I Am An Invasive Species

I am an invasive species.

All right, I won't give myself that much credit.  I am only one of an invasive species.

Is it because I'm female?  Transgender? (Yes, we really are trying to take over the world!;-))  Someone who didn't vote for Trump?

No, it's not because of any of those things.  At least, that's what Scott Sales, a Montana State Senator, would have you believe.

Yes, Senator Sales, I am a cyclist. IIII aaam aaa cyyyy-clisssst.  Booo!  I am coming to take over your state! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!

OK, so he didn't say "Cyclists are an invasive species" as an exclamatory or declarative sentence.  But he did something that, in effect, labelled us as such.

He wants to make any out-of-state cyclist entering the state buy a $25 sticker, which would have to be attached to the bicycle and renewed every year, by tacking an amendment onto SB 363, a bill about invasive species management.  Specifically, he wants the money he shakes down from us (Well, all right, I wasn't planning to go to Montana this year!)  to be used against an invasive mussel species in the state's waterways.

So let me get this straight (Please don't read anything into that last word!):  Senator Sales is equating cyclists with invasive mussels.

Please tell me he's being ironic.  Is he capable of irony?  (From Montana Public Radio)

I don't have to tell you how absurd this idea is.  What in the world can taxing cyclists do to halt the spread of a mussel that multiplies faster than anything else in the Big Sky State's rivers, streams and lakes?  

Folks who use motorized fishing boats don't have to pay any such fee for the privilege.  Now, perhaps I'm ignorant in the ways mussels spread their range, but I should think that one boat can do far more to facilitate that than all of the cyclists in the world ever could.

Hon. Sales' proposal, moreover, demonstrates all sorts of  profound ignorance regarding cyclists.  He said that cyclists need "to put some skin in the game" in regards to road and recreation funding in the state".  He has called cyclists "some of the rudest and most self-centered people I've ever met" who "think they own the highway."

This, from a guy who shot down another bill that would have required motorists to give cyclists a three-foot berth when passing at 35MPH and five feet while driving any faster than that.  

Of course, anyone who would put the kibosh on such an idea doesn't realize that, unlike motorists, we can't operate our machines while texting or distracted in other ways.  Moreover, we are far less likely to ride than drivers are to drive while munching on fast food or imbibing alcohol because, well, it's difficult, if not impossible, for us to do those things.

About his "skin in the game" comment:   It's not the first time I've heard this wholly inaccurate perception of what we do or don't have invested "in the game."  Of course, it wasn't nearly as dangerous when it came from the folks from whom I've previously heard it as it is when it emanates from the mouth or pen of a lawmaker.   

You see, we pay the same taxes as motorists pay, whether or not we drive.  Contrary to what some believe, there is no  separate "road tax", at least not from the Federal government or any state or municipality of which I'm aware.  In fact, the only taxes I don't pay that any motorist pays are the ones added to gasoline.

Aside from that, I have just as much "skin in the game" as any motorist.  I'll admit, though, that as the weather gets nicer and I'm riding more, I won't have as much skin in the game because, well, I won't have as much skin.  That, I should think, would make me less invasive.

When The Best-Laid Plans Lead To A Lane To Reverend Ike

Hopefully, you have all had an experience of not "getting the guy (or girl)" but ending up with The One.  


I'm not going to describe anything quite as momentous as that.  But I am going to relate a tale of things not going according to plan and turning out better than I'd planned.


I didn't work on any of my bikes yesterday.  The rain didn't materialize.  However, I did other things that took more time than I expected.  So I got to spend only half an hour on my bike.


On the other hand, today I didn't have classes due to a scheduling quirk.  And the afternoon turned into the nicest one we've had in months.  The morning fog and clouds burned away in the afternoon sun; within a couple of hours, the temperature rose from the mid-50's to near 80.  After sending off my state tax return and a birthday card for my father, I gulped down some green tea and yogurt with almonds and raisins and took Tosca out for a spin.

The route I followed today was the same as the one I took last year, when I did my first post-surgery ride of more than an hour.  It's also the route that I took for one of my last rides before surgery.  From my place, I took the RFK Bridge to Randall's Island and Manhattan, where I pedaled through upper Manhattan to the George Washington Bridge.  On the New Jersey side of the bridge, I rode atop the Palisades, along the Hudson River, to the edge of Jersey City, where I descended to the Exchange Place waterfront.   Then it was a matter of following, glancing away from, then following again, the waterfront through Jersey City and Bayonne (the hometown of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons) to the bridge bearing the latter city's name to Staten Island, where I took the Ferry.


It's an interesting combination of urban neighborhoods, cookie-cutter suburbs, blue-collar and yuppie havens, and views of the river, skyline, bridges that reflect the color of the morning mist and trestles that put the rust in Rust Belt.


Just before the GW Bridge, there's an interesting or hideous (depending on your point of view) theatre that was probably built during the 1920's.  It now serves as a pulpit for the ex of a famous singer/performer who has done some of her best-known work since splitting up with him.

Said preacher is Reverend Ike.  Yes, that Rev. Ike:  the one who was Mr. Tina Turner.  Of course, he never saw the relationship that way, though sometimes I think that, deep down, he must have known it would come to that.  Quite possibly the worst thing for the long-term prospects of a marriage is a wife who is obviously more talented than the husband.  (Somehow marriages stay together when the man is more talented.  That's a story for another post, or more precisely, another blog, or some sort of study by the NIH.)  At least Sonny Bono admitted as much about Cher; from what I understand, Rev. Ike was very abusive toward Tina.  


Hmm...Are politics and preaching the last refuges of husbands who can't make it on their own and whose wives get sick of them riding on their coattails?


I digress, again.  About half a mile south (downtown, to New Yorkers) of Rev. Ike's temple, I saw something I hadn't seen since I last rode up that way:

It's the shortest bike lane in New York.  Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a bit.  But it does serve a purpose:  It guides cyclists through one of the trickiest intersections in upper Manhattan, if not all of the city.  When St. Nicholas Avenue (on which the lane is located) crosses West 163rd Street, it also intersects with Audubon Avenue which, like St. Nicholas, is one of the main thoroughfares of that part of town.  


If the intersection were a clock and you were riding on St. Nicholas from the six o'clock position, the traffic from Audubon would be coming at you from the two and eight o'clock position, while the 163rd Street traffic would be coming from somewhere between the two and three o'clock position, and somewhere between the eight and nine o'clock positions. So, from St. Nick, you would cross 163rd and Audubon as if they were an eight-lane highway.  


The new path leads to a couple of concrete islands where there are signs, and from which the path continues to 165th Street.

After that and Rev. Ike, the rest of the ride was a piece of cake!

Budding Fall At The Harbor

Yesterday I started riding to Connecticut.  But in Mamaroneck, a bit more than halfway up, I detoured into a couple of cute downtowns and onto lanes that wind by mansions, country clubs and horse trotting courses, and through tax-shelter farms.

When I ended up back on Boston Post Road in Mamaroneck, I stopped to eat the bagel and small wedge of cheese I packed in the bag of Zebbie, my Mercian King of Mercia with the striped seat tube.  

Honestly, I rode her for one reason:  She looks autumnal.  So did the scene at Mamaroneck harbor, at least somewhat.

If you look closely or enlarge the image, you can see budding Fall foliage on the right.  Actually, it looks (to me, anyway) like someone lightly brushed red and orange across a cluster of leaves.  

More Bike Lanes, Fewer Commuters

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a Seattle train station where bike parking "sucks".

It may be one of the reasons why the number of Emerald City commuters who get to work by bike fell by 20 percent from 2016 to 2017.

Still, Seattle remains one of the top US cities for bicycle commuting, at least in terms of the percentage of people who say they go by bike.  Its decline was, however, more precipitous than that of the US as a whole, where bicycle commuting fell by 3.2 percent during the same period.

The USA Today article in which I came across these statistics said the declines came in spite of the increasing number of bike lanes and other efforts made by cities to become more "bike friendly".  To be fair, the article also points out that the price of gasoline has dropped during the past several years, which enticed more people to drive.  It also points out, as I pointed out in yesterday's post, that some passengers of Uber, Lyft and other "ride shares" are using those services in lieu of cycling.

One thing the article hinted at is something I've long suspected:  that, in the years before "ride sharing" services became popular, bicycle commuting might have been increasing in dense urban areas, but not in suburban and rural areas.  In the suburbs, as I pointed out in yesterday's post, there isn't bicycle parking at rail and bus stations commuters use to get to their jobs in the city.  And, in rural areas (and outer-ring suburbs), some commutes are simply too long to do by bicycle.  

Here is something else I've noticed:  People who move to the city to be near their jobs are mostly young and making relatively good salaries.  Some of them commute by bicycle, though most take mass transit or "ride shares."  But once they get married and have children, they want to buy houses.  Unless they are making very high salaries, that means moving some distance from the city.

So, my analysis, for what it's worth, goes like this:  Whether bicycle commuting increases or decreases from year to year, it will mainly be a practice of young, affluent and single people in central areas of cities--unless society, the economy and policies change.  Until housing in cities becomes more affordable, and tax policies don't encourage fossil fuel consumption, the typical bike commuter will be putting his or her laptop in the front basket of a bike-share bike he or she will ride to the office.

"Like Herding Cats"

 You've heard the expression that something is "like herding cats."

Well, have you ever tried to teach a cat to ride a bike?

You'd think that with all of my experience as a cyclist, teacher and professor, I could teach anyone anything when it comes to cycling.  Well, some things tax even my wealth of experience!

I'm going to try visualization.  Maybe if she sees enough images like this one, she'll accompany me on a ride:

There's still time!

Five Times The Pleasure—Or Pain?

 One of the dilemmas (dilemmae?) of going on a ride with a random group of people is that, more than likely, their experience and abilities vary, sometimes greatly. If there isn’t an agreement about the distance, pace and rest stops, such a ride can tax the endurance of one rider and the patience of another.

Could this be a solution?

Remembrance of Bikes Past

Funny how, after getting a new bike, I'm having a remembrance of bikes past.  Not that the new bike makes me wish for the old ones.  Rather, I think it has to do with the fact that Helene is my first new bike (and the second bike I've bought) since my surgery.  


Perhaps one day I'll sit down and list, and possibly write remembrances of, other bikes I've owned and ridden. 


While searching for something else on the internet, I came across this photo in ratrodbikes .  

My very first bike (that I can recall, anyway) was the diamond-frame version of this bike:  a Royce Union three-speed.  


The bike was my grandfather's last Christmas gift to me.  I was seven years old, if I recall correctly, and it would be another three years before I could ride the bike!  Being the eldest sibling, and growing up in a time when adults (including my parents) rarely, if ever, rode bicycles, I had no worries about my treasure becoming a hand-me-down.  


I rode the Royce-Union until I got my first ten-speed at age thirteen:  a department-store Murray that I managed to wreck within a year.  Then, with money I saved from delivering newspapers, I bought a Schwinn Continental for the princely sum of 105 dollars, including tax.  The shop in which I bought that Schwinn also sold Peugeots, including a PX 10 for 250 dollars.  Then, I thought it utter decadence to spend that much on a bike.  Three years later, I would pay 350 dollars for the very same bike--used!  


I hope that one day soon,  I will list all of the bicycles I've had--or, at least, the ones I recall.  Until then, consider this the "down payment."  In a sense, that's what my Royce Union three-speed was.

He Had To Watch A Cyclist

As the majority of Americans support equality for LGBTQ people, women, members of racial and ethnic "minorities," the disabled and others who have been marginalized, those on the other side--who see rights they've always enjoyed as "special privileges" when extended to members of the groups of people I've mentioned--become more virulent, vicious and even violent in expressing anger at having to share their privilege.

Among the empowered are motorists who think the roads are theirs, and theirs alone.  They accuse us--cyclists, pedestrians and users of mass transportation--as being subsidized by tax dollars (which, too often, the privileged don't even pay).   Some among them think they have a "right" to express their umbrage in whatever way they choose--even if it endangers or kills the objects of their rage.

While I still interact, thankfully, with many courteous drivers--especially those who drive trucks--I have also had more charged interactions with aggressive drivers than I can recall in some time.  On the return leg of a ride to Connecticut, just as I was crossing the state line at Glenville and King Streets, some guy who looked like his wife hadn't given him any since Obama's first term pulled up alongside me, in his pickup truck, just so he could shout "Fuck you!" 

While the temperature has risen, so to speak, since Trump first ran for President, I can't put all of the blame on him (as tempting as that may be).  Rather, I've noticed that some celebrities--mostly male, all of them privileged by their wealth and fame-- expressing veiled and not-so-veiled hostility toward those who aren't "the cool kids" in their eyes.  A while back, Whoopi Goldberg whined, on The View, about the chauffered drive to her gated community being slowed down by, oh, 7 seconds or so, by a cyclist.  Now it seems that "comedian" Paul Costabile, who seems to sneer with the smugness of a bully who knows that nobody will fight him, took a video of himself taunting a cyclist who was riding as far to the right as he could.

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A post shared by 🇵🇭Dino /deee•no/ not /dy•no/ (@_deeeno)

The worst part, though, is that Costabile is taking the video while driving.  Now, unless he's employing some trick of which I'm not aware, he's leaning as he's driving with one hand.  So, he's endangering the cyclist even more than he would have had he simply shouted slurs and curses out his window.

In the meantime, Costablile whined about having to watch that rider "work his glutes."  Sounds to me like he's insecure:  He looks like he can use some time with his feet on two pedals rather one foot on one pedal.  

That, of course, is what causes the privileged to pick on those who've just won the same rights they've always enjoyed:  It's scary for those who've enjoyed power and privilege to realize that other people could actually challenge their place in the social, political and economic heirarchy.  We, as cyclists, do that by our presence:  It shows motorists that the roads don't "belong" only to them.

Note:  The video in this post was deleted from Instagram.  However, I was able to post it thanks to a screengrab by @_deeno.

Happy (?) Fourth

 This morning I pedaled out to City Island on Tosca, my Mercian fixie.  Although humid, the air pleasantly balanced early summer with early morning: just enough warmth with just enough briskness.

We had our Pride festivities, and the end of Pride Month, on Sunday.  Still, I was surprised, as I have been during my most recent rides to the Island, at how many rainbow flags I saw draped from window sills and door frames, fluttering ever so lightly in the sea breeze.

Riding back along the Pelham Parkway path, I had a terrifying thought:  This might be the last Fourth of July I see those flags—or that the Stars and Stripes has any meaning, if it still does.

When people wished me “Happy Fourth,” I felt almost sick—and not because it’s my birthday and I’m another year older.  Rather, I am scared because of the Supreme Court’s ruling on Monday.  It says that the President cannot be held criminally accountable for “official” acts while in office.

Photo by Craig Hudson for the Washington Post 

So what constitutes an “official” act? Is it anything the President says it is? 

Some—including Justice Sonia Sotomayor in her dissent—have pointed out that Trump, if elected, could actually carry out his boast/threat to send Navy Seal Team 6 to assassinate his political rivals. He could, therefore, foment violence that would make January 6, 2021 look like a summer fair.

I have two very personal reasons to fear Trump becoming, in essence, Louis XIV. During his reign, haters of all kinds were emboldened to carry out their hatred on anyone they see as a “threat,” including transgender people. The violence has continued and probably intensify as Trump and his allies repeal laws and policies that aim to bring about equality—and pass new legislation to make life more difficult, even impossible, for us.

Oh, and don’t forget that he hates bicycles and cyclists. Would he target us directly or use fossil fuel companies by giving them tax breaks and allowing “eminent domain” so they could tear up bike lanes and other infrastructure to, say, build more pipelines?

I hope that I won’t have to feel so anxious next Fourth. In other words, I am hoping this country is still the country I was taught to believe it is—if indeed it still is, or ever was, that country.

Bicycles And Sundown: History In An Ohio Town

Some cities are, or were, synonymous with certain industries.  The best-known examples in the US are automobile manufacturing in Detroit and steel-making in Pittsburgh. 

Some smaller cities and towns are linked to a particular company or another.  The Hartford insurance company comes to mind:  It's been a part of the Connecticut state capital that shares its name for over 200 years. 

Believe it or not, even during the "Dark Ages" of US cycling, a town in Ohio was best known for the bicycle company that bore its name.

I am talking about Shelby, a community about 150 kilometers southwest of Cleveland.  From 1925 to 1953, the Shelby Bicycle company fabricated its wares in the heart of town.  

Like most American bikes of that period, most Shelbys  were baloon-tired "cruisers".  Although the majority of  Shelby bikes  bore the names of retailers such as Montgomery-Ward, Spiegel, Firestone and Goodyear, and some were sold by AMF, a number of Shelbys were sold under their own name.  And, while Shelby made "theme" bikes--such as a "Lindy" bike honoring Charles Lindbergh and Donald Duck bikes--some were very stylish, even elegant.  Those bikes are prized by collectors.  

Now some folks in the town have formed a society dedicated to Shelby bicycles.  The Shelby Bicycle Historical Society, recently approved as an IRS 501(3)c tax-exempt organization, is looking for members. You don't have to own a Shelby in order to join; you need only to be interested in the bikes or the town's history. It's not there only to celebrate the company's "Whippet" bike Clarence Wagner rode to a cross-country record in 1927; it also exists to commemorate what was once a significant part of the town's economy and history.

There is another part of the town's history that nobody is trying to commemorate.  It was said to be a "sundown" town; according to some former residents, it even had a sign at its border telling black people they had better be out of town when the sun set.  Even after the sign was taken down, some people ran black folks out of town; others wondered aloud whether an African exchange student should be allowed to swim in the local pool.

(Levittown, on Long Island, is only 55 kilometers from my apartment. It, too, was a "sundown" town.  So was nearby Roosevelt--which, ironically, is now almost entirely nonwhite as a result of "blockbusting".)

While I hope that the good folks of Shelby (and America) will face up to their (and our) racist history, I am happy that they are commemorating something that, while it doesn't make up for that history (what can?), is at least an interesting and sometimes even delightful part of the cycling landscape.

Performance: The End Of An Era?

When I first became a dedicated cyclist, as a teenager, I discovered the mail-order catalogues.  They had all sorts of exotic bikes and parts, most of which I couldn't afford and weren't found in the local bike shops.  I pored over those catalogues the way other kids devoured comic books or teen magazines--or the way some young person in a remote village might indulge him or her self in magazines filled with images of the latest fashions from New York or Paris.

Before the '70's Bike Boom, there was Gene Porteusi's Cyclopedia, that printed cornucopia of, seemingly, all things bike-related.  He was one of the old-timers who kept the flame flickering during the Dark Ages of cycling in the US.  

Somehow I don't think much of anything changed in his catalogues during their history.  For most of his career, he was dealing with a small audience--few American adults were cycling during the quarter-century or so after World War II--and a limited selection of goods.  Actually, in the later years of Cyclopedia's run, he limited his selection:  He didn't offer any Japanese parts, not even a SunTour derailleur, even after people started to choose them for custom-built frames.

For making those wonderful V-series and Cyclone derailleurs, and other great stuff from the Land of the Rising Sun, widely available, much of the credit goes to the mail-order companies that launched in the wake of the Bike Boom.  I am thinking now of Bike Warehouse, which later became Bike Nashbar; Bikecology, renamed Supergo; and, possibly the 800-pound gorilla among them:  Performance Bike.

Well, it looks like Nashbar is the last catalogue standing.  Well, not exactly:  Nashbar still exists, but I reckon that hardly anybody shops from its catalogue anymore. For all I know, they might not even have a printed catalogue these days:  I'd guess that, save for their outlet store, all of their sales are on the web.

And the web, ironically, is one of the things that destroyed the other two.  Actually, Performance took over Supergo.  But now it looks like Performance is nigh:  Its parent company filed for bankruptcy protection last fall, and all of its retail stores will close next month.  In addition, over 100 staff members have been laid off at Performance's Chapel Hill, North Carolina headquarters.

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Although you could buy stuff from Performance's website, it never seemed to generate business in the same way that other retailers' websites did for them.  Plus, the web made it easier to order from overseas retailers when they offered better prices or the exchange rate was favorable. As an example, during the past few years, it's often been cheaper to buy Shimano components--Performance's bread-and-butter, if you will--from UK retailers like Ribble or Chain Reaction because, in addition to the favorable exchange rates, US customers benefited from not having to pay the value-added tax (VAT) levied on purchases made by native or European Union customers.

The coup de grace for Performance, though, might have been tariffs the Trump administration imposed last year on bikes, e-bikes and products related to them.  An already-reeling Performance was hit with higher overhead costs and, from what I've read, had no choice but to raise prices.  That, of course, would drive away an already-dwindling customer base that was attracted mainly by the company's low prices.

So, for better or worse, we may be witnessing the end of an era: the one of the mail-order catalogue, in the bicycle industry as well as in other businesses.   

The ‘Bike Man’ in Washington

 Earl Blumenauer has done, possibly, more than any other politician to encourage cycling in the United States. Representing a district around Portland, Oregon (where else?) since 1996, he is responsible for, among other things, the bike lane on Pennsylvania Avenue—the location of the White House.

His wins include gaining tax benefits for bicycles commuters. On the other hand, a bill that would have provided subsidies for eBikes was yanked from the Inflation Reduction Act at the last minute.

In his interview with David Zipper, Blumenauer revealed that the loss (which he regards as temporary)of the eBike subsidies was a result of lobbyists.  

What we in the cycling community often forget is that the largest companies in the bicycle industry are minnows next to the whales and sharks of other industries.  Some of those corporations, particularly in the energy, automotive and tech industries, provide financial and other support to alternative-energy sources and electric cars.  Of course those corporations are acting in self-interest or, more precisely, their stockholders’ demands.  

Perhaps they see the current boom in bikes and eBikes in the same way as the ‘70’s Bike Boom.  But, as Blumenauer points out that “Boom” was really just a fad that petered out in part because no meaningful policies came from it.

Perhaps one day soon investors in alternative energy and electric cars will see that those enterprises are related to bicycles and eBikes—and Representative Blumenauer will once again be vindicated.

A Ride Through History

 One of my passions—obsessions, perhaps—is learning the history, especially African-American and colonial, I wasn’t taught in school.

I got to thinking about that when I realized that next month is African American history month—and the sixtieth anniversary of at least two important parts of that history are coming up.

One of them is the marches from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama. The other is the assassination of Malcolm X.

About Malcolm:  He was completely misrepresented, if he was mentioned at all.  I first realized as much when I read his autobiography. (That, I believe, motivated me to learn as much as I can about the history I wasn’t taught.) It seems that educators—and the culture generally—has misunderstood and misused “by any means necessary” to paint Malcolm as a maniac with homicide in his heart. He was changing even as he told his story to Alex Haley, his collaborator on his autobiography and, I believe, would have repudiated some of the things he said then—let alone in his earlier speeches—had he lived longer. But even the portrait that emerged from his autobiography and his speeches made him heroic to me because one of his underlying messages was that people have to free themselves from whatever enslaves them, whether it’s an exploitative system, an addictive substance or William Blake’s “mind forg’d manacles.”

Speaking of enslavement:  The March from Selma to Montgomery occurred just a few weeks before the 100th anniversary of the American Civil War’s end. (Anyone who tells you that the war wasn’t about slavery is ignorant or dishonest.) But a century later, Blacks—and poor Whites—weren’t free of their shackles.  Moreover, they were paying a tax, if you will, on those restraints they bore. But they we’re fighting—and often paying with blood and flesh—to fight them, and their imposers, off. That is about as far from the picture of the Civil Rights movement textbooks and the media painted for us: a sunny diorama of Martin intoning “I have a dream” and well-intentioned people chanting “We shall overcome,” all of it sepia-tinged to make White liberals of the time look heroic and those of today feel good about themselves for admiring them.

All right, I’ll get off my soapbox. (Standing on it while wearing cleats is precarious!) There will be a number of commemorations, including a marches. And, the other day, a bike ride followed the route.

Just A Banana Peel Away...

Today is Presidents' Day in the US.

In past years, I've shown pictures of our leaders on bikes. Two years ago, I wrote about the origins of Presidents' Day automobile sales in the Washington's Birthday bicycle sales late in the 19th century.

Today I'm going to talk about one of the most maligned Presidents of our history.

To be fair, Gerald Ford ascended to the office under difficult circumstances:  His predecessor, Richard Nixon, had resigned because he was on the brink of impeachment.  

People might've cut Ford some slack had they elected him as Vice President.  The problem was, Ford became Nixon's second-in-command when his predecessor, Spiro Agnew, resigned his office as part of a deal to keep himself out of prison for, among other things, tax evasion.

Thus did Ford become the first unelected President in US history.  Some people felt resentful of this, which alone would have been enough to sully his reputation. Fair or not, it's not the only reason why, whether professional historians or laypeople are polled, he ranks low among Presidents.  

Aside from the way he came into the office, another thing some people hold against him was his pardoning of Nixon.  But, whatever people think of that, or any of his other actions, the only other thing people seem to remember about him is his clumsiness.  According to a popular joke of the time, Nelson Rockefeller, his vice-president, was just a banana peel away from the presidency.

From what I understand, though, "Gerry" wasn't always so cllumsy.  After all, he was an athlete in his youth.  And he managed to look pretty good on a bike:

Gerald Ford, surrounded by his cousins in front of his childhood home in Grand Rapids, Michigan

Buying A Tire at Wal-Mart

I promise:  This won't be merely a rant against a corporate monolith.  However, I am warning you that this post will contain one.  So proceed at your own peril.

Yesterday, as I mentioned, I got a flat.  Since Mom and Dad don't ride, and the bike was borrowed, there was no spare tire or tube in the house.  So Dad took me to Wal-Mart, which was the only store open, to get them.

I bought a mountain bike tire and two tubes.  The total cost, with tax, was $25.88.  That doesn't sound bad, except that I know that I could have gotten something of better quality online, or even from my local bike shops, for less money.  And these tires and tubes were the only ones offered in the store.

The tire and tubes were from Bell, which seems to have become a generic brand of bike parts and accessories without being, or admitting to being, generic.  I've used Bell helmets, which were fine. But I see, at best, a tenuous connection between whoever is making the tires and tubes and whoever is making the helmets. 

So, it seems, Wal-Mart is now taking advantage of the apparent lack of competition in the area by offering a limited selection and inferior quality at whatever prices they can get away with charging.  

And don't get me started on the way the company treats its employees.  That they were working on a holiday, for minimum wage,  was bad enough.  But the workers--even the young floor manager--didn't seem very healthy.  And the cashier--one of those wonderful Southern women of a certain age who calls everyone "hon" and "darlin'"--was missing nearly all of her teeth.

She probably couldn't have afforded the tires and tubes I'd just bought.

Pas de Randonnee

Today's only the first day of winter, at least officially. And I already have a case of the midwinter blues.

This year, we've had colder and windier weather earlier in the season than in any recent year, at least as I recall. But that doesn't usually affect my mood.  It is nearing the end of the semester and, as I told my brother, this time is for college instructors as tax season is to accountants. That means some sleepless nights and little time for anything besides work.

So, naturally, I haven't had much time to ride.  In times past, that's really gotten me down.  Tammy and Eva both used to say that they could tell I'd gone too long (for me, at least) without riding when I got annoyed with everything they said and did.  Of course, I annoyed pretty easily in those days anyway, and perhaps I still do.  But there was no denying that a lack of time in the saddle led to all sorts of moodiness.

In recent years, I've had two fairly lengthy spells without cycling.  One, of course, followed my surgery.  The other came during my first year of living as Justine.

The obvious answer is that I had so wanted to undergo my transition and surgery that I was willing to give up, at least for a time, cycling.  Actually, I didn't stop riding altogether during that first year: I simply did much less, mostly because of circumstance but somewhat out of choice.   I was, for the first time in a very long time, turning into a social creature and was mostly enjoying it.  As it happened, the people around whom I was spending a lot of time weren't cyclists.   And I made no effort to "convert" them.

For about four months after my surgery, I simply couldn't ride.  In the beginning, I couldn't have even lifted any of my bikes, or much of anything weighing more than a  couple of books in a bookbag or knapsack.  Before the surgery, I knew that my recovery would be spent off the bike.  So, I guess, I was menatally ready for it.  

You might also say that my work at the college is an extenuating circumstance.  Indeed it is.  But in some weird way, even though the end of the semester is almost here, it still seems even further away than getting on my bike again seemed the day after my surgery.

I'm not the only one to get the no-biking blues.  Back in my racing days, a fellow racer told me he felt became really depressed when an injury kept him off his bike for a few months.  At one point, the doctor told him that he would never ride again.  At that point, he said, he seriously thought about killing himself.

Recently I did a Google search and found that he's not only still alive; he's still racing in the senior category.  (He's about three or four years older than I am.)  And he's an independent businessman.

Dear Readers, do you get depressed when you can't ride for extended periods of time?  

Does The Bike Business Understand Economics?

 When I was an undergraduate, I knew a few business majors.  Some started off that way; others swtiched from fields ranging from biology to fine art because, well, they saw the starting salaries for folks with business degrees.  One thing I couldn't help but to notice was that the "B" majors--at least the ones I knew--hated Economics, which was a required course.  

I could understand:  As bad as I was at math, I was worse at economics.  Math by its nature is abstract, which is part of the reason I wished I could understand it better.  On the other hand, it seemed that economics was abstract because, well, it could be, if that was how economists wanted it.  Perhaps the business majors felt the same way.

After seeing those fellow students, it really came as no surprise, some years later, when some pundit--I forget whom--declared, "Most business people don't know a damned thing about economics, and most economists don't have a clue about business."  The first part of that statement, I think, could apply to six of the seven US Presidents who were businessmen before they ran for office.  (The exception, Harry Truman, failed at business but is generally regarded as a successful President, his decision to drop atom bombs on Japan notwithstanding.)  They showed the world that the United States (or any other nation, for that matter) can't be run as a business in part because it's an economy.  

One of those Presidents is, of course, Donald Trump. His tax cuts benefited people who didn't need them, and some would argue that they would have led to economic woes even if COVID-19 hadn't brought so much enterprise to a standstill.  

Another of Trump's economic policies that probably exacerbated the problems wrought by the pandemic were the tariffs he imposed.  He, like Herbert Hoover (one of the other businessmen who occupied the White House) passed them in the belief that making foreign goods more expensive would lead to more production in the US and "bring back American jobs."  That didn't happen in either case. Nearly every economist and historian now says that the import taxes passed under Hoover’s watch (known as the Smoot-Harley Tariffs) helped to tip the stock market crash of 1929 into a full-blown depression just as, I believe, Trump's tariffs will be see as an accelerant of the current economic crisis.

What Trump didn't seem to understand is that no matter what economic theories you follow, simply making steel from China or India more expensive isn't going to cause new mills to appear, or for shuttered plants to re-open or abandoned or demolished factories to be re-built in Pittsburgh or Youngstown or Gary or Lackawana--or anywhere else in this country.  Or, to put it in more technical terms, cutting off foreign supply does not lead to an increase in domestic capacity.

Photo by An Rong Xu, for the New York Times

I mention all of this because two leaders of the bike industry are showing that they are as ignorant of economics as Trump or Hoover.  At the Taipei Cycle Online Expo, Bob Margevicius said, "There's a gold mine today in the bike industry, but you have to invest." Component makers, according to Specialized Bicycles' Executive Vice-President, are "very reluctant to invest in additional capacity."

His belief was echoed by Ton Anbeek, the CEO of Accell Group, which owns, among other brands, Batavus, Koga, Lapierre and Raleigh.  Like Margevicius, he blamed the current shortage of bikes, parts and accessories on manufacturers' unwillingness to make more of them.  "To meet the growing demand in the coming years, we need component suppliers to invest in extra capacity to produce more critical components and parts," he urged.

While both of them are right, at least in one sense--that more products won't be available if more of them aren't made--they are missing a point:  Simply investing money isn't going to lead to more manufacturing capacity overnight, especially if new facilities need to be built.  Their exhortations will no more bring more bikes, helmets, tires or locks to bike shops or online retailers than Trump's tariffs will cause steel to be made in the US.  That might be the extent of my understanding of economics, but according to the old pundit, it's still more than what some businessmen seem to know!

Bike Lanes To Nowhere

Greenpoint Avenue, Brooklyn:  Bike Lane To Nowhere

There's a planner who's sure he knows what cyclists need
And he's building a bike lane to nowhere
What he's finished he knows, if the mayor needs their votes
With a word he can get a grant for one more 
Ooh, ooh and he's building a bike lane to nowhere.


If you're a Led Zeppelin fan, I hope you're not offended.  But after riding on yet another "bike lane to nowhere," I found myself intoning the phrase to the tune of "Stairway to Heaven."


If you've read some of my earlier posts, you probably know that I'm somewhere between skeptical and ambivalent about building bike lanes. If they're well-conceived and -constructed, they can be a boon to cyclists. Sometimes it really is nice to be able to ride without having to worry about traffic and such.


But that "if" is a big one.  Too often, I've ridden on bike lanes that seem to go from nowhere to nowhere or, worse, that begin or end abruptly.  


The latter is what one experiences when cycling along Greenpoint Avenue from Greenpoint, Brooklyn into Long Island City, Queens, as I frequently do.  Greenpoint Avenue is two lanes wide, with the bike lane on the side, in Brooklyn.  But at the bridge over Newtown Creek, which separates Brooklyn from Queens, the roadway widens to four lanes, with no shoulder and a narrow walkway on which cyclists aren't allowed to ride (although cyclists do it all the time).  


Worse still, on the Queens side of the bridge, the roadway crosses a very confusing intersection, which includes a street used mainly by trucks (It's mainly an industrial area) that approaches the intersection from behind.  Also, car and truck traffic exits a nearby expressway and turns from  Van Dam Street, into the point of the intersection a cyclist would approach when exiting the bridge.  But the traffic is approaching from the opposite direction.  


To me, it's a wonder that there haven't been more accidents in that intersection!


What's really disturbing, to me, is that it's probably not the worst-conceived lane I've ever ridden.  But since I ride in the area frequently, it's one of my biggest safety concerns.  


Perhaps just as bad as the poor conception and construction of bike lanes--and the biggest reasons for my ambivalence and skepticism--are the illusion of safety they give some cyclists and the misconceptions about safety they foster among non-cyclists.  A lane that's separated from traffic but abruptly leaves cyclists in intersections like the one I described puts them in even more danger than riding on the streets would.  This is one reason why John Forester (author of Effective Cycling, one of the best cycling books in English) has long argued that such lanes will ultimately hinder any efforts to get non-cyclists, planners and the rest of the public to see bicycles as transportation vehicles and not merely recreational toys. 


When such things are pointed out, non-cyclists don't understand why we're "ungrateful" that their tax dollars are spent on bike lanes.  And planners who don't understand what bike safety is continue to build bike lanes to nowhere.