There's nothing like cycling in France (or even my memories of it) to make my heart sing. And even though one has to contend with traffic and other inconveniences one encounters in other large cities, cyclists in Paris are at least not seen as freaks or intruders, and are treated with respect.
Still, there are some streets in the City of Light that aren't for the faint of heart. One of them, until recently, was the Rue de Rivoli. Of course, no trip to Paris is complete without a walk or ride along its most famous streets, which runs from rue de Sevigne (near the Place de la Bastille) to the Place de la Concorde, and includes the Louvre, Tuilieries gardens, Le Marais and numerous hotels, restaurants, stores and bakeries tucked into dazzling belle epoque buildings. I have cycled this route, one of the first "straight-arrow" streets in Paris, numerous time. But I must say that I wasn't intimidated because I've cycled Fifth Avenue, Broadway and other major venues in my hometown, as well as some of the major arteries of other major cities.
Now I wish I were there: It's closed to traffic. That closure is part of Mayor Anne Hidalgo's efforts to encourage cycling and walking, particularly as the Metro and buses are running on COVID pandemic-induced restrictions. "I would like there to be an axis dedicated exclusively to bikes and another reserved only for buses, taxis, emergency vehicles and craftsmens' vehicles, but not cars," she told reporters.
Mayor Hidalgo has said that the closure will continue through the summer, but could be made permanent.
Yesterday I took a late ride out to Point Lookout.
It was a CBC day: clear, breezy and cool--with the emphasis on all three. The sky was as bright as the day was brisk. When I crossed the Veterans' Memorial Bridge from Broad Channel to the Rockaways, the temperature, already chilly for the time of year, seemed to drop by about ten degrees.
The season's first hurricane tacked east just when it was forecast to brush across the mid-Atlantic coast. So we were spared a deluge, but gifted the wind, which blew from exactly the right part of southeast so that I pedaled into it all the way from my apartment to the rocks.
And I was pedaling into the wind, which at times gusted to 60 KPH (37-38 MPH), blew from exactly the right part of the southeast so that I was pedaling into it all the way from my apartment to the rocks.
In a way though, it was a "perfect storm": The ride home was a breeze (pun intended). But along the way, in both directions, the tides washed over the sand in the Rockaways and the rocks at Point Lookout.
The shower was invigorating, but I might've liked it more had the day just been a bit warmer.
Still, it was a perfect storm for a ride.
Many moons ago, during my "Ayn Rand phase," I was trying to understand how markets, and the stock market, worked. During that time, I chanced upon a book by someone (whose name I've forgotten) lost all of his money--and some he borrowed from relatives--in the stock market while it was at record highs.
I forget which stocks, exactly, he bet on and lost. I have to credit him, however, with this: He helped me to realize, at a tender age, that the stock market really isn't much different from a casino. Years later, during the boom of the 1980s, I would come to learn that many of those gamblers in expensive suits were coke (and I'm not talking about The Real Thing) addicts.
Still, it's interesting to ponder the question of why some prosper during hard times while others who seem to be doing all the right things fail just when conditions seem right for their success.
In the latter category is General Motors. I'm not going to talk about their 2009 bankruptcy which, along with the insolvency of Chrysler Motors, almost turned the crisis of 2008 into a full-blown depression. Rather, I am going to mention their latest ill-fated move: Their entry into the e-bike market.
Late in 2018, GM announced its electric bike program with a flashy contest to name the e-bike. From it, the name "Ariv" emerged and was introduced in February 2019. GM offered two models: The Ariv Meld was an electric bike, while the Ariv Merge was the same bike with a folding mechanism.
Both bikes were made to comply with Europe's strict e-bike regulations, which meant that they had no hand throttle (like you'd find on a motorcycle) and instead were equipped with four levels of pedal assist. In further compliance with European mandates, the bikes had a top speed of 25 km/hr (about 15.5 mph). In the lowest power mode, the Ariv battery had a potential range of 64 kilometers (40 miles).
General Motors has just announced that it will cease manufacturing of Arivs. While GM blames COVID-19's effects on their bottom line for their decision, I suspect other factors were at play. One could be the price of those bikes: 2800 Euros (about 3060 USD at today's rates) for the Meld and 3400 Euros (3710 USD) for the Merge in Belgium and the Netherlands. Even if the quality of those machines were commensurate with their prices, not many people, particularly first-time buyers (who, at this point, are still most of the market) would want to spend that much. And not many delivery people, I imagine, could afford them.
Also, I imagine not many people would want to spend that much money on a bike with small wheels--unless it's a Brompton. My own amateur observation leads me to believe that there is not much "crossover" between the market for Bromptons (or, for that matter, less-expensive folding bikes like the Dahon) and the market for electric bikes.
Arivs, as far as I know, were sold only in Europe. There were plans to sell modified versions that could go 20 mph (33 kph) for the USA, but I don't know whether any such bikes were made or sold. I think, based on my amateur observation, that the bike would have needed larger-diameter wheels to succeed in America.
Anyway, GM pulling out of the e-bike market has not deterred other automotive companies, such as BMW and Skoda (a Czech automaker popular in Europe if little-known in the US) from working to develop their own electric bikes and scooters. Spanish carmaker Seat, meanwhile, has recently launched their own micromobility (the name of the category that includes e-bikes and scooters) offerings.
"Like a mother who lost her child."
I am sure many of you would feel that way if your bicycle went missing. Whether the bike is a means of everyday transportation or has transported you across a continent, you are probably as protective of it as a parent of his or her progeny.
Patricia McNeil, a stroke survivor who lives in the Florida Panhandle, certainly is feeling such a loss. Her black Trek took her across the country twice and served as her sole means of transportation. In Florida, the latter is really saying something and is one reason why she logged over 40,000 miles on it in two years.
She left her machine in the foyer of a local Target. It's not the first time she parked her bike there and whenever she left the store, she retrieved her bike--until last Wednesday, that is.
Security footage confirmed that the bike was indeed stolen--by a local male who "looks like actor Paul Walker" and has a sleeve tatoo on his left arm. It sounds to me that he knew about McNeil and her bike and the theft was a crime of opportunity.
Anyway, I hope he is apprenhended and Ms. McNeil gets her bike back. Nobody deserves to lose her child.
Today I won't do a "Sunday funny." Instead, I'll share something that is lovely, or at least charming.
This house stands on King Steet in New Rochelle, near the Mercy College (formerly College of New Rochelle) campus. I pass it almost every time I ride home from Connecticut, as I did on Wednesday.
Lilacs on a lilac house. It's a visual respite from the gloom of pandemics and lockdown.
