Boxing Day Bicycle

George Bernard Shaw once quipped that England and the US are two countries separated by a common language.

He had a point.  After all, there are specific words we use and they don't, or vice versa. And, of course, there are words and expressions that have different meanings when they are used on one side or another of the Atlantic.  Also, I think we use our language in very different ways, and for very different purposes, from the way it's used on what James Baldwin called the "damp little island."  That, of course, would take a book or two to describe.

Anyway, I'm going to talk about one expression in particular:  Boxing Day. Say it to an American, and it would probably conjure up an afternoon--a Saturday, probably--when men and, possibly, a few boys, go to an arena to see pugilists engaged in their metier.  At least, that's what I thought the first time I heard the expression--from my aunt, who hails from a town across the river from Manchester--many years ago.

She, of course, was referring to today--the day after Christmas, which is celebrated as a holiday in her native land.  It's also observed in just about every country that ever was ruled by the Crown--with the exception, of course, of the good ol' Yoo-Ess-Ayy!

The origins of the day are debated, but most authorities seem to agree that it was a day on which servants, house maids, delivery boys and post men received gifts or gratuities. Since most such workers worked on Christmas Day, they were given the following day off to spend with their families, and were sent off with boxes containing gifts.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Halfords and other retailers hold major sales on that day.   Here in the US, it always seemed to be the day people went to exchange gifts--which, of course, were often in boxes.  

So, I guess, we did keep at least part of the traidition--that of carrying boxes.  Thus, Ann Stuart-Teter had the right idea when she dubbed this photo "Boxing Day Bicycle":

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

May the light shine on your season!

Above all, have a safe journey!

What Do We Have In Common?

The virus was kind. Or, at least, it was courteous:  It delayed its gratification.  It could have made me really, really sick more than a week ago.  Instead, it decided to wait until I finished my semester.  Not that I was feeling great as I graded all of those papers and exams:  I was functioning just well enough for that, but not much else.

So now that I'm finished until next month, I still haven't been riding.  It has nothing to do with the weather, which has been cold, but not unseasonably so:  last week's snow is gone.  It also has nothing to do with the shorter hours of daylight:  I have my blinkies and other safety equipment. And I do have one thing in common with Santa's most famous reindeer.

Yes, my nose is red.  But it won't guide any sleighs or bikes or much of anything else besides my sneezes.  

Since I can't ride, or do much else, I will try to find out what, exactly, gave Rudolph his red nose.  Surely it wasn't my virus!

A Huracan vs A Housewife

There are reasons why police departments all over the world have bicycle patrols.  The main one is that an officer pedaling two wheels can reach places, such as congested downtown streets and alleyways of campuses, inaccessible to the cop with his or her foot on a gas pedal.  And, the constable on two wheels can get to a scene more quickly than his or her counterpart in a motorized vehicle.

What most police department brass don't know, however, is that one of its officer's legs can generate 573 horsepower on a bicycle. 

All right.  That's just a slight exaggeration.  In this one instance, however, a Japanese cop on a bike was a match for 573 horsepower of Italian automotivery. (All right, I made up that last word.)  Or, at least, those 573 horses--costing more than a lovely Louisiana abode that wouldn't look out of place in Gone With The Wind--couldn't escape from justice delievered from the seat of "a housewife-style chari bike.

For years, I've heard that red cars are more frequently pulled over than vehicles of any other color.  It makes sense: If you're going to speed, make illegal turns or do almost anything else you shouldn't be doing while driving, you're more likely to be caught if you catch an officer's eye while doing it.  And, of course, you are more likely to get such unwanted attention if your car has a bright, eye-catching hue.   

Now, of course, if you're buying a Lamborghini, you're probably not trying to be inconspicuous. So, of course, you'll go for a color like the bright orange of the Huracan in the video.  But even if that car had been painted in primer gray, its driver wouldn't have escaped the cop on the "housewife" bike.  Why?  Well, that cop had the law on his side.  No, I'm not talking about Japanese traffic code:  I mean the law of gravity.  

So, if you are contemplating whether to treat yourself to a sports car or a bike, just read this post--and watch the video! 

R.I.P. The Bicycle Chef

A few days ago, I wrote about Stephen Ambruzs' bike shop/ cafe, "Downshift", and how it--and other bike cafes--could be affected by the repeal of "net neutrality."

Today, nearly any municipality with a community of a few hundred or more cyclists has at least one place where you can have espresso or Earl Grey--or even a craft beer or cider--and chat, check your e-mail or check out some books and magazines while your brakes are being adjusted.  It's sometimes hard to believe that just a decade ago, very few such places existed.

One of the first bicycle cafes--or, at least, one of the first places to bill itself as such--opened in Sacramento (near Davis), California in 2005.  Business owners, especially restaurateurs, often name their enterprises after themselves.  Well, the fellow who started the bicycle cafe I'm about to mention did just that--well, sort of.  Bicycle Chef was indeed begun by someone who was a bicycle racer--Category II, to be exact--and a certified chef.

Actually, by the time he started the cafe, he was no longer racing:  a back injury ended his career. But he never gave up his passion for pedaling:  He continued to ride and coach young riders--as well as football (soccer) players--even as the responsibilities of his business and family took up most of his time.

Christopher Davis-Murai with his wife, Jennifer Davis-Murai, and their children, Naomi and Toshiro.

It never seems fair that, like the rest of us, such a person has only a limited amount of time in this world.  For Christopher Davis-Murai, that amount of time totaled 51 years, and it ended last Thursday when he collapsed just after stepping outside his house. 

Jennifer Davis-Murai has just lost her husband, and Naomi and Toshiro their father.  Many others in their community lost a mentor and friend.  And, many of us could say we've lost a pioneer who helped to create an idea--a bicycle cafe--that is part of today's cycling landscape.

Tosca Returns

You've seen her before:

Soon you'll see her all dressed up.

Yes, she's Tosca.  She absconded a few weeks ago and now she's back.  

Well, we all know that if we let our friends out of our sight for a while, they change.  I shouldn't be surprised. ;-)

Because It Isn't Easy Being Green....

By now, I'm sure you've heard that it's possible to balance an egg on its narrow end at the moment of Spring Equinox.

I've never tested that theory/rumor.  I don't think I ever will:  If I have to break an egg, I want to get an omelet out of it.

Anyway, Spring Equinox is three months today. Today, of course, is Winter Solstice.  Now, whether it's possible to balance anything at the moment the North Pole is closest to the sun (the definition of the Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere), I don't know.  

I am sure, however, that other things will balance just fine:

Chasing Zero In The Emerald City

Nearly four years ago, Bill de Blasio began his first term as Mayor of New York City.  One of his first major acts was to implement Vision Zero, a project with the goal of eliminating traffic fatalities.  It began in Sweden two decades ago and, since then, most European nations, as well as Canada, Japan and other countries, have adopted it.  So have a number of US cites besides New York.

One such city is Seattle.  The stated goal of the Emerald City is zero fatalities by 2030.  Casualties have certainly decreased since its implementation, but questions remain as to how much this reduction has to do with the program itself or the demographics of the city.

by Gabriel Campanario, The Seattle Times

To its credit, Seattle has achieved decreases in traffic casualties, particularly among pedestrians and cyclists, even though it is the fastest-growing large city in the nation.  It has among the largest percentages of commuters who cycle or walk to work among large cities, though those percentages have remained unchanged since 2012 and had changed little for several years before it. It should be noted, however, that mass transit usage has increased at a faster pace than the population growth, in part because of changes to bus routes and new light-rail stations in key locations.

It's also interesting to compare Seattle's statistics with those of other comparably-sized cities.  In 2016, the number of police-reported traffic collisions increased to 11,603 from 10,930 in 2015.  That followed a decade of steady decreases in both the number of collisions (15,744 in 2005) and the collision rate per traffic volume (79.4 to 55.5 from 2005 to 2015).  The 2016 collisions resulted in more serious injuries than those in 2015, but in 20 fatalities, compared to 21 in 2015.  In all, five pedestrians and three cyclists were killed in 2016:  both numbers were down by one from the previous year.  

(It should also be noted that 23 percent of the 2015 fatalities occurred in just one crash on the Aurora Bridge.)

While one fatality is too many, I think it's fair to let Seattle take some pride in its numbers.  While it witnessed a total of eight fatalities among cyclists and pedestrians, in Nashville, with roughly the same number of people, 50 cyclists and pedestrians died in traffic crashes.  Meanwhile, Washington DC and Portland OR, with slightly fewer people than Seattle, had 26 and 13 such deaths, respectively.  And, in the same year, my hometown of New York, which has about twelve times the population, recorded 162 deaths (18 cyclists and 144 pedestrians).

Will any city or country ever reach "zero"?  If so, which will be first?  If not, which will come closest?

Quicker In Queensland: Bicycle Ambulances

Police departments have long known that some "beats" can be more effectively patrolled by bicycle than in motor vehicles.  Such places include downtown areas, housing complexes, college campuses and almost any place where tourists and pedestrians congregate.  In such places, narrow streets or paths are difficult to navigate, or simply inaccessible, for motor vehicles, so an officer on two wheels can arrive more quickly than one who is behind a wheel.

Less common are ambulance bicycle fleets.  I am guessing it's because the idea so rarely occurs to anyone who decides on such things:  My searches have not yielded any reports of any city or other jurisdiction trying it and deciding it was a bust.

However, I have found out that in the Queensland, Australia city of Gold Coast, bicycle ambulances have been responding to calls in the Surfers Paradise and Broad Beach tourist zones.  The program is seen as so successful that the nearby city of Brisbane is launching a similar service. 

Gold Coast Bicycle Response Team

 

Officials hope that the Gold Coast and Brisbane paramedics on bikes will help to ease the extra burdens that will no doubt be placed on local emergency services when the 2018 Commonwealth Games are held in Gold Coast.  One sign that this is possible, and that the benefits of paramedics on bikes could extend well beyond the games, is that the average response time for a cycling paramedic has been, on average, eight minutes faster than that of an ambulance in a motor vehicle, according to Jane McDonald, one of the paramedics.  She recounts, as an example, a bicycle response team arriving four minutes after an anaphylaxis patient making a call.

Ms. McDonald herself might have something to do with those times:  After all, she raced and was considered one of her country's elite female cyclists.

How A Stolen Bike Became The Gift That Gave Back

By now you know that I have a soft spot for people who, in whatever ways, bring bikes to kids who couldn't otherwise afford them.

Most of the stories I've posted so far are about individuals or organizations who restore old bikes that might otherwise have ended up in a landfill.   Some started out as one-person operations and mushroomed into local non-profit organizations.

Well, today I'm going to tell you about a kid who gave his bike to another kid, and whose family helped out that other kid's family at the holidays.  And there's a particularly interesting "twist" to this story.

Fifty years ago, on Christmas Eve 1967, 18-year-old William Lynn Weaver was walking around in his neighborhood, the Mechanicsville area of Knoxville, Tennessee.  He saw another boy gliding down the street on a bike.  "Boy, that looks like my brother's bike," he thought.

When he got home, he asked his younger brother Wayne whether he knew where his bicycle was.  "It's down on the steps," he replied.  Except that it wasn't.

William Lynn Weaver with his brother in 1963.

Well, Mr. Weaver tracked down the kid who took his brother's bike--to an unlit shack in an alley--and planned to confront the kid.  But his father, who accompanied him, told him,"Just shut up and let me talk."

He knocked on the door.  An elderly man answered.  Inside, the shack was cold and dark, with only a single candle for light.  It turned out that the thief was indeed the old man's grandson.

He and William took the bike and walked home.

The father told the mother, who was cutting a turkey, about the incident.  She said nothing, but packed up some of the food.  Then "my father went to the coal yard and got a bag of coal," William recalls.  Then his father looked at his brother and said, "You've got another bike, don't you?"  The brother nodded, and the three of them returned to the shack with the food, coal and bike.  

The father handed over $20--not an inconsiderable sum in those days--and said, "Merry Christmas."  The man broke down in tears.

William Lynn Weaver today.

As William explains, his family wasn't as badly-off as the boy and man who lived in the shack, but they didn't have much, either.  "My father was a chauffeur, and my mother was a domestic," he explained.  "That Christmas, I don't remember what gift I got, but I do know that [giving to the boy and his grandfather] made me feel better than any Christmas I've ever had."

Ah, the power of a bike...