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No Ordinary Rides

4/29/2015

There are no ordinary rides. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes it's a close call I'd rather forget.

Today, I have an errand to run. I use that as an excuse to ride up to the tennis courts at 120th first, intending to do my errand on the way back.

I am stunned at the beauty around me; as surprised as if I'd never seen it before.

Trees flowering.

Clouds worthy of Magritte.

Kids skipping rope.

Up at the tennis courts, players are reuniting after a long hiatus.

I dawdle. This is the best part of the ride. I wish there were more riding like this on the Promenades. The path to the GWB is bumpy and filled with those Spandex Warriors who would be just as happy in a Velodrome (why don't we build them one?). I take a leisurely turn around the end of the Promenade.

And end up riding behind these guys.

I'm always a little conflicted at people riding two by two. On the one hand, it's an inconvenience and clogs up the bike lane. On the other, it's a friendly thing to do - something I'd like to be free to do myself, especially on a day like this. I'll pass them later, I'm in no hurry. We ride down the path and head under the West Side Highway...

And that's where it happens.

Now, I'm a very defensive rider. I signal. I call out "On your left," on a regular basis. I always check to see if anyone is coming up on my left if I'm about to pass. And now, I check my left not just once -

But twice, leaving time for the blue rider to pass, and leaving extra room on my right to account for unforeseen behavior (keep in mind the camera does not take in the full angle of the eye). So I am in the far left of the lane.

The next thing I know -

This guy is passing so close, I can feel his arm against my left sleeve as he hems the three of us in.

Guys like this are terrifying. He is skilled, and sometimes I fear these guys less than inexperienced riders. But he is riding for speed, and not defensively or he never would have made this move. Four days before the 5 Boro Bike Tour, and I could have wound up on the bottom of a 4-bike pile-up, losing not just that tour, but a lot more than that.

To my amazement, he shakes his head as he passes...

Baffled that I had the nerve to move into his path to begin with. It's the same behavior I've seen in Central Park with those Strava guys (it's always guys) yelling "coming through!" as they speed through cross walks filled with pedestrians. The guy was going too damn fast. The guys next to me are as horrified as I am.

The rest of the ride is a meditation on whether it's a good idea to cycle at all in NYC. The roads are bad. Add in the cars. And then you have unlicensed behavior like this (and no insurance). Something like this could be life changing for me.

I come home feeling physically great. I love cycling - everything about it. Everything except this. Is it worth it?

It's an open question right now. It's not till after I'm home for sometime that I remember anything about the errand.

4 Comments

Frustration

4/28/2015

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Overheard at the NYC Marathon (some 49,000 people back): “If everybody would just get out of my way, I could win this thing.” And that about sums up how it feels to be a cyclist these days.

Where once just the joy of taking to two wheels was enough, this year I am more ambitious – and I'm suffering as a result. I’ve paid my Winter dues, I’ve recovered from an injury – now I just want to ride.

But the City has other plans. Because guess what? It’s Pothole Season. Yep, it’s that time of year when we get to find out what was under all of that snow (besides what the dogs deposited). And it’s not pretty. Like a murder of crows or a clowder of cats, there should be a name for potholes when they appear in clumps like this. A buzzkill of potholes, perhaps?

The City has crews out to fix them (we are told), but it seems an impossible task. They’re everywhere. Certainly in Chelsea, where the only choice is often right down the center of the street.

And don't forget those tire suckers...

Worst of all, they show up in the one place we can ride freely: the Central Park Loop on the downhill (worse than it looks).

With a scant year of riding under my belt, I am beginning to note other choices that seem positively prejudicial against bikes. See a difference here?

And while we’re at it, whose idea was it to put a bike lane where all the manholes are?

Sigh. It’s all too much. Add to that, one ride in Midtown...

And it’s enough to make a cyclist feel totally unloved.

Then, just when I’m at my wit’s end with all this nonsense, comes a calendar reminder of an upcoming event that promises to celebrate bikes, and the people who love them: the annual Blessing Of The Bikes at The Cathedral Of St. John The Divine.

Courtesy Bicycle Shows US

Who could miss this?

Lola and I will be at The Cathedral (bringing back blessings for Lucille and Janet) before heading over to the Bike Expo where, after ogling every kind of bike accessory and new fangled gimmick on display (we’re sitting ducks for this and the exhibitors know it), we’ll be picking up our passes for the 5 Boro Bike Tour. Yes, we’re doing it!

Potholes and tourists, trucks and manholes – nothing will dim our spirits on this day. Cause this is a day that is totally about bikes – 32,000 of ‘em – and we’ll ride in all five boroughs.

I’m expecting a madhouse. I’m expecting the unexpected – and I’ll surely get it. But I’ll be riding with a team and for one day, it will be the turn of motorists to know what it’s like to be marginalized and unloved. For one day, all the roads we travel will be free of cars. Though I’ve no illusion about the anarchic temperament of most cyclists – truly we have the potential to pose a whole other set of dangers to each other - I’ve never experienced an all-bike course before. What a concept!

The following Monday, we cyclists will return to our unloved status (and some of us will deserve that, I’m afraid). Manholes in the bike lanes will once again annoy us. Potholes mixed with traffic will endanger our rides and exert their nasty buzzkill. But we are 32,000 cyclists strong and growing. What if NYC were to become truly bike friendly? With paths and lanes that were maintained on an equal footing with that of cars? What if we didn’t have to fend for ourselves in traffic? What if riding a bicycle were considered just a normal way to get around most of the year, rather than a potential health hazard? What if…?

Well, we’re not there yet. But hopefully we're getting there. And a girl can dream.

2 Comments

City Island (Travelogue)

4/21/2015

6 Comments

One of the most significant changes that cycling has made in my life is to turn me into a 5-borough New Yorker. I had already begun this process thanks to my Brompton Lucille, but being a member of the 5 Boro Bike Club has taken me to places I would never have gone on my own – and in ways I never would have gone. Today, we go to City Island, a 40+mi ride.

As luck would have it, we are traveling on the best day of the year – and it’s a Saturday. Our leader, Geoffrey, wisely steers us away from the Hudson Greenway, which is more crowded than I’ve ever seen it (I ride it to get to Central Park). Instead, after meeting at Columbus Circle...

We head north to Adam Clayton Powell. We pick up St. Nicholas Avenue at 116th Street - and that’s the last time I know where I’m going. I did not download the route map (a bad habit of mine), but with the Point, Drop Sweep system that 5BBC uses, I know I'll be in good hands.

What I love about the 5BBC is that these are largely urban rides. The views aren’t always pretty, but they’re always interesting.

We ride through some wide bike lanes.

Over the FDR

Along the East River

Through areas with a dubious bike route...

To no bike route (safety in numbers)

Over bridges I don't recognize (the University Heights Bridge?)

And deep into the Bronx...

Guided expertly by our Fearless Leader. And this is when I discover that many of the parkways I’ve traveled for years, have bike paths right next to them: the Hutchinson River Parkway, The Mosholu Parkway. Who knew?

When we get to City Island, we ride to the southern tip for a seafood lunch at a joint that could have come straight out of an SNL skit: a cacophonous cavern with orders yelled back from the counters to the guys with the fryers, in a sort of working pandemonium. The noise level is off the charts, but I have to laugh. Where else in the country would you find a place like this?

I locate the group outside.

That fishing line strung above the table is to protect us (and our meal) from marauding seagulls.

We gobble down our lunch and before I know it, we're on our way back.

This time taking a slightly different route.

Through Westchester (or is it Beverly Hills?)

It’s pretty. It’s relaxed. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about cycling, it’s that there is no such thing as an ordinary ride. Sure enough, we’re at about mile 30, when two spokes from Geoffrey’s bike pop out with a bang. They sound like a gun shot. We’re at a stoplight, so at least he wasn’t riding.

We all pull over as he inspects the damage.

I never really thought about it, but spokes must be under a lot of pressure for a wheel to function properly. And we’ve been riding over city streets. This wheel is completely “Out of true,” as they say. Or in the vernacular, bent the hell out of shape. One more thing to worry about, I think.

But Geoffrey is remarkably unfazed and works to get the spokes back into the wheel, hoping it will align.

Ultimately, the decision is made for him to find his way home via subway, (he hopes), and for the rest of us to push on.

Fortunately some of us have the route map, and we make our way at a leisurely pace back to the Hudson Greenway.

But I have theatre tickets and can’t afford this leisurely pace. So after a 40mi ride, I find myself sprinting the last 8 mi or so down the Greenway – Gah!

En route, I encounter one pothole too many, and the wrist is not happy. I am home long enough to ice, and head out to the theatre, making a note to myself to check on Geoffrey later.

I would like to mention that during this ride, I have consumed:

1 Apple & 4 pieces cheese
1 banana
1 PB&J sandwich
1 Energy Bar
15 small scallops
1 small container boiled veggies
1 cup yogurt
1 Pint each: water, gator aid, lemonade
1 Cup of coffee at 8pm (to get me through the theatre)

And I could still eat!

Here’s the original route map.

6 Comments

Bad Behavior

4/17/2015

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“What’s the signal for backing into an intersection?” asks the student driver in one of my favorite New Yorker cartoons.

Whatever it is, this guy isn’t using it.

Nobody is.

Today, the first day of Spring that is both warm and clear, something’s in the air; the bad behavior is off the charts – and it’s everywhere. Cars are standing in crosswalks (as if this will get them to their destination any faster).

Blowing through Stop signs...

Cyclists are riding unpredictably and cutting in front without warning.

Pedestrians are doing their usual milling around (what are their choices?).

So it should be no surprise to me once I reach the Central Park loop that things are no different there - even on a weekday. Here’s a crossing guard, sending his charges across the path, into potentially oncoming cycling and car traffic – against the light.

For cyclists, Central Park is a bit of an anomaly, because the bike path is laid out for us to pass on the right. Regulars know this. But add in a plethora of tourists and first-time cyclists, and it’s a recipe for mayhem and general confusion.

Such confusion that today, I step out of my own set of permissible behavior and for a total of 5 seconds, ride in the pedestrian (jogging) lane.

Lying in wait for me is this rider.

Who has appointed herself Bike Enforcer of the Loop. She calls after me, pointing out how dangerous and wrong it is to do what I’ve just done. I admit my mistake. I laugh and apologize. I tell her she’s right. I promise not to do it again (and I mean it).

My good mood just seems to piss her off – she thinks I don’t take her seriously. She continues her reproach, whining on about last year’s pedestrian deaths in Central Park. Lola and I put on speed hoping to put distance between us, but she catches up when we run straight into a red traffic signal and squeal to a halt. There are no pedestrians, but we stand there anyway, side by side. The last thing I want is to give this woman ammunition – nobody loves a smart ass.

At which point she decides to make nice. “It’s a long learning curve,” she says in her nicest First Grade Teachery voice. I look straight ahead. By now, I’m fuming (even though I know I was wrong). Does this lecture never stop?

Just in time, I am rescued by a couple of cyclists heading straight for us, going the wrong direction. This gets her full attention, and I’m off the hook. The light turns green and Lola and I burn rubber as we make our getaway. I can hear the reprimand droning on in the distance. Sigh.

On a day like this, she has her work cut out for her.

Meanwhile, Lola and I have done three hill repeats: one standing on the pedals, a second in middle gear, and a third in granny gear (which hardly counts; I wasn’t even breathing hard).

So I head home - but the bad behavior hasn’t stopped.

I meditate on this. It’s only Spring. What’s going to happen come Summer? If it’s like this so early in the season it can only get worse. Will the whole system just boil over?

Just two days ago the City Council, in an effort to bring more sanity to the situation, banned cell phone use by cyclists. It’s a good first step – we don’t want drivers using them either - but it’s like trying to legislate morality. Because cyclists take their cue from pedestrians (which is where we all started). And pedestrians in New York are outlaws at heart.

How do you change the mind set of a populace that essentially has no rights? Or rather, has rights but often enough has to defend them posthumously? I recently learned that a person is killed every 32 hours from car collisions. And hitting (or killing) a pedestrian? It's a misdemeanor.

The Central-Park-Know-It-All I met today was doing her part (if annoyingly). And I was certainly at fault. So what’s the answer?

Central Park will have to ban cars, at least in the Summer (I think that's coming). As for the rest of the City, I am pinning my hopes on a saner street layout. There are a few "Complete Streets" in Manhattan – 1st Ave, most of 8th and 9th Avenues, Columbus. The goal is to make the rules for pedestrians, cars and cyclists so clear, that we will gradually fall into line and actually obey them. And of course it starts with me.

Until such time, perhaps I’d better learn the signal for backing into an intersection.

And if you want to know what that is, I'll sell you a bridge.

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Back in the Saddle

4/4/2015

5 Comments

So many activities are compared to getting back on the bike. But what is it like to actually do it? It feels like forever since I rode…

I know one thing: I don’t want to have to deal with anything but actual riding my first time back; the weather will have to be perfect. I follow the forecasts carefully, and decide to go out on the first Spring day.

But which bike to use? Feeling like a newbie, my first choice would be Lucille, who has a friendly step-through, and whose gears are easy to understand. But my wrist is not ready for those flatbars. Likewise Janet who is aluminum (a bumpier ride). With a view to cushioning the wrist, I decide on Lola, the Cadillac of my little fleet.

Her tires have flattened over time, and I’m not yet up to using a bike pump (unless I sit on it, which I have seriously considered). So I walk her over to Zen Bikes, where they happily inflate her tires and send me off with smiles and a high sign.

But no amount of wishing me good luck will make up for so much time off. The drop bars feel foreign; I sense a steep degradation in my street shops. I make it carefully over to the Greenway, and up we glide slowly.

Did I say glide? Lola is gliding. I am not. I have lost all familiarity with her gears and am mystified that I ever knew how to ride this bike. Why is my lower derailer kicking in all of a sudden? Which is the lever for higher gears, and how do I downshift? In spite of the smooth ride, I feel like a rank beginner on a thoroughbred. I give Lola completely contradictory signals. If she were a horse, she would have every right to buck me off by now. We make it in fits and starts up to the tennis courts, passed by everybody, me feeling slightly embarrassed.

The whole experience makes me ask how I got myself into this to begin with. All this money spent on bikes, all this time spent riding (and blogging). It all seems like a dream now, from which I have emerged with a new, sober perspective. Perhaps it was just a phase, I think. A healthy coping mechanism I came up with to deal with all the disasters of last year. Maybe I’ll just sell everything and return to the way things were before the shit hit the fan in my life.

On the return trip, I tire of so much thinking. I decide to just enjoy what I can of this Spring day. And of course once I let go, intuition kicks in and the logic of shifting comes right back. Lola is as perfect and responsive as I remember. Hmmm.

Back home, I’m glad to find the wrist is in good working order. I have The Five Borough Bike Tour coming up on May 3rd. That might be something to shoot for…