Jason’s note: This is Part 12 of Jack’s essay about his recent trip through the northeast. Here are the previous installments:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |
Part 11

Travel by bike often translates into travel with bike. That is, when you need to make an intermodal connection, your vehicle becomes a piece of luggage. So it was for me at one point this summer: I needed to get back to Rochester for a few days of paid employment, in part to finance my summer rambles, and that meant a quick zip west from Schenectady by train or bus. For this “detour,” I picked the train, mostly because I like Amtrak – which you should keep in mind when you see the criticism below. (And did I mention I’m a member of the Empire State Passenger Association, a fine public transport advocacy group that works to bring rail service up to par? Check it out at http://www.trainweb.org/espa/ — and think seriously about joining.)

Now, traveling with a bike shouldn’t be a problem – after all, the thing weighs only 25 pounds or so, and though it’s bigger than a bread basket, it’s not much bigger than some bags that are wheeled through the train station or airport every day. But the transportation system, such as it is, can’t seem to handle a bike.

I chewed on this fact several times during my summer tour. The first time was when I made an abortive stop at the Fort Edward Amtrak station, which I’ve already described. The second was at the Schenectady station, a “full service” hub where, like the proverbial glass, the vessel is only half-full.

What I chewed on was Amtrak’s schizoid attitude toward bicycles. There’s a limitation that applies to all routes: you can take a bike aboard only those trains that have a baggage car, which knocks you out of half the schedule. But on east-west routes in this region, you must box the bike, while on the north-south Adirondack line, you can check the bike unboxed – apparently a special service for the New York-Montreal traveler, who’s more likely to be a cyclist. Compare this to Canada’s VIA Rail, which allows unboxed bikes as checked baggage on every train with a baggage car – slightly better, more predictable service. Neither Amtrak nor Via provides free bike service; the former charges $5 for checking the bike, plus $10 for the box (unless you provide your own and truck it to the station).

You can circumvent the problems by traveling with a folding bike, which is legal on all trains and is not treated as checked baggage; on Amtrak, your folder slips into the oversized luggage area at one end of the passenger car. (I’ve got a Dahon folder that I used for part of my tour; more about this later, in regard to the New England leg.) This is similar to the European system – only across the pond, they allow full-sized bikes to be brought aboard passenger cars and stashed securely in a special area. No reason Amtrak couldn’t do the same, except for the fact that their leadership and political sponsors suffer from what I call hardening of the arterials, a transport syndrome that closes off the blood supply to creativity and innovation.

Well, I’ve said a lot about travel considerations and the ups-and-downs of intermodality. But what about the actual train ride to Rochester? Truth is, it was wonderfully non-eventful. I bought a bike box at the Schenectady station, then packed my beloved Miyata and checked it at the desk, and then proceeded to kill a few hours checking out, first, an new Irish pub near the station, and second, the modestly gentrified old section of town only a few blocks away. Think Corn Hill, but with more limestone than brick. I finally arrived in Rochester around 11:00 p.m. Seems like it should take a much shorter time to get from there to here; indeed, if we had modern high-speed rail service, the straight shot from Schenectady to Rochester would take an hour and a quarter, and I’d have got home by 8:00. And it would have taken me about ten minutes to deboard, unboxed bike in hand, and get to my front door.

I know: Dream on.

A Bike on the Highway (Comments: 2)

Author:
Date: 25 September, 2007
Category: Adam Durand

It was a beautiful weekend, and my significant other Kristine and I were headed out to her aunt’s house, northwest of Rochester, for a picnic on Lake Ontario. Paddleboats, pasta salad, and Tofurkey sausages awaited us, and we decided to use Kristine’s car to get there.

Kristine keeps a bike rack on her car pretty much all the time. Pretty cool, huh? When she came to pick me up, we decided to strap my commuter bike onto the rack so I’d have it later in the day to get home. It’s one of the most highly utilized and valued material items in my life, so I carefully fastened it in. The front wheel tends to flop around a bit during the drive so I loosely tied it to the rack with a nylon strap.

We started our journey on Rochester’s highways, headed through the city on 490 then taking 390 North towards the lake. The bike was shaking around a bit on the rack, and we joked about it getting away, but I wasn’t overly concerned.

I don’t remember exactly what I was talking about at the moment that it happened, but my words were interrupted by a shout from Kristine – “ADAM, YOUR BIKE JUST FELL OFF THE RACK!” She had been looking at it in the rear-view mirror and watched as it lifted off the rack and disappeared from view.

I looked back in horror. Indeed, my bike was gone. As Kristine started to pull over, I tried to spot the bike on the expanse of the highway, and could see nothing. I feared that it would cause an accident. I got ready to sprint down the highway shoulder. I felt like crying.

As Kristine’s car came to a stop, I jumped out and ran around to the back. And there was my bike, attached to the back of the car by a single nylon strap around the front wheel. The loose strap had dragged it at 55 miles per hour. The seat, right-side pedal, back basket, and front fender took the brunt of the road rash. The bike remained in perfectly rideable condition.

My severe lack in proficiency with fastening the bike to the rack with the supplied rubber fasteners was made up for by my knot tying skills and distaste for a front wheel that flaps in the wind. Kristine was visibly shaking after the incident. From now on, I’ll pull those bike rack straps extra tight.

CRITICAL MASS
Friday, September 28

We’re not blocking traffic, we are traffic!

Critical Mass ride departs:

  • From the Wilson Commons clock tower on the UR campus at 5:30pm and
  • From the Liberty Pole (downtown) at 6:00pm

NEW HISTORY TOURS
Sunday, Sept. 30, 4 p.m.
Meet at Rochester Contemporary, 137 East Ave

Please join us Sunday, September 30 at 4pm for the last in the 2007 series of guided bicycle tours exploring Rochester’s obscure and radical history:

Not-So-Smugtown After All: Political Protest and Direct Action in Rochester History

This tour will visit sites in and near Downtown Rochester where people have taken their political, social, and economic grievances to the streets, and often prevailed. The physical landscape has changed somewhat, but the sites still bring history back to life — a history that includes the Vietnam anti-war movement (the “Flower City Conspiracy,” etc.), the rise of organized labor (1946 General Strike), the Civil Rights movement (especially the misnamed “Race Riot” of 1964) protests and civil disobedience against Reagan-era US attacks on Central America, and popular agitation against urban poverty and injustice.

Guide: RocBike.com’s own Jack Bradigan Spula

This tour will depart at 4 pm from Rochester Contemporary Art Center, 137 East Avenue. The ride will proceed at an informative pace for roughly 8 miles, then return to RoCo where participants are welcome to view Rochester Contemporary’ s current exhibition For Drawing Sake. A $5 donation per rider is encouraged and appreciated.

In case of rain call 802-2492

Julie White may be on to something. Here’s an excerpt from today on her site, My 45th Year:

What’s more, Adam came up with a new look for the site, and can you believe it, it’s ARGYLE!

Obviously, this is another sneaky way of sucking me into their cycling conspiracy…for heaven’s sake, anyone knows that a knitter, upon seeing argyle, is going to be compelled to design some bike-related accessory with said argyle pattern.

Read the rest of Julie’s conspiracy theory.

More pedaling, less singing (Comments: 0)

Author:
Date: 24 September, 2007
Category: Road Stories

My son Bernie and I were on our regular school/work commute this morning. All trip long, he’d been singing the theme to Superman: The Movie. He’s never seen Superman: The Movie, so I have no idea how he knows the theme.

Anyway, as we rounded the corner to his school, I sang the theme once myself. From ahead of me came the stern command: “More pedaling, less singing!”

Have I raised him too well?

Johnny on the bike (Comments: 0)

Author:
Date: 22 September, 2007
Category: Road Stories

My 18-month-old son John is not a big fan of the bike trailer. Each week, we shove him into it to go to the South Wedge Farmers Market. He cries most of the way, usually calling out “Mama!” several thousand times on the 10-minute ride. Given my various tire-related issues this week, I’ve been riding the Giant Sedona DX on my commute. A couple days ago, I finally decided to stick on a bike seat for John.

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John and I test out the new baby seat

Our neighbors across the street had a Bell bike seat that their kids have grown out of, and they gave it to us for free. With a little wrangling, I manhandled it onto the Giant and gave it a test run. John loved it!

[singlepic=250,475,475]
You can’t tell, but he’s having fun!

He kept saying, “mo, mo” while we were riding, which is Johnese for “More, more!” The seat is huge but fairly stable. I’ve never been thrilled with the kickstand on my Sedona, and I think I may need to find something better when I convert the Sedona into an Xtracycle in a couple weeks. (Hey, Adam and Julie — did I mention that I’d ordered an Xtracycle? Zing!)

[singlepic=254,475,475]

[singlepic=252,475,475]
I always wear a helmet when riding. This is just for the photo

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"Driving a car versus riding a bike is on par with watching television rather than living your own life." -- Bruce MacAlister

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