Traffic Chlordane

Right of way? Have you heard of it? Ever read Driver Education Manual? One shouldn’t enter an intersection with no chance of clearing it. This blocks all vehicles and slows flow for you, too. Sometimes happens when a light ahead is red; offenders aren’t going anywhere, but insist on holding spot in queue by blocking cross streets or parking lot exits. Whenever arriving at any intersection with an intention of turning left, be prepared to come to a full stop. Aggravates others when you angle into oncoming traffic; all that does is increase your own wait. Anonymous inside cars, aggressive scofflaws forever trying to recover lost time due to poor planning incite road rage.

Motorists habitually hinder other motorists. Why hold exposed bicyclists to a higher standard? Toxic traffic codes in some states demand that bicyclists “never encumber cars” by going single file and sticking to right within a yard of road edge. Must mean when cyclists aren’t themselves impeded by parked cars and poorly kept shoulders. Furthermore, must call “road edge” the boundary of travel lane, since use of gore areas, gutters, and parking spaces is prohibited for all moving vehicles. Any attempt to regulate two-wheelers resembles pesticide use. As a motorist if you feel beset by bicyclists, blame poor infrastructure and state neglect of federal laws, why pedalers, acutely aware they’re vulnerable, might salmon and shoal despite incessant unnecessary warnings.

Licenses are issued to protect everyone from the brutal horsepower and crushing weight of vehicles. Did you ever drive distracted or tipsy? Find yourself in blind or slippery conditions? Bad things happen despite good intensions. Motorists may well be 100% at fault in any bike-car accident, but that doesn’t make them evildoers to be vilified and victimized by fines. Official causes for such collisions are disputed; hooking, overtaking and t-boning are how most occur, but always due to a lack of awareness. In 2 of 3 cases, poor visibility is directly responsible. Can’t establish laws on momentary lapses of reason.

The NHTSA monitors motoring and recommends policies. They claim traffic fatalities have declined, though drivers, legalized vehicles, and reasons for frustrations are up around 15%. “Since 1980, the greatest contributions to the improved conditions have come from law enforcement efforts, in particular, a focus on detecting and removing impaired drivers from the road and the development of general deterrence and effective public information and education (PI&E) programs.” As Labann always said, removing Neanderthals from mix reduces public’s costs and risks. Revoking or suspending licenses does help, but usually only happens after tragedies occur. Automatic 3-strikes-and-you’re-out suspension won’t be made law as long as Big Oil lobbies control Congress. They muscled aside safer alternatives in bikes, busses and trains, since cooperatively they could replace cars altogether.

From year 2000, number of accidents has increased and deaths leveled. Car accidents, 5 million annually, are almost always reported. About 1%, 50,000, result in fatalities. Statistics note 150,000 bike accidents, although twice that go unreported since they don’t result in injury or loss. Less than 0.5% are fatal. Because bikes roll, they absorb some impact in rear collisions, but not t-bones. Ten times as many pedestrians die where no crosswalks or sidewalks exist. Cross referencing official sources, you are from 10 to 25 times safer riding a bike than driving a car. Counterintuitive? Not really. Speed kills. Crumple zones, roll cages, and seat belts are mitigations, not preventions; along with insurance, they encourage risk taking and extenuate transgressions. Decriminalizing bicycling would remove cars, save lives, and silence rants as this. Fear mongering and purposeless regulation poisons potential.

Look! Deplane.

Why do distractions tempt so reliably? You’ll watch anything on television, even a rerun with a midget on a bicycle pointing excitedly at visitors arriving by plane to his isolated South Seas Island resort. Or was it a golf cart? Sports appease the masses, divert resentment, and encourage belonging. Travel constitutes one distraction after another, pure immersion in misunderstood unfamiliarity, thus it’s just about the most attractive activity ever. One despises own surroundings, as palatial as they may be, due to desperate sameness, yet laments having left once drudgery inevitably commences. Conniving tacticians take advantage of both bored and homesick alike. But when legendary domestique George Hincapie points out 20 great places to spin, who wouldn’t look?

Drivers, so exasperated by their commutes in snarled traffic, endanger lives for extemporaneous email. Labeled DORCs (Distracted Operators Risk Casualties), a like named nonprofit asks for donations to gripe about texting, apparently unaware of DORCs (Disgruntled Off Road Cyclists), who regularly mountain bike away from such irresponsible motorists. Personally prefer pavement. No point whining when drivers scream past; they fret over text at next red light and trigger sequence, so cyclists can cruise right through. Anyway, as an transportation enabler, bikes are more like computers, smartphones or tablets than automobiles, jets, or trucks; bikes steadily flow information and surround riders with sensations, while motors blindly drag around passengers and stuff under a sheltering shell. Cyclists can leave road altogether for lawn or sidewalk, leisurely stop, and take a call or text without blocking traffic.


Crowds often fear, seldom embrace alternatives, wait for anyone else to make first move. Settlers followed explorers much later when safer. Therefore, ancient mundane sports persist as participatory recreation. So how did bicycling become the new golf? Ball mashers in droves are decamping courses, deplaning indefinitely, leaving carts, and opting for local jaunts that reveal resources and threats on their own fantasy island. Nationwide, during >500 million rounds 69 people died golfing in 2013, mostly when hit not by balls but lightning. By comparison, in 4.2 billion trips 726 cyclists died in 2012, a roughly equivalent fatality risk by time-consuming sessions. Costs are diverging; golfing fees have gotten too dear while bicycle prices decline. Watch for increasing knots of slow creepers and speedy pace-lines on back roads.

You don't need a group ride to go, but must lug own necessities, maintain bike, and prepare in advance. Going far and often enables riding solo all day. Without rainless warmth no wheedle works. Some cyclists say they won’t emerge until temperature in degrees exceeds their age in years, akin to golfers who aim to shoot their age in 18 holes, though more score their weight while they snack and wait on each tee. Sunday's 65° ride revealed too few to stir excitement or support their claim. Those obsessed say it never rains on courses or routes, but most agree it’s intolerable to pass through security at airports, so passenger departures have steadily declined since 2007, even if chance of dying consequently is 1:7,000,000.

Taxon Diaphane

Certain writings don’t fit well into blog format, i. e., full length books, intense essays, nonfiction narratives, some novellas. Blog readers tolerate 3 paragraphs. Anything longer needs a seamstress to ease stress in its seams, that is, requires edit encapsulation, or wears out its welcome right away. A plethora of words seems as worthless as leaves in a swale, spontaneously transitions from confidently natural to dangerously nugatory, and ushers sand down proverbial hourglass. The elegance of poetry partly derives from its occupying very little space and saying nothing essential to survival. So how do you distribute a dreadful expedition into bad taste? Helps to sort works among appropriate sites.

Labann opened an account on Wattpad Mobile and posted 2 fairly recent, wildly experimental pieces.
 One is an essay entered into an international competition that dared to question the validity of facts in an information age. Other is a nonfiction adventure from 50 years ago with a hard sell based on bugs, drugs, guns, roads, rock&roll, sex and sorrow. Both sound outrageous when so said. Won’t bemoan being able to read on a smartphone. Might consider posting chapters from book if readers give them a look.


World was once quite different. Trees lined narrow lanes before electrical lines mutilated them. Fruiting and ornamental varieties now lack former vigor. Honeysuckle and rambling roses no longer lovingly smother fences. On humid nights diaphanes flickered as they flew lazily around neighborhood shrubbery. Lampyrinae, the huge subfamily to which they belong, was historically used as a garbage taxon to collect any beetle that glows despite diverse morphology. None thrive where defoliation and pollution devastate. Cyclists notice but not motorists except to complain of protein splats on their windshields. Children jailed these so called fireflies in jars before drivers, pesticides and pets decimated. A bug you can see through shows ecological loss through its absence. Nature's May Day warnings tax memory and wax subtle.

Before technology those without sheer access would celebrate wonderful words artfully chosen, but only when confined where they could be conveniently controlled, such as closed forums, dusty libraries, or exclusive museums, likewise fearsome personalities and whatever they produced. All Archimedes asked for was a place to stand to leverage earth in space. Nowadays, media clog emanates from literary smog of wannabes agog. An idea you share might not be accepted and won’t pay for what you need today. Great authors can’t expect their effort to have any effect, even those that comfort. Unsupported, they too will disappear like diaphanes.

Schemes to Maintain

Leave it to The Atlantic to exaggerate the horror: Cyclists riding on sidewalks! Rather than being a problem, it attests to bad infrastructure and dereliction of duty by responsible DOT. Under certain conditions it’s perfectly legal. Ambiguity rules elsewhere, only prohibited in a few states. Federal policies already require equal infrastructure for biking, hiking and motoring. Highways cannot bar cyclists from crossing at reasonable intervals including bridges or riding parallel. Biking routes can’t stop any more than motoring thoroughfares. Boulevards must have shoulders into which drivers can pull over in an emergency, if only to take a cell call or text. Gore areas and shoulders are all cyclists need to coexist with motorists on busy roads, and you need nothing on side streets other than smooth, swept pavement. Formal bike lanes or paths are often unnecessary except where conditions force too much traffic into too little space, but painted stripes are cheap and easy.

Registered drivers complain that they pay for roads and so deserve to drive unencumbered. Nonsense. First, they don’t pay alone: Revenue gets collected from many sources including taxes on $6 billion in bicycle sales every year. Second, cyclists and walkers hardly ever slow motorists unless driving illegally in bike lanes, gutters, or on sidewalks. Third, other/unlicensed drivers threaten everyone, not unmotorized, vulnerable users. If frustrated they are in your way, blame your DOT for not accommodating them separately. Nobody is disrespected and inconvenienced more than cyclists. The Atlantic’s agenda doesn’t address worse hazards. Why don’t they report on bus, SUV or tractor trailer abuse? Commerce declines upon bad news. Schemers construe their own taboos.

Roads are empty most of the time. You can monitor this for yourself by sitting attentively and ticking off passing vehicles. Experts calculate the collective footprint of 214 million cars in America at 760 square miles, smaller than Rhode Island. Somewhat less than two hundred million registered motorists drive on average only 1.7 hours/day. Nation’s 4 million miles of roadways combined with parking spaces occupy an area estimated at 61,000 square miles, bigger than 30 of 50 states including Florida or Georgia, 3/4 the size of all farmed land, a wide swath that would wrap Earth’s equator 156 times. So, moving vehicles take up <1.1% of pavement, leaving 98.9% of roads empty 22.3 hours per day. Nation allots each driver 80 square miles of paved space. Nevertheless, idiots still collide >5 million times per year. Yet many drive their entire lives without the least mishap. Some of this can be explained by everyone wanting to commute through congested areas at the same time. But the more lonesome a road, the more ridiculous the chances drivers will take. Every long straightaway has a suicide curve at which scores have already died without any remediation or even signs. Perhaps they should make such situations safer by providing alternatives. Only <1% of budget goes to bicycling and >99% to motoring with a focus on flowing ever more cars through areas that exclude cycling. This is illegal and lacks any balance whatever. Cyclists consider such points every time they take to roads.

Facts made available on Internet is now so numerous you wonder if anyone can make sense of them. Depends greatly upon what question you want answered. If official sources can deceive and pervert with statistics, why can’t Labann entertain and expose follies with them? Situations that kill sustain certain industries, coffin makers, emergency rooms, funeral parlors, insurance companies. Commerce flows and death spirals on nation’s roadways, while cyclists spin and take it all in. Rants majority ignores echo hollowly.

Efflux Riparian

What attracts humans to water? Endless thirst? Despite floods, people pay a premium to live alongside bays, coves, estuaries, lakes, ponds, or rivers, sometimes want burial at sea. Frequent fog and rain cut any sense of posh riparian space. During storms a rising sea is an unseen menace. Droplets of water exhibit cohesion; they are chemically designed to chase and cling. Humans flock and gang together, or insist, even stalk, whenever ignored. Tears sting with salt. Also like seawater, blood dissolves, foams, pulses, perhaps stains, and rushes to intermingle. A body wants to be inside another body, back in a warm, wet sack. At 7 weeks embryos of fish and humans appear identical.

Aquatic craniates are man’s earliest ancestors, evolutionarily speaking, and everybody still has structures related to fins and gills. So, a woman does need a man like a fish needs a bicycle, after all, which is to say a partner for species propagation if not traditional monogamy.

In contemporary Russia, Pussy Riot rejects patriarchy and pretty much has had it with Putin’s repressive politics. Barely adults, they’ve already spent years incarcerated for their dissent, as portrayed in recently screened HBO documentary, A Punk Prayer, directed by Mike Lerner and Maxim Pozdorovkin. Not confined to Eastern Europe, female issues peaked in 2013, a year of gender controversy. Conservative policies that exclusively cater to state religions endlessly result in tentacles of inequality. Yet without prayer and respect world would definitely be poorer, perhaps unlivable. Studies in America report that females get 75-93% as much as males for same jobs. Their view to the top is clear through a prohibitive glass ceiling. Why let an eroding undercurrent poison business, governance and interpersonal relations? Why ignore 50% of the population? Why not listen instead and proactively act? After effluxion over time, any social contract expires.

Routes cyclists take are not quite as fluid, more like taffy; you squish to hurry up, stretch to get in more miles. Firmament will always be fiction. Nothing lasts. Solid ground crumbles, sometimes turns into rushing mud. As a book, Bike&Chain likewise runs all over the place, torn in a thousand directions. Yet there’s an arc and center, even denouement, if no plot or purpose. Who isn’t pushed and tugged all over these days? Writers only mirror events, milieu, what’s happening. You weren’t born onto one side of issues promulgated only to exploit you. Matriarchy or patriarchy? Why not equality? Humanity moves forward united, will fall divided, wouldn’t survive without diversity. Growth and improvement can distance self from persistent deceptions and transitory illusions. To get there you must swim in facts within a school surrounded by sharks, not remain stuck on a shore of suppositions. This was B&C’s departure from fiction.

Agreed, novels have enormous influence, yet legitimize violence, whitewash root causes, and worsen insanity. Criminals and terrorists are inspired by novelists who write details that can be used to harm and maim. Fiction tends to fit into genres, tired plots with only names and places changed, and worship conflict. Instead, life itself resembles long stretches of boredom punctuated by rebellious bursts against inhuman oligarchs, not a scenario that fits neatly into a derivative genre. Devoid of any entertainment distractions, B&C tried to fathom the emotional bottom of interpersonal ethics. Is that even possible? Feel readers would rather be fishing for themselves than getting along by sharing.

Essex Terraplane

Remember running backwater routes in the 1970’s and seeing an “authorized” Hudson dealer, really a junkyard for a defunct brand. Rusting hulks sat and sulked awaiting rare enthusiasts to restore in mirth and terrorize roads with their girth. The Terraplane, an economical (as low as $425 new), fast model introduced in 1919, was lamely advertised, “In the air that's aeroplaning, but on the land, in the traffic, on the hills, hot diggity dog, that’s Terraplaning.” Imagine bicyclists resented sharing byways and terrain with these flightless turkeys, yet aviatrix Amelia Earhart hawked them, bluesman Robert Johnson droned on about them, and robber Dillinger drove one. Private transportation spread and still permits crime sprees. During the 1930’s Depression, Essex merged with and outsold the more profitable Hudson, so they abruptly discontinued production. No wonder Hudson subsequently had to sell out to American Motors, neither of which survived.

When I feel so lonesome, you hear me when I moan / Who been drivin' my Terraplane for you since I been gone… Mr. highway man, please don't block the road, 'Cause she's reachin' a cold one hundred and I'm booked and I got to go.—Robert Johnson

A website commenter said you shouldn’t discriminate cyclists from motorists, suggest a them-us dichotomy, since most both drive and pedal intermittently. Makes you consider how autos became popular a century ago. Origins fascinate, although no one thing will ever totally instigate, rather the sum of conditions. It was a no-brainer that a bicycle’s motility and a biplane’s power would merge into motorized cycles, then multi-wheeled versions for the balance challenged. Oil became available as a cheap energy source, instant compared to coal or electricity. Yet it took a celebrity to convince masses to give up cycling. If not for hard hills and heavy loads, motors may never have caught on. Chores and contours of course occur; they cannot be contravened without conflict. Stalwart riders know climbing builds and descending thrills, but who can blame workers trying to earn livings for choosing perceived convenience? One can’t just grovel in fear and hide at home.

There are hundreds of videos on Youtube showing mtb’ers going where no car could ever go, often downhill catching big air. Others present relevant songs.

By London indie rock band Bombay Bicycle Club, The Hill wants to rewind the clock and seal Pandora’s Box...
And, alright, let's go outside, / And rise, rise, rise to the meaning of life. And we're trying but we're all falling out. I want to go back to old times.

Comedian Benny Hill slyly reports on cycle sports...

By Avenger’s composer and Madison native Joel McNeely, Bicycle Ride scores final credits of TV series Dark Angel starring Jessica Alba as a bike messenger. Many miles later, she looks fabulous in that Fantastic Four skin suit. Surprised she hasn’t yet cameoed on The Big Bang Theory having rubbed elbows with Marvel obsessed cast at MTV Movie and People’s Choice Award Shows, though her name was mentioned.

By Noah Drew, This Hill Again describes a notorious night commute after happy hour.

Common Refrain

Browsing and grazing, almost too easily uncovered hitherto unmentioned bits of cycling culture. The Chemical Brothers, Velodrome [edm], single, Universal Music Group, 2012 - This accompanied an animated video played before each velodrome trial at the 2012 Olympics.

Thanks to The Wizard of Oh for collecting the following European bicycling songs among scores more already mentioned in B&C’s appendix or subsequent blogs:
Alex Roeka, De Muur Van Geraardsbergen [Dutch] Wolfshonger, Raaf Rec., 2002. This wall of misery is a cobblestone climb which culminates the Tour of Flanders.

British Sea Power, Lucky Bicycle, Valhalla V.I.P. EP, Rough Trade, 2011.

Immer diese Radfahrer, Lied - Mit dem Rad, Kamerad [German].

Kees Ruiter, Moin Fiets [Dutch folk], Live telecast; video shows a cyclist riding along dikes in the Westfries area of Northwestern Holland.

Les Thugs, Biking [French punk], As Happy As Possible EP, Sub Pop Rec., 2008.

Miranda Eve, The Bicycle Song, single, circa 2012.

Nora Jane Struthers, Bike Ride, Carnival, Blue Pig Music, 2013; video has songstress riding a retro bike throughout.

Robert Long, Vader op een fiets (Dad on a bike) [Dutch], Achter de horizon, EMI, 1986.

Found independently was this trio of older songs:
Antoine, La Troisième Roue De Ton Velo (French), single, 1970.

Jean Narcy, Bravo Eddy [Belgian], Ah! Quelle Histoire, Decca, 1970; about supreme cycling hero Eddy Merckx.

Manuel “Canario” Jimenez, En Bicicleta [Puerto Rican Jibaro] circa 1960 on retrospective album Y Su Cuarteto, Codigo, 2009.

A band in the burgeoning cycling center of London, Me for Queen has an innovative idea for an all-cycling, crowd-funded album called Iron Horse. Now you too can claim blame for adding to this song stampede. Says group's singer Mary Erskine quoted in a Guardian article, "This whole album has come from the time on my bike. You're kind of operating on two different levels: you're going through the motions, you're hyper-alert ... and, at the same time, the rest of your brain is off just free thinking. That's where all my good ideas come from; it's pretty much 99% on the bike." She expresses frustration with motorists and sensations of danger, realizes album won't change the world, but shares her perspective as a cyclist. Same as Bike&Chain. One finished cut, White Bike, is a folk ballad about ghost bikes; proceeds go to a charity that supports victims’ families.

Betray Fain

This blog expands upon topics in book, to which is appended hundreds of blog entries no longer hosted on-line. If you don’t believe in bicycling culture after 1500 pages, you’re either hostile or misinformed. Willing to grant that automotive culture exists, modeled directly on preexisting bicycling. Even lament collision fatality of Paul Walker who starred in those car adoring, death defying, mayhem manifesting Fast&Furious flicks. Ironically tragic. Modernity kills to assert itself. What of the hundreds of souls on Malaysian 777 gone missing? Challenger and Columbia shuttle disasters? What is society doing to analyze risks and prepare for inevitable failures? They would fain sacrifice you, who they value least, than proceed proactively.

On Amazon you’ll find hundreds of bicycling books… now. A small fraction were around in the ‘90’s when Bike&Chain was written. Internet has been inundated with anti/pro commentary. Yet B&C remains relatively unknown despite a decade of circulation. Does pro-bike literature enhance bike sales? Record spikes occurred every 5 years since 1985, then dipped slightly. This tracks an average bike’s duty cycle. Seems to indicate a stable ridership replacing worn out units at predictable intervals. World production of bikes hasn’t equalled cars since 1965, rather has grown to more than triple in 1985 and at least double thereafter. Estimates suggests there are a billon of each present worldwide.

Still dissatisfied, bike retailers ask what can be done to boost sales, but won’t find simple answers because culture, habits, infrastructure, government, limitations, and vested interests conspire against. Blogs and books may not convince, but economy and example do gets others off their duffs. Naysayers spread pedaling paralysis. Gollum of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, Mordred of Authurian legends, peddler Padan Fain of Jordan’s graphic novel Wheel of Time, and those so seduced by fear and greed betray friends and themselves. How can cyclists feel so lonesome surrounded by a billion others?

Strangers don't want to help or know you. When you try to hook up by saying email addresses or twitter handles, results can be lame. You have to repeat 3 times using military call letters (alpha, bravo, charlie...), but how is that different from phone numbers? Later they can't read hurried scribble, lose your business card, or recall you only as easily forgettable. Every attempt to ease access to you spurs a further disconnect. Barriers were erected both to consolidate wealth and keep out rabble, stalkers and thieves. But hope springs eternal that enough cyclists will crank outdoors to make motorists realize they have to respect others, speed less, and take care.

Living at an intersection on a street that doesn’t cut through with SLOW CHILDREN and STOP signs, watch dozens of cars and trucks race through every day. Hasn’t changed in 3 decades. Cops could fill their monthly ticket quotas right here in a few hours. Where can kids learn to ride? Not going to encourage them without controlling scofflaws. Despite federal and state initiatives made law 15 years ago, officials lack the will to prevent harm. This rant will rage until carnage retreats, velorution retakes streets, or when Labann retires, whichever comes first. Neither a negative nor positive note appears to affect anything.

Biopics Appertain

You don't unlock culture completely through a bicycle, which only existed after da Vinci’s concept, de Sivrac’s celerifere, Drais’ dandy, and Michaux’s boneshaker. Bicycles didn’t mobilize legions of Imperium Romanum. Never had Chinese emperors mandated or Greek philosophers contemplated, but modern men and particularly women have surely made up for lost millennia. It's still the conversation and transportation choice for dowagers, eggheads, heiresses, kids, and whoever isn't blessed with cash to blow on a motorized jumbo that dominates byways.

Saw Aronofsky’s period film Agora in which Rachel Weisz plays early philosopher Hypathia, who made her mark as astronomer and educator before being pathetically stoned to death by a Christian mob. An agora was an open place in an ancient city where people convened to exchange ideas, whereas separate markets were for trading goods, together what then constituted public space whence civilization eventually thrived. Private interests now control colleges, government offices, shopping malls, and supermarkets. Today, only parks, roads and virtual reality remain for residents and visitors to share. Yet bicyclists mostly cringe along edges, marginalized beside motoring carnage. Who knew it was a war with tens of thousands maimed and murdered every year, more than all soldiers in wars since WWI? Tenuous connections nevertheless persist. Bludgeoned-by-religious-bigots became instead crushed-by-automotive-morons.

Weisz walking while filming Bourne Legacy on location in bicycle infested Philippines.

On a spin of only 6 miles, got buzzed, pinched into gutter twice, and told to “ride on the sidewalk”. Wondered whether the old lady who opened a window to yell felt automotive frustration, out of sorts with lingering winter, or really concerned for my welfare. After all, people constantly try to warn others to avoid danger. In this case, cycling on sidewalk is actually less safe than obeying traffic codes that apply to both bikes and cars. Maybe her maternal instincts overcame measured reason, or she just couldn’t apportion a lane twice as wide as her subcompact. Felt bad for saluting her rudely. You’d have to be an April fool to not notice flower tips breaking through and people suddenly pedaling around despite phobia of the open. Who was she to tell a stranger how to behave?

Labann has been giving unwanted advice for decades. Just who does he think he is? Really, B&C meant from the start to remain neutral, strike a balance between cordial encouragement and social criticism. Conflict surrounds any center stance, pulls you in opposite directions, suggests you choose sides. To be a cyclist you must learn that leaning leads to toppling. You can describe survivors as those who are conservative on safety standards while liberal on harmless choices, intense in family care yet modest in personal appetites, quick to exploit sensible opportunities but slow to try what’s new. Avant-garde, explorers, and original thinkers absorb abuse, become burnt offerings to gods obtuse, yet refuse to pay the deuce’s dues. Instead of cursing or stoning, you ought to thank them for their sacrifice.

Junk Attain

Reading web news, began to notice a peculiar perspective that defends its position while recognizing bike culture. One Minnesota blogger tries to reconcile bicycling advocacy with loving petrol stinkpots. Bemused by police in suburban Townsend, Massachusetts (so small it's only intersected by state numbered roads 13 and 119), who annually give $100 gift certificates and helmets to random neighborhood ragazzi they see cycling safely. Thereby deputies hope to control traffic where no interstate exits exist to render impractical. SFGate sports columnist Ann Killion links avid bicycling with baseball icon Barry Bonds, who, as you may know, preceded Armstrong in doping controversy. But, so far, Barry isn't banned from diamond or pelaton. Because Labann has been writing this way for decades, seems significant when others do, too. Isn't evidence of influence, but might inspire continuance. Everything is interconnected. If you want to open a can of universe, a bicycle makes a decent can opener.

Recent posts equally criticized lax bike and car maintenance. Labann's last ride was straight to the local bike shop for new cables/guides, chain, and handlebar wrap. Also replaced a lost cyclometer with over 75,000 miles logged; popped off one night riding under lights dimmed by hand after motorist flashed his. Yeah, these L&M units are so bright they really do rival automotive lumens. Habitual response, should have ignored. Searched for days in vain. Old friend at shop offered in condolence, "Some kid might find a treasure to admire." Questioned reinvesting in same old Italian over a decade; likely spent as much in repairs, tires, and tubes by the dozens as a new purchase, yet no thief would find it as attractive. Choosing decent equipment, spent hardly any time broken down by roadside. Yeah, a lot of junk is sold despite potholes and tracks galore with which to deal. Get to know a good bike shop; prepare to spend seriously. Beat April's tune-up rush now.

Bike fitting? Should you rely on lucky accidents or work it out the hard way? Have yet to see a computerized spinning device that can measure your performance then compare to actual bikes to find one that perfectly fits you. How things work now, you buy an ill fitting beast, change adjustments constantly and/or contort body to it. This is practical in some senses: Bike breaks in, and you get fitter, learn to handle pain, lose weight, sense what works for you, strengthen legs to hover rather than rest on saddle, and tolerate imperfection you can't escape. Still have an old village bike for those short winter spins to save roadie for better days. Swapping hardware resembles rotating shoes so they dry out between uses.

Only managed a handful of rides all Winter. Reasonably cold here in March, so can't rightly expect to ride longer than a few blocks. Would have commuted at least part way twice a week by bike if not discouraged by record cold and snow. With all its negatives Winter riding offers a chance to experience same routes in totally new ways. Since foliage is gone, you see birds in understory searching out that last red berry, skeletons of buildings left to collapse, and vistas across hills and meadows ordinarily obscured. Furthermore, you maintain what you always intended, not to hide inside, but participate, ride, and stay alive. Some say sitting is the new smoking, by which they suggest society must pay billions for those who can't keep on keeping on.

Byline Urbane

Shocked to read CNN's bold headline, "City Cycling: Road to Fitness, or Accident Waiting to Happen?" Probably an editor's addition, it did attract attention. Read long article, which dispels dangers and suggests enhancements. Many cities have already embraced transportation modes that don't involve toxic fumes. Cycling not only remains twenty times safer than motoring, it represents practically zero risk to others. Author wasn't bashing bicycling after all, but public and readers don't care. Cars will always be too convenient a luxury to relinquish, particularly poorly maintained vehicles with lax licensing, loose steering, scratched glass, thin brakes, and whatever else puts cyclists and pedestrians most at risk.

Cycle commuting only works where business opportunities can be had within short distances, cities. In today's chaotic socioeconomic climate, workers have to commute increasingly far, while finding nearby housing can be a terrible hardship if you aren't settling for more than 6 months. Consequently, you have huge highway jams caused by collision cleanups. Got behind one yesterday that abruptly ended with only a crumpled W-beam guardrail in evidence. Since sunset and sunup, when most commute, represent worst times for solar glare and traffic snarl, you'd think that big employers would stagger arrival times.

Nicholas Bakalar's New York Times analysis confirms that top cyclists are not only healthier but look better than you. Another Times article touts nice places to ride in one of the busiest cities in the World. Thanks to advocates as Transportation Alternatives, former Republican mayor Bloomberg did a 180° turnaround to support the half million who were already cycling among the boroughs every day without floods or snow.

You'd think given a chance more would choose cycling in red states with warmer weather. Conservative rag The Atlantic puzzles over why riding is more dangerous in Southern states than elsewhere in nation, or, in other words, where conservative legislators have defied federal regulations and left roads unsafe on purpose, so Big Oil buddies can profit and constituents die as collateral damage. Appears that's where anti-bike strategies succeeded. Comments following feature the usual invectives against cycling. Excuse that motorists are stupid can no longer be used to rationalize why cyclists must suffer. With the slightest official will licenses may be revoked or withheld.

None of this is news. Labann has written about it for 2 decades. Roman's blog of a year ago, Episode 76: The Modern Moloch, cited a 1924 Times article screaming for action against motorists wantonly killing children. After 90 years that added padded dashboards, passive restraints, and seat belts, not much has improved except for urbane chatter meant to keep issues invisible.

Brrr, Ukraine

Running before another predicted storm, found roads relatively empty. After months of driving truck through potholes, slick and snow, enjoyed how much easier it was to bike around asphalt hazards, frost heaves, gutter sand, and plow gouges. Lost rear traction for a moment crossing solid ice, but otherwise went everywhere unimpeded except for pathetic conditioning after a 12 week saddle hiatus.

So out of shape can't imagine ever leading another group ride. Never much liked them anyway. Each cyclist goes at a different pace, so where's the group? Solitary suits Labann: No meet up arrangements, repairs on poorly maintained bikes, or sense of disappointment. Yet a lonesome excursion draws unwanted attention from scary gangs in vans, like Ukraine unrest invites Russian incursion. Frigid rides are necessarily short, deter assault, and leave time to uncover undiscovered culture.

Vincent Goodwin couldn't resist treating some of Doyle’s century old Sherlock Holmes stories as graphic novels including “The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist”. Crude cartoons add little. Reading 1903 original, you might detect fewer cycling risks for emancipated women than dangers of marrying badly.

Winter on a familiar route reveals new details previously overlooked. Likewise, soon home, find a dozen songs never before mentioned:

Acoustic Syndicate, Bicycle Song [farm rock], Rooftop Garden, Little King, 2013

The Big Sweet, Bicycle Nights, Bicycle Nights, [self], 2013

Island Cassettes, Italian Bicycles, Island Cassettes, [self], 2013

Johnny Random, Bespoken [concrete], [self], 2013

San Marcos Cycling, Share the Road (and 11 others) [Texas pop], Something About Cycling, Kerry Lash, 2013

Erica Viegas, Bicycle, Unravel, [self] 2013

Immanuel Witschi, Bicycle [classical piano], Stepping Ahead, [self], 2012

Halve Neuro & de Zologie - Pakt de Velo [Dutch hip-hop], 2011

Moe'z Art, The Black Bicycle [hip-hop], Beast, [self], 2011

Noly Bes, Mon Velo [Belgian hip-hop], circa 2011

Shera Kelly, The Bicycle Commuters Anthem, The Bicycle Commuters Anthem - EP, [self], 2011

Tania Gill, Bicycle [Toronto jazz], Bolger Station, Barnyard Records, 2010

Bagging Tisane

"Never create anything. It will be misinterpreted. It will chain you and follow you for the rest of your life.” ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

A basic flaw exists in writing exposes. Once you’ve assessed culpability and identified root causes, you’ve organized a scheme for anyone devious enough to apply it, thus leaving those you hoped to protect even more vulnerable. It’s akin to identifying defense cracks through which terrorists can attack. Almost better not to analyze, though ignorance will never be bliss, since natural curiosity and relaxed vigilance then lead to catastrophe. Failures can't always be avoided. Psychologists define insanity as repeating the same mistakes. Electorates desperately seek candidates who'll end their exploitation, but doesn't handing over power usually result in corruption and subjugation?

Bits of stories give pause for thought. A report said both conservatives and liberals average six figure incomes. Moderates seldom do. Makes sense: If you pick a side, you profit. If you reject partisanship and stay apolitical, you not only don’t get ahead but zealots stick you with the bill. Since middle class moderates are the majority norm, you’d think they’d organize against polarized despoilers. Instead of developing consensus, social media mostly goads people to act stupidly. Forums attract narcissists and sociopaths who only pose as leaders. Issues never get resolved because nobody really wants that. When all is said and done, more will be said than done, which dilutes potency of any message. More talk just isolates interested parties in confusion loops and distraction silos.

Along come tea baggers, who liken themselves to dead revolutionaries who dressed as savages and dumped tea into Boston harbor. Making noise about restoring rights, they represent a know-nothing message of simplicity. They substitute political tisane for real caffeinated agony. Like bad scientists, they are too willing to leap from gathered data to universal theorems. You can know facts that suddenly become meaningless, like details of buildings subsequently destroyed in an earthquake, or other things that once were which may not be worth revisiting. What they really don't want is to contribute to what government does with revenues, understandably, though they probably have no idea the extent to which American hegemony makes their lives so comfortable they can find time to act out fantasies. A dead end, all conservatism becomes a death spiral, leads to austerity, fewer risks, less investment, no sharing, reduced trade, and so forth. Conservatively progressive might be okay, not letting effective procedures lapse while continuously improving. That’s what world needs; could start with appliances and cars that weren't designed for obsolescence. Tried cycling instead, yet UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon's latest 10-year initiative, Improving Global Road Safety, in its automotive focus doesn't mention bicycles at all. You can’t waste resources without causing suffering. Paul and Peter ought to be done borrowing and lending.

Everyone has been hit below the belt by Bible or Qur'an (directly or indirectly), many sucker punched by Science or Scientology or Theosophy, and some smothered by sublime imagery of poets who, obviously, founded all religions. Billions know Buddhism, Hinduism, Shinto, and whatnot. Others are on a totally different wavelength of secret texts passed among insiders, who don't share with those who never read. You can't expect people with totally different customs to agree. Whole new ways of expressing oneself and perceiving reality were explored throughout the 20th Century from Kafka to Wittgenstein. But common consumers were mostly influenced by false advertising and political lies, so much so we get lame, vague discussions designed to classify and pin down threats to sanctified, stagnant conventions that won't work anymore. The seemingly endless vein of productivity upon which the powerful feed will run out eventually. Ideas "frightening odd" if "not necessarily hostile" don't bear explaining because they can't be handled by brains dependent upon their view in rearview mirror.

Snowbank Lain

Never too late to start bicycling; easy on old bodies and offers big benefits, says BBC. After 10,000 hours of pedaling around, guarantee you'll breathe better and lose stiffness after your very first ride. Frigid weather doesn't keep everyone inside, either, although snow removal steals your chances and wears you down. This winter more untapped cycling stimulus has lain in towering banks than crystalized rain. You can always tell when Labann hasn’t been riding; insights and poetry fall short of those an oxygen soaked brain would be generating.

The 19th Century physician Seneca Egbert recommended “cycling as a remedy for dyspepsia, torpid liver, incipient consumption, nervous exhaustion, rheumatism, and melancholia.” Does anyone still suffer from such fanciful maladies? Yes! Just their names have changed, respectively: indigestion, parenchyma, tuberculosis, adjustment disorder, joint pain, and the blues, for which they offer newfangled medicines that might kill you instead. Sometimes popular antidepressants increase suicidal tendencies. Better to prevent with a bicycling mood boost.

Speaking of aging, bicycle advocacy itself has supposedly grown up, according to Architecture Daily, now just another item in transportation planning in some cities. Opposition to cycling as a social panacea was inevitable. Lloyd Alters article in Treehugger exemplifies the platform for progress typically presented but usually ignored, that is, when it doesn't raise conservative hackles. Asking for 5 times more government spending? When current is zero, multiples send you nowhere. Cheap paint on existing pavement would address 75% of issues. Although cyclists ride in travel lanes, a reasonably wide shoulder can often be enough to provide a safe alternative when traffic thickens.

Alters may not be aware that most of these measures have already been included in USA's Code of Federal Regulations, which affect every city, state and town alike. Why they don't appear as existing infrastructure and haven't been enforced are easily explained: They were directed at public officials who'd rather regulate cyclists out of existence than restrict motorists in the least. Plus, no penalty for legislators, who never serve time and pass along federal fines to taxpayers. All they have to do is plead budget constraints, ignorance or inconvenience, and constituents shrug their collective shoulders. Everyone sees cyclists as second class citizens, even cyclists who've been browbeaten by abuse and neglect.

Egalitarian internet makes it hard to complain and contest. Labann won't contribute to moderated forums that don't directly allow everyone to join conversation in a timely fashion. Fact is, internet providers impose this upon site builders; they somehow assume you don't want a string of commercial spots, political plants, troll taunts, and useless drabble. But who monitors own website continuously? Labann would rather allow instant comments, but that's not how Google.blogspot works. Why blog, comment or troll anyway? Correspondents seek that small adrenaline rush of someone battling or validating their viewpoint. Unless you are very bizarre, you'll receive dislikes and likes, but more misquotes and misunderstoods. You only think you're addressing fellow intellectuals and literate readers; in reality, it's those who aren't smart enough to be doing something meaningful or profitable.

Most people don't know what to do or where to look. They make no ripple. Some wait for calm to skip a stone. The rarest of rare wade in and leave a huge wake in their chosen artform, discipline, or profession that's felt for days, decades, even millennia. The tsunamis among them were proclaimed emperors, pharaohs, prophets, Sons of God on Earth. Acolytes build cathedrals and pyramids to commemorate their influence and create artificial mountains frozen in time where lain relics can remain.

Mezzanine Eyestrain

Critics describe certain movies as "coming of age". Therein, teens assume responsibilities, which represents their first step toward becoming adults and carving out freedoms for themselves. Beneficiaries might give doers who get things done a pass on restrictions.

When she released award winning film Wadjda (2013), director Haifaa Al Mansour broke new ground. It was a first for conservative, Islamic Saudi Arabia, where no feature film had ever been shot. Its title character, a ten-year-old girl living in a suburb of capital Riyadh, rebels against a society that sees bicycles as a danger to a girl’s virtue. She so desperately wants a green bicycle so she can beat bratty neighbor boy Abdullah in a race, Wadjda decides to raise the money herself. Critically acclaimed, will it one day wind up on list of Bicycling Films Not to Be Missed?

In a sex farce directed by Jeremy Leven, Girl on a Bicycle (2013), protagonist, a Paris bus driver, finally gets courage to propose to his frigid girlfriend, a flight attendant, when he meets love interest from title, also involved in transportation alternatives. Screwball mayhem ensues.

Other cycling films for 2013 include 4 documentaries. Alex Gibney's inevitable biopic, The Armstrong Lie, started out being a fan homage to Lance's 2009 return after a 4 year hiatus, but morphed into a self absorbed monster chronicling doping abuse and falling from grace. Haven't personally seen, but reviews were favorable. National Geographic aired Cycling's Greatest Fraud (Episode 14, July 16th), repeating allegations. How much improvement does doping deliver? Maybe 2%? What are margins of victory? Who should expect heroes and victors to be fair, gentlemanly, honest or perfect? Meanwhile, world's most famous cyclist, still an amazing if arrogant athlete who increased sales of bicycles and pharmaceuticals my hundreds of millions, has been negotiating a return to this grueling sport after being banished for life. Arrogant is he/she who urges a cancer survivor to act his age. Shifted by Matt Butterworth and Eric Marciniak, Virtu Media's first full length video, spotlights daredevil stunts on mtbs. It's a lot of big air, and not in a bad way. A Winter of Cyclists by Mike Predergast reveals what awaits fools who try commuting through Colorado snow.

In urban fear film Attack the Block (2011) director Joe Cornish reverses roles on a gang of teens who ride bmx bikes and terrorize neighbors into heroes who protect their block from alien invaders. Talk about growing up in a hurry.

Joshua Jackson plays a cultural tourist in Spain accompanying a bickering couple in Kevin Nolan's Americano (2005), which was mentioned in B&C but only recently found on DVD. After running with bulls in Pamplona, he hooks up with a beautiful actress, and the foursome ride borrowed bikes to her villa over a double span of bridge reflected in river and so resembles a bicycle. This extended scene, like the film, is propelled on a theme of freedom in life choices for those on the cusp of adulthood.

Streaky Pane

Do you make too little of catastrophes or take life too seriously? Depends on specifics. All should carefully consider and safely pursue motility, but many exaggerate its threats. P.J. O’Rourke ridiculed such ideas long ago. Who understands satire anymore? Reducing to the absurd ceases to be amusing when lives are at stake. Built a Cycling FMEA which showed high to middle severity for Failure Modes but low statistical occurrence of Effects, so no risk Analyzed could be considered unacceptable; sure, might further mitigate some, but most would hardly be worth the effort. Blather on blogs/radio/television, no matter how strident, begs being laughed off for the self serving bunk it is. Takes all kinds: Enthusiasts to propel progress, naysayers to redouble planning, and oppressors to police compliance. Tickets jealously motivated punish whoever by riding evades raising revenue. So rare, you can't cite an instance where a cyclist caused a traffic injury, other than to self; motorists nationwide murder well over 30,000 innocents every year. Decide what's right for you, born bawling, dragging a metal shell, and dying too soon.

Self evaluation proves crucial during decision making. How have you improved yourself? Have rules followed or values upheld led to your goals? How did you measure success? Still potent or relevant? Time to cut losses? Willing to take on more or other responsibilities? Was reminded by a cyclist that when you answer "no", nothing good comes from it, but "yes" affirms life and provides only chance to learn or profit. Then contrasted that with what Franz Kafka wrote...

"You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked; it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." - Zurau Aphorism 109, 1917

Gongs from a century ago echo in B&C's Chapter 15, though suggested such visions mostly occur right before you slam into a wall, when you'll be glad you're wearing a helmet. Some speculate safety devices encourage risk taking. Insuring motorists certainly has. Leaving a cozy home is risk enough, especially into subzero snow. Nobody wants to encounter naked truths. You not only need not agree with absolutes and ultimatums, you ought to exercise choices lest they disappear. How else can you nurture advancement, innovation, uniqueness? Some claim Kafka would have wished he never published anything had he known how critics would distort it. Audiences invariably process input in unanticipated ways. Conceiving and inventing keep humans at the top of food chain when once they were sparse snacks for surly predators. From millennia of herd hunting, they instinctively know that working together means survival, which explains their fascination with famous faces and trivial facts. Yet they morbidly distrust strangers after relentless negative conditioning.


Bicyclist with blinkies and headlight bouncing stripes barely visible in a blizzard

“No matter how one may think himself accomplished, when he sets out to learn a new language, science, or the bicycle he has entered a new realm as truly as if he were a child newly born into the world.” Frances Willard of herself in her 53rd year, 1892

Bright baubles fascinate infants for a few moments. Bloggers observe what occurs through a streaky pane and squint at shards of totality. Cyclists look inward; what else can you do while pedaling? Insights arrive inconsistently and never cohere. Once posted, outward again appeals. Bike polo, freakbikes, and tattooed messengers do contribute to cycling culture, but you can't equate art and artifacts. A tall bike slapped together requires less dedication than a book or film. Art is where dialogue starts, questions are posed, and resolutions lead to consensus that serve mutual needs. Only words let you connect meaningfully beyond hunger and lust at a distance.

Expended serious effort over decades in pursuit of quality but reaped minimal rewards. This may never land upon BlogMetrics.org's top 50 bicycle websites. Wrote for honest pay, mad obsession, publisher whims, and unrealized wins. When they look beyond its drier patches, intelligent readers see B&C as a departure. Devoid of entertainment distractions and metaphoric crutches, B&C deconstructs language into the virus that it is, measures the irrational well of interpersonal dynamics, but refuses to rebut any reasonable position over its opposition. Unfortunately, the ubiquitous corruption of do-nothing partisans that treats doers as obsequious fools sours any hope of cooperation. Eventually you either specialize or succumb to incompetence. The longer you live, the more you regret letting yourself be used and vow to spend what years remain on only what’s important. Nothing seems reason enough anymore. Need to embrace new dreams yet imagined and find clarity.

Mark of Cain

In 2013 box office blockbuster World War Z, virus expert Brad Pitt, after visiting ground zero of contagion to seek some cure, reconsiders next place to touch down to evade zombies, who are attracted by slightest of noises, as are sharks from afar to frolicking seals. He and team pick bicycles to quietly sneak back onto plane. Felt similar terror on December roads among frenzied holiday shoppers. WWZ's undead move as fast as highway traffic, unlike television's slow walking dead. Original Voodoo versions, upon which they based these necrophobic nightmares, were nearly paralyzed by poisons.

Screen treatments gained popularity with John Caradine's Revenge of the Zombies (1943), when they embodied an actual diaspora of needy WWII refugees roaming menacingly across 5 continents. In 1968 George Romero revived fetish with The Night of the Living Dead. IMDB lists 263 films and show episodes devoted to this creepy premise where strange biological entities are wantonly exterminated as if insects in nuclear fear films. Hate? Really? Genre has come to symbolize any mindless horde perpetrating evil, whereas worn out westerns, which number in the thousands, are mostly about equals with guns killing each other. God fearing folk were once expected to repress their savagery, but ever more often meek minion unwittingly engage in heinous acts and rights debacles for the sake of nationalism, racism or xenophobia. You're equally guilty by commission or omission; ignoring duty to society is no option facing next atrocity. You don't satisfy requirement by begrudgingly remitting taxes and pretentiously expecting government to take care of it. They don't do enough to help developing countries feed hungry bellies.


Icugutu: Rwanda's handmade wooden bicycles
dangerously devoid of brakes.

Tim Lewis' balanced book Land of Second Chances (Velopress, 2013) examines the horror you've come to expect from the heart of darkness and the improbable rise of Rwanda's Olympic cyclists. Rolls in behind T. C. Johnstone's documentary on same topic Rising from Ashes narrated by Forest Whitaker. Lewis starts with a riveting account of “the rubber terror” over Dunlop’s raw materials and slave plantations in neighboring Congo. Pneumatic tires did make bicycling practical but at a terrible unseen cost. These days, tantalum mining for computers and cell phones commandeers unpaid labor and rationalizes deals in mass death. Often painful to read, book's facts implicate creed and greed, as usual.

Central Africa should be a place of potential, particularly Rwanda where millions share same economic status. Nine out of ten are subsistence farmers who push once banned icugutu ladened with produce. Hope Cycles now increasingly bring coffee to market on time and represent hope, as incongruent an idea as honesty if you live with uncertainty and make no plans. Yet foreigners fear grim reminders of the sudden massacre of nearly a million souls maliciously meted out with machetes by senseless mobs. Survivors bear fearsome scars, mental and physical, neither forgetting nor permitting themselves to be defined by genocide. Unification has become a national obsession. Cyclists there braved far more than their hilly terrain, which is bound to strengthen. Every racer knows the winner will be whoever climbs fastest.

One day with nurture loss-averse Rwandans may ride their amagare (modern bikes) past pelaton to European victories. One never knows. Took until 1986 for an American to win Tour de France. Glory in sports is fleeting at best and should never be sole opportunity among the poor. Only fair trade in agribusiness, manufacturing and mining raise a nation's standard of living. Rwanda may rate among the poorest countries in World, but they hold Umuganda on the last Saturday of every month when everyone participates in community projects and professionals provide services for free. Brush gets cleared but holiday gifts aren't swapped; rather, whoever has anything is asked to share.

Continually dealing with ignorance and impatience can be depressing. Everyday androids attack entrances and exits of expressways, human mimicking golem, modern zombies leaving behind common sense, compassion, and controlled pulse for speed's trivial thrill. Unlike motoring, cycling appeases your intense, Kerouac-esque appetite to experience everything on the road. Sure, if you go, got to open your gourd and orbs. Goodwill goads you to know you don't live in a vacuum, rather a supportive network that enables feeling whatever way you want, including apathetic, depressed, oblivious or vindictive. Malcontents can be blue and still stomach complaints. Comforts alienate. Being but obliquely aware of issues, you have only a dim impression of what abominations ignorance and want are capable. You blink at what's happening right now in Africa.

Cyclists bond in a brotherhood of pain. Conversation lifts one's spirits, even when it's only grousing or grumbling. People commiserate, what they do best, (literally) wretched together. But Cain asked, and those who bear his brand repeat, "Am I my brother's keeper?" A caring, cooperative world that doesn't tolerate iniquity has an uphill climb with church and state setting contradictory examples. Wholesale slaughter should never amuse, neither alien insects or nearby zombies. One rides amidst memories of the dead, but tries to merit redemption through charity, kindness, and patience.

"You must remember always to give... foolishly even... to all who come into your life. Then nothing and no one shall have power to cheat you... if you give to a thief, he cannot steal from you, and he himself is then no longer a thief.... Nothing good ever ends. If it did, there would be... no life at all, anywhere." - William Saroyan, The Human Comedy

Chimeric Twain

"People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing... Give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin... Sitting here Watching the Wheels go round... just had to let it go."—John Lennon, final, posthumously published, song on Double Fantasy album

Why switch back to bicycle from car? Nobody wants to be told how they must go. Motor on days of rain or snow. Why not? Market runs are easier by truck when one can find a parking spot. Bicycling is a healthy choice and mood boost whenever it suits you, or an imposed drudgery for suckers clearing way for tetchy fuel hogs then narrowly surviving falls into trenches. Unfair to call bicycling a gateway drug to driving, but it is all about, "How can we go faster?" without any doubt over consequences.

Wish you owned winged Pegasus: Lives forever, never eats, prances blithely over car crawl and snarl.


Though a pain to care for, horses are at least biological, logical, and sustainable and don't need roads, only hay. Neither does a mountain bike, but it won't run off leaving you surrounded by snakes and wolves.

The cheapest (riskiest) form of real transportation might be a 250 cc scooter, which can provide daily 137 mile highway roundtrips at 50+ mph/mpg, 50,000 miles annually, for only 1,000 gallons, maintenance, and oil. A scooter can be used in all weather and costs no more than a decent bicycle, whereas you might have 2 or 3 bikes for changeable conditions but only ride them 10% as far. Some cyclists only use roadies, but half also own either single speeds or winter beaters. During '60's routinely put 2 full bags of groceries, enough for a couple's weekly consumption, into milk rack on back of a waspish Vespa. By bicycle you could carry as much, but not as conveniently in one trip. Frame mounted panniers and racks will set you back hundreds, then you'll need for each bike. Versus fuel, dozens of cassette/chain combos and sets of tires won't match a scooter's range. A luxurious Hermes hipster at $11k costs as much as a low end new car; has some of the features of a Novara Gotham, which sells for 90% less.

None of this takes into account the trillions spent to date on road construction and upkeep. Depreciation is constant. Neil Young twanged, "Rust Never Sleeps." But you can postpone ruin by biking, making pavement and vehicles last longer, running car as least once a week; otherwise, gaskets fail, metal degrades, and seals leak. Bikes similarly suffer unattended: Cables kink, chains seize, tires crack, tubes ooze, though you can remedy yourself with simple tools, no computer diagnostics required. Boats, busses and trains only get you part way to destinations. All have a place in any transportation solution even though underfunded and unevenly valued.

If you hear of a bicyclist killed it’s when run down by a motorist acting negligently. Insurance has become an enabler of bad behaviors. Coverage and lax enforcement encourage motorists to drive obliviously. In a system out of control, assassinations of innocents are inevitable. Policies don’t protect drivers against criminal charges, only property damages. Yet courts ignore survivor civil suits after traffic tribunals give a $75 wrist slap (maximum penalty for taking a life in some states). Every year the burnt offering for finite automotive profits remains tens of thousands of self replicating lives. In an unexamined dynamic, cycling hastens tragedy, and the dual fantasy is a) Doing right by bike will be rewarded, and b) Labor saving technologies won't kill you. Hazards abound in what you choose to ignore.

Why must everyone stay on the move? Against your will, you're forced from home to earn and spend. Helena Norberg-Hodge discussed devastating effect of drone economies. Investment in global rather than local industry leads directly to an erosion of ethics and resurgence of slavery where still allowed. Why isn't hers an indictment of banking practices under Reaganomic deregulation? Farm coops work because produce is perishable. But what of durable goods that easily endure sea voyages and warehouse storage? Manufacturing at point of sale would certainly save on shipping, but billionaires and exporters suppress such thinking. Dr. Stacy Wood points to a hedonic treadmill: One purchase triggers the next in a mindless acquisition chain. Pleasure seeking humans must roam to reproduce with someone other than cousins and siblings. Perhaps mobility over generations has finally smartened them. A third as many 16-year-olds are now applying for drivers' licenses, satisfied with bikes instead. Teens more often communicate and play video games on-line anyway. Anything else desired may arrive mail order, including brides but not blue chimeras except My Little Pony Friendship is Magic.

Cred Regain

Official statisticians used to say more bikes were sold in 1971 America than ever, 17.3 million, at the height of nation's bike boom. Well, a new record was quietly set in 2000 with 20.9 million. Thought they'd never top with borrowing, rebuilding and renting so popular, yet noticed 15 to 20 million units sold every year since, a stable $6 billion industry. Curious to see tabulated results for 2013. Don't think Big Auto & Oil want these facts broadcast.

They claim bicycles now outsell cars in every European industrialized country, likely true in developing countries, too, where stats aren't as easy to come by. Shouldn't surprise anyone that during a global recession folks will choose a cheaper alternative. But don't kid yourself that ridden miles significantly supplant driven. Motorists report increasingly longer waits at roadnet pinch points, often several red light changes. In fact, private car production worldwide since 1999 has doubled to 60.3 million/year. Last year 82.1 million motor vehicles of all types were assembled; a quarter of them were sold in China. Oil profits have never been greater. Percentage of Americans commuting by bike remains negligible. Only 47 million bikes were built, although their production is expected to exceed cars by 2019.

In this burgeoning bikescape, prestigious blogs and newswires repeatedly ask how safe cycling is. Why spread fear? Sure, ability and savvy peak between years 15 and 60 bracketed by adolescent inexperience and aged infirmity when bicycling becomes less practical. Yet you risk more doing nothing and going nowhere. Huggers must remain mobile to gather, hunt and shop. Restless, you could simply jog or walk, but it takes too long.

Traffic will always be a dangerous dance, though cyclists hug edges, and most roads are empty 20 hours of every day. Still, incompetents may step on toes or stumble; cycling mishaps in America, guesstimated below 200,000 annually, are underreported because they are seldom as baleful or tragic as nation's 4,000,000 motoring collisions. It's why they insure and license operators and pilots and not cyclists, still unnecessary despite regained credibility. Hawaii is the only state with bike registration; Georgia just killed bill in committee endorsed by Republicans but opposed by majority.

One flustered scofflaw snapped back that bike lanes cause accidents based on same argument as guns cause murders: Illogical. As much as they'd like to accuse inanimate objects and loathe assuming responsibility, abusing users are 100% to blame. Laws mandate bike-ped infrastructure because it relieves snarl and smoothes interaction. Motorists, spoiled by freeway speeds, must nevertheless adapt to seasonal frosted windows, solar glare, and variable density on secondary streets rushed at dawn and dusk. Cyclists can't always work around motorists failing to do so.

A bicycling renaissance, if not already occurring, seems on a cusp with avant garde art, film and theater devoted to it and resurgence in urban pacesetters London, New York, and Paris. Bike America, a 2013 play staged in Hell's Kitchen, NYC, tries to elevate cycling into a panacea for emotional emptiness. Europeans just see a bike as a way to get around villages that weren't designed around grids bred to milk motorists. Nilo Cruz's 1999 play A Bicycle Country, about economic sanctions that turned many Cubans into begrudging cyclists, was performed at Miami's Roxy Center last year; Cruz was the first Latino to win a Pulitzer Prize. Follows central London's 2009 staging of Pedal Pusher with plot around Armstrong and Pantani vying for Tour de France glory. Heather McDonald's 1994 play Faulkner's Bicycle imagined the famous author as a cranky cycling neighbor once his writing days were over.

Blue Vervain

Seasons shift, spins tempt less, writing wanes. Not supposed to care about landscapes traversed, but do anyway. Grand expanses of green beneath glorious dawns and orange foliage crank brain like an antique Victrola, but falling leaves bring inevitable fears and invisible tears, since ice soon appears. For days out of the saddle consider media as a consolation to the ages of man caught in the cycle of life.

Tire of bixliographies that don't list Bike&Chain and the misbegotten but popular practice of decorating lawns with Tom Waits' rusty bicycle leaned against a tree, planted with annual flowers, gladioli, and mood improving vervain, as if some kid fled parent's nest and left it behind for college. Might symbolize a slew of songs that commemorate lost passions of youth or rediscover simple joys once thought unsophisticated. Nevertheless, find many references to bicycling culture not revealed by titles alone.

Alan Bradley's new novel, Speaking from Among the Bones, has a bike upended on its cover. It's from a mystery series about a ferocious 11-year-old girl, Flavia de Luce, a sleuth who rides a Gladys bicycle, what Fanny Willard learned to ride.

Adolescents soon become bored teens who imagine intrigues in well produced video Vélo Volé (Stolen Bike). French singer Thomas Fersen pines away in his own La chapelle de la joie. Hey Ocean bemoans disappointment in Bicycle.

Kiki Lambert would beat ennui by spinning small wheels of her Brompton folding bike, as she sang in Les p'tites roues (sur l'air du Poinçonneur des Lilas). White rap trio Da Gryptions strut to attract Montreal's mademoiselles in The Bixi Anthem. Deadeye Dick is infatuated with vegan love interest New Age Girl (Mary Moon).

Matthew Good Band wonders about a new hookup in As Long as You're Mine, a new link for a song discussed in Appendix. "Love is just like riding a bicycle, and riding a bicycle is just another way to get thrown." Liaisons definitely can go terribly wrong with intolerable consequences. Both men and women come from Mars or Venus. Sheryl Crow's backlash at being dumped by Lance Armstrong somehow disclosed his doping involvement, as described in Albergotti's and O'Connell's new tell-all Wheelmen. What of Les Wampas' homage Rimini to Italian campione de ciclismo Marco "Il Pirati" Pantani, who died untimely, some say, of depression over EPO abuse accustions? Note stylish skull guitar.

Milwaukee singer/songwriter Peter Mulvey documents his 50 mile ride with Ralston Bowles on trikes to another concert engagement. He's traveled entire East Coast by bike to perform, as well as loops up to 500 miles on recumbents. Pete considers a self propelled musical tour a "Better Way to Go", but will ladies think him a "dork"? Adults can still select their own ways to trek, and Some People go by bicycle or out way too soon.

Sangria Gratuite serenades with anti-car, mariachi tune El Velo Solex. MIght as well have Pierre Péribois chime in with his happy accordion march Nous on Fait du Vélo from Vive les pompiers as dirge rather than When The Saints Go Marching In.