Is It Still A Bicycle?

An Outside magazine article raised this question, specifically in reference to the HPC Revolution.

Here is the verdict, from Ty Brookhart and Wes Siler, the article's authors:  "Because no one is going to buy an 82-pound bicycle, that essentially means HPC is selling a very light electric motorcycle that, thanks to pedals and post-sale programming, is legally considered a bicycle."

Got that?  The pedals are there simply to fit the legal definition of a bicycle.  That confirms what I suspected about many of the e-bikes I've seen lately:  It's hard to imagine that their riders actually used the pedals.  Or, if they did, it was difficult to conceive of using them for anything but starting the bike.  

My purpose in raising  that issue is not to rebuke riders who choose to motor rather than pedal.  Rather, I mention it because of a concern I have:  Those bikes are often ridden at motorcycle speeds, often in places where motorized vehicles don't belong.

I am not merely expressing anxiety over a "what if?"  Instead, I am speaking from observation and experience--in particular, a close encounter I had with one of those "bikes" on the Queensborough Bridge bike lane last night.  It was rolling faster than the cars on the main roadway, where traffic volume was considerably below that of the rush-hour peak.  It was also faster than the train that rose from the tunnel and up the ramp--just a few yards to the side of the bike lane--to the Queensborough Plaza station.

The worst part was that I didn't hear the e-bike approaching me until the rider came within a few hairs from brushing against my elbow.

And, yes, that "bike" had pedals.  More than likely, it also had the "programming" Brookhart and Siler mention--a speed limiter that caps the bike's velocity at 20MPH.  That limiter, along with the pedals, allows such machines to be sold as "bicycles".  As often as not, users remove that limiter.  I'm sure that the guy who almost knocked me down removed his--or had it removed.

I am not the first to argue that such "bikes" shouldn't be ridden anywhere near where human-powered bikes are pedaled.  If anything, those bikes are even more dangerous, to pedestrians as well as cyclists, because they are silent and less visible than cars or other motorized vehicles.  But, as best as I can tell, as long as those "bikes" can be classified as bicycles, there isn't much anyone can do to restrict them.

Will The Idaho Stop Become The Utah Yield?

Now you can call it "The Utah Yield."

At least, that's what Carol Spackman Moss is calling it.

She's a member of the Beehive State's House of Representatives.  More to the point, she is part of that body's Transportation Committee, which passed House Bill 58 yesterday.

That bill, if it becomes law, would allow cyclists to forego the 90-second wait at "Stop" signs mandated in current statutes.  In other words, "Stop" would mean "Yield".

In 1982, Idaho--Utah's northern neighbor--passed such a law.  Since then, other jurisdictions, including several Colorado towns as well as the city of Paris, have passed similar legislation which allow cyclists to proceed through stop signs or red lights under certain conditions.  Still, treating "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs is often referred to, colloquially, as the "Idaho stop".

But Bill 58 goes a step further than Idaho's law.  If passed, it would allow cyclists to treat red traffic signals as if they were "Stop" signs, meaning that we could proceed through them after 90 seconds if there is the intersection is clear.

These provisions, together, create what Ms. Moss calls the "Utah Yield".

I applaud her work and that of her colleagues, especially since they took the time to read studies about other jurisdictions with "stop-as-yield" policies.  In none of them was any increase in the risk of car-bicycle crashes found.  Moreover, one Idaho study found a 14 percent decrease in collisions between cars and bikes.

I can't help but to wonder whether she or her any of her colleagues are cyclists:  In addition to their research, they based their work on some commonsense observations.  The bill ought to become law, Ms. Moss says, because traffic signals throughout the state are "designed for cars and not for bicycles."  As an example, she says that, all too often, when cyclists stop for a red light, they have to "wait and wait because they are not heavy enough to trigger the road sensors."

Bill 58 will now go to the House floor consideration.                                                                         

Mott Haven Morning

What is the difference between "dawn" and "sunrise"?

Someone, I forget who, said that if you call it "dawn", you probably aren't awake for it.  Whatever you call it, it's early in the morning.

I'm not complaining.  I was just thinking of a title for this post. "Dawn In The Bronx" seems like a Chamber of Commerce slogan.  So I opted for "Mott Haven Morning."  Whatever you call it, I was up for it.  And it was good.

Revolutionaries, With Or Without Bikes

I just happen to live in one of those states where today--Lincoln's birthday--is a holiday.

When I was a kid, it was a holiday everywhere in the US.  So was George Washington's birthday, the 22nd of this month.  In 1971, Congress passed a law that collapsed the  two holidays into one Federal holiday, known as dead white Presidents' Day.  That day is observed on the third Monday of February, which happens to be a week from today.  Individual states, however, could choose to observe Lincoln's birthday. Luckily for me, New York is one of them.

It's not likely that Abe ever rode anything we would recognize as a bicycle. Quite possibly the closest I ever came to seeing our 16th President on two wheels was this:

I would guess, from my admittedly limited experience with him (as a person), that he had a lot more fun than Abe ever seemed to have!

(By the way, Sheldon's birthday is 14 July--le jour de Bastille.  Could it have been any other day?)

Is It Really The Thought That Counts?

In a neighborhood where I once lived, there was a "high concept" bicycle shop.

Perhaps that tells you something about the neighborhood.  As far as I could tell, though, "high concept" meant there wasn't much there but the intent of the owners.  They didn't have the space to stock lots of high-quality (or merely expensive) bikes and equipment, but you were supposed to know somehow that such stuff would be there if the owners had the wherewithal for it.

It was sort of like conceptual art, I guess:  The owner's intent, like the artist's, was more important than the product--if indeed there was one.  That might've been the reason why the shop stayed in business for a few years before the dot-com bubble burst just after the turn of the century/milennium.


This picture got me to thinking about that place:

Are those conceptual or high-concept wheels?