Ritual and Repetition

"Business in the front, party in the back, yeah!!!" 

Riding from the grocery store, I stopped on the side of the river path to watch the row boats. A grinning cyclist rode past - pointing at the front, then the rear of my bike in an enthusiastic Contador-style salute. 

Huh? Oh! Camera bag, flowers. Got it. But before I could say anything, he was gone. 

Riding to and from work assignments on a warm sunny day feels suspiciously good. Now that the snow is gone, I am making longer trips again, seeing parts of the city and suburbs that I've missed, encountering new characters. 

Grocery shopping can feel like a chore, except on those drawn out afternoons when the sun lingers and lingers. 

Back from a hard road ride, my legs feel too restless to sit. Nothing feels better than spinning on my city bike along the river to fetch some groceries. And flowers, to brighten up the kitchen. Sport, transport. Business, party. Weekdays, weekends.

On the way home I stopped to visit the Tiny Tree. We replanted this tree (a Dwarf Alberta Spruce, I am told) in some woods nearby in the first week of January. The ground was clear of snow then and we were lucky to get a warm day, when the soil was soft. I found a spot in a clearing that would get some sun. 

Afterward I regretted having planted the tree so close to home: Now I would feel compelled to check up on it. I visited every week. When the snow storms started, it was covered almost to the tip, and I was sure it wouldn't survive the cold. But every time the snow melted, there it was - emerging green as ever. It doesn't look much bigger than it did three months ago. But today I saw some buds resembling baby pine cones. 

Have a good weekend, and, as always - thank you for reading! 

The Surest Sign of Spring

Although Friday surprised us with a fresh foot of snow, it was nonetheless a glorious weekend. The plows made their rounds, the sun shone in a clear blue sky, the temperatures rose, and the scarves were distinctly loosened. Navigating through the still snow-covered streets, I could feel something new and fresh in the air - unmistakable signs of Spring.

There was the wet snow, softening under the sun's warm rays.

There were the delicate buds, with their promise of new leaves in the weeks to come.

There were the fences in need of mending, having unburdened themselves of heavy snow banks.

There was a fresher, younger quality of the afternoon sun's glow.

There were the pothole lakes cheerfully reflecting cerulean skies.

There were the colourful chairs on the lawns of local college campuses.

There were the freshly liberated bike lanes.

And perhaps the most noticeable change of all, were the dozens upon dozens of bikes. They emerged out of hibernation en masse, heralding the official start of Spring. 

Some of the bikes I had seen in the neighbourhood before, but not since November. 

Oh hello again, slate blue Mercier mixte. You look positively radiant!

Long time no see, copper Raleigh Lady Sports. Warming those old bones?

New handlebar tape this season, Bianchi Nuovo Racing?

Oh, but what's this here? You are new this year, aren't you, oh teal Dutch Gazelle with full chaincase?

And you, Babboe cargo trike? I haven't seen you around before. Have you moved to this neighbourhood over the winter? Welcome, welcome. 

A local university recently installed bicycle racks along the entire length of their rather expansive Science Center. After sitting largely empty since their installation, on Saturday the racks were suddenly 3/4th full - snow storm of the previous day notwithstanding. 

It was not a coordinated effort, but it surely felt like one. The neighbourhood bikes have had their say. And they've declared it the official start of Spring.

Errandeuring and Errant Weather

Today were possibly some of the worst conditions I have ever cycled in - a situation made all the more dramatic by the fact that I wasn't merely cycling; I was erandeurring. But let me start from the beginning. You see, there is an entire culture out there that thrives on turning transportation cycling into a sport in its own right - reinventing commuting as series of challenges to make it more interesting. While this approach is pretty much the antithesis of my own, I am nonetheless intrigued by it. When the utilitaire and coffeeneuring crazes swept the nation last year, I followed along with interest. Loosely modeled on randonneuring, these games involved keeping track of one's coffee shop and utility rides, complete with control cards and minimum mileage requirements. The authors of the Chasing Mailboxes blog in Washington, DC hosted the challenge, diligently collecting entries from participants all over the US, posting updates and results.

This winter they announced their latest project: the errandonnee. Participants are challenged to "complete 12 errands in 12 days and ride a total of 30 miles by bike between February 9-20." A detailed list of rules was again provided, along with control cards. I read through it all and decided - what the heck - to give this thing a try. While riding a minimum of 30 miles in errands over the course of 12 days would not be out of the ordinary for me, I wondered what it would be like to keep track of this mileage, to categorise it according to the rules, and in general to reframe everyday cycling as taking part in a challenge.

The thing I did not foresee, was that the challenge aspect would become quite real. On February 9th we had our blizzard, and on the next day I still did not feel like braving the streets on two wheels. So as of this morning, I had only 10 days to complete the 30 miles of errands. Not only was there plenty of snow still on the roads, but it was now also raining badly.

I may lack the words to adequately describe today's road conditions. There wasn't just snow, there was deep water. Temperatures had risen sharply overnight, with snowbanks melting and additional rain coming down. By mid-day, some streets were downright flooded, and in many cases the water concealed slush underneath. On top of this, it was raining quite hard, with poor visibility and all the extra traffic chaos that comes with that. I now own a bright yellow raincoat for days like this, and that's what I wore. I also always have my lights on when it rains, despite it being daytime.

Even along stretches where the road itself was mostly clear, turns were treacherous, as that was where deep water and uncleared snow were gathered. Street corners were also where snowbanks were at their highest, which, as I soon figured out, meant that cars turning onto the main road from side streets had poor visibility. After a couple of close encounters, I decided the safest place to ride was smack in the middle of the travel lane.

Mid-day traffic was bad, and being on a bike did not put me at an advantage this time. Between the snowbanks and the trucks, there was not always a way to cycle past the standing traffic. My pictures were taken close to home, on a street where I felt it was safe to get off the bike and photograph the conditions of the roads. But for most of my route it didn't feel right to stop. Rain kept coming down, cars were honking at each other and executing all sorts of crazy maneuvers, roads were flooded and/or still covered with snow, and the whole thing was more than a little stressful.

In the course of all this, I completely forgot that I was errandeuring, remembering it only once I'd returned home. So far, the awareness of taking part in a challenge has not made me feel any differently about doing errands by bike. I had to go out today either way, and riding was still preferable to walking in ankle-deep water.

My impression of the utilitaire, coffeeneuring and errandonnee family of challenges, is that they are largely for athlete cyclists who might normally drive for transportation, but are looking to do it more by bike. The competitive paradigm appeals to them, so they've extended it to transportation cycling as a form of motivation. But I do know of cyclists who are purely commuters and have been enjoying the challenges too. Ultimately, I see errandeuring as a celebration of cycling, with its elaborate rule structure as largely tongue in cheek. Now to check whether bonus points are in store for the epic road conditions I've endured...

Positively Biketastic

When I look back at 2012 (I know it's been a while, but I needed time to take it all in!) I remember it as the year when I started to notice a lot of positive changes in the cycling world around me. Positive changes not only in the widening selection of transport bikes available in local shops and not only in the public perception of bicycling, but also in the increasing amount of rapport, cooperation and even overlap between different "camps" of bicyclists. And I think this latter point is just as important as the others. We cyclists can be tribal and divisive; we can be each other's harshest, cruelest critics. But if we insist on identifying within rigid parameters and lashing out against each other's choice of bike, attire, and riding style, how can we hope for positive changes for cyclists as a group? 

When my cycling club, the Ride Studio Cafe, began to blur the lines between the randonneuring and racing cultures, I remember it felt as if a paradigm shift was taking place. They threw a big party, where cyclists of different stripes interacted with each other with a degree of enthusiasm that showed a genuine eagerness. Dynamo lighting, racks, and wool were discussed. Unexpected common interests were found. It was truly an exciting thing to be witnessing. 

At this same party, I finally met Maureen Bruno Roy, a Massachusetts-based professional cyclocross racer. In her off time Mo leads a regular life, and part of that regular life involves riding her pink mixte for transportation. For me, seeing Mo so happy and casual on her city bike was an encouraging moment: I had not encountered an athlete-cyclist outside of Europe before who saw value and usefulness in such bicycles. But to Mo the value is pretty clear, and she credits her attitude to her time racing in Belgium. "There were these Dutch bikes, and I rode them to get around when I wasn't racing; it was great!" 

Around the same time, a local man named Jeff Palter got himself a Brompton folding bike and began commuting on it, posting excitedly on Twitter about how much he enjoyed that. If you're outside New England that name might not mean anything to you, but Mr. Palter happens to be the CEO of the Northeast Velodrome and the owner of Cycle Loft - one of the biggest roadie shops around. CycleLoft is also the main sponsor of the Northeast Bicycle Club - the largest local racing club and the very club that offers the "infamous" paceline rides that so divided my readership two summers ago. Until recently, it would have been difficult to imagine anyone associated with this camp entertaining the idea of riding around on anything but a racing bike with a backpack. I was more than a little surprised when Jeff approached me about sponsorship, explaining that CycleLoft was expanding into the city bike market. 

"Looks like the war is over," said a local cyclist when I shared this news with her. I guess sometimes, with all the insults flung about, it can indeed feel like a war - especially when some are described as "riding tanks" and others as being "weekend warriors." With a chuckle, I pictured an army of speeding Cervelos clashing with an army of menacingly rolling Workcycles (incidentally - a Dutch bike company founded by an American, who got his start at Fat City). 

Some time in December, I was approached by Bicycling Magazine and invited to write a weekly online column about "city bikes and gear." I was initially skeptical about what they had in mind, but it seemed pretty straightforward: They wanted to expand their coverage beyond racing, to encourage people to commute by bike, introducing them to a variety of bikes and accessories for the purpose. I agreed to write the column. It's a short-term contract and I may not be the one doing it in the long run, but I hope to give it a running start. Or rather, a re-start: Historically, such coverage is not new for Bicycling. A 1978 copy I found of the magazine includes articles such as "Choosing a Three-Speed Commuting Bike" and "Road Test: the Bickerton Folding Bicycle." These things are cyclical. Hopefully the current cycle, with its interest in transportation and city bikes, will be around for a while. 

A few days ago I read a story in the New York Times about a man who, a couple of times a week, commutes from the suburbs outside New York City to his office in Manhattan on his racing bike. It's a 40 mile ride and he uses the milage for training. He does it year round, sometimes in snow. I thought it was a cool story, especially after the cyclist himself provided additional details on Velocipede Salon. Then today I read a story in Atlantic Cities in response to it, about ordinary New Yorkers commuting. The author mentions that some readers criticised the NYT piece for "alienating [ordinary people] who might want to ride to work," but I am glad the author herself did not go that route. Instead she gave examples of some interesting New Yorkers who ride and urged cyclists to unite in promoting their shared interests. 

For those of us who have been cycling in major North American cities over the past few years, it is hard not to notice that things are changing. Now more than ever, I feel there is room for everyone who loves to be on a bike to promote their style of riding without criticising others in the process. Whether 4 miles or 40, whether in a business suit or a skin suit, whether on a cheap or expensive bike, bottom line is: It's all positively biketastic. The more we understand that, the better off we will be.

Beware of the Warm and Cozy

Watching Bikeyface ride around the studio in circles as the sun shone weakly through frost-covered windows, I had a terrible realisation: If we weren't careful, we could fall prey to the Cozy Neighbourhood Winter Madness Syndrome. Ever since I moved to the Cambridge/Somerville area it's gotten me every year. 

Not to be confused with the Winter Doldrums or Seasonal Depression, the Cozy Neighbourhood Winter Madness Syndrome is characterised by the claustrophobia of becoming trapped by winter in our immediate surroundings. Particularly vulnerable are residents of certain urban yet peripheral neighbourhoods like ours. On the one hand, our neighbourhood is self-sufficient and has everything we need: Cafes, grocery stores, shops and a multitude of other services are within walking distance or just a short bike ride away. On the other hand, it is village-like and does not feel altogether connected to the outside world. This makes it both convenient to stay close to home once the freezing temps and snow set in, and frustrating to feel yourself trapped in a pattern of doing just that. Soon, Boston proper begins to seem as distant and foreign as Hong Kong; the outer suburbs as desolate and forbidding as Siberia. Sure, we know that it's all in our heads, that we could and should venture out beyond our shrunken travel radius. But the 'ville keeps us firmly in its clutches with its cozy cafes, charming shops and poorly plowed roads leading out of town. "Stay put, baby," the neighbourhood whispers seductively, "it's cold outside." As the winter progresses, we slowly begin to go mad from lack of contact with the outside world. Before we know it, we are speaking a dialect that only the local coffee shop baristas understand. When we finally emerge in spring the folk across the river can sense we're different.

Well, not this year. I was worldly now. I was tough. I would not be deterred by the warm, inviting glow of the Wine and Cheese Cask whilst attempting to ride past it on my way out of town. 

"Bikeyface," I said, my voice ringing with festive  determination. "I am prepared to go anywhere for lunch! I have donned many layers of wool and my bike is geared for adventure." Bravely, we bundled up and stepped into the cold. Things were going well, until we happened past a new coffee house down the road. We tried not to look directly at it. But oh how tiny it was. How comfy the people inside looked. Through the fogged up window we could make out a small unoccupied table with two chairs, just waiting for us...

Next thing I recall, I was sitting across from Bikeyface, chewing on a delicious spinach pie and sipping a hot cappuccino. A David Bowie song played in the background. Humming along, the barista glanced in our direction meaningfully, as if to say "You see ladies? No need to go anywhere; we got everything you need right here." A customer approached the counter and ordered a hot beverage. It was only January, and already he spoke in the local dialect. 

Don't Go There?

Got an email from a woman who is about to start cycling to work. It's only a 4 mile commute each way, and she is more than comfortable with the distance. But between her own neighbourhood and her office is an area known to have high crime rates. She is concerned about passing through it, especially on her way home after dark. "I would not walk there alone. How do I know if it's safe to ride my bike?" 

Personally, I feel far more comfortable cycling through questionable neighbourhoods than walking there or waiting for the subway/bus. But overall I live in a decent area. We have occasional shootings and bank robberies here, but none of the places I ride through feel too rough or dangerous. And while I've had a few uncomfortable encounters over the years, the bike allowed me to ride away and avoid serious conflict. Still, in the past I've lived in cities with definite "don't go there" zones. I had not thought of what I would do if I had to commute there by bike. 

What determines whether you consider an area safe for cycling? Do you take special precautions in neighbourhoods that are known for high crime rates, or do you plan your route so as to avoid them altogether? 

Cycling without Fear

I talk to a lot of beginner cyclists who are afraid to ride on the road. Some try to conquer their fears by riding anyway, only to find that they end up being more afraid, not less. The proximity of the passing cars frightens them so much, that their bike handling suffers. This in turn makes them more likely to experience close calls and drivers honking at them, terrifying them even more. It becomes a vicious cycle. 

Fear is a nasty, crippling emotion. I don't mean the philosophical kind, where you are thinking "Gee I don't think I can handle this." What I mean is the visceral kind: that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, adrenaline, heart racing, trembling, weak at the knees. It is debilitating and difficult to control. But it can be avoided.

If an aspect of cycling scares you at a strong visceral level, my suggestion would be to take it down a notch - to a point where you do not experience the fear - and work from there. If cycling on busy roads gives you panic attacks, try riding on quiet side streets exclusively, until that feels so comfortable that you are ready for the next step. If even that is too much, stick to bike paths, parks and empty lots until you are ready for side streets. If your neighbourhood has none of these things, try riding in the middle of the night or very early morning (with good lights of course). Even in a busy city, the roads will be nearly empty. Whatever it takes, find a way to ride so that you are relaxed and not in panic mode. I would apply this to every aspect of cycling - from riding for transportation, to learning new skills, to trying drop bars, clipless pedals, and riding off road. 

It's also important to understand that when we ride with friends and spouses, their level of comfort may be very different from ours. Without meaning any harm, they might coax or pressure us to do things we cannot handle. When we are ready for it, being encouraged to push ourselves can be a good thing. I've certainly received more than a couple of nudges that were helpful. But overcoming nervousness or timidity is one thing. Intense, limbs-atremble fear is not good and can affect our behaviour in unpredictable ways. It is our responsibility to know the difference.

Conquering one's fears is a worthwhile endeavor. But it takes time and there is more than one way to approach it. In my experience, those who find cycling more frightening than enjoyable, stop cycling. Therefore, I suggest sticking to riding in a way that feels fun and avoiding riding in a way that feels terrifying. Cycling should be a positive experience.

Changing Commutes

When I first started riding for transportation in Boston, my trips were about 2-3 miles each way and took me almost exclusively through relatively flat urban areas, bike trails, and quiet side streets. But as the nature of my work changed over the past few years, I found myself making more long distance trips that took me out of town. The change snuck up on me gradually. But when I look at my typical week today, a 20 mile round trip with some hills thrown in has become normal.

The effect of this on my choice of transportation bikes has been significant. I could not tackle most of my trips today on a heavy upright 3-speed geared for the city and still arrive at my destination energetic and presentable - which is, after all, my priority. I need low gears for the hills; I need speed to cover the distance within a reasonable time. Naturally, these practical considerations have influenced my preferences.

On the other hand, the longer trips have not changed how I dress on the bike. I would describe myself as a low maintenance dresser, so I've never been one to wear carefully pressed pastel satin suits and stiletto heels in the first place. But I do wear mostly skirts and dresses - always have; it's just what I feel comfortable in. So far I've had no issue continuing to do that.

My views on the feasibility of cycling for transportation continue to expand as I ride longer distances. I still do not feel the need for a car. In fact, I enjoy traveling by bike now more than ever - the terrain is more varied, with less urban congestion. As far as challenges, time management is the biggest issue - with more careful planning required to get everything done by bike. Poorly plowed suburban roads in the winter will be a possible obstacle in future, though this past winter that was never a problem.

I am looking forward to writing more on this, addressing topics relevant for those with long commutes who still want to ride in their regular clothes. When I started out I never imagined that I would be doing this kind of cycling, yet here I am.

Has a changed commute altered your perspectives on transport bicycles, bike-appropriate clothing, and the feasibility of cycling for transportation?

How a Grocery Store Won Me Back

There is a grocery store nearby that I've always neglected despite its proximity. They did not have a great selection of foods. They often sold stuff that was spoiled or expired. At the the checkout, the cashiers would argue with me when I declined plastic bags. And the bike parking outside was iffy. This store is so close I could easily walk to it, but carrying bags of groceries is just easier on a bike. And since I did food shopping by bike anyway, I figured I might as well shop at the stores I preferred, even if it meant riding further. 

I suspect that other residents of our neighbourhood felt similarly, because about half a year ago the nearby store began to aggressively reinvent itself. They cleaned up, reorganised their merchandise, added an organic foods section. They expanded their selection of produce. The quality control is much improved. They now sell reusable shopping bags and don't argue when customers decline plastic. 

But best of all, they allow me to roll my Brompton inside and use it as a shopping cart. No questions or comments, other than the occasional "Look, it's a bike and shopping cart in one!" Considering that other shops have thrown me out even when I've walked in with the bike fully folded, the permissive attitude of this store came as a pleasant surprise. Walking in with a small-wheel shopper is really no different from pushing a huge shopping cart; they get it. Now I shop there almost exclusively. Not only have they improved their store, but they've made shopping by bike a breeze.

While those of us who ride small wheel shoppers are in the minority, many cyclists report that their shopping preferences are guided by the store's bike-friendlieness. This can refer to a number of things, from adequate bike parking, to the parking lot being safe to navigate, to the location itself being reachable via a bike-friendly route. Do these considerations play a role in where you do your grocery shopping?

In Appreciation of John Forester

Browsing the DFW Point to Point blog the other day, I learned about the recent release of the 7th edition of John Forester's Effective Cycling - that classic tome espousing the vehicular cycling philosophy. Thinking about this book, I feel great affection toward my own tattered blue copy.

When it comes to bicycle infrastructure, Metro Boston has changed considerably since I first began riding here. In Spring 2009 the majority of my routes involved traveling along streets with no infrastructure what so ever. When I discovered Vehicular Cycling, I thus interpreted it not as something that was a matter of agreeing or disagreeing with, but as a necessary tool for the realities of my environment. John Forester believes that bicyclists should behave like vehicles, sharing roads with motorised traffic. Effective Cycling gives precise and detailed instructions on how to do that.

As an absolute beginner, I purchased an older edition of the book and found it immensely helpful. It educated me about traffic maneuvers from the bottom up: Starting with very basic concepts that I was able to implement right away, then getting into more nuanced ideas that became useful once I gained a bit of experience and courage. And just as importantly, Effective Cycling got me into an "I can do this. I have a right to do this." frame of mind. It seems almost hard to believe now, but at the time I was often the only bicyclist out on the roads and there were no social or infrastructural cues to indicate that it was okay to ride a bike on the street. No sharrows, no "share the road" signs, no other people on bikes. Drivers would routinely shout "You're not supposed to be here!" at me, incredulous at my very presence. Effective Cycling gave me the confidence and the skills to operate in that kind of environment, and to do it safely.

Today there are bike lanes, sharrows and signage along most of my routes through the city. There are also many other cyclists out on the roads. The combined effect of this has been an increased awareness and acceptance of bicycling. The infrastructure here is far from perfect. The drivers are still far from nice. But nonetheless things are much better than they were three years ago. There is less hostility, less stress. It no longer seems abnormal to ride in the city, and cycling feels more accessible to beginners.

Extreme proponents of the Vehicular Cycling philosophy are against bicycling infrastructure of any kind, believing that separated paths and bike lanes are not in the best interest of cyclists. Often they will actively fight against infrastructure, making it a point to attend town meetings and speak out against it. Conversely, those who favour infrastructure tend to position themselves against Vehicular Cycling, viewing it is a discredited philosophy and a lost cause. But from where I stand, this battle manufactures an unnecessary and ultimately damaging dichotomy.

While I have experienced the benefits of cycling infrastructure firsthand, I nonetheless find the principles of Vehicular Cycling indispensable in environments where said infrastructure is unavailable or imperfect - or when I choose to operate a bicycle on the open road for other reasons. I do not agree with John Forester on every point, but I value much of his advice on riding in traffic. I would encourage cyclists of all persuasions to keep an open mind and give Effective Cycling a read.

Cycling in Lower Manhattan

I am in New York City for a few days, with all sorts of nice cycling people who have gathered here for the New Amsterdam Show this weekend and the Bobbin Bicycles/ Adeline Adeline party last night. One of the first familiar faces I encountered was the beautiful Julie, of the Julie blog. This lady works in the fashion industry and rides all over the city on her white and pink Linus loop frame named Kate Middleton... which I think speaks for itself: Cycling in New York has certainly become more accessible over the past few years.

On my way down here on the train I realised that I had not been to the city since maybe 2008 - which is almost 4 years ago now. I have to confess that I don't love New York. It's not that I hate it. I just fail to see the magic and romance in it that everyone gushes about. Maybe it's because my family briefly lived in Washington Heights at a time when it was anything but romantic and my impressions are forever coloured by those childhood memories. Whatever the reason, I just see New York as a very large, very crowded city where you have to watch yourself despite all the art galleries and coffee shops and lofts and trendy boutiques that have popped up in neighbourhoods that used to be considered "dangerous." 

And despite hearing about all the new cycling infrastructure here, I couldn't easily picture myself riding through the streets of New York, at least not right away. What about the dense traffic? The notoriously aggressive drivers? Walking from Penn Station to Tribeca it was hard to imagine myself sharing these busy streets on two wheels.

But an hour later I was doing exactly that - on a beautiful Retrovelo, courtesy of Adeline Adeline. While my travel radius was mostly limited to lower Manhattan, it was still a surprise to experience how relatively easy riding in the city has become.

I started out on the West Side Highway bicycle path, which is quite impressive. The 5.5 mile stretch of major road along the Hudson River has a protected greenway running through it the entire way, with somewhat frequent but well designed interruptions where bicycles even get their own green light.

The lanes are wide, allowing bicyclists to pass pedestrians and each other if need be. Cyclists were courteous and used their bells. Pedestrians behaved predictably. With views of the city ahead and views of the river alongside, it is a great path.

Many of the piers in this are have been renovated and developed with all sorts of little restaurants an recreational complexes. The weather was pretty terrible on Thursday afternoon - heavily overcast skies and cold temperatures - but there were lots of people strolling along the piers and enjoying their day.

One great thing about New York City, is that no one found it strange at all when I would stop to photograph the bike. In Boston passers-by will sometimes comment how wacky it is that I am standing there and taking close-ups of a bicycle, but here no one batted an eye.

Having had my fill of the West Side Highway, I took to the streets. Some streets have bike lanes and others don't, but honestly I found that it did not matter hugely. The bike lanes were so frequently blocked by double parked cars and delivery vehicles that a degree of comfort with vehicular cycling was necessary regardless. There was a lot of traffic, but it was slow moving and drivers seemed accustomed to cyclists. I got honked at a couple of times, but so did everyone else around me - honking just seems to be a way of communicating here. When I needed to make a left turn and didn't  change lanes early enough, a taxi driver saw my predicament and let me squeeze in ahead of him with an impatient but not unfriendly wave. Overall it was entirely manageable and not any more stressful than riding in downtown Boston. 

I will not be in town long enough to experience riding in the city as a person living here would, but my Thursday afternoon jaunt was a nice introduction to cycling in New York. After 4 years away it was certainly the best "welcome back" I could have hoped for. I will eventually be posting about the New Amsterdam Show and all the other things I am doing here, and you can check my twitter feed for "live coverage" snapshots of all sorts of neat things. Have a good weekend!

Transitional Weather

Last week we had our first real day of spring. The sun had that special gentle quality to it and overnight an army of crocuses tore through blankets of dried leaves. All around nature seemed to be smiling. Riding my bike in a skirt, tights, long sleeve top and wool blazer, I was pretty comfortable in the 56°F temperature. And I was also amazed how many cyclists I saw out in t-shirts and shorts!

When finally it is warm and sunny after a long winter, it's tempting to dress as if it is summer. But with the transitional weather in March and April, this is also the time of the year a lot of people tend to get sick. After all, 50-60°F is not really that balmy. And even with the kinder temperatures, Spring (in New England at least) tends to be windy - and the wind hits cyclists directly in the face and chest with more force than it does pedestrians.

It took me a while to find a comfortable balance dressing for Spring's faux warmth, but after a couple of years I've more or less settled on a system. The trick for me is to keep it light, but windproof in the torso and to keep my neck covered. I find windbreakers too casual for everyday wear, and I also tend to sweat in them. But I like lightweight wool blazers and thin (unlined) trench coats. They are breathable, and the fabric is dense enough to protect from the wind without being too heavy. 

My eyes are sensitive to the sun and wind, and Spring brings a powerful mixture of both. On the bike, my sunglasses pretty much stay on most of the time and I smear moisturiser or vaseline around my eyes on windy days. 

As far as keeping my neck covered, lightweight silk scarves work well once big wool scarves get too warm and bulky. They also fold up very small if it gets too hot for them in the middle of the day. Recently a friend introduced me to the amazing world of inexpensive "cowboy" scarves. She has a collection of silk scarves in every colour and pattern imaginable, and she buys them from these online cowboy stores for like $20 each. Done! 

Dressing for work on the bike can be tricky in the springtime, and of course different strategies will work for different people. I don't like being too hot or too cold, but I also don't want to stuff my pannier with pounds of "just in case" layers when I leave the house, so I like a system without too much bulk. What's your method of dressing for transitional weather? 

Failure to Yield and Crosswalk Design

In Somerville, MA we have this community path for bicyclists and pedestrians that stretches all the way to the neighbouring town of Arlington, grazing Cambridge along the way. The path is great, except that it is frequently interrupted by busy roads and the crossings can be challenging. We had this one particular interruption, where cyclists had to make a complicated series of turns and negotiate a major intersection in order to get from one stretch of the path to another. Then sometime last year, construction began at that intersection. Rumor had it they were making a crosswalk that would cut through the series of islands - a straight line connecting the disjointed stretches of community path. That is exactly what they did, and the new intersection was unveiled a couple of months ago. 

It's hard to capture the whole thing in photographs; it is vast and consists of 4 separate crosswalk segments. But the pictures above each show a chunk that should give you an idea of how it's designed. In 3 of the 4 segments there are traffic lights with clear red and green signals. And there is another small segment not visible here where there is just a crosswalk without a traffic light. In theory the design is great, because it creates a direct line of travel connecting the community path, without forcing cyclists to make an elaborate detour. In practice however, there is one big problem: Drivers don't yield. Some drivers make right turns on a red light at full speed without even checking whether anyone is in the crosswalk, others make U-turns on a red light, and others still simply run the red light altogether. In some instances the drivers obviously see me, but proceed anyway, forcing me to stop abruptly in the middle of the intersection or to speed up if I am already in their line of travel. 

Roughly half the time I go through this intersection, something like this happens - to the point where I absolutely do not trust it anymore. It's a shame that all this work was done, and drivers' failure to yield ruins it. It is also frightening that the crosswalks look so nice and friendly, while in reality it is quite dangerous. I cannot really think of a solution, but it's clear that something needs to change in the local drivers' mentalities in order for attempts to create decent, convenient infrastructure to be truly successful. The infrastructure itself is not always enough.