Fighting For Scraps At The Edge In The Mile High City

When I was writing for a local newspaper, a kinda-sorta-somewhat high-ranking (Is that vague, or what?) police officer admitted that  he didn't make arrests or even give summonses for some low-level offenses.  "Is it because you want to spend your time and energy on more important things?"

He shook his head.  When I reassured him that our conversation was off-the-record, he admitted that he doesn't give tickets or arrest people for some of those minor infractions because, well, he has committed "most of them" himself at some point or another in his life.  

Now, as I understand, here in New York, as in many other places, police officers are exempt from some of those charges.  The same holds true in Denver, where they cannot be charged with an offense they rarely ticket:  riding a bicycle on a sidewalk.

The Mile High City's statutes on this matter are similar to those in many other places:  The rule doesn't apply if the sidewalk is part of a designated bike route. Also, police who are riding their bikes as part of their uniformed duties, as well as other uniformed city, state and federal employees are exempt.  So are newspaper deliverers.

Denver police officers on the 16th Street Mall during the 2008 Democratic National Convention.

Oh, one other group of cyclists is allowed to ride on the sidewalk:  Those within one block of preparing to dismount their bikes.  That alone is probably a reason why cops don't enforce the policy:  How are they supposed to know that a cyclist is going to dismount on the next block?

But the vagueness of that part of the law is not the only reason why it's infrequently enforced in Colorado's capital. According to a recent report, the officers themselves admit that cycling on some of the city's streets is simply unsafe, and the sidewalk is the only viable alternative.  

One officer added that his exemption from the law is not the only reason he violates it.  "I'm not going to get hit," he explained.  He, perhaps not surprisingly, admitted that he has never ticketed anyone for the violation.

Jill Lancatore, Executive Director of the nonprofit advocacy group WalkDenver, says that officer's perception hit the nail on the head.  Though she acknowledges pedestrians are frustrated, she cautions against making the issue one of pedestrians vs. cyclists because "So much of our public right of way are dedicated to cars that everybody else is pushed to the fringes and we're fighting for scraps at the edge of the roadway."

I have not cycled in Denver but, based on what I saw in other parts of Colorado, I imagine it's more spread-out and car-centric than my hometown or places like San Francisco or Portland. From reports I've read, streets are particularly narrow, probably as a result of constraints of construction in the mountains.  That, in and of itself, is a reason to make cycling safer and thus more enticing to more people.  

But there is another reason:  In part because of its altitude, Denver has some of the worst air quality among major American cities.  So, working to make cycling safer can only help to improve residents' health as well as safety.

Until then, cyclists, pedestrians and other non-motorists will "fight for scraps at the edge," as Lancatore says.  And cops like the one I mentioned will look the other way.

School's Out!

Yesterday I wrote about devices to which I am not yet accustomed.  I'm learning them, but I think I'll master Sanskrit, if I start learning it on my next round-number birthday, sooner and better than I'll master the iPhone or iPad.

I also wrote about something to which I was accustomed practically from the moment I touched it:  Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special.  She's a birthday gift to myself and, after my initial ride, I was going to "save" her until the day came.  So much for my self-discipline.

Everything was right yesterday:  Small puffs drifted across a blue sky, the air was warm but not oppressively so, and a brisk wind blew into my face during most of the outbound part of my ride.  That meant, of course, that the wind pushed at my back on my way home.

And, of course, Dee-Lilah.

Well, almost everything was right.  When I got to Point Lookout, the Point itself was closed.  There were trucks and earthmovers and other kinds of machinery from some agency.  The folks in them didn't want to talk and one of them glowered at me when I aimed my phone to take a photo.  I just hope they're rebuilding the shoreline, which has been damaged by storms wrought by climate change our, ahem, political leaders deny.  At least, I hope they're not readying the spot for some developer who wants to build condos or something.

The other part of my ride that could've been better was the traffic:  I saw lots more of it almost everywhere.  Worst of all, drivers were weaving--well over the speed limit, no less--with no apparent regard for anyone else.  The ones who weren't driving that way seemed to be working as Uber drivers, picking up people--kids, mainly--in seemingly random places.

Then I remembered why:  Yesterday was the last day of the academic term for New York school kids.  I could understand the kids being a little crazy.  But the adults?

Oh well.  At least school was out for me, too, and I had a great ride nonetheless. 

N.B.:  The bag on the front is from--you guessed it--RuthWorks SF.

I’ll Get Used To Them—Or So I’m Told

Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special, has been, well, a delight. She hasn’t been in my life for very long, but I feel as if I’ve been riding with her forever.

In other words, I haven’t had to adjust to her.  I must say, though, that in designing my bike, I had Arielle, my Mercian Audax and other bikes I’ve ridden to inform my consultations with Hal of Bicycle Habitat and Grant of Mercian Cycles.

On the other hand, Vera, my Mercian Mixte, took some getting used to—but not much. I bought her second-hand, but she fits me well and my experience with other bikes told me it would serve my purpose well.  

Actually, it doesn’t take long for me to adjust to most bikes I try, unless it’s radically different from anything I’ve ridden before. Given how many bikes I’ve ridden and owned, that is not a frequent occurrence.

Electronic devices, however, are another story.  Perhaps it is, as some have suggested, a result of my combination of life experience (a.k.a. age) and lack of experience with cell phones, tablets and the like. Maybe they’re right. I must say, though, that adjusting to my new iPhone and iPad has been a frustrating ordeal—and grows even more so the more  I hear how “intuitive” Apple stuff is supposed to be.

Oh, why did my slide-phone have to start dying on me?  

Doing Unto Others

Some good deeds can be performed only while you're riding your bicycle. 

You might be thinking of the time you gave directions to a pedestrian or motorist.  Or the time you retrieved something someone dropped.  And, of course, there are those times you've helped another cyclist on the side of the road.

I am thinking of those, too.  But then there are other problems or emergencies we can deal with but motorists or even pedestrians can't.  I'm thinking now, in pre-cell phone days, of times I summoned police or made a call from a pay phone when a motorist or someone else was stranded far from either. ( I've done this in France--when I was cycling the Pyrenees en route to Spain--as well as locally.)  Then there was the day I saw an elderly woman take a fall while crossing a street (in Florida) and, more recently, the time I saw a homeless man passed out on a sidewalk in the Bronx, on my way to work.  

My favorite, though, was the time a woman called, "You, on the bike!"  I turned.  "Can you help me?"  Of course, I pulled over.  She explained, between sobs, that she'd left her purse on a bus making its run along the Union Turnpike in Queens.  "Do you remember the number on the side of the bus?"  She did.  "Give me a few minutes."

It actually didn't take that long:  I found that bus a couple of lights away.  I knocked on the door and explained the situation to the driver.  He actually walked the down the aisle and--voila!--found a red leather clutch on a seat.  

When I brought it back to the woman, she, of course, thanked me profusely and wanted to give me the money in that purse--which I, of course, refused--while laughing out of sheer giddiness.  "Then I'll pray for good things to happen for you." I'm not religious, but I hope she didn't think I was laughing at her offer of blessings!

I laughed in that same giddy way yesterday.  As I approached the stairs on the Randall's Island side of the RFK Memorial Bridge, I saw a young man who looked ready to faint.  "Are you OK?" He stammered something.  I offered him my water bottle; he sipped from it.  But I knew he wasn't suffering from heat exhaustion, even though the day was warm and humid.  "Are you diabetic?"  He nodded. "L-low blood sugar!"   

I searched my bag:  no bananas, energy bars, chocolate or any of the other sweet things I might bring on a ride!  The only available food was on the island--or back on the Queens side.  "I'll get you something!  I'll be back in a minute."

So I pedaled at a pace that might've won me a race or two back in the day to the concession stand near one of the ballfields.  Much to my surprise--and, at that moment, horror--it was closed.  There was a "roach coach" (a food truck) nearby, a long line of customers snaked from its windows.  And it wasn't going to move quickly:  people were ordering hot sandwiches, plates and french fries.

Sighing, I caught sight of a nearby tennis club.  I'm not a member, but I figured there would be a cafe--or at least a snack bar--where I could buy something.  That hunch proved correct, and I bought two fresh-baked cookies--one chocolate chip, the other fudge with s'mores.  

When I got back to the stairway on the bridge, the young man was still there, and another young man was talking to him.  That other young man didn't have any food or water, but at least he encouraged the young man with diabetes. Both thank me profusely; the fellow with diabetes hugged me. 

Anyway, I mention these stories, not to boast of my magnanimity, but to point out that they never would have happened if I hadn't been on my bicycle.  That young man who was  about to faint, or worse, from his low blood sugar never would have been seen by the motorists streaming across the bridge.  And the pedestrians wouldn't have been able to get him a snack as quickly as I did.

What are some of the good deeds you performed while riding your bike--and that you could have performed only while riding your bike?

Why Can't They?

Bicycling has been one of the few "constants" in my life.

One of the few "near-constants", if you will, in my adult life has been living with cats.

At times in my life, I've tried to combine them.  You guessed it:  I've tried to teach Caterina, Charlie I, Candice, Charlie II, Max and Marlee to ride.  Nothing I've tried has worked.  I even tried this as a motivational tool:

I mean, if a dog can ride, why can't they?  Right?

Then again, just because two things are wonderful, they should not be combined--like chocolate chips in bagels. (Hey, I'm an old-school New Yorker!)

No Needles Needed

I believe I've just found the perfect gift "Velouria". 

 If you've been reading this blog, chances are you know her as the author of Lovely Bicycle, on which she posted almost daily for a few years.  We haven't seen much of her lately.  I'm guessing it's because she's engaged in more remunerative work or enjoying marital bliss.

Or, perhaps she's doing a lot of knitting.  Which is why I believe this would right for her.  




A Dutch engineer has recently created the Cyclo-knitter.  It's a bicycle--actually, more like an exercise bike--attached to a loom, which is placed on a wooden tower above the bike.  As you pedal, the fabric cascades from the tower, and in five minutes, you hve a brand-new scarf.

The contraption has been placed on a platform of a Dutch railway station.  As George Barratt-Jones notes in his Mental Floss article, a commuter who has some "down" time on a cold morning can get on the bike, warm him or her self up by pedaling and, after five minutes, have a scarf that will help keep him or her warm for the rest of the day.

Now, I'm not a knitter. But I know a few, including "Velouria", who are.  While some make money from their work, they don't support themselves on it because it takes too much time.  They tell me the knit because they enjoy it and find it "relaxing" or "meditative".  That, I can understand.  Which is the reason why, on second thought, they and "Velouria" might not want the Cyclo-knitter after all--unless, of course, they actually want to make a living as knitters.  What kind of fun would that be?

Carrying The Evidence Against Him

If you're going to commit a crime, you shouldn't leave evidence.  And you certainly had better not have the evidence on you when you get caught.

Josue Flores-Ochoa has just learned this lesson.  The 27-year-old from the Boston suburb of Everett had one too many and drove through nearby Revere in the wee hours of Sunday morning. At the same time, a 56-year-old man from Winthrop was riding his bike.

Unfortunately, you can guess what happened next:  Flores-Ochoa struck the man with his car. 

The man was taken to a nearby hospital where, fortunately, his wounds were not found to be life-threatening.

In another instance of good fortune, police found Flores-Ochoa a short time later.  Several people reported seeing the crash, which certainly helped. 

Don't carry the evidence with you!

But Flores-Ochoa actually did more than anyone else to help the police find him:  When he drove away after hitting the man, the bicycle was attached to the front of his car.  It was still there when the cops stopped him on Washington Avenue in Chelsea.

I wish his victim a speedy recovery.  Most of all, I want him to be well enough to get a chuckle out of Flores-Ochoa's ineptitude.

A Bike That Mines Bitcoins?

Eddy Mercx was very particular about his bicycles.  “They have to make money,” he explained.

What would he have thought about TOBA?

Jsince it,s an e-bike, he wouldn’t have been allowed to ride it.  On the other hand, given the corruption of the UCI, someone might have found a way to get it “under the radar” for him.  Then again, if he had ridden it, people might not have noticed the difference.

One thing he would have approved, though, is that the bike makes money. Well, sort of:  It rewards its users with crypto-currency.  For every thousand miles, the rider earns the equivalent of $26.50, which can be redeemed for products provided by partnerships with LoyalCoin.

Hmm...Maybe this wouldn’t have been such a great deal for Eddy!

Sunset Bikes?

A week ago, I gave you, dear readers, a lesson in business history disguised as a post about an aspect of bicycling.

Specifically, I reported on Uber's foray into the bike-share market.  This shows that the company's decision-makers realize are not mistaking their business for their industry, as other companies did before it was too late.  Actually, Uber executives probably realized that in New York and other cities, the model they pioneered--taxis that could be hailed by a phone app--was undermining the taxi industry because there were simply too many on the streets. (This has had tragic results: Six cabbies have committed suicide this year.)  Whatever the case, Uber made the move to dockless bike-sharing, which could be said to be part of the new "share economy"--or of the transportation industry.

Now another company is venturing into a related industry--that of bicycles themselves.  What's really interesting about this story is that this firm, which makes one of the most iconic American products, has an all-but-forgotten history as a bicycle manufacturer.  And the products for which it's currently known have---two wheels!

Yes, I am talking about Harley Davidson.  If you're of a certain age, you remember Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda astride custom Harleys in 1969's Easy Rider.  But, in recent years, the brand's image has become as staid as that of Buick or Oldsmobile--or, ahem, Schwinn.  As it is, milennials are far less likely than anyone over 35 to buy any motorcycle at all, and among those who have the funds and inclination to buy one, Harley is seen as an "old white guy's brand."  

So, one has to wonder whether Harley's introduction of a limted-edition cruiser will achieve its intended goal of reaching younger consumers--especially with its $4200 price tag.  Ironically, Harley's earlier incursion into the bike market, from 1917 to 1922, was also an attempt to "hook" younger people--in this case children--on the company's brand in the hope they would grow up to buy the company's motorcycles.

The limited-edition Harley

Now, I am not trying to knock Harley or motorcycling in general.  My uncle rode for more than half a century and finally got the Harley he always wanted just a couple of years before he had to stop riding.  If anything, I feel sad for him, because he had to stop doing something he loved, and perhaps a little sad for Harley.  After all, the bikes and the brand practically scream "Americana" and they were made, for decades, in Milwaukee by union workers. 

In a sad irony, the tariffs imposed by El Cheeto Grande with the ostensible purpose of protecting American workers and industries may deal another, if not the ultimate, blow to a company that's been on the ropes for some time.  More than one analyst familiar with the company and industry says that for some time, overseas sales have been keeping Harley-Davidson afloat.  Perhaps the tariffs that were supposed to be the gunboats guarding the company could instead be the torpedo that sinks them--and one has to wonder whether their bicycles will be their life preservers.

Some History On EBay

Here's something the author of Disraeligears (no, not the Creem album) would love, or at least appreciate.  So would another one of my favorite bike bloggers, The Retrogrouch.  For that matter, I would, too.

Back in the mists of time, before the cycling world was ruled by Campagnolo, Shimano and SRAM, a bicycle component manufacturer was beginning its ascent in the Land of the Rising Sun.  They would enjoy dominion in the world of quality bicycles--save, of course, for Campagnolo's racing colony--long before most had heard of Shimano or SRAM was even a seed in the great plains of cycling.

(Can you hear Sprach Zarathustra in the background?)

That company's demise came in much the same way as the deaths of other empires:  through complacency, hubris and responding to a threat that really wasn't.  That is the reason why its beginnings are, if not lost in the mists of time, at least not remembered by many.

That company was called--ironically, in retrospect--SunTour.   In 1964, its chief designer created a derailleur with a design--called the slant parallelogram--that would change derailleurs for ever.  For about a decade prior, however, it would offer derailleurs that seemed to be derivatives, if not copies, of Huret mechanisms of that time.  

The SunTour 8.8.8 wide in the photo does, in fact, bear both mechanical and visual semblances to the Huret Competition from the same period.  The derailleur Louison Bobet, the first cyclist to win the Tour de France in three consecutive years, rode is a refinement (some say just a re-badging) of that derailleur. SunTour's version, on the other hand, has a longer cage and might be considered a "touring" version.

Both derailleurs are on eBay.  For $158, plus $12 shipping, you can have the SunTour sent to you from Japan.  The Huret "Tour de France", on the other hand, will set you back $999.52.  But at least shipping is included and, hey, not only is it associated with one of the greatest cyclists of all, but the seller claims to have received it as a gift from Tom Avenia, one of the folks who kept the torch burning during the "dark ages" of cycling in the US.

I'm a Francophile, and I still have a soft spot for SunTour, in spite of the blunders that led to their undoing.