How Long Would It Take You To Ride To The Moon?

As a teenager, I followed the journey of John Rakowski, who rode his bicycle around the globe.  In all, it took him three years to pedal through every continent except Antarctica.

Up to that time, one other journey so captured my imagination:  the Apollo 11 flight.  Exactly fifty years ago on this date, Neil Armstrong alighted from the space capsule and became the first human to set foot on the moon.

I must say, though, that the moon landing didn't sustain my interest in the same way Rakowski's trip did, mainly because the trip from Cape Canaveral to the lunar surface took only four days, and a few days later, Armstrong and fellow astronauts Buzz Aldrin (who followed in Armstrong's steps) and Michael Collins returned. 

Moreover, you couldn't escape (even if you wanted to) seeing or hearing about Apollo 11:  literally everything else, from Bewitched to ballgames, was pre-empted for moment-by-moment coverage of the event.  It really took no effort to follow the moon mission.  On the other hand, the only news, it seemed, you could get about Rakowski's trip was his serialized accounts in Bicycling!, which came out every month.

I mention him and the astronauts today because of an interesting Wired article.  Rhett Allain is a physicist who can actually explain his work in terms that folks like me can understand.  Heck, he's even entertaining.  But what makes his article so wonderful is that he takes a seemingly idle question (which, I admit, I have pondered) and answers it in a way that makes the process of scientific research comprehensible and fascinating while showing its complexities.

The question is this:  How long would it take to ride a bicycle to the moon?  The short answer is 267 days, but that assumes that the cyclist weighs 75 kg (165 pounds) and puts out the same amount of energy as a Tour de France cyclist would--for 24 hours a day.  He acknowledges that such a combination of factors is impossible, and that other things come into play, such as what sort of cable or other contraption would serve as the rider's route between worlds and a bicycle capable of being ridden on it.

One thing that's great about Dr. Allain's article is that it reveals just how complicated a task it was to land humans on the moon, and why accomplishing it little more than six years after JFK's proclamation was nothing short of miraculous.

Fifth Avenue: Downhill In The Slope

Alert:  The video includes footage of a truck striking a cyclist.

This one hits close to home--no pun intended!

When I lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn, I cycled along Fifth Avenue nearly every day.   Those weren't my "fun" rides--far more pleasant streets and Prospect Park were close by--but I did much of my shopping, as well as a number of errands on Fifth.  

Then--the '90's and early '00s--the Avenue was lined with small shops of all kinds.  Some had been in the same family for a couple of generations; others were owned by young people who sold the sorts of books, clothes and music you wouldn't find in "big box" stores.  As the avenue is narrow, traffic could be congested and chaotic, but there was at least some level of respect between drivers--many of whom were making deliveries--and cyclists and pedestrians.   So, even though there was no bike lane, I never worried while threading through traffic and parked vans.

Fifth Avenue still doesn't have a bike lane, protected or otherwise.  I still ride there occasionally, but my recent experiences confirm something I've heard from other cyclists--and read in a news report:  Drivers aren't good about sharing the road.

Those accounts also confirm something else I've experienced on Fifth Avenue and elsewhere:  Some of the most reckless riders are on Citibikes.  A police officer has said as much to me:  When he sees someone with earbuds blowing through a red light, or making a careless turn, there's a good chance he (Sorry guys, they're usually young men!) is on one of those blue share bikes.

Such was the case Tuesday morning, when a Citibiker cut across traffic in both directions--against a red signal--and was hit by a truck. 

 

While the cyclist in question--identified only as a 39-year-old man--is expected to survive, he was knocked unconscious and suffered serious injuries.   The crumpled Citibike was still on the side of the road during the evening rush hour.


Now, I might sound like one of those New Yorkers who blames tourists for everything she doesn't like, but I really believe that, to some degree, Citibike has made cycling--and, for that matter, walking--less safe than it was.  While some commuters ride Citibikes, more are used by people who are in town for a day or a few days and are not accustomed to riding here or are just more careless because they figure they won't be here long enough to have to face the consequences of their actions.  

To be fair, similar things could be said about many of the drivers found along Park Slope's Fifth Avenue today.  They come and go:  There's a good chance that the one you see today (or tonight), you'll never see again.   In contrast, I used to see the same delivery drivers, as well cyclists and pedestrians,  several times a week, if not every day.  In other words, those folks were, in essence if not in fact, friends and neighbors. That, I believe, is a reason why drivers, even if they didn't understand cyclists, didn't harbor or express the kind of hostility we often experience today.

Oh, and it's a lot easier to see cyclists as "them" when their bikes all look--or are--the same.  

That said, I hope the fellow who was struck on Fifth Avenue recovers--and that he and the drivers he encounters are more mindful of each other.

When A Motorist Pays For Endangering A Cyclist

As I've recounted in several (too many!) posts, cyclists are struck, or even killed, by motorists--and not much happens to the motorist.  If anything, the motorist is given tea and sympathy, and the cyclist is blamed for his or her own misfortune, even if the motorist was clearly violating the law. 

What does it take to hold a lawless driver to account?

I think the answer might have just come from San Antonio, Texas:  when the cyclist in question is a police officer on patrol.  

On the evening of 29 June, two San Antonio officers were patrolling the area around Cattleman's Square on bicycles.  They noticed a vehicle that made a turn without signaling and followed it until it stopped a few blocks later.  

One of the officers walked up to the driver, 22-year-old Jonathan Ray Martinez, and asked him to identify himself as the other officer parked his bicycle in front of the car Martinez was driving.  

Jonathan Ray Martinez

The officer who parked his bike noticed that Martinez was reaching into the center console and looked nervous.  Believing that Martinez might attack, he reached into the car to grab Martinez's hands.  He couldn't get a hold, and Martinez started to drive away.

The officer's arm was hit, and his bicycle was run over.  Another officer, in a car, started to chase, but lost, Martinez.  San Antonio police, however,  were able to link him to the incident through the license plate.  

Martinez was charged with aggravated assault on a public servant and was booked on an unrelated assault warrant.  His bail totaled $57,000.

Although I sometimes complain about the way police officers treat us, I am glad that the officer who tried to stop Martinez wasn't more seriously injured, and that Martinez is being punished for endangering a cyclist's life with a deadly weapon (his car).  But the cynic (or realist?) in me says that he would have gotten off with a lighter penalty had the person on the bicycle not been a police officer.

When "On Your Left" Was A Right

Not long ago, suggesting that I equip any of my bikes with a horn or bell would have elicited the same response from me as saying that I should give up my cat, my books--or, of course, my bikes themselves.  No "superfluous accessory"---and, thinking like the testosterone-besotted youth I was, "accessories" were, by definition, "superfluous" (As a woman, my thinking has definitely changed!) --would ever beclutter any of my sleek, beautiful machines. Or even the ugly ones I parked on the street.

Another rationale for my refusal to add the 140 extra grams (That's just a wild guess.  I've never actually weighed a bell or horn!) to my pride and joy is that, like most humans, I was born with effective signaling devices,  the main ones being located between my head and chest, and at the ends of my wrists.  Moreover, my voice and hands (specifically, fingers; even more specifically, one finger in particular) could communicate nuance that no brass, aluminum or plastic device ever could.  Plus, I could yell some version of "On Your Left!" in about four or five languages.  

Ray Keener, who's close to my age, is wondering, "Ou sont le OYL d'antan?"  As he notes, back "in our 52-42/13-21 days", we passed other cyclists (many, I admit, older than ourselves) rather frequently.  Whether we were on secluded paths or in city traffic, shouting "On Your Left!" was a common courtesy.  More important, it kept riders from being spooked and making sudden moves when approached.

Now, those of us who are "of a certain age" find that we are passed more frequently.  But that verbal custom seems to have gone by the wayside.  A few cyclists use horns, bells or other signaling devices.  As often as not, however, younger and faster cyclists silently slip by us.  Worse, some of those passers are on electric cycles, which are even quieter than most regular bicycles.

Interestingly, pedestrians seem more baffled than anything else when they hear a bike bell.  I guess that, if anything, they expect us to howl, "Watch out!" or something less suited to a blog intended for general audiences.

I think the trend Mr. Keener and I have noted is part of a larger phenomenon.  (I hate that last clause, but it works.)  It seems that, at least in large US cities, people are less aurally attuned to their surroundings in general. Today, you see lots of people, especially the young, walking, running, cycling or skateboarding with earbuds.  

This trend began, I believe, with the widespread use of the Walkman. When those devices first came to market, they were a way to hear your favorite music wherever you were, whatever you were doing.  They soon turned into a way to shut out the environment:   Not only could  you listen to Culture Club or whoever while you were running; you didn't have to listen to traffic or parents yelling at their kids.

So, I think Ray Keener is right in noting that "On Your Left!" is a common courtesy that, well, isn't so common anymore.  He doesn't blame the Walkman or technology in general. Rather, as he observes, "riders going 8MPH faster than me aren't in my space long enough for a verbal cue to work."  His solution:  "Get a bell."  You know, I rather like them:  The brass ones from Japan are as pretty as they sound.  Of course, if you're a weight weenie, there are titanium bells.

Then again, if you're a real weight weenie, just remember that you already have built-in signaling devices!

A Moment Of Fame And Fortune

In my youth (Yes, I once had that!), a couple of my poems were published in a small magazine.  It was a big deal to me, and I thought it would lead to fame, if not fortune.  Still, I was surprised when a stranger on the street recognized me as “the poet.”  I blushed.  “I’m not the only one,” I demurred.  

“But you’re going to be The One.  You’re going to be famous—and rich.”

He even said something about becoming a millionaire.  “Well, not many people become millionaires from poetry. Or even thousandaires.”  At that point in my life, I wasn’t even a hundredaire.

These days, I am just as surprised as I was then when a total stranger recognizes me.  If anything, I reassure myself that the statute of limitations has run out for anything I did—and I am a different person, literally, from the one I was—in my wayward, footloose days. 

Such concern, however, we’re unwarranted yesterday, as I was spinning along the Rockaway Boardwalk, when a young man pedaled up to me. “I read your blog!”

Turns out, Luca was on the return leg of a ride to Point Lookout.  So was I.  He had a bit further to go, though:  to Jersey City, where he manages Jersey Cycles.  He’s an “alumnus,” if you will, of a few area bike shops I’ve frequented.

Some of those shops have been taken over by Danny’s, a regional chain.  We talked a bit about the business: It’s tougher than most people realize.  And it’s changed in all sorts of ways. It occurred to me later that it might account for his, and my, tastes in bikes—and blogs.  In particular, he mentioned “The Retrogrouch.”

You might say that my encounter with Luca was a momentary brush with fame.  Ironically, he revealed a way I might’ve attained fortune.  One of the shops in which he worked was part of the Metro chain, which became part of Danny’s.  The entrepreneur who started those shops, Luca said, “was all about real estate.  He didn’t care about bikes.”  Hmm...Had I understood that when I had opportunities to open up a bike or book store, I might have retired by now.

Still, I’m glad I didn’t.  Although I wouldn’t mind having more money, I’m not sure about having a fortune.  As for fame—moments of it are fine, at least if the recognition comes from someone as cool as Luca.

Is This What She Signed Up For?

You're a law student in your home country.  You sign up for a "work and travel" program so you can experience life in another land. In your case, that land is the US.

You find yourself working in a Dunkin' Donuts.  Pretty typical American experience, right? (Hey, I did it!)  But unlike many other Americans, you don't drive.  So you get to work on your bicycle.  You also explore the city in which you're spending your American sojourn on two wheels.

That is, until you can't--because you've had an all-too-typical American experience:  Your bike was stolen.  

What happened next to Nichcha "Ziggy" Tansakul is something she probably could no more have imagined than the theft of her bike when she was studying in her native Thailand.

She and her fellow Dunkin' Donuts workers called the police in Wareham, Massachusetts, the town where she's living and working.  Traffic enforcement officer Jamie White took the call.  He made a few calls, and soon he was buying her a new bike, and School Resource Officer picked up a locking device that is, hopefully, more secure than whatever she had been using.

Add caption

Later, other police officers gathered at the Dunkin' Donuts with some of Tansakul's co-workers.  Officer White brought her to the shop to present her with the new bike, lock and good wishes.

On Bastille Day, C'est Une Vie De Chien

I've cycled around la ronde of the Place de la Bastille more than a few times.  The first time, I did it because, well, it's the Place de la Bastille: As I circled around la Colonne de Juillet (July Column), several years before the Bastille Opera house was constructed, I tried to imagine a mob storming a prison and leveling it--and the Marquis de Sade escaping, even if that part of the story isn't true.

So it's not hard for me to associate bicycles with Bastille Day.  But a chihuahua?  

Hmm...Chihuahuas bark in Spanish, right?  So it couldn't be too hard to get this fellow to bark, "Joyeuse Bastille, mes amis!" 

Thank Billie Valentine for that adorable image.  Bikes and chihuahuas: at least they aren't tanks.

Cyclists' Safety: It Became Personal For Her

Yesterday, I wrote about how a beloved member of his cycling community is being commemorated:  The University of Texas at San Antonio opened the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop in a former information booth.

The reason why he's being commemorated is, unfortunately, terrible:  He was killed by an intoxicated driver while riding his bike.

Sometimes, it seems, it takes the death of a cyclist or pedestrian to bring the issue home and spur people into action--that is, when someone isn't trying to blame the cyclist, or cyclists in general, even if the driver was drunk, high, distracted or driving with a suspended license (or no license at all).  

For Chesley Ann Epley Cobbs (Does that sound like a Southern name, or what?), the issue of safety came home, literally, when her brother was killed while riding his bicycle in Oklahoma City.  


As personal as the issue is for her, she made the point that cyclists' safety is vital to the redevelopment of her city.  "Having safe and protected bike lanes connecting our downtown communities secures the safety of getting to and from those places of well-being and entertainment that you are working so hard to build and elevate our great state," she said in a hearing at City Hall.

She found a receptive audience in at least two City Council members.  One, Jo Beth Hamon, described rides that "should take minutes" but take much longer because "going through the neighborhoods, there was no connection" between bike lanes.  As a result, she had to cross major thoroughfares, including a highway, to take what is a typical days' ride for her.

Another Council Member, James Cooper, connected the safety of cyclists and pedestrians to the overall livability of the city.  In addition to a lack of cycling infrastructure, he said that sidewalks are unsafe "in even our most walkable neighborhood, award-winning neighborhood."  He wondered how "a child" could "get safely to school, to a park" in the conditions he described.

Add caption

The Council members and Ms. Epley Cobbs spoke at a public proposal meeting on how to spend public funding earmarked for public facilities.  I hope that others in the decision-making process--in other places as well as Oklahoma City--understand what Ms. Epley Cobbs, Ms. Hamon and Mr. Cooper are trying to say:  Ensuring the safety of people who get around without motor vehicles is a vital part of a modern city's development, or redevelopment.  

Tito Bradshaw: Keeping Up His Memory, And Work

Every community needs to memorialize its heroes, advocates, champions and friends.  In that way, we in the cycling community are no different.

We're not (at least here in the US) yet at the point of having monuments, buildings, streets, plazas or even corners named after bicycling advocates.  But we may be moving in that direction, if in small ways and a few locations.

One of those locales is San Antonio--specifically, the University of Texas campus in that city.  There, an old information booth has been turned into the Tito Bradshaw Bicycle Repair Shop.

Tito Bradshaw/. Photo by Scott Ball.

Now, the fact that a campus structure has been re-purposed as a bicycle repair shop shows us that the bicycling community has some sort of presence at the school.  Just as important, the fact that it's been named after Tito Bradshaw means that at least some people within that community--and at least a few outside it--know about his work as an activist and the owner of Bottom Bracket Bicycle Shop.

Plans to convert the booth into a repair shop were already in the works when, in May, he was struck and killed by an intoxicated  driver while riding his bicycle.  He was only 35 years old.  Now, we can hope, his work and community spirit will continue--and expand.

Cyclists on bridge memorialize Tito Bradshaw. Photo by Bonnie Arbitter.

She's 14. And She's Black. That Can Only Mean....

Mary Barton found herself lying on the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

She rode her bike on someone's property. Or so the owner of said property said.  Said property owner called the police.  Two officers showed up.  One of them told her she could leave, but the second officer told her to stop.

Officer #2 claimed the bike was stolen and demanded identification.  She said she didn't have to produce it  (Apparently, she was paying attention in her civics class!) and, furthermore, the bike is hers and she's had it since December.  Then the cop pulled out his pepper spray and told her to call her mom. 

Mary Burton is 14 years old.  If you haven't already watched the video, you might have guessed that she's black.  Oh, and she's in North Little Rock, Arkansas.

Her brother, a year older, rushes to her aid and both are up against the police car.  Mary fell to the ground, her hands cuffed behind her.

Well, I guess those cops at least believe in gender equality:  Usually, it's the guys who get stopped for riding a bicycle (or driving) while black.