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.

Dyke Unchain

Following famous titles from the late 19th Century, notably A Wheel Within a Wheel: How I Learned to Ride the Bicycle (1893, 104 pp.) by WCTU’s LGBT leader Fanny Willard, one might be led to believe books on bicycling for girls are few and slim. Prejudice against suffragism persisted into the 20th, characterized by that wicked witch on a bike in The Wizard of Oz, whirled disparagingly from Halloween and Sapphic themes. Often hear it deemed evident that female interest has renewed in the 21st. Probably has to do with same old issues: Limited opportunities, stifling paternalism, transportation hardships. Would never imply women need a “what to wear” guide or whatnot. Generic books about bikes could suffice for every gender and orientation, but shrewd to pander to distaff half who buy more books and won't be denied.



UK's Guardian newspaper ran an on-line article asking for comments on cycling in children's books only to conclude there aren't many, although that's not al all true with hundreds on everything from safety concerns to youth motocross. Since juvenile titles are even slimmer, only listed books from the last decade with a Lexile measure above 800.

Cathy Bussey, The Girl's Guide to Life on Two Wheels (Ryland Peters & Small, 2013, 128 pp.)

Beverley Brenna, The White Bicycle (Red Deer Press, 2012, 198 pp.); 3rd novel in her Wild Orchid series about a child with Asperger's Syndrome won Printz Honor this year.

Katie Dailey, Heels on Wheels. A Lady's Guide to Owning and Riding a Bike (Hardie Grant Books, 2012, 96 pp.)

Sue Macy, Wheels of Change: How Women Rode the Bicycle to Freedom (With a Few Flat Tires Along the Way) (National Geographic Children's Books, 2011, 96 pp.); nominated for and won several awards.

Previously mentioned books by Claire Morissette and Elly Blue.

Margie Melvin, A Woman Without a Man Is Like a Fish Without a Bicycle, (AuthorHouse, 2009, 68 pp.)

Selene Yeager, Every Woman's Guide to Cycling: Everything You Need to Know, From Buying Your First Bike to Winning Your First Race (NAL Trade, 2008, 320 pp.); substantial volume probably still shy of pretensions.

Carolyn Keene, A Race Against Time (Simon & Schuster, 2004, 160 pp.); a Nancy Drew Detective Mystery.

Jane Kurtz, Bicycle Madness (Macmillan, 2003, 122 pp.); fictional account of youth befriending Frances Willard.