A New Hazard In The COVID-19 Bike Boom

The good and bad news about the pandemic....

That does seem like an odd phrase, doesn't it?  Well, in the two years-plus since COVID-19 hijacked the world,  there was at least one positive development, at least related to cycling:  more of us are doing it.  I have at least a little bit of hope every time someone mounts a saddle and pedals.  I have a little more when someone rides again.  Of course, that has made bikes, parts and accessories difficult to find--and far more expensive than they were.  

The bad news?  More riders has meant more riders being injured and killed.  The pandemic has derailed "Vision Zero" initiatives here in New York and in other cities:  The goal of no more pedestrian and cyclist fatalities, toward which cities were trending, however slowly, seems even further out of reach than it was when those initiatives started.

Most of the attention has been on cyclists who were struck by motorists.  They, of course, accounted for the vast majority of casualties.  But an increasing number of us have fallen victim to an even-more disturbing trend.

Oscar Gaytan is one of them.  The award-winning nurse from the Duarte area of Los Angeles attended a Dodger game Monday night.  He was, apparently, riding to an LA Metro station Monday night when someone pulled him off his bike and pushed him to the ground. He was found early Tuesday morning, dead, from head injuries.

Police have declared they are conducting a homicide investigation and are seeking a man between 30 and 40 years old who fled on foot.  Duarte community members have organized a GoFundMe page to help his family pay for funeral services.

I have been hearing and reading about an increasing number of such incidents--or ones in which a cyclist is knocked down while riding.  The assaults are, of course, serious.  But, in addition to injuring riders, they also have the potential to put us in even greater danger, especially if we're attacked on a street or a streetside bike lane, from traffic.  I became all-too-aware of that danger a year and a half ago, when a driver flung her door into my side and sent me sprawling into the street, where another driver stopped inches from running over me.

So, while it's important to look at ways to eliminate fatal encounters between cyclists and motorists, it's also important to treat seemingly-random assaults as what they are.  It's hard not to think that Oscar Gaytan's death was a hate crime because of his ethnicity.  But I think that even if he were whiter than I am, he could've been the victim of another kind of hate: the kind some feel against us for taking "their" streets and parking spaces when bike lanes or built, or who simply for what they believe we, as cyclists, represent.  

Parking Patrols In Philadelphia

 Yesterday fit almost anybody’s definition of a perfect Spring day: warm (but not too), sunny, with enough wind to toss the hair hanging below my helmet.  I decided to take a ride I hadn’t taken in a while:  across the George Washington Bridge and down the Palisades.

To get to the Bridge, I followed another route I hadn’t pedaled in a while:  up the Park Avenue bike lane that runs alongside the Metro North tracks in the Bronx.

At least, I tried to.  At 170th Street, construction work closed off the path for part of a block.  That meant veering into the single lane of traffic, which consisted mainly of delivery and car service vehicles, all driven by folks tense and angry.  

After that detour, the lane was clear for about half a block—until I encountered a few vehicles parked in the lane.  Another detour, about 50 meters of clear lane, more parked cars.  Rinse and repeat for a couple more blocks until East Tremont Avenue, where an ambulance and fire department truck screamed through the intersection.  Two of the drivers by whom I’d been zigging and zagging shot through just before the emergency vehicles. The ones who couldn’t make it through—who were beside and behind me—honked their horns and cursed in a couple of languages I understand, and a couple I don’t.

Finally, I gave up on that lane and turned left on Tremont, which took me to University Heights and the old aqueduct, commonly known as the “High Bridge” into Upper Manhattan, not far from the GWB.

I thought about writing to or calling the city Department of Transportation but realized that my email probably wouldn’t be opened, or my call answered, unless I sent photos—and I hadn’t taken any.  But, coincidentally, I came across this story from Philadelphia:  The city’s Parking Authority is adding bike patrols specifically to monitor drivers who park illegally in bike lanes.

“Just look around. Parked all the time, makes the bike lanes pretty useless,” said cyclist Nic Reynard.  He explained—as I saw on yesterday’s ride—that having to move out of a blocked lane can be even more dangerous than riding without a bike lane because “I don’t know what the car next to me is going to do.”

The new patrols, therefore, are just one step in making cities safer for cyclists—and pedestrians and drivers. Streets themselves need to be more amenable to everyone, and greater awareness of cyclists and cycling must be fostered in drivers. And law enforcement officials need to take incidents of motorists maiming or killing cyclists—which, with increasing frequency, are deliberate acts—seriously.

Fixie-ing A Ron Kit

 Every once in a while, I'll see another cyclist astride a Mercian.  About as often, I'll encounter somoene riding a Bob Jackson, Ron Cooper, Hetchins or Holdsworth.  While a significant part of those builders' work made its way to the United States, the segment of the cycling world who rides any high-end bike is actually very small. And each of those builders probably made fewer frames in a year than Raleigh or other manufacturers produced in a day.

It never occured to me, however, that one less-known (among cycling enthusisasts, let alone the general public) marque would be even rarer, at least here in the US, simply because I hadn't seen it here--until yesterday.  And I encountered it in a way I hadn't expected--but, upon reflection, makes perfect sense.

For three decades, Ron Kitching's catalogue was a kind of Whole Earth Catalogue for British cyclists.  He was the chief UK importer of well-known manufacturers like Cinelli and Specialites TA, and he introduced English riders to Shimano and SunTour.  The latter reflected part of his philosophy of offering products that offered high quality and good value for the money.  That ethos was also reflected in parts and accessories he imported, mainly from France and Italy and rebranded as "Milremo." 

Unless you've spent time perusing his catalogues, you might not realize (or might have forgotten) that he also sold high quality frames under his own name. The best of them were constructed, like most high-end British frames of the time, of Reynolds 531 tubing  by builders such as Arthur Metcalf and Wes Mason.  In fact, for a time, frames were sold under the "MKM" marque, with the middle initial representing the "silent" partner of Kiching between those of the builders.

I've seen, probably, a couple of MKM frames, as at least one mail-order company (Bike Warehouse, which became Bike Nashbar, comes to mind) offered them. But until yesterday, I hadn't seen one with Ron Kitching's name on it.

Finding it at all was surprising enough. But to see it only a kilometer from my apartmet--on 41st Street in Astoria--was even less anticipated. 

Should I have been surprised that it's in its current state?

It looks like it was intended as a long-distance race or audax bike, given its geometry--a race bike in its time, but more like an all-arounder today--and the lack of rack or fender eyelets on the dropouts.  So it makes sense as a single-speed or fixed-gear bike for the city:  It's probably responsive and maneuvarable, given its geometry and Reynolds 531 double-butted tubing and forks.

Yes, it's made in England.

Given how rare Ron Kitching bikes are in the US, I surmise that someone brought it with them in a move from England.  I'm also guessing that whoever brought it here gave or sold it to whoever is riding it now--who may or may not have any idea of the history behind it.