Law'n'Order: Ethical Principles and Practicality

Questions to consider:

• While motoring*, have you ever tried to scrupulously observe the speed limit, anywhere in the US, any time in, say, the past 8 years? What happened? (Bonus question: Was there bloodshed?)
• When's the last time you saw a motorist make a complete stop at a stop sign when it wasn't mandated by cross traffic?
• If you live in an area where cellphone use is illegal while driving, do you see people doing it anyway?
  
• Are there stretches along your cycle commute where litter is really bad? (Bonus question: How many times in the past, say, month have you noticed complete fast food bags discarded?)

By now you're asking, "What's your point, Robert?" Fair enough. I've been thinking about how personal ethics are affected by being in a car. I'm wondering if the isolation that an automobile imposes, the sense of being "cut off", somehow enables the motorist to compromise his principles. Is a cyclist different because he's "out there" in the environment with little or no protection? Admittedly, I see plenty of cyclists (in the US at least) do lots of scofflaw behavior. And it's this behavior that I always consider "stupid", meaning dangerous, or ultimately impractical.

Ethics seems to be about finding the balance between the principle and the practicality of the situation. Consider the well-known "four-way test" of the Rotary Club International:

1. Is it the TRUTH?
2. Is it FAIR to all concerned?
3. Will it build GOODWILL & BETTER FRIENDSHIP?
4. Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?

Notice that items 1 and 2 are about adherence to principle (truth and fairness) and 3 and 4 are about practicality (goodwill, friendship, benefits). Certainly, if an action can be said to meet all 4 questions in the affirmative, it can be said to be ethical. (See this post for more ruminations on the Rotary "4WT", including examples of situations where the principled and the practical collide.)

Traffic laws (and for that matter, littering laws) are thankfully areas where the principled and the practical coincide, or at least overlap greatly. A commenter on a previous post noted that cyclists (and pedestrians) in Denmark were scrupulously observant of traffic laws, and I've noted the same on my travels to Europe, in Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, and Sweden. (France is, well, another story.)

I'm always flummoxed when I see a bicyclist, say, commenting on a blog, defending his right to break the traffic laws. Neither principled nor practical.

*I recognize this blog is not about motoring, and it may be that many readers of this blog in fact never act as motorists. To you, I doff my helmet and bow.

Across the chasm

The renowned cult author, Robert Pirsig, wrote an article for Esquire magazine in 1977 about cruise sailing wherein he observed that people who had spent years and lots of money preparing for once-in-a-lifetime cruise sailing voyages often cut them short, disappointed and disillusioned, eager to get "back to reality" from their dream cruises that had turned into nightmares.

Here are a couple of excerpts that apply, directly or indirectly, to bicycle commuting, I think:

The house-car-job complex with its nine-to-five office routine is common only to a very small percentage of the earth's population and has only been common to this percentage for the last hundred years or so. If this is reality, have the millions of years that preceded our current century all been unreal?

An alternative - and better - definition of reality can be found by naming some of its components ...air...sunlight...wind...water...the motion of waves...the patterns of clouds before a coming storm. These elements, unlike twentieth-century office routines, have been here since before life appeared on this planet and they will continue long after office routines are gone. They are understood by everyone, not just a small segment of a highly advanced society. When considered on purely logical grounds, they are more real than the extremely transitory life-styles of the modern civilization the depressed ones want to return to.
...
Now, however, with a boat of my own and some time at sea, I begin to see the learning of virtue another way. It has something to do with the way the sea and sun and wind and sky go on and on day after day, week after week, and the boat and you have to go on with it. You must take the helm and change the sails and take sights of the stars and work out their reductions and sleep and cook and eat and repair things as they break and do most of these things in stormy weather as well as fair, depressed as well as elated, because there's no choice. You get used to it; it becomes habit-forming and produces a certain change in values.

Taking responsiblity for my own transportation is such a liberating thing, and I think it's exactly what Pirsig is talking about. What the weather's going to do, how I have to dress for that, how long it's going to take to get to the office, how my legs feel and how steep the rises are, all these things are part of my "daily chores". Every hill is an opportunity to find the perfect gear to carry me. Headwinds are an opportunity to orient my direction to the cardinal points and get a better sense of my space on the map as I go home. That squeak in the chain means that I'm going to have drop it and lube it soon. My right knee is twinging a bit, better gear down. The way those clouds are moving means that the rain will be over in no more than 5 minutes.

Those cars going by me are big and hot. And heavy, really massive. They are big metal-and-glass parlors on wheels carrying large amounts of flammable liquid. Sometimes the drivers are aware of me, sometimes not. Most of the drivers don't seem too happy; a lot of them are distracted, talking on their cellphones.

As I sit here typing this post, two (count 'em) car ads have come on late night TV touting new cars with "driver-assist" technology. You know, computer-aided steering that moves you back into the land if you wanter, or senses when you're nodding off and alerts you. All this stuff is going to put just more stuff between the drivers who buy these (very expensive) cars and reality.

Pirsig is right. Dealing with reality, if made into a habit (and taken in manageable doses) is value-forming and -enhancing. Motorists have their "reality". In their world, what I do is crazy, dangerous, and even childish. (They wonder when I'll "grow up and get a car"!) In my world, what I do is entirely safe, fun, life-enhancing and (especially) real.

I do drive sometimes, when the situation demands it. (I will have to tomorrow.) So it's easier for me to understand the perspective of a motorist. But 99% of all motorists will not have my cycling experience. It's like we are on the opposite rims of a canyon.

Hazards 2: Interchanges

I was having a Saturday-morning kaffeeklatsch conversation with some ex-pats from overseas (there are a bunch of them who live out in Maryland suburbia, who work with NASA, in the diplomatic corps, and for agencies, well, let's just say they don't talk about their work very much.) One of them recognized me as a regular cyclist, because he'd seen me often on our neighborhood streets (I was so pleased), and so I gently (honest!) steered the conversation towards cycle-commuting. One of the guys was from Holland, and of course he liked to cycle "back home", but he said the hills in Maryland were too much for him. Another of the guys (an antenna designer for NASA) said that at one time he lived just 9 miles from his work, and (so he said) he would have liked to bike but there was a big highway in the way and he couldn't figure out how to get across it.

I knew the highway he was referring to, and I cross it regularly. There is an overpass about every mile along its length, but the overpasses are secondary roads, legal to cycle on, but certainly intimidating for the inexperienced. The overpasses can be particularly intimidating, and I thought it might be interesting to throw out the method I use to cross them. (Here's a link to the excellent "Infrastructurist" blog that the image at right comes from.)

Let me say right up front that this is vehicular cycling, and I've come to the realization that it's just not for everyone. I think that VC requires a commitment (and, often as not, a little bit of militancy in that commitment) to the concept that bicycles-have-full-vehicular-rights. It also requires concentration, some athletic ability, and some developed cycling skills. With all these ingredients available, VC is not dangerous, but as I say, it's not for everyone. In the America of today, though, it is the way to become carless if you don't want to wait for the powers-that-be to develop infrastructure. (This is not to take anything away from the Urban Repair Squad.)

The skills required for this apparently obvious maneuver are three:

• The ability to ride up a gentle incline (as are most interchanges) and maintain a speed, say, in excess of 10 mph;
  
• The ability to "ride a line" in traffic, to ride right on a highway stripe and not swerve even when cars bypass at speed;
• The ability to look back in both directions without leaving your line of travel;

I say "apparently obvious" because in essence all the cyclist does when crossing an interchange is go in a straight line. I've seen experienced cyclists (although not experienced in the vehicular sense) mess this one up, always trying to be next to the curb or shoulder, and crossing too many vehicular lanes in the process. The State of Maryland "rules of the road" booklet is a little ambiguous on the practice of bicycles and turning lanes. It says:

A bicycle should be operated as close to the right side of the road as practical and safe. However, cyclists are expected to use turn lanes.

It doesn't say, however, in this context how bicyclists are supposed to use them. (I've contacted MD-DOT and will post their clarifications here when and if I receive same.)

So, anyway. Back to the topic at hand, which is the interchange. A most common interchange that one would encounter here in Maryland is the classic "cloverleaf" which I've illustrated in an adjacent image.

I've analyzed the crossing of this interchange and find that it contains seven (!) zones that have to be traversed, and each zone requires a separate response. Each zone is unique, but some are similar to others. Take a look at the illustration.

Our intrepid vehicular cyclist is crossing from bottom to top. The primary road (say an expressway) is the horizontal main road. The secondary road (typically a road with a speed limit of less than 50 mph) is the one our cyclist is on. We'll assume the secondary road has a decent rideable shoulder. (This is not necessary, but most secondary roads of this character do in fact have this, so it's a reasonable assumption.)

So, let's descibe the seven steps of getting across a highway interchange. They are:

1. In this zone the cyclist is riding the shoulder, looking over his left for oncoming traffic that may not see him;
2. In this zone, the cyclist is "riding the line", on high alert for motorists overtaking, not being aware of him, and crossing in front of him from left to right;
3. In this zone, the cyclist gets a brief mental rest (on the shoulder again) and looks to his right to assess oncoming traffic from the loop;
4. In this zone, the cyclist is again "riding the line", on high alert particularly for motorists coming off the primary road overtaking, not being aware of him, and crossing in front of him from right to left. Since there are also cars on the left, this is probably the most intimidating section;
5. Another brief rest. This is similar to zone 3, as the cyclist should be looking right and anticipating;
6. In zone 6, the cyclist will either "ride the line" if there is bypassing traffic on the right, or, if the road right-behind is plenty clear, make an efficient crossing to the shoulder. (I say efficient because for obvious reasons this lane is no place to dally);
7. The last zone, the cyclist has regained the shoulder and is on his way;

So. There you have it, a quite complicated way to get from point A to point B in a straight line. Most experienced vehicular cyclists might well regard this post as both obvious and trivial. But I put it up to make explicit what the requirements are for VC. Mind you, I think the rewards are commensurate, to be sure. Freedom is a wonderful thing.

Yearly Checkup

On Tuesday of this week, it was time for my annual physical exam. I don't know how you feel about "the checkup", but for the last few years, it's something I really look forward to. To put things in perspective, 3-1/2 years ago, here's where I was. I:

• weighed 250 lbs.
• had a BMI of almost 29
• had blood pressure of 140/90 (taking medication), and
• was pre-diabetic.

Today, after 3-1/2 years of incorporating practical cycling and eating right into my lifestyle, here's where I am. I:

• weigh 200 lbs.
• have a BMI of 23
• have blood pressure of 110/70
• have absolutely normal blood sugar
• have total cholesterol of 179, with an HDL of 65, and
• no meds (well, a buck's worth of dietary supplements a day.)
  

My annual-checkup conversation with my doctor begins something like:

"Hi, Doc. How's business?"
"It's OK. (looking at my charts:) You know, you're in pretty good shape."
"Well, all you have to do is fit large amounts of exercise into your lifestyle and eat right."
"Yeah, but who wants to do that?" (smiling)

Bicycle commuting hits the "sweet spot" in turning around the American health care crisis. I know that this is a strong statement, but not really too strong. Ask yourself, what would happen if a large percentage of Americans who lived less than 10 miles from their work just "did it"? (Hint: Big Pharma wouldn't like it.) Most Americans don't believe they can afford the time to fit enough exercise into their lives (and this is no doubt true for people in every developed country, except perhaps Denmark and the Netherlands.)

"Health care" is what cycle commuters do every day. Physical health, mental health, and spiritual health. Is it Utopian to talk this way? I don't care.

De Pigerne Promenade...

..which is Danish for "The Girls Promenade". Which is kind of how I think of the blog Copenhagen Cycle Chic. I have to admit, it's kind of an envy thing. Let me explain.

Firstly, here's the brief on CCC:

Copenhagen Cycle Chic began its bloglife back in June 2007 when journalist, film director and photographer Mikael Colville-Andersen decided to put a growing number of photos about Copenhagen's bicycle culture into one place on the internet.

A series of social documentary photos about Copenhagen started to include a number of shots of life in the World's Cycling Capital, including fashionable Copenhageners on their bicycles. The feedback about these photos was positive and there was clearly a growing interest abroad in seeing how the bicycle was an integral part of life in the Danish capital. Specifically about how Copenhageners have demystified the bicycle and use it without any form of bicycle 'gear'. Just as the bicycle was meant to be ridden when invented.

I love that statement about "how Copenhagers have demystified the bicycle and use it without any form of bicycle 'gear'". Really? Do the good bicycling citizens of Copenhagen not have to carry locks, has bicycle theft become passé in Copenhagen? Hm. I don't think so, although supposedly "convenience theft" has decreased since Copenhagen introduced their City Bike system. Do the Danes not have to use lights after dark? I can't imagine so. And I know for a fact (by looking at some of nice photography on the site) that bike baskets and panniers are widely used. So I suspect the "bicycle gear" that Mikael Colville-Andersen is referring to is bicycle clothes. Which raises the question:

Why are functional bicycling clothes so reviled, especially in Copenhagen?

I mean, look at the Copenhagen Cycling Chic Manifesto. (Here's the desktop version and here is the blog post.) While certainly delivered with tongue firmly planted in cheek, I mean, come on.

I wear:

• bike shorts (simple black ones, not team-livery) because they don't chafe when I'm cycling at 15-20 mph;
• a bright fluorescent jersey to be visible in all weather conditions;
• cycling shoes for more efficient power;
• gloves to keep my hands from getting lacerated in a spill; and
• a helmet for safety.

I admit this may be "geeky" (however that's defined) but this is practical cycling, and it is, after all, the name of this blog. The Copenhageners (Copenhagenites?) sniff at this, because they know they have it good, and they want to flaunt it.

Why do I say they "have it good"? I've been giving this some thought, and I've come to the conclusion that this is a "hierarchy of needs" issue. Most readers will be familiar with Abraham Maslow's "Hierarchy of Needs" often expressed as a graphic pyramid from his 1943 paper, "A Theory of Human Motivation". The original hierarchy was expressed as the following levels of need:

• Physiological (meeting biological needs);
• Safety (security of body, resources, property);
• Love/Belonging (friendship, family, intimacy);
• Esteem (self-esteem, confidence, respect);
• Self-Actualization (morality, creativity, etc.);

Now, let's think about the environment of practical cycling. There's a hierarchy of needs here, also, if you think about it:

• Law (I must have the legal right to be on the road!);
• Safety (Can I make it to my destination without mishap?);
• Living Density (How far do I have to ride to work?);
• Physical Ability (How much strength do I need to do it?);
• Style (Can I look good or be cool doing it?);

The beauty of Copenhagen is that the first three levels of the pyramid are taken care of. Cyclists are legally supported in Denmark, and are numerous enough that they are well respected on the road. Copenhagen, like most European capitals, is very densely settled (and flat to boot) so that rides are short and it doesn't require significant physical stamina to handle the ride. Which gives the Danes the luxury of being able to focus on Style. Good for them, I say. But, as reported earlier, I'm jealous.

Keep up the promenade, girls. And, by all means, keep looking good. But please, try to not rub our noses in it quite so hard!

The Oregon Manifest troubles me...

Sometimes I worry that I'm becoming a curmudgeon. For example, take my reaction to the Oregon Manifest. Here is an event that, on the face of it, people like me should be wholeheartedly in support of. (I know, don't end your sentences with prepositions.) But still, I find it troubling. Bear with me as I explore the reasons why:

First, what is the Oregon Manifest? It's a three-weekend series of bike related events in October and November. There appear to be two main events: The Oregon Manifest Constructor's Design Challenge is a framebuilders' competition aimed at [inspiring] "frame builders and designers to develop considered, integrated, and spectacular solutions for the everyday rider". Complementary to this is the second major event, the Constructor's Race, wherein "Design Challenge builders (or their designated proxies) will put their entries to the test braving dirt, gravel, elevation climbs, and urban technical trials on the route to Bike Victory."

The judging criteria for the Design Challenge is truly broad and deep. From the entry form, it reads like this:

1. Truly sensational solution: A genuinely unique and innovative solution for transportation use. Amaze us.
2. Handling: The bike must handle equally well with and without load. Both options will be tested against turning and straight pedaling.
3. Integration: Design solutions should be integrated into a complete and harmonious whole, rather than a checklist of details.
4. Presentation and Execution: Fabrication refinement and final presentation are important indicators of skill and thoughtfulness. Extraordinary craftsmanship can be displayed equally well in the simplest brazing or the fanciest lug. Individual design solutions should build to a single visual and functional whole.
5. Overall response to the course and challenges: Entry bikes must take into consider all elements of the race course, the 10 design considerations and the overall challenges they present.
6. Load carrying: Bikes must accomodate and securely carry the rider’s award ceremony party attire, a provided 6-pack of beverage (in glass bottles), and a provided small container of party snacks.
7. Security: Bikes must be protected from theft while unattended. A smart, easy solution for securing the bike under different conditions is expected.
8. Portage: Bikes must accommodate being carried by its rider over a section of the course.
9. Utility: Bikes should accomodate the expected need for changing weather, lighting conditions, and visibility. We know that you know what this means.
10. Quality and Rattles: If elements are loose, rattling, or otherwise inoperable at the race finish, points will be deducted for each failure.

So, there you have it. Everything from "Amaze us" (and "us" is a distinguished group of judges) to "smart, easy solution" for security to "accommodate weather" to "no rattles". You will agree that that's a broad portfolio for design and execution, no?

You know, I do believe that issuing a tough challenge is a good way to get results. I've participated in (and, on occasion, won) design challenges under tough, even unreasonable, conditions. So, what problems could a Practical Cyclist have with such a challenge? I think my problem is with the assumptions that this event appears to make about the state of affairs "for the everyday rider" (and I feel that, as a bona fide "everyday rider" and as a blogger who cares about bicycle design I get to weigh in on this stuff):

Assumption 1: The reason people don't use bikes for transportation is that the bikes themselves aren't good enough, nicely-enough designed, practical enough, or (especially) convenient enough. This is a seductive assumption: "Hey, if we could just make bikes convenient, like cars, people would use them!" Well, I hate to be the one to break this news, but it's just not going to happen -- bikes will never be as convenient as cars, and we'll just have to live with that. The truth is, the not-so-little problems with bike "convenience", to wit,

• safety in traffic
• weather
• security
• comfort
• physical stamina
• efficient power utilization
• perspiration

..can be addressed by physical bicycle design only to a limited degree. The problems that can't be addressed by design will have to be overcome by preparation and motivation to ride, and I assert that it is lack of motivation to ride that keeps people off bikes, because, frankly, bikes are pretty wonderful as they are. Making them 2 or 3 or even 5 percent more wonderful is nice, but hardly a revolution.

Assumption 2: A 77-mile cyclocross race is a predictor of a successful transportation system. Look, practical transportation needs are in the range of 20 to 30 miles a day, maximum. And they don't involve portage or dirt trails. (They do involve carrying lunch and a change of clothes, however, which is admittedly also part of the challenge.) Cyclocross races, especially ones with extra "degrees of difficulty", are fun, for sure, but suggesting that an event like this has anything to do with the "everyday rider" is muddying the waters.

Assumption 3: The engineering and fabrication required to solve the problems stated in the design brief can be done in 2 months. I've built frames before; 30 years ago in Houston, I had the great privilege to be an apprentice to the late, great Roman "Ray" Gasiorowski, maker of Romic bikes. From my personal experience, to even begin to solve these problems, you're talking about a month of pencil-and-paper work. Then fabrication of special components, then assembly and testing. The timing is such that what you're going to get is a bunch of beautiful, well-engineered, fast cargo bikes. This is not a bad thing, mind you, but not "velorutionary". (Here's a prediction: several of the entrants, and probably the winner, will use a Rohloff Speedhub, because of its superior transmission capabilities.)

Conceptual problems aside, though, I do see one other problem, or should I say potential conflict, and that is this: The listed Director of Oregon Manifest is someone named Jocelyn Sycip, and one of the listed entrants in the design competition is Sycip Design of Santa Rosa, California. Is this a conflict of interest, or am I to believe that the Sycips of Oregon and California are unrelated?

Yep, all these years and miles of bicycle commuting are turning me into a curmudgeon. No doubt about it.

Use Case for a Practical Cyclist

There are many particular "use cases" for practical cycling, but few come to mind that are any more compelling than Taking The Car To The Shop. In non-practical-cycling terms, this is one of life's little pains, right? You have to have your spouse/SO/family member take you or pick you up (and burn double the fossil fuel in doing so), or else you have to cool your heels at the auto shop for a shuttle (that's assuming they even have a shuttle), OR you have to get a taxi. Inconvenient, frustrating, and/or wasteful all the way around.

On the other hand, if you:

• have figured out a good route to/from the shop to your home;
• have a way to carry a bike on or in the car being serviced; and
• want an excuse to ride your bike,

..then Taking The Car To The Shop is just a fun couple of hours (except for the repair bill, which is yet another reminder (as if I needed one) that cars are expensive and troublesome!)

Finding excuses to ride your bike (as opposed to finding excuses to avoid riding your bike) is what the Practical Cyclist's life is all about.

Cyclist's Log

Mileage as of end of July 2009: 2085.4 miles.

Considering I had a dud of a May (only 215 miles!) I think this is not too bad. July, wherein I had in excess of 440 miles, has been a great month. I'm back on track to hit my goal for the year. (And I'm starting out August strong.)

Creepy

Is it just me who finds the new Toyota Prius ads creepy? Apparently.

Yes, I know that the Prius is the most fuel-efficient car out there. Yes, I know the Munchkin-like seething mass of humanity is mostly computer-augmented, just like the Coliseum crowd effects that won the Oscar for the movie Gladiator. But it still creeps me out.

Part of what I know about the Prius is this: It's a car. (well, duh.) And that means it's big and heavy (relative to my scrawny transporation system, that is.) Think about it this way: A Prius hauling a single person (most of them do) is getting (let's say) 50 person-miles per gallon of gas, (which contains 31,548 kcal), or 31,548 / 50 = 630 kcal per mile. On a bike, I can cover roughly 15 miles per hour burning 700 kcal, which works out to 700 / 15 = 46.7 kcal per mile. So my system (for a single passenger) is 13.5 times as efficient as a Prius. So if a Prius gets 50 mpg, I get "675 mpg". (I know that's a bit of a red herring.)

In honor of this ratio, I'vc created a graphic. You can download the high-rez version here, if you want to put it on a t-shirt or something.

But the latest data point about hybrids is a truly unexpected one: according to insurance statistics, hybrid drivers drive more, get more tickets, and have more accidents than non-hybrid drivers. (Perhaps they are distracted by their hypermiling techniques?) According to the study cited here, the decreased guilt associated with improved fuel-efficiency increases the number of discretionary trips by up to 25%, largely offsetting any petroleum savings.

It is, after all, just a car.

Practical Cycling Defined

I define practical cycling most succinctly as "cycling miles that displace motor vehicle miles."

A group of six (only six?) high-school counselors has done a significant bit of practical cycling by touring college campuses (in my stomping ground, in Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Delaware) to check them out for their student counselees. Twelve days, more than a dozen colleges. 400 miles. (Now that I think about it, although that's only 33 miles a day, it still would take some selling to convince most people not doing serious cycling already that they could handle that.) This is significant. Yes, it's billed as "combining a serious tour with their love of bicycling," but this is ordinary people doing a sustained tour at 1/4 to 1/3 the rate of the Tour de France.

The story in the New York Times is here.

I'm impressed, and I hope their numbers grow next year.

Before and After: My Diet

So, here's a little bit about my personal history. I can identify pretty much with "before"/"after" stories, as I'm one of those guys who has a "before" and "after" myself. My story is this: in February of 2006, I weighed about 250 lbs, large but not crazy-overweight for a guy who is 6'6" tall, and I was getting regular exercise, a lot of it on my bike. On my annual checkup that month, my family physician told me I was borderline diabetic. This came as a rather nasty shock, as my dad was diabetic, and his diabetes (and associated heart disease) drastically shortened his life (he died at the age of 56, after his third heart attack.) It's hard to overestimate the dread with which I beheld diabetes, so to say I was motivated to change is putting it mildly.

My doctor told me I had to find (as she put it) "a new baseline" in my dietary habits. She directed me to the Whole Foods Diet developed by the Health Sciences Center of the School of Medicine at Texas Tech University. What I really like about this diet is one of its organizing principles: it's not how much you eat, it's what you eat. This is a controlled-carbohydrate diet that (other than refined carbos) lets you eat all the whole foods you want. I found myself eating a lot of fresh fruit, because of the convenience. No preparation, immediate hunger abatement. The important and fundamental thing is, I was never, ever hungry on this diet.

The results were, I guess you'd say, pretty dramatic. I began losing two to three pounds a week, which is a pretty fast loss on a sustained basis. I basically went from 245 to 195 in about four months. By mid-2006, I reached 195 lbs and stopped losing weight. My BMI went from 28.3 to 22.5. Since that time, my weight has stayed in the 195 to 200 range. These days, I'm on the diet for breakfast and lunch (I almost always pack my lunch to work) and eat pretty much whatever for dinner. I really like being in shape, my marginal diabetes went away (hopefully never to return) and I lost 20mm of mercury off the top and bottom of my blood pressure.

I think motivation is a matter of focus. I was focused on getting and feeling healthy and avoiding the history of my dad. Many people, when they change their habits, focus on what they're missing. I say, don't look back.

A review that makes me want to buy the book

David Byrne, who has received coverage in this blog before, has become the de facto spokesman for cyclists in New York City and beyond. Normally, I'm the type who resents (to no small degree) being spoken for, but Byrne's eloquence in his review (in today's New York Times Book Review) of Jeff Mapes' PEDALING REVOLUTION: How Cyclists Are Changing American Cities is so compelling that I'm inclined to settle and say, "I'm happy with Byrne being the voice of my generation."

According to the NYT-Book Review editors, Byrne is himself writing a book on bicycling and cities and their intersection called Bicycle Diaries in September. This will be worth reading, as city (and suburban) planning and the impact of cycling on it (and vice versa) is a topic I'm finding more and more interesting.

There is one egregious flaw in Byrne's review. He says therein,

I can ride till my legs are sore and it won’t make riding any cooler, but when attractive women are seen sitting upright going about their city business on bikes day and night, the crowds will surely follow.

I must insist here that it can be only false modesty that allows Byrne to assert that his personal involvment "won't make riding any cooler".

Bike to Work [Fill in the Blank]

I attended in mid-May the "Bike to Work Day" held along my morning commute in Columbia, Maryland. It was frankly frustrating, and as probably the only regular cycle commuter in attendance, I felt, frankly, out of place. Who were all these people in colored Spandex, and where did they come from? Unlike last year, when it was a downpour, the weather cooperated, and there was a pretty good crowd of people, I'd say 50 or so. A smattering of the attendees are described below:

• An older middle-aged woman who steadfastly refused to be convinced that riding with the traffic was safer for her;
• A group of cyclists who had a 10+ mile commute for which they hadn't figured out the route;
• A group of bicycle cops, off at a small remove, looking like they didn't belong, and no other cyclists were going over to talk;
• The usual group of recreational club cyclists waddling around on their racing cleats;
• Maybe (maybe!) one other person who was outfitted for practical cycling (this was the only other bike with fenders, for God's sake.)

I went off to talk with the cops. They were nice enough guys, if a little clueless about what "bike to work" was all about. I asked them about their training, and they said they had received certification from the International Police Mountain Biking Association, which trains and certifies policemen, EMS, and security people. I asked about the coursework, and they emphasizd the low-speed, crowd-oriented part of the training. (I've since followed up on it, and to me, the PDF coursework summary offered by the IPMBA looks pretty good for a 3 day course.) As usual, I would say, the cops were a little too focused on the hardware. They kept looking at me a little strangely, maybe because I was wearing my "Eclectic Shock" T-shirt (image at right.)

But, getting back to the point. What is the purpose of Bike to Work Day? Is it

1. To convince people that they can physically manage the ride to and from their place of work? Maybe it does that, but I also suspect that there are enough mishaps (from flat tires, sunburn, and being late to work from simply getting lost) that there is a significant risk that the opposite effect may be achieved.
2. To allow local politicians to conspicuously ride a bike and thus try and capture the bike riding community as supporters? I suspect that this plays no small role in the planning. For sure, I didn't hear anyone talking about serious new bikeway planning or sharrow painting. (Unlike lucky Boris, see previous post.)
   
3. To educate people about safety? There were State of Maryland DOT brochures out about "Bike safety" competent enough I suppose in their content, but they featured a little girl in pigtails on a banana-seated bike as their protagonist, thus perpetuating the image of bicycling as a children's activity.
4. To ecucate people about what they really need to know about how to commute successfully? In this respect it failed miserably. Success as a cycle commuter requires planning and motivation. Resources promoting either of these were nowhere in evidence.

I suspect the real answer is 2, and so I've become more than a little jaded about bike to work day. I've joined the ranks of Bike Snob NYC who put out a PSA on Bike to Work month. (More and more, I like Bike Snob, even if he does leave me rather breathless.)

Think about it -- even the name is wrong. What does "Bike to Work Day" mean? It should be "Bike to Work Unless It's Bad Weather", or "Bike to Work Year Around". I've come to terms with the fanatical streak that keeps me on my bike and I enjoy the side-benefits, but I must admit I don't have the least practical idea about how to convince others to become regular practical cyclists. That "regular" part is pretty important -- how do you make bike commuting a habit?

San Francisco April-May 2009

So, within one month I've managed to visit both Seattle and San Francisco, both west coast towns that are reputed to be bicycling cities (with the third of the West Coast Bicycling Triplets being Portland, of course.)

I arrived on Wednesday afternoon and arranged to go get drinks and a bite with my friend Scott at Zeitgeist, a fun bar and grill on Valencia street in the "SoMa" district of San Francisco. Arriving at my hotel and unpacking my bike, I discovered I'd left my pump at home (insert self-administered dope slap to forehead here) and so I looked up a nice bike shop called Freewheel just a few blocks south of Zeitgeist. I got down there in plenty of time, got the exact pump I was looking for (a Topeak Road Morph), and had time to do a little sightseeing on South Valencia before heading back north to grab a couple of beers and a burger with Scott.

Thursday night, my company Vectorworks was co-host of what turned out to be just a bang-up party —the City To Green Party— for architects, cyclists and artistic locals at the 3A Gallery on South Park street. In the gallery was an exhibit of track bikes from the second half of the 20th century. The gallery proprietors hung a show of track bikes on the walls and described the provenance of each bike, and detailed descriptions of the bike realization as a work of art. Here's a transcription of one of the the bike descriptions:

---------------------------------------------------------
Automoto, France, 1940s.

Cycles Automoto was a pioneering French maker of motorcycles and bicycles founded at the turn of the 20th century. Well regarded for thoughtful design and meticulous construction, Automoto grew in popularity until merging with the Peugeot group in the early 1960s. Part of that popularity is attributable to the company's wide ranging product offerings, whose bicycle line along grew to include 20 models. When an Automoto advertisement boldly declared, "Le Triomphe De La Qualité Française", few in sound conscience would have doubted the claim.

Built for the professional track racer
Restored condition
Magistroni cranks
Chater Lee Pedals
Major Taylor stem

Collection: American Cyclery of San Francisco
---------------------------------------------------------

Quite refreshing. A very well attended party, right to the end, as you can see from the photos. I've often wondered why the intersection-set of architects (particularly young architects) and bicyclists is so large. At least 30 attendees (including yours truly) arrived on bike and were graciously attended to out front of the gallery in a nice bike parking lot attended by the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition , a club of more than 10,000 members. Very, very nice work.

This poem was transcribed in chalk on the walls of the foyer of the 3A Gallery:

Ode to Bicycles

I was walking
down
a sizzling road:
the sun popped like
a field of blazing maize,
the
earth
was hot,
an infinite circle
with an empty
blue sky overhead.

A few bicycles
passed
me by,
the only
insects
in
that dry
moment of summer,
silent,
swift,
translucent;
they
barely stirred
the air.

Workers and girls
were riding to their
factories,
giving
their eyes
to summer,
their heads to the sky,
sitting on the
hard
beetle backs
of the whirling
bicycles
that whirred
as they rode by
bridges, rosebushes, brambles
and midday.

I thought about evening when the boys
wash up,
sing, eat, raise
a cup
of wine
in honor
of love
and life,
and waiting
at the door,
the bicycle,
stilled,
because
only moving
does it have a soul,
and fallen there
it isn’t
a translucent insect
humming
through summer
but
a cold
skeleton
that will return to
life
only
when it’s needed,
when it’s light,
that is,
with
the
resurrection
of each day.

- Pablo Neruda, 1956

I broke 1000 miles for the year so far on the last day of April on the streets of San Francisco. For me, this really cut it. Call me fickle (less than a month ago I was extolling Seattle,) but San Francisco is US Bicycling City Number One in my book.

Cycling and Meditation

As I've gotten older, I've mellowed a lot about spirituality. Spirituality of all flavors. I've gotten more into church, especially through singing. (I also pray a lot more these days.) On an irregular basis, I attend meditation sessions with my wife, where we do sitting and walking meditation. Meditation is about being totally present in your life, where you focus on breathing and try and quiet the internal monologue that goes on in your brain. I really enjoy meditating.

When you're cycling in traffic, and really paying attention, it's a form of meditation, too. Think about it -- to be safe, you'd better be 100% in the present. You better know what the traffic around you is doing, you'd better know what the road conditions are likely to be in the next quarter mile, you better know how the traffic signals are sequenced, and you better be watching for pedestrians to boot. (Hey, "pedestrians to boot" -- get it? Never mind.) There is really no room for having your mind wander, not if you want to be safe.

There's really no room to indulge in anger or reverse road rage, either. The only time all last year when I came close to having an accident was when I was agitated when I was signaling for a lane change and a rude driver came right around me, ignoring my signal. I got all bent out of shape, and yelled at the jerk. Within a minute, and while I was still agitated, I came within a hairs-breadth of turning left into oncoming traffic. I must have had a guardian angel give me a dope-slap to pull me out of my agitation and save me. I was really shaken by this incident and by my inattentiveness caused by my not letting go of the anger.

Seeing the danger in "reverse road rage", I resolved to mend my ways. When drivers act stupid, aggressive, or (as is usually the case) heedless, I still shout at them, but then I let it drop, and be over. It's the only way to be really safe. Hanging on to your anger and agitation is just purely dangerous.

Peace, sisters and brothers.

Age, Treachery, Gravity

This morning (it was chilly, low 30s) I was 5-1/2 miles into the commute, at the end of a quarter-mile gentle downslope, and a young cyclist on a nice street bike just blew by me. He was in his late 20s, I reckon, and had generally good handling skills (he could set up and take a corner at speed quite well.) I'd been just moseying along, so I picked up the cadence a bit to see if I could keep up with him. He'd put half a block on me, but I noticed two things as I tried to keep up that suggested he hadn't been out much this season: first, he was rocking his head and shoulders quite a bit; and second, he was slowing down on even gentle rises in the road.

My favorite climb of the morning, an 0.6 mile 3% grade, was a half mile ahead, so I just kept pace and bided my time to see what would happen when we hit it. Sure enough, as soon as the upgrade began, he began having trouble finding the right gear. He shifted into too low a gear and began struggling. He must have had a mirror of some kind, because I never saw him look around, but he pulled over as I went around, about an eighth-mile into the climb. I never looked back, but had a great climb, cresting at about 13 mph.

Let me tell you, there's nothing that stokes your self-esteem like smoking a guy half your age on an uphill, early season or no. (I know, I know, I had the "unfair" advantage of having been riding all winter.)

This made me wonder, though, about what kind of advice was out there so I went to Google over the lunch hour and typed in "how to climb hills". The first page of links was all about cycling -- no surprise there. Right up top, I found:

• Dr. Dick Rafoth's excellent Cycling Performance Tips website that has a host of scientific fact-based information;
• A very good entry in the late, great Ken Kifer's Bicycle Pages website about the strategy of climbing;
• A typically-un-informative entry from the eHow website. (I always find eHow unenlightening. It used to be a wiki-type cooperative editing environment, maybe still is, but the entries all seem so darned obvious. Tip number one: use cleats. Tip number two: use the proper gear. Duh.)
• A quite good article on the REI web site on climbing. Funny, all the times I've ordered stuff from REI, I never looked at that little "expert advice" tab. They have a host of articles on cycling. Many of them are about the kind of stuff to buy (what did you expect, after all?) but this one was pure technique.

So there's a smattering of what's out there. Google it yourself if you want to really pursue this topic. It's funny, I was filling out a questionnaire the other day and one of the questions was, "What do you like about your daily commute?" I answered, "The hills." It seem like a strange answer, but I've really come to an understanding with the gravity part of my ride. I used to really dislike the hills, but now I really like the variety that hills provide, not only variety in the terrain, but also variety from day to day. They serve as a great gauge of how I'm feeling physically and help me to know more about myself. When you hit the hill just right, at just the right cadence, and load your legs just so, so they're "glowing" when you get to the top, but you've still got something left, man, that is a great feeling.

P.U.M.A.

This is too ironic. Here's a verbatim quote from the GM introduction of the "P.U.M.A." auto-balancing two person vehicle made in joint venture with Segway:

"Imagine moving about cities in a vehicle fashioned to your taste, that's fun to drive and ride in, that safely takes you where you want to go, and "connects" you to friends and family, while using clean, renewable energy, producing zero vehicle tailpipe emissions, and without the stress of traffic jams," said Burns. "And imagine doing this for one-fourth to one-third the cost of what you pay to own and operate today's automobile. This is what Project P.U.M.A. (Personal Urban Mobility and Accessibility) is capable of delivering."

Yes. Imagine that. Let's imagine this as a series of bullet points, shall we?
A vehicle:
• tailored to your tastes
• fun to drive and ride
• safely takes you where you want to go
• "connects" you to friends and family
• using clean, renewable energy
• producing zero vehicle tailpipe emissions
• without the stress of traffic jams

I say that my commute (which is to say, my bike) can robustly answer "check!" to all of these with the possible exception of the "connects you to friends and family" item which seems to me to be more like a cell phone than a vehicle. But my bike, maybe kinda sorta, can be said to do even this.

This whole thing beggars the imagination. I've accused GM of incompetence before (before this abomination, even well before the first bailout).

But the point is, really: What does the fact that PUMA can be taken seriously say about us as a society, anyway? Are we so culturally averse to physical activity (and to sweat) that we'll do anything to avoid it, as beneath us? The Roman poet Juvenal described the ideal of the "healthy mind in the healthy body"; the apostle Paul referred to the "body as a temple". It does seem that there is something particularly American about this; you don't see this aversion to activity in Europe. Can this be laid at the feet of Madison Avenue, who basically elevated BO (and therefore sweat) to the level of a mortal sin?

And, does that guy in the photo above have any notion of just how truly dorky he looks? I mean, didn't everyone see Wall-E?

Have we really, truly become South Park? (Thanks to Geeks are Sexy for the reference.) Man, I would feel so much better if I knew this were GM perpetrating an elaborate joke. But I don't think so; they're a week late.

Bikes for the World

We interrupt this blog to present a brilliant idea. To begin thinking about this idea, ask yourself: How many unused bicycles are going to waste, simply collecting dust, in American garages? How could they best be put to use?

One continuing theme I hear on the liberal-media outlets that I frequent is that the third world needs development, not aid. Aid (in the form of money) is corrupting, too easily diverted, and ulitmately misses the target.

But... what if the aid were in the form of... bicycles?

Bikes for the World is a project of the Washington Area Bicyclist Association whose mission is to collect valuable but unwanted bicycles and related material--parts, tools, and accessories--in the United States and deliver them at low cost to community development programs assisting the poor in developing countries. The donated bikes provide needed and affordable transportation to laborers, micro businesspeople, farmers, health workers, and students.

As much as possible, Bikes for the World uses the donated bicycles to help set-up self-sustaining bicycle repair operations which can make enough money to pay the direct costs for subsequent container shipments of donated bicycle.

Think about donating, if you can, to this brilliant initiative. Even better, if you live in the Washington DC area, contribute your time and energy to fixing up and containerizing bikes.

PS: mileage update, 3/31: 721 miles. (This is where I was the third week of May last year. Yes!)

Progress / Condescension

So, first a progress report: I logged 180+ miles in February, which isn't so bad since I "lost" more than a week visiting Germany and Switzerland. (Not really lost, of course, although I came to dread hitting the hotel gym to ride a stationary bike -- bleah.) The good side was of course seeing how the "other half lives".

The hastily-snapped cellphone picture at right is a bike shelter we saw from the

train between Munich and Basel. Interesting bike racks. But also consider this is the first week in February. Many citizens, even in the elevated parts of semi-Alpine Western Europe, have integrated their bikes in their daily lifestyle. Bike, train, no car. At least not on a daily basis. It's definitely true that distances are smaller compared to the sprawling US, but I have to say, it is so refreshing to see this (and not just because of the brisk air.)

While we were in Basel, we had anything but nice weather (lots of rain and wind) but the practical cyclists were out, getting around, everywhere, at all hours of the day. On the coldest, windiest day, I saw a woman riding a bakfiets with her two little kids bundled up like two stuffed toys. Even I, a daily cyclist, saluted her unconsciously, but frankly, she didn't seem fazed.

Which brings me back to my experience since returning. On a couple of occasions, I've sort of 'snapped' at people who have commented on my cycling. Just after returning, when attending a yoga class, I was locking up my bike at the yoga center when an older woman (who was going to the same class as I) turned to me and said, "Ah, it's a sure sign of spring when the cyclists come out." I responded with as much abruptness as I could muster, "Oh, I cycle year 'round." (It just came out, really.) And just last week, I was biking to meet my wife at a doctor's office so I could put my bike in the back of the car and drive her home, a nurse at the office said, "that's so cute that you ride your bike everywhere," and I snapped back, "I'm the future."

I felt condescended to by these people. My dictionary defines "condescend" as "to show feelings of superiority". Certainly people driving cars have physical superiority. A very small car is still very large, heavy, and hot up against a bike. But to be treated in the diminutive makes me feel like these people are also claiming moral superiority, and I can't accept that. These people are ignorant. They don't understand the horrifying waste that they produce with their lifestyle, they haven't the imagination to see it. Since I've comprehended it, I can't just make it go away. So I do what I can. And I think that is worthy of respect, not condescension, not impatience.

I won't be holding my breath waiting for it, though.

David Lega: Motivation, Invention, Inspiration

My posts have been a little off this week, as I've been in Europe (Munich / Basel) at a series of management meetings for my job with Nemetschek North America, makers of the CAD product Vectorworks. (This product placement is done for the benefit of the GoogleSearch gurus in our marketing department. You know who you are :)

I attended, late last week, a remarkable motivation-type keynote talk by a world champion Paralympic athlete from Sweden named David Lega. David was born with massive physical disabilities as a result of a virus his mother contracted while pregnant. I won't go into detail on either his disabilities nor his many notable accomplishments, but rather direct you to his website so you can learn more. I will say that if you represent a company in need of a motivational speaker, David will provide an unforgettable talk. David is an athlete, an inventor, a writer, an entrepreneur, a force of nature.

What I want to focus on here is the vehicle that you see David using in the picture. It's a tricycle of unusual design. It is of David's invention (he said it was either the fourth or fifth generation, I don't remember exactly) and it's unique in the world. It's unique because of the unusual nature of David's disabilities. He has virtually no arm or hand function, so a conventional wheelchair (even an electric one with a hand control) is not useful. He's an active and accomplished athlete, so an electric chair with say a mouth control is not interesting nor attractive, because he wants to use the muscles he has (his legs have a limited range of motion).

Take a close look at it and you'll see it's a tricycle of (somewhat) standard layout, but lacking any sort of handlebar. This means that steering and propulsion are both accomplished with foot action. You push a little more with the right foot at just the right moment in the cycle to turn left, and vice versa to turn right. David has developed spectacular and perhaps unique capabilities with his feet, and watching him smoothly navigate this wheelchair around a room is quite remarkable. I wonder if all the people in the room appreciated the skills involved.