face" was reported (in women, of course) during the "bike boom" of the 1890's.  Around that time, bicycling was also blamed for a decline in marriage because "the young men go off on their wheels and leave the young ladies to themselves."

In that vein, another columnist wondered "What does Juliet care for a sofa built for two when Romeo has his tandem?" in blaming bicycles for a decline in furniture sales.  If IKEA had known that, would they have sold bicycles, if only briefly?

(IKEA ceased selling the bikes because some of the belt drives--which substituted for chains--snapped, resulting in rider injuries.  The company said they couldn't find a way to remedy the problem and recalled all of the bikes sold in the US.)

A List of Things People Blamed on Bicycles

🧵

— Paul Fairie (@paulisci) August 22, 2022

It seems that cycling was linked to an increase in appendicitis. The doctor who made the connection noticed only a coincidental rise in the disease and cycling.  He didn't offer a cause-and-effect explanation, so I am guessing that he, with all of his training, missed something that I--who haven't taken a science class since Donna Summer did her version of MacArthur Park (as if we needed a cover of that song!)--understand:  Correlation does not equal causation.

Oh, and cycling has also been implicated in--are you ready for this?--women smoking.  Of course, that claim was made in England, decades before the US Surgeon General's warning on the dangers of smoking.  We've all seen that famous image of 1920s Tour de France riders taking a smoke break:  at the time, it was commonly believed that puffing on Gauloises or Gitanes (or Marlboros) "opened up the lungs."  Also, at the time of the "cycling causes women to smoke" claim was made, in much of "polite" society, "proper" and "Christian" ladies didn't drink, show their ankles, swear--or smoke or ride bikes.  

(The last dedicated cyclist whom I saw smoking was a guy I met when I was working at American Youth Hostels. Any time we were about to climb a hill, he stopped to smoke.  He claimed that it made the ride up easier.  And it seemed that when we stopped at a deli or cafe, he'd order its most unhealthy sandwich or dish and wash it down with the drink containing the most sugar.)

Of course, given what I've said about blaming women smoking on cycling, it's no surprise that cycling has been blamed for mental illnesses and moral decay--"the erosion of the Christian family," as an example.

Do you know of any other personal or societal maladies that have been blamed on bicycling?

Bliss

 One reason I cycle is its effect on my mental health.

In short, bicycling makes me happy.  How happy?

When I cycle, I'm a cat on a tandem and I allow a mouse ride on the rear.  And I mean ride:  The mouse doesn't even have to pedal.

Wheee!

These Bikes Could Emancipate Them, Too.

Yesterday was International Women's Day.  I'll repeat one of her most famous quotes:  "Let me tell you what I think of bicycling.  I think it has done more to emancipate women than anything else in the world."

Now I'll tell you what I think. Bicycling can do more to emancipate people than almost anything I can think of. People who use their feet to spin bike pedals rather than to pump gas pedals can free themselves from the costs--financial, physical and mental-health-wise and environmental--of excessive automobile dependency.

Also, I feel that cycling can change a person's outlook in other ways.  Though there's always that group of cyclists who's obsessed with having the newest and latest gear (I was once one of them!), I find that cyclists are, on the whole, more conscious of how and what they consume and less status-conscious than other people.  And, I like to believe, we are more socially conscious.

At least, we try to be. Like all people, we have our blind spots, individually and as a community.  One of those areas, I believe, is people with disabilities.  Sure, we can volunteer to take blind or deaf people on tandem rides or lead rides for those who have mild- to- moderate cognitive disabilities. (I am using terminology as I understand it.  If you are a professional in those areas, or simply more knowledgable than I am, please feel free to point out any inaccuracies.)  But, on the whole, cycling isn't very accessible to those who have impairments of one kind or another.

Among them are a group of people that, I blush to admit, I very rarely think about:  those who live with dwarfism. (I only recently learned that some consider it derogatory to call such people "dwarves."  Every now and again, a person with dwarfism will try a kid's bike and find it very unsatisfying.  I can't blame them:  Most kids' bikes aren't made to be responsive and, frankly, too often look cartoonish.  

Another, more important, reason why child-sized bikes don't work for adults with dwarfism is that they aren't built like children or scaled-down versions of average-sized adults.  For example, people with disproportionate dwarfism, or achondroplasia, have torsos similar in size to people without the condition, but shorter arms and legs.  So, while a child-sized bike might provide them with the proper seat height, if they ride it, they will be as cramped as if they were stuffed into a car trunk.

Designing a bike for a person with dwarfism is therefore difficult because, "You can't just lop bits off," says Steve Scott of  the Dwarf Sports Association.  That is what his father did for him mainly because there weren't any better alternatives.  His father motivated him to stay in the sport, but too many other people with dwarfism abandon it or never take it up in the first place because of the difficulties in getting bikes to fit, among other things.

Islabike Joni24

So Scott collaborated with Islabikes of the UK.  After several years of work, they've come up with the Joni 20 and 24 for adults and the Cnoc 14 and 16 for kids.  The numbers in each model name refer to the tire size, and the frames are proportionately sized.  The Joni is a 7-speed with a SRAM rear derailleur and trigger shifter; the Cnoc is a single-speed (freewheel) with a fully-enclosed chainguard.  In addition to their specially-designed frames, both bikes also have brake "micro levers" as well as cranks specially made in shorter lengths.

Islabike Cnoc 16

At the moment, the bikes are being sold only in the UK and for delivery in Europe. One hopes that they, or bikes like them, will become more widely available so that people with disproportionate dwarfism, wherever they are, can be liberated as Susan B. Anthony would have women, and all people.

Why Does One Steal For Three?

 I've been told, by people who have worked in it, that the art business can be as shady as any other.  Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised:  It's a world of secrecy with very little regulation.  And, as with real estate, stocks or anything else that's bought and sold, paintings, sculptures and other created objects sell for, essentially, whatever people are willing to pay for them, which leads to all sorts of unethical behavior.

Still, I have trouble imaging that anyone has ever said, with a straight face, "Psst!  Wanna buy a Monet?"  I don't know whether I'd laugh or call the police if I were to hear that.

That is the reason why I don't understand art theft--or theft of anything but basic necessities, and then only by desperate, destitute people. (Mind you, I don't condone any sort of pilferage:  I simply can better understand the motives of a person who's simply trying to survive or feed his or her family.)  After all, what do you do with Rembrandt's Storm on the Sea of Galilee? Or Van Gogh's Poppy Flowers? Or Cezanne's Boy In A Red Vest?  Hang them on your wall and invite your friends over for dinner?  I mean, if you were to try to sell those paintings to anyone who recognized them, they'd know that it was fake or stolen.  You can't make it "go stealth" the way you can with, say, a contraband high-end watch.

So it is with unusual bicycles.  Most bike thieves want to sell the bikes or their parts, so they steal stuff that's valuable but common. (That makes even more sense when you realize that for several years running, the most-stolen car was the Toyota Camry.)  I would think that it's more difficult to unload a tandem, especially a high-end one.  And I would expect that a bicycle built for three (which was misidentified as a tandem in the article in which I learned about its theft) would be even trickier to sell, "chop shop" or simply disappear. How many triplet fames have you seen?

The Rumseys.  Courtesy: Salt Lake City Police Department

Fortunately for the Rumsey family of Houston, it didn't take long for their three-seater to be recovered after it was stolen in Salt Lake City.  They commissioned the bike 18 years old, not only so Dave and Merle could pedal with Ford, their 36-year-old son with Down's Syndrome, but also so it could travel with them.  The bike can be disassembled to fit into a suitcase and has therefore accompanied the family on every trip they've taken.

So, as you can imagine, the bike entwines all sorts of memories with its usefulness to the family.  That is the reason why they were so glad it was returned to them.  And perhaps it was a good thing that the bike is unlike almost any other.  The Salt Lake Police didn't say whether they'd caught the thief. If they hadn't, perhaps he realized it would be too difficult to sell or otherwise unload and abandoned it. What would he have done with a Picasso or a Caravaggio?

Marianne Martin Finally Gets Her Due--Somewhat

 It's one thing to call a baseball player "the Black Babe Ruth."  One player wore that moniker.  But some called "the Bambino" "the White* Josh Gibson."

Gibson died at age 35, three months before Jackie Robinson broke Major League Baseball's color barrier.*  Yet he wasn't enshrined in the sport's Hall of Fame until a quarter-century after his passing.

Five years ago,  Rogatien Vachon was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame--more than three decades after he played his last game in the National Hockey League.  When he retired, he was among the sport's top five or ten in several categories for his position.  He spent the bulk of his career with the Los Angeles Kings, where he became the franchise's first superstar. But, as great as he was, he was overshadowed by other goalies like Ken Dryden, who played for the dynastic Montreal Canadiens teams, and Ed Giacomin, who spent his career with the New York Rangers and Detroit Red Wings.

So why am I mentioning them on this blog?

Well, a parallel just played out in the world of cycling.  On 6 November, Marianne Martin will accept her induction to the US Bicycling Hall of Fame in Colorado Springs.  She actually was inducted last year but, due to the pandemic, her ceremony was postponed.  

Her enshrinement comes three decades after she retired from competition and nearly four after her most notable achievement on two wheels.  That her induction was so late in coming is also a sad commentary on the state of competitive cycling.

Marianne Martin and Laurent Fignon, winners of the women's and men's Tour de France, 1984

In 1984, she won the inaugural edition of the women's Tour de France.  The race, 18 days long, ran in tandem with  (though on shorter courses than, with the same climbs and peaks as) the men's version.  Six editions of the women's Tour were held, the last coming in 1989, the year Greg LeMond came back from a near-fatal hunting accident to win the men's Tour for the second time.

LeMond got his induction, well-deserved as it was, five years after his last race.  Martin's honor took a quarter-century longer to come her way.  Still, she doesn't express anger or resentment. "Half my friends don't even know that I was a cyclist.  It's not something I carry out in front of me," says Martin, who is a photographer.  While she says that cycling was something she did, not who she was, it's hard not to compare her post-cycling life and reputation with that of LeMond who, in turn, is less famous than the disgraced Lance Armstrong.

*--The only athletes I respect as much as human beings as I respect Jackie Robinson are Billie Jean King, Muhammad Ali, Colin Kaepernick and Simon Biles. That said, I will not refute (or confirm) the rumors that Jackie wasn't the first Black Major League Baseball player, as others--including Babe himself--were rumored to be Black.  Also, it wouldn't surprise me if some light-skinned Black players moved north (where all of the MLB teams were, and Jim Crow laws weren't) and passed themselves off as white.  

Who's Directing The Ride?

 As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I've ridden tandems only a couple of times in my life.  I can't, therefore, claim to understand the relationships between members of a tandem-riding "couple," some of whom are indeed married or otherwise enjoined.

Somehow I imagine that in at least some tandem-riding couples, one member serves as the navigator.  In some ensembles, the "captain"--the rider in front--is directing the ride and the person in back is mainly supplying muscle power, while other pairings include a "stoker"--the person in the rear--who navigates.

I got to thinking about those relationships when I came across this:

Must More Riding Mean More Fatalities?

In a coincidence that, perhaps, isn't such a coincidence, I chanced upon an item about an increase in the number of cyclists killed on Texas roads at the same time a local radio news program mentioned that pedestrian fatalities here in New York City have increased during the past year.

I have also seen and heard reports of increases in the number of cyclists killed and injured on New York City streets.  So, hearing about pedestrian fatalities here and cyclists killed in the Lone Star State did not surprise me because cyclist and pedestrian casualties tend to rise or fall in tandem.

The reports point to a dramatic increase in the number of cyclists as a reason for more crashes and fatalities.  The same isn't said for pedestrians, though I have seen more people walking around as pandemic-induced restrictions are eased or lifted.  But I think that there is a related, and more relevant, reason for the increase in deaths and injuries among cyclists and pedestrians.

During the first few months of the pandemic, there was little traffic on the roads.  I can recall riding to Connecticut and back last spring and being able to count, on both hands, the number of motorized vehicles I saw along the way, not counting the ones that crossed the RFK Memorial Bridge.  Until last spring, I never could have imagined such an occurence on a 140 kilometer road ride that takes me through the Bronx and Westchester County before crossing the state line.

As spring turned into summer, traffic was still light, but I noticed faster and more aggressive driving, including some drag racing and other flouting of traffic laws.  Those things were annoying, but I didn't feel I was in danger because the still-light traffic afforded a wide berth between me and the drivers.

During the past few months, though, I've seen more traffic.  Some people, I guess, are returning to their workplaces and old routines, while others started driving and bought cars (for the first time, in some instances) because they didn't want to use mass transit.

But the folks who got used to driving fast and aggressively, or even carelessly, aren't adjusting to the new reality.  They still want to drive as if they have the streets to themselves.  And, in my own unscientific observation, it seems that police aren't enforcing traffic laws as much as they were before the pandemic--if, indeed, they were enforcing them against any but the lowest-hanging fruit (i.e., cyclists and pedestrians).

Having done a fair amount of cycling in other cities, states and countries, I can make this observation:  Building bike lanes and lecturing cyclists about safety--which most of us practice to the best degree we can--does little to prevent tragic encounters between motorists and cyclists and pedestrians.  

What will  make life better for everyone involved are sensible laws and policies (like the Idaho Stop) crafted by people who understand what it's like to ride a city's streets--and a culture rather than a mere lifestyle of cycling.  The culture of which I speak is one in which cycling is seen as a viable mode of transportation rather than just a form of recreation for privileged young people. Such a culture exists in some European countries; that is why there is more respect between drivers and cyclists and pedestrians.

Otherwise, cities and other jurisdictions can continue to build poorly-designed and constructed bike lanes that lead from nowhere to nowhere, and cyclists--or pedestrians or motorists--won't be any safer.

America Runs On It. But Should We Ride It?

Come on, admit it:  You've stopped at Dunkin' Donuts during at least one of your rides!

(I'll admit to having stopped for all sorts of "munchies" during rides, including maple donuts at Tim Horton's in Montreal, croissants and pain au chocolat at various French bakeries, kaimaki in Greece and various fruit treats in Laos and Cambodia.  And, yes, for Boston Cream or blueberry donuts, or chocolate-dipped French cruellers, at DD!)

The thing is, Dunkin' Donuts knows we exist.  They may know our preferences in comestibles, but not necessarily in machinery.

I came to that conclusion after seeing a photo of DD's new tandem bicycle.

Yes, you read that right.  Dunkin' Donuts is dropping its usual offering of donut-themed holiday gifts, probably because people almost always purchase them on impulse in Dunkin' shops, where there are fewer customers owing to social distancing mandates.  The new tandem bike is available only as an online purchase.

While some might like a frame adorned with the pink-and-orange logo (I have to admit, it is kinda cute!), one has to wonder about the bike itself.  To paraphrase Molly Hurford at Bicycling , American may run on Dunkin', but nobody should ride a Dunkin' bike.

To me, it looks like a "chopper" without the banana seat.  Furthermore, it's offered in only one size--with a road-style configuration both in the front and rear.  Most one-size-fits-all tandems are step-through at least in the rear, if not in the front as well.

Perhaps worst of all, the rear seat is behind the rear wheel, which makes a good saddle position all but impossible for most riders.  Also, the front ("captain's") cockpit is all but impossibly long for a bike its size, and the rear is so short that all but the tiniest riders would have to sit upright.

Dunkin' Donuts website does not give specifications regarding standover height, let alone geometry or componentry.  I'm guessing that while the folks at DD might want us to "run on Dunkin'" they might not expect anyone to actually ride on their bikes.  If anything, the bike is a collector's item for the most fanatical Dunkin' devotee.  As for me, I'll stick to the Boston Cream and  blueberry donuts, and the chocolate-dipped French cruellers.

 

Double Trouble?

I've ridden tandems only twice in my life.  Each time, I rode with a different partner.  So I never had to think about the logistical challenges tandem-cycling couples face:

From HipPostcard

Girls Rule--The World!

Half a century ago, Beryl Burton broke the 12-hour time trial record.  Not "just" the women's record, mind you:  She broke the record by a full eight kilometers (five miles), which is something like a runner shaving five minutes off a marathon record.  

Almost two years ago, Denise Mueller-Korenek rode faster on a bicycle than any woman--or man--before her.  She beat a then-23-year-old record by 27.3 kilometers, or 17 miles, per hour.  At 296 kilometers per hour (183.93 mph), she rode faster than an Airbus A340 taking off.

Now, here's another addition to the pantheon of women breaking men's records:  Cat Dixon and Raz Marsden pedaled a tandem bicycle around the world in 263 days, beating the previous record by 18 days.

Cat Dixon (l) and Raz Marsden (r)

Their 29,391 km (18,263 mile) route took them through 25 countries, where they encountered everything from a continent-wide heat wave in Europe, monsoons in Asia and brush fires in Australia.  

But perhaps their most daunting challenge was one they couldn't have anticipated.  They caught one of the last ferries back to their native England--where they began their ride--on the day, in March, when the COVID-19-induced travel ban began.

Oh, and they're only a few years younger than I am!

Their feat has been recognized by the Guinness Book of World Records.

(Thanks to "voyage of the eye" for alerting me to Ms. Dixon's and Marsden's story.)

Piloting From Behind

Can a tandem "stoker" be a "back seat driver"?

White, Male, Single And Five Feet Wide

Coming across two articles got me to thinking about the latest "boom" in bicycling.

While I certainly see more people cycling to work and school, or for pleasure, than I did in my youth, I can't help but to conclude, at least from my own observations,  that the demographics of cycling really haven't changed during the more than four decades I have been a committed cyclist.  

These days, I almost never ride more than a few blocks before I see another cyclist who's old enough to have a driver's license.  Time was when I could ride all day and not see another adult on a bike, even when the weather was nice.  

To be sure, there I see more nonwhite and female cyclists now than I did then.  But most of the folks I see riding on the streets, on the paths or in the parks are white and male--and young.  Apparently, the situation is similar in San Francisco and other cities.  

If bike lanes in that city are indeed "five feet wide, white and male", they are also most likely young and single.  In some parts of this city, I rarely see adults, male or female--let alone families--on bicycles.  I have never had children, but I imagine it can be difficult for families to ride together, especially if the children vary widely in age--and if one has a disability.

I never thought about that last point until I read about the Kamps in Ankeny, Iowa.  Nine years ago, the mother, Angie (who shares my mother's name!) gave birth to triplets--at 25 weeks.  While Annalise, Brenna and Lucy all had complications, Brenna has had it worst, with cerebral palsy, epilepsy, hydrocephalus.  

When they were younger, the girls, Angie and their father Brad rode together on tandem trikes. Now Annalise and Lucy can ride on their own, but it's more difficult for even her mom or dad to ride a bike with Brenna because "she's gotten bigger", which means that "if she leans one way or another, it kind of takes the whole bike down."

Now the Kamps are in the running for The Great Bike Giveaway, its prize being an adaptive tandem cycle in which an adult can ride on the rear.  Whoever gets the most votes wins the bike.

I don't know the Kemps, but I'm rooting for them--and for more people who are unlike the young white male I once was to ride.  Not that I have anything against young white dudes--or single people (I am still one, after all!), but because cycling has opened up the world to me, I want to see more of the world cycling.

If Only One Of You Makes It

Question of the Day:

A tandem enters an intersection.  The green signal is about to change.  The "captain" (the rider in front) makes it past the signal before it turns red.  But the "stoker" (rider in the rear) doesn't.

If some cop with too much time on his or her hands sees this, does he or she ticket:

a.) only the stoker,
b.) both the stoker and captain, or
c.) neither?

I have ridden tandems only a few times in my life, so I must admit that the question never entered my mind--until I saw this:

Image credit:  Copyright:© Drew Dernavich via Cartoon Collections - www.cartooncollections.com/cartoon?searchID=CC144669

Who Is Your Tandem Partner?

The next time you feel your boss is riding you, think about this:

via GIPHY


What are friends for?

via GIPHY

From The Barrel: How Does It Age?

The bicycle has a two-century history, if you regard the draisienne as its starting point.  During that time, two-wheeled machines operated by foot power have been made from all sorts of materials, including wood--as the draisenne was.

Every generation or so, someone or another "discovers" wood as a bike-building material.  Some advantages of the material are its relative light weight and stiffness.  They, of course, are the reasons why wooden bicycle rims were used, mainly on track bikes, for decades even when nearly all frames were made of steel.  They were banned because bicycle wheels, especially those on track bikes, are built with highly tensioned spokes and ridden with high-pressure tires.  The problem was that an impact or other problem that would cause a wheel with a metal rim to bend or fold, but remain intact, would cause a wooden rim to shatter and send sharp splinters flying about.

I imagine that wooden frames wouldn't have such problems, as the joints that hold them together wouldn't be as taut as bicycle spokes, or experience impact in the same way.  On the other hand, I have to wonder how a wooden frame would hold up in various weather conditions, especially extremes of wetness or dryness.

If nothing else, a wooden bike would have a "cool factor", as few other people have one.  That is probably the reason why it would be such a popular item at an event like the North American Handmade Bicycle Show, held in Sacramento two weeks ago.

This "Cooper Bicycle" was created by industrial designer and University of Kansas professor Lance Rake. To join the wooden beams, and for the dropouts, he cut pieces of steel with a waterjet.  The seat and headtubes were also steel, just like the ones found on a traditional frame.

What makes the bike unique--and inspired its name--is the source of its wood:  a wine barrel.  A barrel-maker was known as a cooper, and I don't doubt that more than a few of them made bikes, as blacksmiths and other artisans did.  

That bikes were made by such people, and from materials like the ones Rake used, is the inspiration for a vision of his.  He wants to sell Cooper bikes, he says, but he is also interested in making plans and patterns available to local artisans "so we can make bikes from local resources."

Does he have plans to use his machine on a wine-tasting bike tour in, say, California or France or Italy?  "I hate to admit it, but I'm more of beer and whisky drinker," he confesses, "but my wife is into Red Blends."  Could a tandem be in the works?

What We Can See Because of Ken Bukowski

During a conversation with an acquaintance of mine, I mentioned that I served as a "captain" on tandem rides for the blind and visually impaired.

This acquaintance, who makes workplaces ADA-compliant, wasn't surprised.  "Really, the only thing a visually-impaired, or even a blind, person can do that you or I can't is to drive a car," she declared.

Still, I must admit that of the ways one can become disabled, losing my sight is the one I fear most.  Even after hearing my acquaintance's words, and similar claims from others who are, or who work with people who are, visually impaired, I have a difficult time imagining how I would do almost anything I do now without my sight.

Certainly, I don't know how I'd ride (except, of course, on the back of a tandem) or how I might have worked as a bike mechanic. There are, however, people who have assembled and fixed bikes without the ability to see.

From The Buffalo News

One of them was Ken Bukowski.  Until September, he'd worked at Shickluna Bikes and Darts in Buffalo, New York.  For more than three decades, he assembled and repaired bikes, and gave customers lessons on how to shift gears and ride safely.  He was so good at all of these things that some customers were unaware, at first, that he was blind.  According to shop owner Tom Pallas, "many times he steered us to a missing tool because he heard where we had set it down."

Left sightless from a gunshot wound to the head at age 24, Bukowski went to the Blind Association of Western New York (now the Olmsted Center for Sight) to learn how to type.  Soon, he was enrolled in the Association's pilot program for bike repair.  When he completed that training, the Association convinced Pallas to hire him.

They worked--and-- rode together.  In fact, they pedaled the Five Borough Bike Tour on a tandem in 1987.  The thing that made him a good rider is probably the same thing that made him a good mechanic:  "concentration", according to Pallas. 

In addition to fixing bikes, riding and organizing rides, Bukowski did other things people don't normally associate with the blind:  bowling, skydiving and cooking. About the latter, his wife, Elaine Filer, said that because he didn't work much during the winter, by the time she got home from work "he'd have almost the whole dinner prepared."  

She was not the only one to benefit from his culinary skills:  For many years, he also volunteered as a cook at the Little Portion Friary, a homeless shelter in Buffalo.

He finally stopped working at the shop because of his bout with cancer, which claimed his life on 11 November.  He was 65.  Whether or not you think he lived a long life, you can't deny this:  He left an example. That, certainly, is something any of us, regardless of our abilities or disabilities, can do. 

His Reward For Helping Others Ride

Yesterday, I complained about boneheaded planners and inconsiderate (or just clueless) drivers.  So, dear readers, I figured I'd give you a feel-good story today.

Owen Werner's mother is justly proud of him.  The 11-year-old from Elk Rapids, Michigan learned that a man in nearby Kalkaska modifies bicycles for special-needs and low-income kids.  So, Werner started a fundraiser in his school to help the man's work--and get those bikes to disabled and poor kids.

His efforts paid off, in the way he hoped--and in a way he didn't expect.

You see, Owen is one of the kids he was trying to help--although he wasn't thinking of himself when he started the fundraiser.  But, apparently, someone else noticed--specifically, the owners of McLain Cycle and Fitness.  They gave him a specially-modified bike for his needs:  He has a condition that's kept his muscles and joints from developing normally.

Owen Werner

In watching the video of him, I couldn't help but to remember someone I knew in high school.  He walked and moved in a way similar to how Owen gets around.  But he had the misfortune of growing up in a place and time where it was believed that kids with similar handicaps were incapable of any sort of physical activity.  He was even left back a year because, in spite of having an otherwise-perfect academic record, he didn't pass Phys Ed.  

Fortunately for him, he was extremely (almost frighteningly) smart and talented in all sorts of other ways.  I have to wonder, though, what his life would have been like had he grown up now--or simply in some place with more forward-thinking people than my high school had in the mid-1970s.  

Seeing Owen Werner also reminded me of something that I see in my work and everyday life:  How often physical disability and poverty go hand-in-hand.  If you go to any public housing complex, you will find disproportionate numbers of people, young and old, in wheelchairs and walkers, or who need other kinds of physical assistance.  At number of them are, and have been, my students and have spent all or parts of their lives in "the projects".  

There are, of course, several reasons for that. One is that the physical disability of a child can impoverish a family.  Another is that disabled people, in spite of all of the technological and social advances of the past few decades, have much more difficulty finding employment, let alone anything that pays well.  Moreover, a kid from a low-income background--or an adult who has trouble getting a job with a good insurance plan--might not get treatment that could keep a low-grade malady from turning into a crippling disability.

On a more positive note, I also couldn't help but to think of how versatile cycling is.  Someone, I forget who, said that a bicycle (or tricycle) can be adapted to just about any physical disability besides blindness or deafness.  And, of course, deaf and blind people can ride a tandem with a sighted or hearing "captain." (I know:  I played that role on a few rides with blind riders.)

Somehow, though, I don't think anything is going to stop Owen from doing whatever he wants.  Aleasha Witt, his mother, has every reason to be proud.

What Should You Watch For? A Horse, Of Course!

In previous posts, I've written about close encounters with animals.

As Steve A pointed out, it's pretty rare for cyclists to get hit by a deer because we're "a lot easier for a running deer to avoid than a large, speeding car."  I would imagine the same could be said for other animals.  Even so, it's pretty scary to see a deer dart across a path or a road 10 meters in front of you--especially if you're speeding down a hill!

One scenario that most of us rarely, if ever, imagine is a horse galloping into our path.  That's pretty odd when you realize that, at least here in North America, we are riding in proximity to our equine more often than we are to, say, Alpine Ibexes or macaques (or elephants--I saw one not far away but I think I might've scared it off!).  This is especially true in urban parks, which often have designated bike paths and horse trails not far from each other. 

Well, about a week and a half ago, a woman lost control of the horse she was riding in Gates Mills, an affluent village near Cleveland.  She and the horse careened into a couple riding a tandem bicycle.  I couldn't find many other details about the crash except that the cycling couple suffered "non-life-threatening" injuries.

Oh, and the woman riding the horse was found to be at fault for the crash, but she wasn't charged.  Hmm...Maybe she should get points on her license.  

If You Want To Escape, Pack Light

The first rule of thumb for cycle touring is:  Feel guilty about carrying anything more than your maps and water bottle.

It's the sort of advice I might have given when I was younger.  But I cannot claim credit for it: The honor belongs to Doug Shidell and Phillip van Valkenberg. Their pearl of wisdom came in a book they co-authored:

Now tell me:  Does that book look like it came out of the early '70's, or what?  Well, it did, a couple of years after Shidell and van Valkenberg met.  The former was a student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and the latter was a recent alumnus.  They were a couple of long-haired guys with "hippie tendencies" and a recently-found passion for cycling.

Doug Shidell and Phillip van Valkenberg.  This photo was published on the inside of the back cover of Bicycle Escape Routes.

They also loved their home state of Wisconsin, and their book is as much a billet doux to the Badger State as it is a guide to cycling in it.  In addition to maps and descriptions of rides, it gave sage advice about how to deal with snarling dogs and whatever else a bicycle tourist might encounter, as well as counsel on how to live in the moment:  "Marsh hawks spend much of their time sitting on fence posts in the fields," they wrote.  "If you see a bird sitting or flying low over the fields, stop near a tree or bush to remain inconspicuous and watch him for a little while."

The book also had a sense of humor about everything, including the squeaky bearings on Shidell's bike:  "We were serenaded by this bicycle's version of 'Song of the Volga Boatman' on every upgrade.  Respite of sorts came later when a spot weld let go on one of Doug's racks, creating a squeak that completely drowned out the original noise."

Since that book was published, van Valkenberg, now 73, has written seven more about cycling in Wisconsin.  He has also been a nearly non-stop advocate for cycling in the state, having worked to bring about the Elroy-Sparta State Trail and organized tours, races other rides.  These days, he and his partner, Georgia Kaftan, ride a tandem recumbent bike.

Shidell is 67 and lives in Minneapolis.  He was the first employee of Quality Bicycle Products, from which he's retired.  He also has written about bicycling and bike advocacy for the Minneapolis Star-Tribune and started a website and map-publishing effort called Bikeeverywhere.

Interestingly, he says that his cycling and  bike advocacy were motivated by environmental concerns.  He first heard about global warming in the 1970s, he said, and because the "dangers made sense to me", he thought, "I'll just start riding a bike instead of driving around."

I wonder whether either of them carries anything more than his maps and water bottle--and, if he does, whether he feels guilty about it.

A Buddy Bike For Disabled Kids

Back in the day, I served as a "captain" on tandem rides for The Lighthouse.  That meant I would  pedal and steer on the front of a tandem, while a blind or visually impaired person would be the "stoker" on the back seat.

And, yes, I followed all of the rules of being a gentleman cyclist--including that one.

I've heard that similar rides have been offered for deaf or audially-impaired folks.  That makes sense for the same reasons that tandem rides for the blind are a good idea:  It allows them to share in the joy we feel when we ride.  Also, it shows that people who partially or completely lack vision or hearing can do just about anything the rest of us can do. 

(One of the best and most creative florists I ever encountered was legally blind.  He could see colors, forms and arrangements, but had no peripheral visions.  Thus, while people and organizations called on him for weddings, banquets and other occasions, he couldn't drive!)

From The East Side Riders Bike Club website

Now the East Side Riders Bike Club (ESRBC) of Los Angeles is trying to provide a similar service for another group of people who have been, too often, deprived of the opportunity to ride and do much else we take for granted.  They work to help the Watts neighborhood (site of the 1965 riots) with bike programs and other charitable work to help keep kids out of gangs and other criminal activities.  

As it happens, communities like Watts have disproportionate numbers of developmentally-disabled children.  (When I worked as a writer-in-residence in New York City schools, I was struck by how many of the "special education" or "special needs" kids with whom I sometimes worked were residents of the projects or other poverty pockets.)  So, the good folks of the ESRBC saw another opportunity to help:  Getting kids with disabilities on bikes.

To that end, they appealed to Buddy Bikes, a Florida-based company that offers "adaptive" bikes.  Buddy Bikes is raising money so that ESRBC can get one of their machines--which cost $1500-$2000--at a reduced price.

The "Buddy Bike" that ESRBC would receive is like a tandem in reverse:  The "captain" pedals from the rear seat, while the disabled kid spins his or her feet from the front  What that means, of course, is that the Buddy Bike has a more complex steering system than what is normally found on traditional tandems.

The sad irony of this, though, is that Buddy Bikes is making their offer just as they are closing shop.  Their website says they will stay in business long enough to sell off their remaining inventory, and that they will keep their website up for another three years after.

We can only hope that the ESRBC continues their work!