Angels Across America

One thing I learned about myself early on is that cynicism comes easily, sometimes too easily, for me.  So I try to look for the things that give me realistic hopes about the world.  That's better than waiting for events like Roy No-Moore in Alabama to strike like a sugar rush that, ineveitably, leaves me feeling let-down after the initial euphoria dies down.

Well, today, I didn't have to look far to find good news.  You see, I decided to type "bicycle news" into a Google search bar to see what ideas I could come up for today's post.  And, wouldn't you know it, the first four entries under "news" were about people or programs that were giving bikes to needy kids for Christmas.

Burbank Bike Angels

I have written about such people and programs before.  But I am seeing now that there are even more than I realized, including the Burbank Bike Angels in the Los Angeles area, the Davenport (Iowa) Friendly House--which gives away bikes restored by inmates in the local jail.

Naiomia Jenkins receives a bike at the Davenport Friendly House

I want to make special mention of Ann Mathis in Fayetteville, North Carolina.  Yes, that town has something besides Fort Bragg, although it might be hard to know that sometimes.  (I know; I've been there.)  The people are great, but even in such an environment, someone like Ms. Mathis stands out.

Ann Mathis, with some of "her" kids.

As did her husband, Moses.  For 27 years, he ran an operation that restored bikes and, a few days before Christmas, allowed kids to choose them, without any adults present.  "Moses would turn over in his grave if I had the parents come in here and pick a bike," she explained.  "That is the truth."

She has been running the operation since Moses Mathis died in July of 2013.  When the kids pick a bike, they are given a gift bag to go along with it. Those bags include things like shoes, socks, hats and gloves, which nearly all of the children need, as well as "something educational," according to volunteer Ada Johnson.  Over the years, she estimates, they have given about 17,000 bags.

Another volunteer, Keith Melvin, has been restoring bikes for the past six years.  It isn't always easy, he says, "to make a new bike new" but "we get it done."  All they have to do, he said, is go into their storeroom and "find the parts."

They are part of a community of people who bring Christmas cheer to needy kids. They all are motivated by the delight kids express upon receiving their bikes, and they know that few things can make a kid happier at Christmastime than a new bike--even if that bike didn't come straight from the showroom!

Bike Share Over The Cuckoo's Nest?

I haven't been to Eugene, Oregon.  From what I hear, though, it's developing the sort of reputation Portland had maybe fifteen years ago:  a town of young artists, old and latter-day hippies as well as other free spirits.  And cyclists.

Someone I know described it as "Madison West."

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, the University of Oregon is there.  And, interestingly, several tech startups first saw the light of day there.  So did a certain company launched by a guy who paid a graduate student $35 for her design.

That graduate student was Carolyn Davidson. And the guy who bought her drawing was none other than Phil Knight, the founder of Nike.

Imagine that:  the designer of the Nike "Swoosh" was paid only $35. But, she says, it led to other things that made her quite a bit of money.

Oh, and the author of a certain book that became one of the texts, if you will, of the counterculture--and, later, a much-lauded film--spent much of his life in Eugene.  I am talking about Ken Kesey, who wrote One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.

So, I am not surprised, really, to find out that Eugene residents anticipate having something Madison has.  Austin, Texas--another town to which Eugene is increasingly compared--also has it.

I'm talking about a bike share program.  A local business owner is working on a plan for it.  Lindsey Harward's newly-formed company, Eugene Bike Share, will offer rides for a couple of dollars a day as well as yearly memberships.  Her current plan calls for 300 bicycles and 30 pick-up/drop-off locations.

While Eugene has only slightly fewer people than Salem, the capital and second-largest city of the Beaver State, it has only about a quarter of the population of the state's largest city, Portland.  So, while it might not be considered a "small" city, few would confuse it with a megalopolis or world capital.  

I find it interesting that the fastest growth in bike share programs is found in second- and third-tier cities like Portland and Madison.  And you could be forgiven for thinking that the bike-share concept is "trickling down" from world capitals and centers like Paris, London and New York.

The irony is that, as I learned recently, a city with about half of Eugene's population (though on a quarter as much land-area) had the first known bike-share program.  In 1976, La Rochelle, a lovely town on the French Atlantic (Bay of Biscay) coast, launched its fleet of velos jaunes for use by the public.  The current incarnation of the program is called Yelo and still uses, yes, yellow bicycles!

Hmm...I wonder what color Eugene's share bikes will be.

Whenever They Drain The Canal...

I remember hearing about it when I was in Paris last year:  the Canal St. Martin was drained.

Even before the neighborhoods lining it became fashionable, I enjoyed walking along its banks, or cycling the streets that ran alongside it.  The old houses and industrial buildings that stand beside it made it seem more like the Paris of my imagination than the sites along the Seine did.

The canal connects the Seine with the Canal de l'Ourcq, which in turn connects with the Marne River north of the city.  From what I understand, St. Martin is drained every fifteen years or so.  I've often thought the detritus found at the bottom could tell some interesting stories.

It was drained in January of last year and, the last time before that, in 2001.  As the millenium began, the 10th Arrondissement--through which much of the canal runs--was in its transition from a working-class neighborhood to an area full of some of the most interesting galleries and trendiest cafes in the City of Light.  (Indeed, it was this area that suffered the November 2015 terrorist attacks.)


In this country, we call it "gentrification."  But to the folks who cleaned out the canal, it meant more and different kinds of refuse.

As for "different kinds", you only have to think of one thing that Paris had by 2016 but not in 2001:

Unfortunately, in the early days of Velib--Paris' bicycle share program--a number of the bikes were stolen.  Guess where they ended up?

Now, bicycles have been dumped in the canal probably since, well, there were bicycles in Paris.  So have motorbikes, house furnishings and even an old camera or two.  But if some archaeologist or historian were to study St. Martin's detritus, what would they learn from finding Velib bikes?

Probably the same things they'd learn from comparing the wine bottles tossed into the canal in one period with those of another.    One thing is for sure: You don't see any of it in Amelie or any of Alfred Sisley's paintings!

In Delhi: Getting People To Ride Before It's Too Late

Delhi, like other major cities in developing countries, has an air pollution problem that some are calling a crisis. It's so bad that international players on the cricket field wear masks.

While political parties are playing the "blame game", more than a few people realize that some things must change.  Akash Gupta, the founder of Mobycy--which claims to be India's first dockless bicycle sharing startup system--tells of a report he recently read, which indicated that one of the reasons why people drive or take cabs to work or school is the problem they have with "last mile connectivity".  People can take public transportation, but to actually reach their destinations, they must make switches of transport.  And, the closer they come to their destination, the more likely it is that they will need to switch--whether from one bus line to another or to another mode of transportation entirely.

So, Gupta says, bicycling can offer a solution.  "Cycles should become a norm," he explains, "because they are easy to ride, quick to find, don't let you become dependent on someone else and are also cost effective."  That last point is not lost on businesses, who are finding that making deliveries by bike or e-bike is more effective--because it's faster--in dense city traffic.  

Even as bike share programs and delivery bicycles are becoming more common, and increasing numbers of people are riding for recreation, getting people to trade pistons for pedals in their daily commute has been a difficult task for city planners.  The biggest obstacle for most people is the motorized traffic that planners are trying to reduce.  Many people in Delhi echo a familiar refrain heard in cities all over the globe:  They don't feel safe riding among the cars, trucks and other motorized vehicles--or, more to the point, drivers.   

To that end, bike lanes and other physical infrastructure are being built.  But, as studies have shown, lanes by themselves don't do much to increase the number of bicycle commuters, or cyclists overall.  Vishala Reddy seems to recognize as much.  The founder and Director of Identcity has been behind many projects, such as car-free Tuesdays, to promote cycling during the past decade.  But she says that the real infrastructure consists of attitudes and incentives.  About the former, she says that more respect has to be developed for cyclists on the road.  As for the latter, she believes offices and other workplaces could offer them--and physical infrastructure, such as parking facilities, for cyclists.

Cyclists in Delhi

She and Gupta, unlike too many involved with planning in American cities, recognize that making cycling more appealing and safe is not just something that will make hipsters happy. They understand that their city's economic well-being--and, indeed, its very survival, as well as that of the planet--hinge at least in part on getting people's feet off gas pedals and onto bicycle pedals.  As Gupta warns, "If we don't start using e-vehicles or cycles now, it will be too late."

Back When I Weighed Less, There Was Weyless!

Someone--I forget who--told me that you know you're middle-aged when you see all the young people wearing something and you remember the last time it was in fashion.   

Another definition I've heard for "middle age" is when young people wear what you wore in your youth and call it "retro" or "vintage".

And I started my gender transition just in time for my middle age!

I found myself thinking about such things when I came across this in an eBay listing:

The fact that they're water bottle cage clips alone earns them the label of "retro" or "vintage":  Most new bikes (and a lot of not-so-new ones) have bottle cage mounts brazed on, or otherwise integrated into, the frame; thus, most new cages are designed to be used with them.  The few new cages that are made for bikes that don't have built-in mounts are likely to have some sort of mounting system built into them, or come with straps.

When I first became a dedicated cyclist, some four decades ago, few frames--even at the highest quality and price levels--came with water bottle mounts.  Gradually, they began to appear on top-tier racing and touring bikes and trickled down to bikes in the lower price ranges.  Still, most cages--like the classic Specialites TA and REG models-- came with clamps, even if they were designed to be used with braze-ons.

The Weyless bottle cage, however, was designed to be used with the clips shown.  It did not fit on braze-on mounts.  Even though it was, even with its clamps, one of the lightest cages available (It claimed to be the lightest), it sank like a stone in the cycling marketplace of the late '70s.  That was just about the time high-level racing and touring bikes started to come with braze-ons. Within a few years, that feature would be found on bikes at all price levels.

But there's something else that makes those Weyless bottle clamps "retro." It's a trait shared with another Weyless part:

Yes, they both got that treatment called "drillium".  If you look at racing photos from that period, most bikes had drilled-out brake levers; sometimes chainrings and other parts also had holes in them.  Sometimes it looked silly, but I rather like the way it was done on the brake cable clip in the above photo:  The holes are bigger in the wider part of the clip, near the top, and taper down as the clip narrows toward the mounting screw.

I can remember when Velo Orange and other companies started to offer "drillium" parts about a decade or so ago. I couldn't help but to think back to my early days as a cyclist, when I so wanted one of those racing bikes with drilled-out Campagnolo parts!

Today, almost anyone who buys "drillium" parts or accessories--whether they're vintage or modern-production--is trying to achieve some sort of "retro" look.  The same can't be said, however, about everyone who bought something with the Weyless name on it.

How's that?, you ask.  Well, the company that made those Weyless bottle cages and clips--as well as some of the lightest seatposts, pedals and hubs ever produced--went out of business some time during the late '70's.  Depending on who you believe, its demise was a result of the '70's Bike Boom ending, founder Lester Tabb's shady business dealings or the warranty claims that resulted after it started a line of bike clothing made from wool that wasn't supposed to shrink--and, of course, it did.

I am guessing that the copyright on the name "Weyless" had expired when, during the '90's, Southern California-based mail-order (and, later, online) retailer Supergo used the name for their line of bikes and parts.  I never used any of them myself, but from what I've read and heard, they were made in the same factories, and to almost the same specs, as bikes, parts and accessories from better-known brands, at a lower price.   And most of the riders who used them seemed satisfied with them.

The funny thing is that most folks who bought Supergo's Weyless stuff had probably never heard of the earlier incarnation of the Weyless brand. That is because most of Supergo's Weyless offerings were for mountain biking, in which most of the riders were (and are) younger than those in road cycling.  Most of them weren't even born--or were drinking out of baby bottles rather than Weyless bottles--when the original Weyless parts and accessories were produced!

It's also likely that those young riders didn't know that Supergo, at the time the original Weyless brand was on the market, was known as Bikecology, one of the first large mail-order bike retailers spawned in the '70's Bike Boom!

Hmm...If I'd called this blog "Bikecology", I wonder how many readers would have gotten it.  Perhaps I could have had a contest and the first person to identify it would get some original Weyless part.  The only problem would have been that I didn't, and don't, have any!

Note:  Supergo was bought out by Performance (who else?) in 2003.