Social Bike Share

Sometimes old-time New Yorkers will refer to the "BMT", "IRT" and "IND".  I still do, sometimes.

They were (and, for some purposes, still are) the three branches of the New York City subway system.  The lines designated by numbers constitute the IRT, while those marked by letters A through H are part of the IND and the remaining letters mark BMT routes.

These divisions came about because of the way in which the system developed.  The first line--which followed the route of today's #1 train from 137th Street to Times Square, cut across Manhattan under 42nd Street (along the path of the current Times Square Shuttle) and continued along the path of today's #4 and 5 trains to the Battery--was built by the Interborough Rapid Transit Company, financed by J.P. Morgan.  After other IRT lines were built, another financier (and philanthropist), Jacob Schiff, stepped into the fray and built new lines that became part of his Brooklyn-Manhattan Transit network.  

Later still,  the city began another network--called, ironically enough, the Independent system--to serve areas the IRT and BMT hadn't reached.  Finally, the city took over those two companies and unified the system.

I give you this brief history of the subway system because a similar system may be unfolding with the city's bike share program. Currently, it's run by Citibank (hence the name Citibike).  Currently, it serves a small (geographically) part of the city:  Manhattan south of 59th Street and the Brooklyn neighborhoods closest to that part of Manhattan.  While they are the most densely populated parts of the city, and the areas most visited by tourists and business people, they are more than a 45-minute ride (the current Citibike limit) from most other parts of the city.  Moreover, some parts of Queens like Astoria (where I live) are also commonly visited and full of cyclist--and are even closer than any part of Brooklyn to Manhattan.

Now it looks like another company wants to bring a bikeshare program to parts of the city that don't have it.  Social Bicycle is a three-year-old startup begun by a former city Department of Transportation official. It aims to bring bikeshares to other parts of the city, beginning with Harlem.  

Social Bicycle designer Nick Foley with one of his company's machines.  From the New York Daily News.

But Social won't be Citibike with a different color (green, vs. Citibike's blue).  Social designer Nick Foley has designed a "smart bike" which differs from Citibikes. A user punches in a code to unlock the wheels.  Even more important, though, Social Bikes don't require kiosks, the placement of which has angered residents and business owners who believe Citibike is taking away their parking spaces.

Not surprisingly, Citibike--which currently has a monopoly on the city's bike share program--doesn't like Social.  Apart from the simplicity of Social's system, the threat to Citibike is that Social--which already rents thousands of their bikes in other cities-- is ready to bring their bikes to unserved neighborhoods.  Meanwhile, Citibike says that they are not expanding into Queens, or even Harlem, any time soon.

In Autumnal Mists

If you read some of my earlier posts, you might recall that I actually enjoy riding in fog.

That's kind of ironic when you consider one of my rules about riding in the rain:  I won't do it if the precip is falling so densely that I can't see more than two bike lengths ahead of me.  Somehow, though, it's easier (for me, anyway) to navigate--and pedal--through even the densest fogs.  Hey, I've actually ridden through clouds, when ascending and descending mountains in Vermont and the French Alps.  Compared to that, navigating a mist is easy.

Perhaps my enjoyment of riding under such conditions has to do with the structure of my eyes:  After all, I love riding (or walking or just about anything else) in the diffuse light of places like Paris, Copenhagen and Prague, and of overcast days at nearly any seashore.

Perhaps the best thing about such light and mist is the way it brings out autumnal hues:

From Favim

 
What is it about bikes that they are (to my eyes, anyway) best photographed in the fall?

Weird Handlebars

I can honestly say that I've ridden more bikes than most people will ever try.  I've mounted steel, carbon, titanium and aluminum bikes--and, yes, one made of wood.  Most of the bikes I've owned are/were high-quality steel ones; the others were aluminum.  That said, the only material besides steel (preferably Reynolds, but Columbus, Ishiwata, Vitus and Tange are also fine) I'd consider for one of my "good" bikes--let alone a custom build--is titanium.

For all of the bikes I've ridden, I must say I now realize that the range of handlebar styles I've ridden is fairly narrow. I never rode or owned "ape hanger" or "trekker" bars, and I've had only limited experience with aero or "bullhorn" bars.

I've also never ridden bars like the ones Chris Kulczyki posted on his Velo Orange blog the other day:

I love Chris and VO.  In fact, I use several VO products. But, for all of his love for traditional randonneur bikes made by constructeurs, I always suspected he had a secret liking of the bizarre.  After all, he and I are about the same age and can recall when being an adult cyclist--let alone one with the sort of tastes we share, at least to some degree--made us minorities, perhaps even geeks.  

When I use the later term, I don't mean to be derogatory in any way.  I mean simply someone who cares deeply about something that's not considered part of the mainstream.  Being transgendered makes me one almost by definition.  So does my love of poetry and interest in foreign films. So, some would argue, does the fact that I have been part of the academic world.

Anyway, seeing Chris' latest post got me to type "weird handlebars" in Google.  Some of the results are, not surprisingly, interesting and bizarre, even entertaining.