Electric Bikes

Not so long ago, if you ordered General Tso's Chicken, Curry Shrimp, a container of hot and sour soup and wontons for you and your loved one, it would be delivered on a beat-up mountain bike or a bike-boom era ten-speed.


That bike was, more than likely, rescued from trash that was set out by the curb.  Or it was purchased for a few dollars from any number of corners where thieves sold their booty.  (Pre-gentrification St. Mark's Place used to be the epicenter of this trade.)  


Now the men (All that I've seen are men) who deliver your favorite Chinese foods are likely to go to a showrooms to buy their delivery vehicles.  Most of those put-put palaces are out of the public's (and, ahem, law enforcement's) view, although a few operate openly.  The vehicles they buy now are shiny and new and those men have had to save their money for months--or borrow it--in order to buy one of these vehicles.


I'm talking, of course, about electric bikes.  The delivery men love them because they're faster (about 20mph) than most bikes and are almost as easy as bicycles to maneuver in traffic.  Best of all, from their standpoint, those "bikes" don't have to be pedaled.  And now when restaurants hire delivery personnel, they give preference to those who have those low-voltage velos. 


There are just two problems with this scenario.  First of all, electric bikes are illegal in this city.  But, as more than one police officer has admitted, the ban is not enforced because "we have more pressing issues."  There isn't any public demand to raid and close down the shops that sell electric bikes, as there is for, say, "drug dens" or houses of prostitution in residential neighborhoods.  


The second problem is that it's, quite frankly, all but impossible to penalize careless electric bike operators--ironically, because of their illegality.  Because those bikes are illegal, there is no licensing requirement for them.  So, most of their operators don't carry--or even have--driver's licenses.  In fact, one of the few operators who's been arrested--for getting into a fight with a pedestrian--admitted that he and many other delivery men don't read or write English well enough to pass the written part of the exam for a driver's license.  The lack of a license makes it more difficult to keep any kind of record of violations.


As a matter of fact, as that same operator admitted, some delivery men don't have documentation of any kind.  Now, I'm not a lawyer, but I feel pretty confident in saying that there's not much you can do with an undocumented scofflaw but to detain and deport him or her.  Most local law enforcement officials don't want to get involved with the latter (which would involve dealing with Federal agencies, which nearly all of them are loath to do), and feel there are more pressing needs for their jail space.


To be fair to delivery people, though, they are simply people who are trying to make a living the best way they know how.  Worse than them are some of the teenagers I sometimes see riding electric bikes on bike/pedestrian lanes, especially the ones that line the bridges.  The bridge lanes are almost invariably narrow and shared with runners, people pushing baby strollers and such. You know how young people (especially men) who just got their drivers' licences drive their cars. Well, they operate motor bikes with even more reckless abandon.  I am not the only cyclist who has been grazed (or nearly so) by one of them, and I am not the only female cyclist who has had to deal with a young man on an electric bike riding as close as he can, then taking off.


Since banning electric bikes has done nothing to keep them off the streets and paths, I think they should be legalized--and that anyone who wants to use one should be required to get a permit.  To get that permit, of course, they would have to take safety classes.  And, I think, electric bikes need to be governed by a different set of regulations from those for bicycles, motorcycles or automobiles.  Perhaps there could be a "points" system, as there is for automobiles, and anyone who accumulates too many would lose his permit--and his ability to get a license to drive a motorcycle, car or larger vehicle.

What do you think?  Have you seen many of these electric bikes in your community?  If so, what's your experience with them?  Do you think they should be regulated--or allowed at all?

The Meeting

The scholar and critic Cleanth Brooks probably did more than anyone else to champion a generation of Southern writers that included John Crowe Ransom, Allen Tate, Robert Penn Warren and, especially, William Faulkner.


In spite of their correspondence, which spanned more than half a century,Brooks and Faulkner supposedly met only once.  That meeting lasted several hours.  It is said that they did not talk about literature, or even anything else related to the arts, culture or history.  Instead, being true Southern men of their generation, they talked about fishing and 'coon hunting.


So why, you're probably asking yourself, am I mentioning these things on this blog?


Well, I found myself thinking about the story of the Brooks/Faulkner "summit" after meeting "Velouria", the author of the Lovely Bicycle! blog, during the weekend of the New Amsterdam Bike Show.


I discovered her blog--which, at the time, had been running for a few months--when I was recuperating from my surgery nearly three years ago.  I left comments on some of her posts.  An exchange of e-mails ensued and, within a year, with her encouragement, I started this blog.  (Now you know who to blame!;-))


Most of the e-mails we exchanged, interestingly enough, had little or nothing to do with cycling.  Although her upbringing, and much of her early adult life, could hardly have been more different from mine (or so it seemed), we both have had unusual (in different ways) circumstances that, I believe, have led us to see many things in ways that are very different from that of most of our peers. 


When she came to New York, we rode, albeit briefly.  And, of course, she was here for the show.  So it was natural that we talked, at least a little, about bikes and bicycling.  However, I would not say that it dominated the weekend.  Over dinner at Uncle George's and over coffee, we talked about, it seemed, everything but bikes.  I won't get into specifics, but I will say that I found the discussions stimulating because she seems able to get past the hyperbole and cant that too often passes for informed opinion, even among so-called intellectuals.  (Trust me:  I have lots of experience with them!)


You might say that my meeting with Velouria was an inverse of the one between Brooks and Faulkner:  Two men who knew each other via intellectual circles talked about sport, while two women who met via sport talked about culture--both the upper- and lower- case "C" varieties.

WE Bike And Me

What's gotten into me? 

I mean, what's this with me and volunteering?

It's not as if I haven't volunteered before.  But within the past two weeks, I've begun volunteering with two cycling organizations.  And--quelle coincidence--it turns out that they're going to be working with each other.

I've mentioned my recent experiences with Recycle-A-Bicycle.  I intend to continue working with them as my schedule allows.  It looks like I'll be doing the same--and perhaps more--with a new organization called WE Bike.

I learned of them at the New Amsterdam Bicycle Show, where they had a booth.  Liz, a bike mechanic and youth educator who started the organization only a couple of months ago was at the booth.  And she was under the arches of Grand Army Plaza yesterday, where WE Bike was holding a repair workshop.  

She immediately recognized me.  I didn't think I was so memorable.  Even more interestingly, she mentioned my blog and my Mercians.  Hmm...It's not often that my reputation precedes me.  Is that a good thing?

Anyway, I got there a bit late.  But I went to work right away, showing a woman from the Caribbean island of Dominique how to fix a flat.  She had just purchased her first bicycle, not long after learning how to ride a bicycle as an adult.  

Yesterday, I thought she was mastering what I believe to be the first thing every cyclist should learn to do.  But she apologized.  For what?, I asked.  Then I realized she was doing something I've seen many other women do--and which I've caught myself doing since I started to live as a woman:  apologizing for no particular reason.

"You are officially in a guilt-free zone," I declared. "This circle around me"--I stretched my arms--"is off-limits for gratuitous guilt."  At first, she didn't know what to make of what I said--or, I imagine, me. But then she giggled.  "Don't worry," I said, "You'll be fine."

I was thinking about her as Liz and I talked after the workshop.  We agreed that getting more women to ride, with other women, and learning how to fix their bikes from other women, could help some--especially the young--build their confidence.  Plus, I added, it would help them become more independent. 

Then I thought about my own experiences of working in bike shops.  I don't recall seeing a female mechanic and, in those days, it seemed a lot of shops--including two in which I worked--had a "shop girl" who usually was a salesperson/cashier/hostess/Gal Friday. (I hope I don't seem sexist in using those terms:  I can't think of any others that would accurately describe those roles.)  In other shops--including one in which I worked-- such jobs, along with record-keeping and such, were done by the proprietor's wife.

In recounting those experiences for Liz, I fancied myself, for a moment, as a kind of Prometheus.  Please indulge me if it seems a bit grandiose, but I realized that when I was showing two women how to remove bottom brackets and headsets, and how to true wheels, at Recycle-A-Bicycle, I was passing along knowledge that, in my day, was possessed almost entirely by males.  And I probably wouldn't have learned those skills had I not spent the first four decades of my life as a male.

Or, perhaps--here comes the baggage of my Catholic education!--I am doing penance for all of those times I was one of those awful men who spoke condescendingly to female customers and who was less than helpful with girlfriends who actually wanted to ride bikes with me.  If the work I am doing, and expect to do, is a penance, I suppose I'm lucky:  There are definitely worse and more painful kinds of atonement!

Anyway...I have a feeling that interesting times are ahead for me.

You Won't Find Wah Chu Need For This Bike Here

While riding to an event at Grand Army Plaza, I found something very interesting:

 This machine doesn't vend sandwiches, ice cream, soda, cupcakes or, ahem, a substance that are legal only in a few states, and only for medicinal purposes. It also doesn't vend fishing bait.   Believe it or not, I actually saw such a machine in Angouleme, France, when I took a bike tour from Paris to the sea at Bordeaux.


The machine in the photo vends bike parts.  At any rate, it offers the stuff people need most often:  inner tubes, small bottles of Tri-Flow and such.  It also offers the caps and T-shirts of the organization that operates it:  Time's Up.


It's located, appropriately enough, in Williamsburg, literally in the shadow of the eponymous bridge.  Next to it is a "receptionist".

In case  you're not from Brooklyn, "'Chu Need" translates as "What do you need?"  I grew up with people who asked me "Wachoo need?"  I guess "'Chu need?" is a contraction of that.


I'd love for someone to teach that in an ESL class!


Now, if what chu need is a part for this bike, you're SOL:

I saw this cute Astra mixte--which, I would guess, is from the 1960's or early 1970's, at a sidewalk sale in Park Slope, just doors from where I used to live.  The shape of the twin laterals is beyond cute:

Here's how it looks at the bottom:

Time's Up's (Strange locution, isn't it?) machine might have an inner tube that fits, but not much else you could use on this bike.  So, if you're restoring this at three in the morning, you're SOL.  To be fair, you'd be in the same situation if you were restoring a 1972 Peugeot PX10 and needed a chainring or a 1969 Cinelli and needed a spring for your Campagnolo Record derailleur.


For the record:  I didn't buy the bike, or anything from the machine.  On the other hand, I did buy some tasty things--including foccacia and sourdough bread--from a Farmer's Market.  Also, I had what is probably the best ice pop I've ever had, from People's Pops, which are made from locally-grown fruits.  I had the plum and sour cherry pop; other options offered were blueberry with herbs and strawberry rhubarb.

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.