Oh, Deer!

In my four decades as a cyclist, all sorts of animals have crossed my path: dogs, cats, squirrels, chipmunks, cattle, chickens, rabbits, otters, raccoons, horses, armadillos, lizards, macaques and an Alpine Ibex.  And, of course, deer--including one that darted across the lane I was riding in the Bronx a few weeks ago.

A deer crossing might be one of cyclists' most common fears,at least in the Americas, as it can do some real damage and one has a chance of encountering one in rural or wooded areas from Alaska to Chile.  On the other hand, one doesn't have much of a chance of encountering an ibex or macaque unless one rides in their native lands.

Such fears were justified for a group of cyclists in North Carolina.  




Fortunately, none of those cyclists were hurt, even though the crash sent the deer flying over them.  The critter, though, wasn't so lucky:  It died.

The Ride Is Good. Just Make Sure The Check Is!

I'm going to level with you about something:  I bounced a check, once--though not on purpose.

It was summer, and I was a poor student.  It was in the days before ATMs were widespread:  The bank I used--the one nearest the campus--didn't have them yet.  And, to my knowledge, direct deposit didn't exist.

I'd received my paycheck and deposited near the end of the day.  In those days, "hold" times for deposits were usually a bit longer than they are today. I miscalculated how long the check would take to clear (I think I counted days instead of "business days".)   I'd had a couple of outstanding checks (For all of you young readers:  There was no PayPal or any other way to pay electronically!), probably for my rent and school-related things. 

If the available funds were insufficient, the bank would "bounce" the check with the smallest amount.  In my case, it was for the princely sum of $4.00.

I ran to the bank, full of contrition.  The bank officer, I think, took pity on me:  She probably met other student/customers like me.  She reversed the fees.

Then I had to contact the recipient of that check:  an organization, some of whose members I knew.  In fact, I was even friendly with a few of them because--you guessed it--we rode (and, sometimes, drank beer) together.

I'm talking about the local chapter of the Century Road Club, who organized the Princeton Century.  That check was for the ride's registration fee.  I explained the situation to Susan, the club's treasurer.  Of course, she didn't think I was trying to scam the club and I gave her cash, which she refused.  I still got my ride patch!

I must say, though, that I still feel a bit embarrassed when I think of that bounced check, as understanding as Susan and that bank officer were.  After all, who bounces checks for $4.00--and for a bike ride?

(At least I didn't become an accountant!)



What got me to reminiscing about that story?  A story about another bounced check involving a bike ride.  This time, though, the issuers of the check were the organizers of a ride--and, apparently, they bounced others related to that ride.

Jill Jurca discovered one of those bounced checks when she was balancing the books of the Delta High School Band Parents.  Through the Delta County Chamber of Commerce, she'd heard that the 24th annual Tour of Colorado, held from 24 to 30 June, was passing through town.  The organizers were looking for local groups to provide meals  for the ride's 1500 cyclists.

One thing I know about school bands:  They need every dollar they can get, so they look at every possible way to raise funds.  This one looked really good to Jurca:  The Tour paid $1800, and the band provided a hearty breakfast for the cyclists, who pedaled through four mountain passes in a loop that covered about 700 kilometers (425 miles).

The Chamber of Commerce, from whom Jurca learned of the Tour's impending arrival, also got a rubber check--for $1320.  So did the Kiwanis Club of Delta County, which got stuck for $1365. Those organizations worked with other local groups to provide lodging, meals and entertainment (including a beer garden).  In addition to money, it took months of preparation to provide those services to riders.

A Denver Post reporter tried to reach the tour organizers, to no avail.  It seems that most of the information on the Tour's website--where, in previous years, registration for the next year's ride would begin as soon as that year's ride ended--has been wiped away.  All Jurca has is a statement, which she forwarded to the Post, saying that some of the Tour's sponsors didn't come through with money they were promised, so Tour organizers don't now--and aren't sure when--they will have the funds to make good on those checks.

Susan and that bank officer weren't upset with me. But Jill Jurca is with the Tour--and I can't say I blame her. "You're dealing with kids and band students and that's not OK to do this," she says.

Into The Ocean Blue...To Where?

In school, we were taught that Christopher Columbus "discovered" "America" on 12 October 1492.  

During my elementary school years, we got the day off on 12 October.  Then, around the time I was beginning adolescence, "Columbus Day" was moved to the second Monday of October.  So it is observed today.

As the story goes, he set sail for India. Instead, he landed somewhere between Port-au-Prince and Santo Domingo.  Thus, he didn't even make it to what we call America (i.e., the continent) today.

What I have never understood, though, is why we have a holiday for a guy who got lost.

And, as an Italian American, I don't know why he's a source of pride for us.  I mean, we have Michelangelo, Galileo, Leonardo, Raphael, Dante, Bocaccio, Cassini (OK, he turned French), Marconi and all sorts of other folks who distinguished themselves in every imaginable field.  Heck, we even have great fashion designers.  I'd rather have a day for Armani or even Versace--or, of course, any number of Italian cyclists.

All right, I'll shut up and go for a ride--and enjoy my lasagna afterward!

Make It What It's Always Been

Yesterday, I wrote about Floyd Landis' attempt to redeem himself.  He sees it as an attempt to redeem cycling.

I have no idea of what his political affiliations might be--or, indeed, whether he has any.  Whatever they are, or aren't, I can see him wearing this T-shirt:

Then again, I've always thought cycling is great--even if dopers and makers of useless gadgets muck it up sometimes.

A Cheater Or A Helper?

When I was writing for a local newspaper, I talked to police officers as well as their commanders.  One of the brass I saw regularly was, as it turned out, very well-read.  He told me his favorite novel was Les Miserables.

"It poses a question that we, in law enforcement, always deal with."  That question, he said, is this:  "Is redemption possible?"

Was Jean Valjean the thief and escaped convict Inspector Javert pursues from one end of France to another?  Or was he the industrious benefactor and kindly benefactor of Montreuil-sur-Mer who had to be coaxed into accepting its mayoralty but still declined the king's offer to make him a chevalier in the Legion d'honneur? 

There's a parallel, I think, in Floyd Landis' story.  He was stripped of his 2006 Tour de France victory after failing drug tests. Later, he was involved in a federal whistle-blower lawsuit against Lance Armstrong.  It was settled this past spring, and he is scheduled to receive about $1 million.

So, is he going to ride off into the sunset?  Or is he going to fund his business? (More about that later.)

No, he plans to fund his Floyd's of Leadville Pro Cycling Team with one of his former teammates, Gord Fraser.  He is seeking a UCI Pro Continental license for the team, which will be based in Canada.

His motivation, he explains, is that he likes the sport.  Referring to what he and his fellow riders did, he explains that it is "part of the reason" the bicycle racing "is at a low point now."  Though he "can't fix what happened in the past", he says, he wants "to help."

"I understand I hurt the cycling community," he admits.

He believes that starting a team is the thing to do because "teams are going away."  He was referring, no doubt, to the recent dissolution of two longtime US teams, Jelly Belly-Maxxis and UnitedHealthcare. 

Floyd's of Leadville is, as you've probably guessed, his business, based in the Colorado town where he lives. It offers soft gels, tinctures and creams for pain relief.  The common ingredient in all of them is...cannabis.

As you probably know by now, Colorado was one of the first US states to legalize marijuana for both medical and recreational purposes.  But, in most other states--and in the eyes of the Federal government-- it's still not legal for medical or recreational purposes. 

The irony of being a pot purveyor (well, all right, it's not quite as simple as that) doesn't seem to be lost on Landis.  His website points out that his business was borne of a "crossroads" when he realized he could no longer depend on opiods to relieve his pain.

So...Is Floyd the guy who tried to claim that the unusually high levels of testosterone found in his blood were "natural"?  Or the guy who helped to bring down a team and a generation of riders?  Or the man who, apparently, is trying to rebuild a sport--to be a benefactor, if you will?

And should we see him as someone who used some substances to gain an unfair advantage--or one who will use others to help young riders win, and more important, ride, in ways he never did?

En Vive B Vivit: A UBI Scholar Teaches Other Women

One year ago tomorrow, I reported on the scholarships Quality Bicycle Parts (QBP) was offering scholarships for women to learn bicycle mechanics at United Bicycle Institute's (UBI) school.  It's being offered again this year.

One of the great things, at least to me, about that scholarship is that it's open to all types of women, including trans folks like yours truly or anyone else who identifies as female or femme.  

Now, you might wonder how such a thing is an advancement for women, as being a bike mechanic isn't the steadiest (in most places, it's seasonal) or most lucrative work.  Learning the bicycle inside and out at a place like UBI can help someone prepare for other work in the bicycle industry, whether as a shop owner or for companies like QBP.

In fact, what's being offered isn't just a "mechanic's scholarship", as some of the bicycle press has reported. Rather, it's a Professional Repair and Shop Operation curriculum.

The only qualification, aside from gender identity, for a candidate is current employment in a bike shop in the US or any of its territories.  The employment needn't be paid:  interns, volunteers and trainees will also be considered.  Thus, I imagine, someone working in a community recycle-a-bicycle program would be a candidate. 

The deadline to apply is 2 November.

The 32 women who win the scholarships will attend the February 2019 classes in either of UBI's Oregon campuses. (Ashland and Portland)  

If you are one of the lucky ones, there's a chance that one of your instructors will be B Vivit, who graduated from the course last year.

B Vivit (left) at UBI's school

At that time, she was the floor manager at Huckleberry Cycles in San Francisco.  After the course ended, she was giving feedback to some of the instructors via text. "They recommended I apply to teach," she said, "because they overheard me helping other students and teaching during class."

That sounds like as much of an endorsement as any:  The course uncovered a talent a student could contribute to, not only the UBI, but the world of cycling generally.  After all, to paraphrase someone whose name I won't mention, it isn't just about the bike.

Oh, by the way, Park Tool, one of the sponsors of the scholarship, supplies each participant with a travel tool kit she can take home with her.

More Than Green Paint In Beantown

In which American city do motorists spend the most time in bumper-to-bumper traffic?

Hint:  It's not New York.  Or Los Angeles.  Or any other city in California.  And it's not Chicago or Detroit, either.

That distinction goes to Boston.  Residents of Beantown wouldn't be surprised:  After all, their city has long had a reputation for having some of the worst traffic in the United States.

It's such that fellow New Yorkers are amazed when I tell them I've cycled in Boston.  More than one Big Apple cyclist has told me he or she would never, ever ride in the New England hub. "Those drivers are crazy!," they exclaim.

My response is usually along the lines of, "Well, yes, you do have to exercise caution, just like you would in any other city."

One thing I have to say about Boston cyclists, though:  They have grown very sophisticated about cycling infrastructure.  No longer are they satisfied with the "green paint on the side of the road" approach to bike lanes.

Now Causeway Street, a major connection between the North and West Ends (and, until 2004, the site of one of the city's main elevated train lines), has a bike lane running down its center, separated from the east- and west-bound traffic lanes by concrete barriers.  This could be very important to commuters and recreational cyclists alike, as it links to the Connect Historic Boston bike path and ends with the New England Aquarium.

Also, the upcoming redesign of Commonwealth Avenue near Boston University will include bike lanes built into wide sidewalks and separated from cars:  an arrangement common in Europe.  The redesign will also eliminate a flaw such lanes have in other American locales:  At intersections, concrete platforms will be built between the bike path and auto lanes.  This is intended to force drivers to take slower, wider right turns.

Speaking of turns: The city's first bike rotary is under construction at a point (near the MBTA Forest Hills station) where new bike paths intersect with the city's Southwest Corridor path.  As Boston Globe reporter Adam Vaccaro wryly notes, it remains to be seen whether cyclists behave better in their rotaries than motorists do in theirs.  (That sounds like something a Bostonian would say.)

And, for traffic management, traffic signals for cyclists are also under construction.  I've seen a few here in New York.  In theory, they are a good idea, especially where bike lanes intersect with major roadways.  One problem I've seen is on the lane I often use when commuting to work:  It's a two-way lane for cyclists, but the street that runs alongside it is a one-way.  This creates problems when you are cycling in the opposite direction from the traffic:  The bike signal isn't always in sync with the cars, many of which are coming off the nearby expressway.  I hope the Boston planners are mindful of such things.

So far, it all sounds pretty ambitious and forward-thinking.  I am very interested to see how the new lanes, barriers and signals work.

Lime In The Queen City Of The Southern Tier

If you have ever wondered what La Belle Siffleuse did, take a listen:




I mention Alice Shaw, not because she might be one of the world's few whistling virtuosas or for making one of the earliest known sound recordings, but because she hails from the same town where a fellow named Samuel Langhorne Clemens is buried.

How did Mark Twain end up in the ground in Elmira, New York?  The short explanation is that his wife's family had a plot (which couldn't have made him too happy) in the city's Woodlawn Cemetery.

Other justly and unjustly famous people have come from self-proclaimed Queen City of the Southern Tier. In more recent years, this city hard by the Pennsylvania border has fallen on hard times:  It now has less than half of the population it had in 1950, when it was a center for both manufacturing--which declined in the region--and railroads, which declined and nearly died everywhere in the US.  As if those losses weren't bad enough, it's been said that the city never recovered from the flood of 1972, which decimated residential as well as industrial areas.

I mention the city's hardships, not to denigrate it, but to highlight something it has in common with other areas that have a service that's about to come to Elmira.

I'm talking about Lime Bikes, the dockless sharing service with green bikes you just can't miss.  This summer, I saw them along the Rockaway Peninsula--both in the popular beach areas and in Far Rockaway, a long-depressed area where high-rise public housing looms over rather forlorn (but still, in their own way, charming) bungalows.  I also saw Lime Bikes in Yonkers, which has its share of affluent neighborhoods that fit the stereotype of Westchester County but also areas like Getty Square, which locals have dubbed "Ghetto Square" because of crime and general seediness.

I know that Lime can be found in thriving upscale (or, at least, young and hip) communities in other parts of the US.  But it's interesting to see them in poorer areas more established share services like Citibike seem to shun.  Lime also is making inroads into college campuses which, like the neighborhoods I've mentioned, are full of people who don't have a lot of disposable income. 

Adapting By Bicycle

I have never ridden a recumbent bicycle.  Perhaps I will one day.  My major concern with them is visibility, especially as I do much of my riding in heavily-trafficked urban areas.

I do, however, see the value of them.  Some claim they are more efficient and comfortable.  Certainly, I can see the value of them for some people with physical ailments and disabilities.

That point became clearer to me after an article I read about a ride to raise funds for disabled veterans.  

On Sunday, normally-abled cyclists joined their disabled peers on the Two Top Adaptive Sports Foundation's inaugural Bike for Disabled Vets fundraiser.  Among them were Igor and Olga Titovets of North Potomac, Maryland.  They pedaled along the Western Maryland Rail Trail--she with her legs, he with her arms.

His legs are in braces.  This means that, while he can use a foot-powered recumbent bicycle, it is difficult for him to climb hills with it.  Instead, he rides a model powered by his arms.

Igor Titovets

Titovets' participation in the event is emblematic of the ride's purpose, and Two Top's work.  The non-profit Foundation, based in Mercersburg, Pennsylvania, provides disabled veterans and their families lessons in adaptive sports like cycling, skiing and water skiing. The lessons are by reservation, and the group has a fleet of 22 bicycles.

They are, of course, recumbent, because that is pretty much the only kind of bike that can be adapted to hand power.  Plus, it can be adapted in other configurations to accommodate people with a wide variety of disabilities.

  

David and Jo Ann Bachand

The Titovets' participation--and that of another couple, David and Jo Ann Bachand--underscores another important point:  that adaptive bicycles can help disabled veterans--whose population has grown with the ongoing war in Afghanistan and the Iraq invasion--cope with their disabilities.  By extension, cycling and other adaptive sports can also help them cope with their post-military lives:  Some of them had been in uniform practically from the day they left school.

From A Eugenicist To A Bicycle Advocate: A School Is Renamed

During the past few years, all sorts of things have happened that I never thought I'd see in my lifetime.  

Here's another:  a middle school named after a bike advocate.

Really.  That school was commemorated yesterday at the ninth annual Bike Palo Alto.  

The school's namesake, Ellen Fletcher, served for many years as a councilwoman in the San Francisco Bay Area city.  Her advocacy is widely credited for making Palo Alto one of the most "welcoming" American cities for cyclists:  She campaigned, successfully, for safer bike paths and bridges in a community where over 40 percent of middle schoolers choose to pedal to school.

Ellen Fletcher, at the dedication of the bike boulevard bearing her name, in 2002.

With a role model like her, how could they not?  She owned a car--a 1964 Plymouth Valiant--but almost never used it.  In fact, she continued riding, both for transportation and recreation,until a year before she succumbed to lung cancer at age 83 in 2012.

Born in Berlin, she lived in a series of Jewish orphanages after her parents divorced. When the Nazis came to power, she and her father were deported because he was a Polish citizen.  They were slated to go to his native land, but was able to get to London through the Kindertransport program.  

A year before she died, she recalled seeing "everyone" biking in England.  She shared the enthusiasm the Brits had for cycling at that time and brought it with her to New York, where she emigrated--at age 17-- in 1946 and enrolled in Hunter College. There, she said, she was "the only one who had a bike on campus" and rode it year-round.

Shortly after graduating, she moved to the Bay Area and continued riding in one of the few areas of the US with a measurable number of adult cyclists.    Almost from the beginning, she was determined to put the bicycle on the radar of policy makers who, as she aptly noted, "were almost exclusively focused on cars." 

One of the early fruits of her labor came in 1982, when Bryant Street opened as the "Bike Boulevard."  It was renamed in her honor two decades later.

Palo Alto Bike, fittingly, followed Ellen Fletcher Bicycle Boulevard.  I don't know which Bryant was honored with the street, but the school renamed for her originally bore the name of Lewis Terman.  While his studies on giftedness and how intelligence influences health outcomes and other kinds of success made real contributions to psychology, his legacy is tainted for his advocacy of eugenics. 

Although there can be no justice for the Holocaust, I think there is some small measure of cosmic recompense in seeing a school named for him renamed for someone who might have fallen victim to beliefs he advocated.