Jason sez: Welcome to new contributor Bill Corbett. Bill is the president of a small non-profit called Capital Region Sponsor-A-Scholar, Inc.. They help disadvantaged students in Albany, Troy and Schenectady graduate from high school and go on to college. When they get there, Sponsor-A-Scholar gives them $750.00 stipends for each successful semester they complete. Bill lives in Voorheesville with his wife Diane and son Ryan. His son Billy is a junior at Dartmouth college.

Approaching a complicated intersection

In an effort to help other bike riders (read: commuters) I will attempt to make some suggestions on how to approach and navigate a difficult intersection. In my travels to work on a regular basis, I have to navigate the intersection at 155 and 20 in Guilderland. This is a major intersection from all four directions. I approach from the south (Voorheesville) on 155, with the intention of going straight through to Washington Avenue Extension, where I work. It has both left- and right-hand lane arrows as well as four other lanes in either direction. In my first days of commuting to work, I avoided this intersection and went three extra miles each way to stay safe. Researching the safest route you will take is the first and possibly the most important step you can take in bike commuting.

As road work in the Capital Region progressed, Johnston Road was deemed to get a full makeover. This cut out my alternate route and forced me to confront the 155/20 intersection. It was a pleasant surprise to see that 155 actually had a large shoulder in many places but considerably more traffic, as well. They were also in the process of building a Stewarts halfway to my destination (read: ice cream cones on the way home, chocolate chip cookie dough). So I did my usual good research on the safest route for riding and decided that maybe this would work out after all.

My first approach to the 155/20 intersection went smoothly, as I got the light and no one in a car was making a right hand turn, as I was going straight ahead. This did not work out consistently, causing me to have to figure out where to head and when to take the lane in order to be seen and safe. The right-hand lane was doable until I reached the CVS on the right side of the intersection, but then I found I had to move to the left of the right hand turn lane in order to allow the car traffic to make the turn and not run me over (always a serious consideration on my part). So my plan is to approach with traffic, staying always to the right until traffic starts to back up at the light and I can move into the lane safely. As I proceed to the light with traffic, I move to the left of the right hand turn lane and wait for the light that allows traffic to go straight ahead, which I what I do.

On the return trip, as I said, the Route 155 section between 20 and Washington Avenue Extension where I work has an ample shoulder. I can safely use this all the way from work to Route 20 and then I have to confront yet another six lane choice. In this direction, two right-hand lanes have the right to make a right on the arrow. This is much more complicated and requires more eye contact along with other methods of communication such as hand signals and talking to drivers as they wait at the light to let them know what I am going to do. I choose to take the second right-hand turn lane and keep an eye on the traffic behind me to see if someone seems to want to turn right from the lane I am in. In the event this is the case, I again move over to the left-hand part of the second right-hand turn lane. When the light turns green for the straight ahead option, I proceed across the intersection. (Lots of times I stop for ice cream!)

Remember: always wear a helmet, as it is the single most important safety tool you have!

Next time, how to navigate a round-about.

Jason sez: I asked Dan Lill from R Community Bikes in Rochester to tell us about what they do and why. Thanks, Dan!

What started out as one man’s offer to fix a flat tire in the parking lot of a homeless shelter has developed into an incorporated, not for profit, volunteer army that provides more than five hundred bicycles to Rochester’s neediest citizens every year. Who would have thought!!

Bill Danza was serving lunch at St Joseph’s House of Hospitality when he was asked if he could do some minor bike repair for a guest. Bill willingly responded and soon drew a crowd in St. Joe’s parking lot. Bill promised to return the next week and out of that offer and with the assistance of many new volunteers over the years, has come what is now known as R Community Bikes. While the weekly repair and give away of bikes continues, RCB now has its own rented warehouse in one of Rochester’s poorest and most neglected neighborhoods.

Several times each week volunteers working at the warehouse receive donated bikes, patch tubes, adjust gears, true wheels, sort parts and otherwise ready bikes for distribution to those in need. Most importantly, they also greet recipients and hear their stories of need and then try to match the recipient to his/her new found “Cadillac” as the bikes are often called. Bikes are very frequently the most affordable means of transportation to jobs, schools, church, programs and meals at local social service agencies. These agencies also form an important link between individuals and RCB since referral letters are required before a bike can be obtained. This helps insure that bikes will be given to the most needy and most likely to benefit from them.

The current list of agencies referring clients numbers near thirty and ranges from shelters to community centers to refugee resettlement programs. The need is obvious and is growing as our economy continues to suffer. Those most in need seem to suffer first and most and RCB’s goal is to help level the playing field – if only in a small way.

To date this year, RCB has given out more than 400 bikes between our Wednesday program at St Joseph’s and our main location at the warehouse. This monumental task is possible only because of our volunteer base which numbers nearly one hundred as a list but with 15 -20 coming in each week. They are a varied group bringing bike skills for sure but also so much more. We have, among our group, fund raisers, carpenters, printers, electricians, computer experts, grant writers, clerical staff, teenagers, retirees, educators, students, the under and unemployed, bikers, nonbikers, the rich and the poor. The group is varied for sure but all committed to our mission of service to the community.

R Community Bikes is always looking for new volunteers to help us address our mission. We are also in need of specific bike tools, office supplies and for sure monetary contributions since we are a totally not-for-profit organization. Information can be obtained at rcombikes@yahoo.com; at our website: rcommunitybikes.net; by calling Dan at (585) 865-9872; or by visiting us at 226 Hudson Avenue in Rochester.

On 19 July 2008, a gang of bicycle riders went from the Daily Grind in Albany to the Daily Grind in Troy. This is their story.

Eighteen riders joined in the annual coffee shop ride sponsored by the Daily Grind Cafés. Our riders were Joe, Soze, Andrew (on a bicycle that actually had brakes), Dennis, Perry, Jennifer, Laura, aero-bar Lisa, Aaron, Gavin, Randy (on a recently reborn and pristine Atlantis), Lacey, and Amy. The locals were joined by a family who came all the way from Minnesota to participate in the ride – Tom as tandem captain, Soren as stoker, August as tail gunner in a Burley, and Mandy as escort.

Throughout the trip, our Metroland cover star was swamped by autograph seekers and adoring fans.

Gavin and Andrew sped us done the hill for our first meet up at the boat launch. We then had a pleasant cruise on a somewhat crowded bike path to sunny Watervliet for a photo op at the I-787 underpass. Led at a blistering pace by Amy, we headed through town, stopping near the arsenal where Soze, Gavin, and Andrew held an impromptu tech workshop on tire repair. After a short hop over the Green Island Bridge, we were welcomed with free coffees by the hospitable staff at the Troy Daily Grind.

While sitting in the sidewalk patio enjoying our brunch, the second wave arrived – Lacey, Randy, and the Minnesotans. Jim Clark, a long-time fixture on the local bike scene who recently returned from a year in Brooklyn, stopped in on his way from the Troy Farmers Market. We were also joined by Doug who seemed to have forgotten his bicycle.

At this point, some riders headed back to Albany (or wherever) and another group followed Amy and Dennis to the Farmers Market where we met up with the TBR crew led by birth parent and filmmaker Andrew. After stocking up, we headed back to Albany. Somewhat later Dennis (complaining about the weight of the two dozen cabbages he bought) and Laura (who stated that she had two bottles of wine) were found by the side of the road but under the attentive care of Wobbly-Wheel-Woodin. After a quick recovery, they zipped up Lark St.

We are all indebted to Lee, Rick, and the staff of the Daily Grinds for an enjoyable day.

– Lorenz Worden

Jason sez: Eric Larsson has contributed links to the daily list before. Here’s his first essay. Welcome, Eric!

Rochester needs a youth bike program.

I like the earn-a-bike model. Kids come to the shop, learn a hands-on repair curriculum working on donated bikes, and ride away on a bike of their own (with a helmet on their head). Two great examples are Bikes not Bombs and Recycle a Bicycle. We could go well beyond that. Maybe incorporate a local chapter of Trips for Kids. It could offer adult classes and a community workshop like the Broadway Bicycle School. If a few engineers, welders and machinists stepped up to the challenge it could be a human powered business incubator something like the Center for Appropriate Transport.

Rochester has all the elements to build and support something great: a well-developed bike culture, a large population of college students, a vibrant network of non-profit organizations, and plenty of kids to serve.

If I wasn’t so old and lazy I wouldn’t be writing this — I’d have already launched a youth bike program in Rochester. But, I co-founded one in Worcester, Massachusetts ten years ago, and now it’s time to step aside while the new talent steps forward. I’m happy to offer up free advice tempered by experience. I’ll share some good contacts. I might make a few phone calls or go to a meeting. I will make one concrete promise: I’ll secure at least one startup grant for anyone serious enough to take this on. Why wait? Let’s roll!

Jason’s note: This disturbing piece was contributed today by cycling photographer and rescuer of vintage bikes Joey Mac.

Wow, I seem to catch all the jerks on my lunch bike ride home. There is a narrow part of the road, where it is not safe for a car to pass a bicycle (a center island with a curb on the left, and a sidewalk with a curb on the right). I had an issue in the same spot last week, and had a driver yell at me for taking the full lane.

It happened again today where a car actually passed me in the narrow section of road, coming within inches of me. He of course had to stop soon after because of a car turning left, so as I passed him on the right, I said (this time without swearing or even really yelling) “More room, please.” I continued on his way, and he drove past me, yelled something, I said, “I need 3 feet for safety.” He pulled to a stop right up the road (in fact in front of my house), and got out. I stopped too, because I was at my house anyway. He must have thought I was ready to pick a fight with him. He was driving an Audi or something, and was wearing a golf shirt and some pressed khakis. Grade A douchebag all the way. He immediately came up to me and got in my face.

“what’s the issue here?!”

“you’re too close to me, I need more room if you are going to pass me,”

“YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF THE ****ING ROAD!”

“if you look up the traffic law, you’ll see that I have the right of way, and that you are required to yield or give me room,”

“WHAT YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT?!” (he then tries to psych me out by pretending to headbutt me, or whatever you call that. I didn’t flinch).

“I am a vehicle on the road, I have the same rights as you.”

(he was saying something else, but around this point he decided to just spit in my face)

I was dumbfounded for a second. Did he actually just spit in my face?

“That’s really mature sir.”

“YEAH, YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR MOUTH BECAUSE YOU’RE GOING TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED!”

At this point he was walking back to his car, obviously realizing that I was not going to back down and that I was not intimidated (I am a 5’10″ 200 pound viking, I don’t scare easily).

“Have a nice day sir, drive carefully”

And I walked towards my house. Just as I got to my door, I realized that I should have gotten his license number, but I was still too amazed that I had just had that encounter. He had peeled out and disappeared. The whole moment lasted about 30 seconds. My heart is still beating fast from the adrenaline rush 20 minutes later. I hope he realized that the couple seconds he might have saved by passing me ended up costing him an extra minute or so by stopping to try to pick a fight with me. And I am glad that this time I was able to keep my cool and not just swear a lot like last time I had an angry motorist yell at me. Maybe next time I will actually take down a license plate number too.

Ride carefully, fellow commuters.

Jason’s note: The following is an essay by local cyclist and beginning framebuilder Gary Young.

Cyclists have been giving it away for too long. By forgoing the automobile for some of our travel and keeping ourselves healthy, we confer benefits on the rest of society. Of course, many of us would cycle for the sheer joy of it regardless of whether it produced any positive externalities (as I believe an economist would describe our gratuitous benefits to society). But if cycling were better paid — either directly or through better enforcement of our rights or the provision of bike lanes, workplace showers and other amenities — then
there would be more of it.

Quantifying our externalities might also earn us more respect from other users of the road. Would someone who commutes by car be so quick to yell, “Get off the road!,” if he were aware that bicycle commuters reduce congestion, free up parking spaces, lessen demand for gasoline and lower his health-insurance premiums?

Until recently, there were few mechanisms in place to encourage people to internalize the societal benefits of cycling (and the negative externalities that flow from driving) when making decisions about how to travel or spend their leisure time. That’s beginning to change, I think. Probably the most prominent example is the congestion-pricing scheme instituted so successfully in London, which imposes a toll on drivers entering the city during times of peak congestion. New York City is looking at a similar scheme.

The rising costs of health care are also pushing efforts to make externalities more tangible. My Excellus health plan, and I’m sure many others, already helps pay for health-enhancing activities like gym memberships.

A brochure I received today from Excellus leads me to think that organizations that promote bicycling may be able to benefit from the concern about health-care costs.

The brochure announced that come 2008, Excellus would issue to me, at no additional cost, a “$650 pre-paid card to use for fitness and weight loss programs, with the freedom to go wherever and whenever you want. There are virtually no claim forms to complete…. It’s like a gift card you can use to improve your health!”

It occurred to me that bicycling organizations that sponsor rides might be able to use this mechanism to defray some of their expenses. According to a very helpful person in Excellus’ customer service department (whose name I neglected to write down, I’m afraid), the card will bear the Master Card symbol and can be processed by any organization that can process Master Card credit cards. The organization would have to be approved and she suggested bicycle organizations contact customer service if interested. I didn’t get a sense of how onerous the application process might be.

Is this a pipe-dream? I’m not sure. Would Excellus approve bike club membership fees? What about per-ride fees? One of the great things about so many rides is that they are free. If clubs made payment voluntary, would that be acceptable to a health plan? What about advocacy organizations that also sponsor rides? Would they be able to get funding for health-enhancing activities that indirectly benefit their advocacy efforts? (Doesn’t the YMCA carry on charitable activities?) Would the paperwork be too much?

I’d welcome comments on this idea.

Jason’s note: I’ve asked my friend and veteran cyclist Jack Bradigan Spula to contribute to RocBike.com. This is Part 11 of Jack’s essay about his recent trip through the northeast. Here are the previous installments:

I spoke too soon (see installment 10). Someone or a force of nature removed my edits from the USMC insignia on the River Trail. So I’m issuing a call to peace vandals. Your help is needed. And your paint.

But enough for now on the fine arts. Let’s transport ourselves to Route 50 between Saratoga Springs and Scotia, a 21-mile stretch that leads to Schenectady’s north portal at the Mohawk River.
(more…)

Jason’s note: I’ve asked my friend and veteran cyclist Jack Bradigan Spula to contribute to RocBike.com. This is Part 10 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 |

The transportation corridors between Lake George and Albany are among the most heavily used north of Westchester. And they have been since before the days of James Fennimore Cooper, whose romanticized and racialized imprint still lingers over land and water – as at Lake George’s reconstructed, indeed reinvented Fort William Henry. But here The Last of the Mohicans won’t grip your mind for long, not with the tourist glitz that is today’s commanding presence.

Yes, Lake George village, with all its lights, cameras, and action, is a nice place to visit briefly but a better place to leave, especially for a bicyclist. And luckily, the towns and villages south of the lake have capitalized on this by creating a 17-mile, largely paved bike path that goes through magnificent woodlands and open spaces.

This bike route, well-mapped and marked, connects the communities of Lake George, Glens Falls and Fort Edward. The route’s northern section, labeled the Warren County Bikeway, follows the “Old Military Road,” a shaded path below congested Route 9 that makes you think of the very old days when colonial armies went to and from the original Fort William Henry and points north, like Ticonderoga. But after a half dozen miles, and then a slight detour onto the roads, the bike route becomes the Feeder Canal Park Heritage Trail, which provides a trip through the industrial history of several towns beside the Hudson River.

The Feeder Canal itself, which is still watered, goes through various abandoned and semi-abandoned industrial sites and a stunning series of locks (reminiscent of the spectacularly engineered “17 Locks” of the old Genesee Valley Canal near Nunda, NY) and eventually joins the Old Champlain Canal and its accompanying towpath/trail. The Champlain Canal, though, has become a marsh – still attractive, and certainly more of a wildlife refuge than it used to be.

This interconnected canal system then leads you to the edge of Saratoga County, and before you know it – partly because the roadways, unlike the slow-paced, moribund canals, inspire you to make time – you find yourself in Saratoga Springs.

And only then do you understand you’ve made quite an economic journey, too. So few miles from the middle-class resort of Lake George, to the hard-luck town of Glens Falls, to the even harder-luck towns of Hudson Falls and Fort Edward, and then to affluence of Saratoga Springs, still banking on its Gilded Age legacy.

How to characterize these contrasting towns? Well, Saratoga Springs has the typical ooh-and-ah storefronts: designer clothing, you name it. And of course there are sidewalk cafes and restaurants, though the morning I was there, hardly any customers were around. But Fort Edward? Part of the reason I went there was to check out the Amtrak station; I was considering hopping a train to Schenectady and then catching a westbound train to Rochester for a couple days so I could finish some paid jobs. (In a future installment I’ll tell how I ended up biking all the way to Schenectady and catching the train there.)

Well, the Fort Edward station, a beautiful old building that’s being restored with grant money, is hardly ever open. You can board a train from the platform, but you can’t check baggage, etc., and so if you’re packing/boxing a bike you might as well forget it. But at least as you stand there admiring the architecture and pondering the history, you can reflect on what might have been and still may be.

And so it is with the village of Fort Edward, which, like the milltowns of the Mohawk Valley or eastern and southern New England, is a survivor. Maybe because I was born and raised in the rundown industrial city of Niagara Falls, I appreciate the classic milltown’s rugged poetry, written in limestone and brick and the good faith of people who refuse to let their hometowns die.

Postscript: Just before I jotted this stuff down, I went for a ride on the Rochester River Trail from downtown to Genesee Valley Park. A few things struck me. Why haven’t they opened the trail under the west side of the new Anthony-Douglass bridge yet? Why are cycling improvements always the last things to get done, even though they’re the simplest and cheapest?

Going further south: Why does the RPD continue to ignore illegal parking on Moore Road within GV Park? The few spaces provided there are supposed to be for park users, yet every time I pass through the area, I see that UR and Strong employees have hogged the spaces for free workday parking. UR parking staffers are aware of the situation, and so are the cops, so where’s the action? Ordinarily I don’t give a rat’s ass about parking — but here’s a situation where parkland is being abused and officialdom is looking the other way.

I saw great things on my ride, too: a wide selection of birds, including a great blue heron, and the oddly compelling phalanx of black (or European) alders along the northern stretch of Wilson Boulevard, coming visually alive in a reddening dusk. But the greatest sight was a paint-job. I noticed months ago that some jerk, maybe a ROTC type, had stenciled the Marine Corps emblem in two spots along the river trail, one near the UR Quad, the other almost at Ford Street. As an ex-Marine myself (heavy accent on the “ex”), I knew it was my duty to obliterate these guerrilla images, lest they corrupt the youth. So one night a few weeks ago, I took a can of gray spray paint and messed one of them up pretty bad. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough paint left in the can to cover the image entirely, so I said to myself that I’d have to re-arm and complete the mission later. But whaddya know? Some other anti-militarist came by and took care of it. Thank you, anonymous benefactor! This is the kind of rural pacification program that fits perfectly with the biking ethos.

Adam Durand is a bike commuter, filmmaker, and animal rights activist. Caitlin Holcombe is a bike commuter, craftmaker, and human rights activist. Together they form a bike commuting duo! They collaborated on this essay about their adventures in bikepooling.

A few weeks ago, we were working together on a gender awareness workshop for Beyond the Binary. We both mentioned that we commute to work by bike, and realized that we live in the same neighborhood and work in the same direction. We also, unfortunately, had both faced motorist aggression on roads designed with cars, trucks, and buses in mind instead of bicycles. And so began our experiment in bikepooling — we meet up just about every morning for 25 minutes of commuting, conversation, and adventure.

Our experience has been fantastic. This morning we ate a small breakfast together in the convenience store parking lot where we meet. We said “Hi” to people as they walked by, and shared a smug conversation about automobile repair costs. We headed out on our bikes, riding side by side down a double lane road, while the conversation continued. A couple cars honked at us at an intersection without a shoulder, but shortly after that we were turning off the busy street onto a side street and through the Public Market. From then
on, it was mostly easy riding, through the north side of downtown.

We’ve intentionally worked out a pleasant route that sticks mostly to side streets, which is new to Caitlin, who has been commuting for a year. Caitlin’s path took her straight down Main Street from west to east, during rush hour, with the ongoing dilemma of which lane to be in, the left lane or bus lane, and the increasingly isolating mentality of not even us vs. them, but me vs. them.

Caitlin has more bike commuting experience than Adam, and riding with her has given him more confidence on the road. Now he’s much less hesitant to take up the whole lane when cars cannot safely pass, and the reduced number of near misses has made his solo commutes more enjoyable. Likewise, Caitlin looks forward to her morning commute much more with a bike buddy and is able to take the ride at a more casual pace. She also appreciates the chance to feel more socially connected through conversation with Adam, as opposed to the usual social dynamic of a biker isolated amongst drivers.

We still come across angry motorists from time to time, but find that cars are slightly more respectful and patient when two of us are riding instead of just one. We both ride in a T-shirt and shorts for comfort and change once we get to work, but we’d like to find a way to send a message to motorists that we’re commuting to work just like they are, not simply riding around for recreation. Time to make some “Bike Commuter” T-shirts, perhaps.

It is unclear what it would really take to be respected as equally entitled to being on the road. The real dangers facing bikers, whether commuting or otherwise, are much more serious than hurt feelings from angry, screaming drivers. While the fears of being hit or “doored” by a car are alleviated during our bikepool, it will take more than increased visibility to change the attitudes of motorists.

So far, we’ve stuck exclusively to morning commutes — it’s a little easier for us to sync up the start of our workdays than the end of our workdays. But it might be fun to try an evening commute at some point. And we’d be more than happy to have other bike commuters join us in the morning.

Carpooling attempts to mitigate the problems inherent with using automobiles — fuel costs, environmental impact, traffic congestion, and parking space; to name a few. Commuting by bike eliminates these problems altogether instead of merely reducing them, so at first glance bikepooling may seem unnecessary. But bikepooling shares carpooling’s benefit of social interaction and brings a whole other set of benefits to the table — increased visibility on the road, improved respect from other road users, and cooperative adventuring. If driving a car is a passive, rote task; and riding a bike is about actually living your life; then bikepooling is a way to share the daily adventure of bike commuting with someone, to learn how to be safe and fun together, to try new routes and get into the groove of familiar ones, to laugh and play together while being ambassadors for a safer, cleaner, happier city.

Jason’s note: I’ve asked my friend and veteran cyclist Jack Bradigan Spula to contribute to RocBike.com. This is Part 9 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 |

I’ve tossed a few thousand words into cyberspace about my summer bicycling trip – but, as a few friends have pointed out, I haven’t dealt with the primary question. Why did I get on my bike in the first place?

Sure, I could have taken the same route by car (or approximately the same route by bus or train) and done the whole 1,000 miles in a couple of days, or a leisurely week by motoring standards. And to tell the truth, I would have seen pretty much every high point along the way.

But in these facile determinations lie the answers to “Why Bike?”

First, long experience leads me to believe there’s unbreakable link between biking and the human biological clock. Not an original thought, but so true: Just as in music, it’s a matter of rhythm and tempo.

Whether by accident or technological limitation or whatever, the bicycle was designed to be a close extension of the human body. It’s not a cocoon like a modern automobile or truck. (Recall that early cars and trucks were pretty open-air.) It’s not just a multiplier of muscle power, it’s almost part of your arm-and-leg motion and your biological drive to cover distance. (Think long runs across the savannah.) And as such, it heightens your awareness of the terrain you cover, not just on fast downhill “runs,” but also in quiet moments as you roll past woods and fields and (let’s face it) strip malls and used car lots.

In a car, you’re mentally at your destination before you’ve earned the journey, and the distances are the psychological equivalent of stoop labor. On a bike, though, you may be thinking about a hard pull ahead – that monster hill or unplanned ten-mile detour – but fundamentally you’re right “there,” in the Zen sense that you cannot be anywhere but where you are, if only you’ll realize it. And because, if you’re lucky and realize this, your body has to go peaceably along with your mind.

Somewhere Thoreau asks the reader, What mode of travel is the fastest? His answer: walking, which he contrasts with the trains of his day. But Thoreau wasn’t posing a Zen koan; as with much of his work, he was making a stripped-down calculation. To be able to ride the train, he said, a person must work x number of hours to buy the ticket; but walking is practically free. So when you compare the hours of work required to support each mode of travel, then add these hours to those spent en route, you have to conclude that walking is fastest.

I don’t claim that biking is faster than walking, in this sense. But I think it’s competitive, and that it transmits similar wholistic messages and values back through our bodies and spirits. Biking may be an industrial-technological compromise. (It’s certainly not atavistic or romanticist – not in a world where, way off the First World radar screen, hundreds of millions of people either use bicycles as their primary transport or wish they could afford to.) But it’s still uses the same language as the one we feel in our gut, genetically speaking.