Commuting Among The Ruins

Today I commuted along the route that includes the promenade along the World's Fair Marina.  I went there, in part, to see the condition of the path.  It was surprisingly good.

However, the shore it skirts didn't fare quite so well.

Nor did the Marina.

Still, I was able to commute with Vera.  In short, I could still ride my bike.  There are some things for which I am grateful.

Who Rides The Lanes?

Whatever their flaws, dedicated bike lanes seem to increase the number of cyclists, particularly commuters and utility cyclists.  At least, that's what I'd conclude from my own observations, however representative they may or may not be.

I, along with WE Bike, are going to do some research on the topic.  We'd like to know not only whether (and, if so, by how much) the number of cyclists increases after bike laned are constructed or set aside.  Also, if the number does indeed increase, we'd be curious to know what types of cyclists are increasing in number.  Are they mainly commuters, recreational cyclists or some other kinds of riders?  Also--as you might expect from WE Bike--we'd like to know whether the number of female cyclists increases as a result of lanes opening.  

From Cyclr

Why does that last question matter?  Well, even though the number of female cyclists has certainly increased, the vast majority of pedalers one sees, at least in this city, are male.  Are there actual or perceived barriers to cycling for women (and girls) that are, at least partially, eliminated when lanes are opened?

Going To The Gym

Although there was a time--in my days as Nick--when I was lifting weights and doing other kinds of training in addition to my cycling, I don't think I ever became a "gym rat."  In fact, I have not spent much time in gyms since I was in college.  The atmosphere in most is oppressive, albeit in different ways:  Some gyms are simply physically depressing, others were little more than glorified singles bars and still others--the ones used mainly by young men--were just terrifying to me.  

In other words, I never felt the safety or solitude that I have on my bike.  Riding a stationary bike in a gym never had the same appeal for me that the open road or trail has.

I guess other people feel something like I feel.  That might be the reason why someone invented this:

From The Bicycle Forest

I guess the inventor of this figured that if one couldn't bring a bike into the gym, one could instead bring the gym to the bike!

Real Good Fall Twilight

It seems--at least in this part of the world--that the colors of October are celebrated more than those of any other month.

Reverence for the hues of that month are certainly just.  However, some of what I saw on today's ride left me absolutely stunned.

I saw this on the wooden bridge in the Randall's Island nature preserve:

Oh, but the visual feast didn't end there.  Barretto Point Park was closed, probably because of flood damage and weakened trees that might fall at any given moment.  However,through the fence, I saw this:

and this:

I know that the hues of autumn sunsets are particularly rich.  But lately it seems the skies are outdoing themselves.  I wonder whether it has anything to do with the recent storms.

My ride today was short.  But the name of this park, about three miles from my place, says it all:

This piece of real estate is in Rego Park, a Queens neighborhood that is currently home to thousands of emigres--many of whom are Jewish-- from Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Russia.  It gets its name from the Real Good Construction company, which developed most of the neighborhood in the early 20th Century.

If you are visiting the neighborhood for the first time and it seems familiar, you've probably read Art Spiegelman's graphic novel Maus.  The scenes with his aged Polish Jewish father are all set in the neighborhood, where Spiegelman grew up.

Anyway, as you can probably tell, today's ride was short but Real Good.

Bowery Boys Bike

People don't usually associate the hustle and bustle of New York City with the past, much less with history.  However, the only major American cities that have as much to offer history buffs are Boston and Philadelphia.

It makes sense: After all, New York, Boston and Philadelphia are among the oldest major cities in the United States.  Also, in part because of its size and location. all sorts of people have found their way here.  As a result, all sorts of interesting events have happened here.

So it probably wouldn't surprise you to know that one of my favorite non-bike blogs, The Bowery Boys, is devoted to the history of this metropolis.  

Today's post features a podcast about a nearly two centuries of bicycles and bicycling in The Big Apple.  Human-powered two-wheeled vehicles have played some rather surprising roles in some of this city's happenings, and some people you wouldn't expect to be involeved with them, are and were.

Sometimes the younger generation doesn't believe me when I tell them that there was a time when messengers and others who rode fixed-gear bikes weren't hipsters.  In case you don't believe me, I'll give you this image from The Bowery Boys:

You have to admit, though, he is stylish.  

Vera Helps Sandy's Victims

OK, so I didn't load Vera like this:

From Uphaa

But I did carry a good bit more than I usually take on my daily commutes.  I took a cell phone photo and accidentally deleted it!

I carried an old Compaq computer, which I strapped to my new Civia Mission rack.  On top of that, I strapped a yoga-type bag filled with half a dozen cans of tuna, two boxes of pasta, a box of raisins and some gloves, scarves, skull and watch caps and head bands.

And I attached one of my Carradice Barley bags to my saddle.  I didn't strap the bottom to the seat post. Rather, I let the bag rest horizontally on top of the stuff I'd lashed to the rack.

And, on the front, I carried a small parcel, which I'd intended to mail on the way but didn't until after my last class had ended.

So why did I carry so much?  At the college where I work, there's been a collection for victims of Superstorm Sandy.  In such emergencies, non-perishable foods are always in demand.  And, when the weather turns colder, people need warm clothes and accessories.

Finally, someone had put out a call for older laptop computers for students who'd been affected by the storm.  The tech support people at the college are going to update them with contemporary operating systems.  

I know, I could have taken the train or bus.  But I wanted to ride my bike, well, just because I could.  It's nice to know that Vera can handle it so well.

If It's A Low Trail Bike You Want....

Yesterday, "Velouria" , the author of Lovely Bicycle! posted about a possible trend-in-the-making for low-trail bikes.

Briefly, trail is the distance between the point where the "rubber meets the road" and the point at which the steering axis intercepts the ground.  Racing bikes usually have more trail than touring or randonneuring bikes; that's why their steering is more sensitive.  On the other hand, tourists and randonneurs have traditionally preferred the stability a shorter-trail bike offers, especially if they are carrying loads on the front.

I suppose that if I did loaded touring or randonneuring regularly, or if I hadn't spent so much time riding road bikes, I'd prefer a lower-trail design.  That said, I won't try to dissuade anyone who actually prefers the ride of a low-trail bike and doesn't want it merely as the latest fashion accessory on which to hang a $200 front rack that will, as "Ground Round Jim" caustically comments, never carry anything more than a vegan croisssant. 

Now if you really want low trail, take a look at this:

From Izismile

Henry Miller's Best Friend

In an earlier post, I mused about the relative lack of serious literature about bicycles, bicycling and cyclists.  

What's puzzling is that such a void exists even with the number of well-known writers of the past 120 years or so who were cyclists.

Among them is Henry Miller:

From "The Daily Bike" in Adventure Journal

In My Bike And Other Friends, he wrote, "After a time, habituated to so many hours a day on my bike, I became less and less interested in my friends.  My wheel had now become my one and only friend.  I could rely on it, which is more than I could say about my buddies.  It's too bad no one ever photographed me with my friend.  I would give anything now to know what we looked like."

A Brief Post-Storm Ride

I'm still not feeling that great today.  But I did have the day off from classes, so I rested.  When I got tired of that, I took a late bike ride.

Along the way, in Ozone Park, I made this interesting find:

I'm trying to find more information about the rather attractive but otherwise unremarkable building:

At least it seems to have weathered Superstorm Sandy and last week's Nor'easter.  The same cannot be said for a house I saw about three miles down the road:

Like many houses in Howard Beach and Lindenwood, it incurred more damage on the inside than out.  The exteriors of most of those houses didn't seem much changed by the wind and rain; it probably would've been difficult to tell that a storm had passed were it not for the bags and piles of debris in front of them.

For once, I wouldn't have complained if someone were blocking the bike lane!  I was grateful, though, that no one was.

At least I didn't have to contend with anything like this:

Even if the tree were still sounding, the scene would have looked foreboding.  Lately, the overcast skies, which I often welcome, seem that way.

Jamaica Bay and the ocean are just beyond those bare trees and reeds.

Buffalo Soldier Cyclists

Today is the real Veterans' Day, a.k.a. Armistice Day.

So, I thought it would be interesting to mention an aspect of American military history I recently stumbled over.

You may have seen the 2001 film Buffalo Soldiers or read the Robert O'Connor novel on which it is based.  You've probably heard the excellent Bob Marley song by the same name.  And you may know that they were the first peacetime regiments consisting of African-Americans.  The 9th, 10th, 24th and 25th Cavalry Regiments were officially called The Negro Cavalry but have been better-known by their nickname.

What you may not know is that in 1896, the 25th Regiment--stationed in Missoula, Montana--set out on several cross-country rides across some of the most rugged topography in the Americas.  The purpose of those rides was to test the viability of bicycles as alternatives to horses for transportation.   General Nelson A. Miles had been advocating for bicycle courier units in the Army because bikes had several advantages over our bovine friends:  they are less expensive to keep, smaller and quieter.  Also, they don't get sick, tired or thirsty.  (That last consideration would be very important in the arid areas of the western US.)  

In their first outing--a 126-mile trip to Lake McDonald and back--each man rode a bicycle that, when loaded down, weighed 76 pounds.  The roads were unpaved; in the rain,they turned to mud.  After crossing Mission Creek, they had to re-cement their tires to the wooden rims (!). 

In spite of breakdowns and delays, the mission was declared a success, and a longer ride followed.  On that trek, the soldiers covered 790 miles in 16 days and visited Yellowstone Park.  

Bicycle Corps and Minerva Terrace, Yellowstone National Park, 1897.  Photo by Frank Jay Haynes.



The following year, they took a 1900-mile journey to St. Louis and back.  (In those days, on a journey from the East to West Coasts, St. Louis would be the last major city one would encounter before reaching San Francisco.)  In 34 days of riding, the soldiers averaged 56 miles per day.  That was much more ground than could be covered on horseback, and at an average speed of 6.3 miles per hour.  A report written at the end of the trip concluded, "The practical result of the trip shows that an Army Bicycle Corps can travel twice as fast as cavalry or infantry under any conditions, and at one third the cost and effort."

After that experiment, bicycle regiments became a regular feature of the military in many countries until 2001, when Switzerland disbanded its 110-year-old bicycle brigade.

Apart from how inherently fascinating the story of the Buffalo Soldier cyclists is as history, I find two other aspects of it interesting.  First of all, these African-American soldiers were showing the effectiveness of the bicycle at around the same time Major Taylor, the greatest bicycle racer of that era, became the first African-American athlete to win a world championship in any sport. (Canadian boxer George Dixon was the first black man to accomplish such a feat.)  Second, I find it both interesting and disturbing that an African-American regiment was chosen for what was one of the most arduous and dangerous experiments of that time.  

But, in the eyes of both military officials and civilians, the bicycle showed that it was able and ready for a changing world.  African-Americans were as well, but it would take decades for most other Americans to see them that way.