02 February 2011

Ground Hogs and Safety In Numbers



Is there indeed safety in numbers?   That's what these guys seem to be saying.




Or does it mean that if you're alone, you need a basket?


Actually, the fact that I'm asking questions like that means I've spent too much time (or, at least, more time than I like) off my bike.


At the battle of the Somme, officers were heard to ask, Quand sera-ce fini?:  When will it end?  That's what almost everyone, even people who love the snow and ice are asking.   (Given the way the weather is further straining already-stretched budgets, it might be more pertinent to say, Nous sommes dans le pot de chambre, et nous y serons emmerdes.)


Looking at bicycle-related websites and shopping for things I might need for the upcoming season seems utterly incongruous.  Sometimes it feels as if I'm preparing for a day that might not come.  

Supposedly, there's only six more weeks of winter:  The groundhog didn't see his shadow.  Well, with the weather we've been having, there aren't many shadows of anybody or anything!



What if a group of groundhogs came up together?  Would they have been more or less likely to see their shadows?  Would they be safer?  Or, at least, would they  be less likely to get snowed in?



01 February 2011

Solitary In The Snow

For the past couple of weeks, the only people I've seen on bicycles were making deliveries for the local restaurants and diner.   Whenever I see a delivery man (Yes, they're all men.), he likely to be the only cyclist on the road at that moment.


I think now of my days as a messenger.  There were days when I was not only the only cyclist on the streets (at least for a few blocks around), I was sometimes the only person to be seen on the streets.  It didn't matter whether I was on or around Wall Street, or in one of the industrial areas that still existed, though as shadows of their former selves, in Manhattan.  


In those days, I was watching quite a few post-apocalypse movies, most of which I've forgotten.  (Frankly, I watched most of them high or drunk.)  That may have been the reason why the landscape seemed almost lunar, and I felt like some sort of pioneer or homesteader.  


Somehow the snow and ice made me, and the few other people who were outside, seem even more solitary, as if the scene were a photograph negative of a chiaroscuro portrait.




This photo was taken in Kalamazoo, Michigan yesterday.  But it could have been shot in just about any community of any size in the Northeast or Midwest during the past couple of weeks.  It feels as if these storms are making every cyclist seem solitary.


In a sense, we are.  

31 January 2011

What Can You Generate On Your Bicycle?

Hub generator?  Bottle generator?  An '80's bottom-bracket mount generator?

None of the above for me.  Nighttime cyclists in this city have the same goal as denizens of the club scene:  being seen. Here, flashing lights are more useful than steady-beam lights because most streets are relatively well-lit.  As far as I know, none of the generator lights made today has a flashing mode.  

But I can think of another kind of generator that might be useful here, at least in the summer.  Here it is, in action:


Now tell me:  You really want to use your bike to make ice cream.  Admit it!

Once you do that, there's no telling how many appliances you can power with your bicycle.  Hair dryers.  Laptops.  Juicers.  How about a sandwich press?  After all, what's better than a panini for a mid-ride snack?

Forget ethanol or solar, wind or nuclear power.  You just saw the real solution to the world's energy needs!