New Parade Rule

The city scheduled a hearing yesterday at 10am to discuss the N.Y.P.D.'s proposal to make gatherings of more than 30 bicyclists illegal without a permit. That is to say, they held it on the Monday morning following Thanksgiving weekend. Clearly, they wanted to promote civic dialogue on the issue, and chose a time that they believed could best accomodate it. Despite their best efforts to arrange a convenient time, I was unable to attend. Perhaps my job just holds strange hours.

If those new rules go into effect, I might not be able to experience rides like the one I spoke about in my prior post. As reported by Indymedia, the Green Party's Mitchel Cohen asks, "What about 30 Christmas Carollers? OK, no permit needed, right? What if they go from house to house carolling, but suddenly switch to antiwar songs? Will they need a permit then?" The New York Times provides a good round-up.

Five Borough Bicycle Club

Yesterday, I rode 25 miles with the Five Borough Bicycle Club, who offered a free guided tour through Roosevelt Island, Long Island City, Greenpoint, Williamsburg (north and south), Vinegar Hill, and DUMBO. It's one more reason that bicyclists actually see a different city than other New Yorkers. I found out (1) the location of the world's deepest estuary, (2) the asylum where Mae West was committed for her performance in the Broadway play Sex, (3) the perimeter of Brooklyn's largest Satmar Hasidic community, (4) the site of the only soft drink advertisement in New York to also be an historical landmark, and (5) the location of the mansion that once belonged to a World War II commandant.

Before I started riding, I would not have explored so much in one day.

Thankgiving

This year, I am thankful that I have been able to ride my bike throughout the streets of New York -- with no prior experience -- starting one month ago, and I have not yet gotten hit by any vehicle. I am thankful that the great majority of motorists are not homicidal. I am thankful that I am saving so much cab and subway fare in an interesting and healthy manner. I am thankful that my calves, thighs, and calves are getting more toned since I started riding in October.

I had better stop now before I compose the most over-the-top ode to bicycling since Queen released that catchy song.

Bicycle Theft

One of the most interesting aspects of the Savvy Cyclist class had to do with preventing bike theft. The mind reels at the many different ways a thief can steal from you. Some put up fake street signs that they remove when you lock against them. If you lock on the horizontal poles of scaffolding, they might remove it by loosening the bolts that keep it on. If you lock against a short parking meter, they will try to lift the locked bike over it, and you also need to worry about bike parts being stolen. Lights run about $20 a piece and are easily swiped. I recently got a chain tied to my seat because they go for $30 a pop on the market. According to one craigslist posting, someone even nicked a guy's pedal sometime!

Imagine a petty crook putting all that effort and ingenuity into something productive.

Test Results

I heard back from my instructor at the Savvy Cyclist class about the results of my preliminary exam for entrance into the League of American Bicyclist's LCI seminar to become a certified instructor.

"You got an 83 on your exam."

Problem is, he can't remember whether a passing grade is an 80 or an 85. If it's the latter, I am one question shy of passing, and will have to retake the class. I started riding regularly about a month ago, and I'm getting closer to certification. What would I do with it? I have no idea, but it'd make for an interesting story and adventure. I will probably find out more information soon.

Ghost Bike Saga, Vol 2

I found out more today about that Ghost Bike that appeared around the corner from my apartment. It turns out that a delivery man died in a crash while bicycling about a month ago. He was running an order on a rainy night, and he had no brakes. He couldn't afford to get them fixed. The whole thing happened around the same time I started riding in the city, which makes sense because it was the first time I noticed it.

It's not a dangerous intersection. It's pretty quiet in terms of traffic. It was a combination of broken equipment, inclement weather, and a rush to place the order on time. This is his memorial.

Getting Savvy

Can a man go from timid novice to savvy expert in a day? It depends on how you educate yourself. Bike New York's class fills a lot into eight hours. From 9am to noon, you get a run-down of New York City bike laws. Now, not only can I continue to assert my right to an entire lane, but can get smug and cite NY traffic code (Section 1234) when doing so. After a quick lunch, we took to the streets, learned some emergency precedures, and found out what to do if a vehicle cuts us off. (Apparently, swearing like a sailor wasn't it.) Also, I learned how to change a flat tire, and even got to take a test toward becoming a certified instructor. I just started riding less than month ago, and if I pass the written test, I qualify for another similar weekend seminar later. Once I finish that, the League of American Cyclists makes me as a legitimate teacher, at which time I would be a Biking Coward par excellance!

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Global Warming

When the temperature hits the upper 60s in New York in the middle of November, one is almost thankful for the millions of motorists padding our atmosphere with a soft cushion of CO2. If everyone took up my new lifestyle, I would probably be riding in a parka -- or just very, very cold. As it happened, I rode from 17th Street and the East Side to 107th Street and the West to take Bike New York's "Savvy Cyclist" class. It's a free and valuable eight-hour class about riding in the city that's part study, part on-road experience, and part demonstration on how to replace a flat tire. More on that to follow.

Parking at the Waldorf

Today, I decided to accept temp work at a conference at the Waldorf=Astoria. It was a business dress kind of affair, and I rode in style with a three piece suit and a blue tie for election day. You don't want to lock your bike around a street sign when you're dressed for a day at a New York hotel whose name is synonymous with high-life. I called the Front Desk last night to ask where to park, and lo and behold, they had a rack. What? No valet? I thought this was supposed to be a classy establishment!

Temp work at a ritzy hotel is much like temp work anywhere else. I opened and closed doors for wealthy people who all had two working arms. Although some surely had fine, chauffeured automobiles awaiting them, mine almost certainly took less time to get out of the garage.

Cycle Rage

I've noticed recently that bicycling has made me a more confident, active, and altogether angry person. I just can't stand getting honked by cars for my legal right of riding in a lane. Two times this past weekend, I greeted honkers with a gesture that resembles a right turn hand signal, with only the center finger extended. Today, I just screamed out an obscenity a block away from Union Square, near the Blue Water Grill and several other elegant restaurants that have outdoor seating. Funny thing is, I have no idea whether the car that I expected to tell off even heard me. I might have been the foul-mouthed maniac making the streets unsafe for small children. Before taking to the road next time, I'm going to breathe and count to ten.

The Investigation

I decided to look up the legality of posting the license plates of people who double-park illegally in the bike lane. It turns out that there does not appear to be a legal impediment to doing so.

2:55pm -- Called New York State Department of Motor Vehicles.

3:07pm -- Put through to "Monique," who refers me to the Parking Violations Bureau.

3:11pm -- Called the Parking Violations Bureau.

3:11-3:24pm -- Taught self how to play "Yellow Submarine" on guitar while on hold.

3:25pm -- Connected to "Calhoon," who politely informs me that the Bureau cannot do anything with pictures of cars parked in the bike lane. Gives me phone number to report offending vehicles.

There you go! The "Street Justice" column can best be used as a hall of shame, but chances are if I took the time to snap the photo, I've also called the authorities. Tremble, quake with fear, and share the #$*!-ing road.

Street Justice

What part of the sign on the left do these old ladies on the right not understand? They get off with a warning this time. Listen up, all drivers who want to double park in the bike line. I plan to ride with my small digital camera in my pocket and photograph the license plates of all cars who just don't get it. What's more, if it's up on the site, it's going to be sent to the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles Parking Violations Bureau -- as soon as I check with my attorney regarding the legality. Don't be surprised if you find a parking summons in your mailboxes.

A Bad Omen?

A Ghost Bike has appeared around the corner from where I live, which means that someone is memorializing a rider who got killed right near my house. It's as if someone knew that I was trying to conquer my fear, and presented a daily reminder of the dangers of my new hobby. I don't want to sound glib or narcissistic about somebody paying respect to the dead. It's off-putting, though. I can't turn the corner of an almost daily route without looking at it.