Spokespeople (c)
Cyclists from Around the World Speak Out

Memorial Ride for Cyclists, Jan. 6, 2008
Article and Photo by Alfredo Garcia

It was a very solemn day to ride yesterday. I was part of a 5BBC tie-in ride for the annual Memorial for cyclists. We were to ride to the Brooklyn part of it (about 95%).
  
Nearly 20 of us gathered at the City Hall start point. Around 10:30am, we were riding over the Brooklyn Bridge.
  
The 5BBC leader, Ed DeFreitas (he’s also part of the NY Bicycle Coalition) had a safe short route to the Unknown Cyclist, utilizing various marked Brooklyn bike lanes. He even had a rest stop at a local bike shop (Bicycle Station).
 
I’m glad the 5BBC made this day their only official ride. I asked the 5BBC Executive Board and Mr. DeFreitas in particular to do this ride.
  
Some 23 individuals lost their lives riding their bicycles. Besides mourning them, it was also important to know that they were human beings, with dreams, desires, hopes and aspirations, like all of us. And they had family and friends who loved them.

For the past two years, these people were memorialized with white “Ghost” bikes.
  
We meet Ryan Nuckel and her group. At the site at Utica & Fulton, flowers were placed on the Ghost bike and sincere speeches were made for the departed Unknown Cyclist & the others. I also saw Charlie Komanoff. A group of three cyclists with folding bikes from Philadelphia also made the trip, for the second year in a row.
 
Visiting the Unknown Cyclist was particularly sad. There was no family or friends to see him, save for the groups. It is hope that his spirit, may it rest in peace, was happy we remembered him. His fate would not be like water, transparent and unnoticed. Not for him.
  
We visited four more sites. The family of Jeffrey Moore came, dressed in their Sunday’s best. Nearby were several churches. One was Pentecostal and I could hear their enthusiastic band music played, behind closed doors. It sounded like a souped-up version of Stevie Wonder’s “I Wish.” And oh yeah, just about when Moore’s memorial was finished, we heard sounds of cars colliding, a few blocks away.
  
I found the memorials for Anthony Delgado and Craig Murphey touching for displays of momento mori:
  
Delgado’s family came to the memorial in a black car with a colorful portrait of him in the front hood. When you lifted the back cargo door, you can see a glass art portrait of him along with a hip-hop song mourning him. His white ghost bike locked to a sign post, also had a red and white flower arrangement into a Christian cross.
  
Murphey’s memorial had a nice arrangement of candles at the bottom of the bike’s wheelbase (the bike also belonged to Murphey). His friends, notably three young ladies were there and tearful. Murphey’s bike was locked to a lamppost. The lamppost was plastic wrapped with food, poems, photos of Murphey, etc. I saw Danny Lieberman and Carol W.
  
Most of the other groups, including ours converged at the Brooklyn end of the Williamsburg Bridge. A police escort was waiting for us at Delancey St., mostly consisting of several 15-passenger vans. We surrounded a traffic island, near Canal St. and the Williamsburg Bridge that was a memorial for Sam Hindy. His Dad, also a cyclist was there and said a few words.
  
The NYPD were very nice with us, since the Times Up! New Year’s Eve ride (Dec. 31, 2007). Instead of giving tickets, they were running interference, they held up traffic for the Hindy memorial and as we rode along the heavily trafficked Canal St.
  
About 95% of the 5BBC tie-in ride, Louie B. rode with us. He’s a very senior cyclist with a small FIXED GEAR bike. In fact, he’s well known that he has LIFE MEMBERSHIPS in both the 5BBC & the NYCC. Even more remarkable was the fact he’s 90 years old and still riding. I made it a point to slow down and to stick to him as an escort. He made it to City Hall and then he RODE home. It was cold.
  
Between City Hall and the Brooklyn Bridge, the final Ghost Bike was displayed to collectively mourn the nine unknown cyclists who lost their lives in 2007. I saw several young children and their Moms who stopped and looked carefully at the bike, before moving on.
  
Thanks to all who gave their respects and especially the organizers of the Memorial Ride, particularly Nate (the Sweep) and Ryan (the Point), Transportation Alternatives and various organizations and individuals. Sentiments likewise, I hope we don’t have to do this ride next year and beyond….

Link to the Unknown Brooklyn Cyclist ghost bike:
www.ghostbikes.org/new-york-city/unnamed

Ghost Bikes Press Kit 2007:
www.ghostbikes.org/files/ghostbikes/ghostbikes-2007-press-kit.pdf



A Tale of Survival
Posted Oct. 20, 2007
Below is a story as told by a good friend who had an accident in August, 2006. He barely survived. But he is riding again today. Read on.

The story isn’t too exciting.  The old man was in an oncoming lane and tried to take a left sweeping turn at a very obtuse intersection.  I was still in the intersection and got hit head on. I flew face first into the windshield, and actually totaled his car.  My bike also was destroyed.  There are some pics
 
The driver told the cops that he was only traveling 5 mph, and that I came out of nowhere to hit him.  An eyewitness begged to differ, and informed the investigating officers that the old man was traveling at around 40 mph and didn’t slow to take the turn. I have no doubt that he didn’t see me.  He was a 79 yr old disabled WWII vet who probably couldn’t see anything.  The DA declined to prosecute, though he was ticketed for failing to yield the intersection.
I don’t remember getting hit.  

My last recollection before the accident was kissing my wife good-bye as she was coming in from a morning ride, and I was getting on my bike to ride to work.  My next recollection was waking ten days later in the Albany Medical Center ICU.  I had broken my skull, both orbits, my nose and maxilla (top part of jaw to which upper teeth are anchored) and a handful of vertebra. I also dislocated my shoulder, and in doing so, severely tore my rotator cuff and labrum. I now have titanium mesh under both eyes, a plate in my head above my temple, an entirely reconstructed shoulder, and I am wearing dental braces for about one more year.  I am having some final plastic surgery over the two months, as well as LASIX or PRK to restore my vision.

It sounds like a lot, but I was really fortunate.  I was wearing a helmet, which kept me alive.  I did not lose my eye, which was initially a concern of my physicians, I didn’t suffer any lasting or significant impairment of my brain function, I didn’t lose a single tooth, and my shoulder surgery worked out fine.

Most of the scarring on my face has faded, and the rest should be taken care by the plastic surgeon.  I was back to work after 6 months, and began working out on my trainer and doing spin classes at about the same time.   The experience really sucked, but it did make me appreciate things that I had taken for granted previously.

Among the lessons learned -- (1) check your insurance.  I have a car, and pay extra for increased limits on my no fault and my supplemental uninsured/underinsured motorist (“SUM”) coverage. 

The clown who hit me only had $50K in no fault.  My first day in the hospital cost close to $100K, and I’m sure that all of my medical expenses, when totaled, will approach $500K.  After the driver’s no-fault was exhausted, my no fault kicked in and covered all my expenses.  If I didn’t have coverage, I’d currently be in bankruptcy.

It isn’t a consolation, but I also received his full liability policy as well as my SUM policy.  While I’d give back in a second to undue things and not waste a year of my life, the money did make it much easier for my wife to leave her job so she could tend to me while I was home convalescing.  I don’t know what kind of insurance is available to city-dwellers who don’t own cars, but if I still lived in the City, I would not ride before investigating the available options.

There simply are too many drivers who do not have ample insurance, if they have any at all. In fact, this is the article you may wish to write: contact some insurance companies and see what is available for cyclists who don’t own motor vehicles. This issue seems like it would be unique to NYC.

I also have one of the RoadID tags attached to my shoe, and I will not ride without it.
 
Two Cyclists Killed by Drunk Driver in Oaxaca, Mx. --
Un Borracho Matan Dos Ciclistas en Oaxaca, Mx.
Cyclists Protest Lax Laws, Vow Changes
March 15, 2007
(The following is from an email sent by Pedro Martinez, previous Mexican National rider, faithfully translated by Katie Lambden, NJ).
    Hello Jennifer: a pleasure to greet you again.  I want to tell you about something really tragic that has happened to two promising cyclists from Oaxaca.  I know that you have been working on ways to get more space for cyclists [on the roads]; for this reason and also because you met the Alberto Baylon [cycling] group I wanted to write you. 
    Hopefully we can initiate something or you can furnish us your ideas to start a project that has been suggested by all the “friends of cycling” in the area.  We want to call the project “The Glanny/Demetrio Initiative in Oaxaca” after the two cyclists killed in the tragic accident (the details of which you may acquaint yourself with on the newspaper page). 
    The initiative will concern itself with getting the authorities to put notices/signs on the roads (both federal and state roads) to alert drivers that cyclists are present.  Also it will start a permanent educational campaign directed at drivers, to protect pedestrians, carts, cyclists, and animals.  It will push to make helmet use obligatory for all cyclists.  We will get a personal interview with the governor to seek the strongest way to achieve the goals of the project.  We also are seeking to put a higher price in the case that the driver of a car kills someone.  Right now if the driver of a truck kills someone, it only costs him seventy thousand Mexican pesos.  How can the dependents [loved ones] of the victim live; how long can they survive with that kind of money? 
    We are going to invite all the sporting groups to come together on this project and present a united front.  Any other points we will attempt to achieve in the future, I’ll let you know after the next meeting.  OK, I’ll say goodbye now and if I have any more information for you I’ll write.

EN ESPANOL:
From: Bicicletas Pedro Martinez <oaxmb@prodigy.net.mx>
Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2007 20:54:09 -0600
    Hola Jennifer gusto saludarte, En éste momento quise saludarte y comentarte algo muy trajico que ha sucedido a dos ciclistas promesas de Oaxaca, se que tu has buscado de varias maneras la forma de que se den espacios a lo ciclistas, es por eso y porque conociste al grupo de Alberto Baylon quise escribirte para que ojalá iniciemos ó nos aportes tus ideas para iniciar un proyecto que se propuso por todos los amigos del ciclismo presentes en el los dos cepelios, mismo que se le llamará "Inicictiva GIanny/Demetrio en Oaxaca" nombre de los dos fallecidos por el trájico accidente mismo del que te enterarás a través de la página del periodico Noticias, y que consiste en lo siguiente:
    Buscar que las autoridades correspondientes pongan señalamientos en las carreteras tanto federales como estatales de que circulan ciclistas. Iniciar una campaña permanente de concientización a todos los automovilistas para proteger a peatones, carretas, ciclistas y animales. Hacer que el uso del casco sea obligatorio para los ciclistas, Hacer una entrevista con el Gobernador personalmente para buscar con mayor fuerza y se cumpla el proyecto. Buscaremos poner un precio elevado en caso de que un automovilista mate a cualquier persona ya que se sabe que la consigna de los conductores de camiones (urbanos) es de que si atropellas mátalo es mas barato solo te custa $70,000.00 (Setenta mil pesos Méxicanos) ¿como podrán vivir ó que tiempo podrán sobrevivir los seres queridos del muertito con éste dinero?. 
    Vamos a invitar a todas las agrupaciones deportivas a unirse a éste proyecto y hacer un frente común. y otros puntos que en adelante trataremos en la proxima reunión te informaré.  Buéno me despido y si tengo más información te escribo, Un Abrazo Tu amigo
Pedro Martínez



Floyd Landis Shows at the Roller Races
By Uncle Joe
Feb. 8, 2007--The guys at Nyvelocity.com organized a roller-racing event, and guess who showed up? The big man himself: Floyd Landis. Floyd didn’t come to race, however. He was in town for his Floyd Fairness Fund town-hall meeting, which was being held the next day in Brooklyn. But he joined in with the fun, drank some beer, and laughed with the rest of us. He also MC’d the final round of racing with a microphone and P.A. system (videos here).

This was the second roller-racing event held by Nyvelocity.com, and the racing attendance (14 men and 3 women) was double that of the December event. The previous event’s winners were back again (Andrew LaCorte and Erin Dyer), along with the winner of last year’s Kissena Cycling Club roller races, Gui Nelessen.

Fake money was given out at the door for fake gambling. Printed on the bills was the face of Italian pro rider Salvatore “Toto” Commesso (image here). Posters were hanging on the wall with the words, “I rock, I roll” printed over the face of Salvatore Commesso. Cowbells were available that read, “Toto Bell” in the style of the Taco Bell logo. But in the place of a bell’s image was the face of Toto Commesso.

To explain Nyvelociti.com’s obsession with Toto Commesso, I’ll describe Commesso. However, that may not fully explain the obsession. Salvatore Commesso is short and stout. He’s not exactly fat, but he’s wider than most cyclists and appears to be pushing the limit. He often rolls up his jersey sleeves on the hotter days, which is considered a style faux pas in the tradition-rich European peleton. Commesso has been sporting a goatee lately-- a bit unusual in the clean-shaven, neatly-groomed group. Toto also has a style of racing that has attracted some attention among riders and spectators: he follows particular riders to get into the winning breakaways, appearing to glue himself to that rider’s wheel for the day. In short (no pun intended), he stands out.

But back to the roller races:
Competitors ride on resistance-free rollers (leg speed is the physical limiter) that are hooked up to a large dial. Up to three riders can compete at once. They race in qualifying heats of 500 meters (completed in 18-23 seconds) and finals of 1000 meters. During the races, spectators drink, yell, stomp, and fake-gamble with the Toto bills. There were some interesting bets, like who will likely fall and how quickly, whether or not a competitor will begin coughing after competing (this rider occasionally smokes), how long it will take for a particular competitor to run his hand through his hair after finishing, whether a rider will step off with his right leg or left, etc. It got very silly. And why not? It wasn’t real money.

Between rounds, three of the promoters decided to race each other. One of them chugged a beer before starting (the author had put Toto-money on him to win, obviously without having seen the beer chug). Another of the promoters had an old-school setup with clips and straps. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s a bit unusual to see.

The finals were held with riders competing side-by-side. The women’s final was decided between Erin Dyer and Tara Parsons, with the former taking her second consecutive victory. The men’s final was decided between defending winner Chris LaCorte and last year’s Kissena winner Gui Nelessen. This was a very tight contest with LaCorte (a.k.a. Cupcake) assuming the initial lead, Nelessen taking over the lead at 500m, LaCorte surging to resume the lead at 700m. Although the contest was still very close, it looked as if LaCorte would likely hold the lead for the win. But then he fell off, leaving Nelessen to spin to victory.

Floyd Landis announced the winner and conducted a brief interview. He also interviewed some of the other competitors about their rides. Then there was a podium celebration with Toto winners’ jerseys being presented (Floyd wore one too), prizes given, and beer sprayed. After the competition, the riders changed into their street clothes and hung out with the spectators in the bar. It was truly a fun night for all.

Editor's note: If you can guess the real identity of Uncle Joe, you get a prize. Please write to  jbenepe@msn.com to collect.

Wouter Tas Bikes South America!
    Jan. 28, 2007--Oaxaca, Mx. I met Wouter in Oaxaca, Mexico almost exactly a year ago. I was riding back from a mountain bike trip from one of the small towns southeast of the city of Oaxaca. I was tired and dirty, and trying to avoid cars on the narrow streets, on my way to Pedro Martinez's bike touring company.
    Suddenly a young man comes riding up besides me. "Can you tell me where there  is a bike shop around here," he asked. I told him I was heading to one, and he could follow me. He was riding an old steel bike with hybrid tires but no shocks. He had been riding all the way from the top of Mexico. I was impressed: we were about 1,700 miles from the Texas-Mexico border.  I have driven that distance and had a good idea of all the dangers and challenges he had likely faced, epecially around Mexico City.
    Over the following days I met with Wouter, who is from Belgium and speaks perfect English, to tell him about cycling in Oaxaca and he told me he was going to continue on through the rest of South America. He is still there right now, almost a year later. What follows is the first installation of his series, photos and all.

Pic: migracion. Me at the border crossing from Ecuador to Peru. Photo: Gregg Bleakney.

    I started this journey on the 20th of January 2006 somewhere in the hills around Mexico City where my good friend Alejandro that i had met on the internet had dropped me by car. I had no real plan other than “biking around for six months in Central America”, and no more then a vague notion of the road ahead.
    My equipment consisted of a motley collection of old clothes and camping gear, and a 150 Dollar second hand Mountain bike. The best part (the cherry on the cake, as we say in Belgium) where my panniers: I had personally sewn them together on my mothers kitchen table out of two old Belgian post bags and waterproofed them with liquid latex.
    So long! cold, rainy Belgium. No more bartending jobs for the next six months! I had reached a point in my life where a crazy idea like this was the only way to break with the monotony and depressing mediocrity my life had been suffering from for so long.

Pic: red hills oaxaca. The red hot hills of Oaxaca. Photo: Spinningsouthward.

    Quickly I discovered that biking alone on the dry and hilly back roads of hot, hot Mexico, without any previous experience and with no one to have a decent conversation with for days and days (my Spanish was very basic back then), wasn’t what I thought it would be. I hadn’t exactly done my homework, I must admit.
    I thought Mexico would be all about jungle roads and Tequila Sunrises around every corner. But apart from that tough and adventueous ride through the beautifull national park of te Popocatepetl volcano, the first serious piece of climbing I ever undertook on my trip, it bothered me that the landscape during the dry season was quite dull and didn’t inspire me much.
    So I decided to head for the Pacific Ocean where I thought all the fun and palm tree beaches would be. I needed some more green quickly, and some more bikers too! I went down through the provinces of Puebla and then to Oaxaca.
    At the central market in Oaxaca City, I met Jen. She literally came flying by on her mountain bike -she just got back from a training ride in the surrounding mountains. But a woman cyclist on a good bike like that, in Oaxaca city, that catches my interest. I told her I was on a bike trip. To make it sound more convincing, I added: “to Panama City”. I still love her answer: “What? On that bike?!” So we ended up hanging out for a couple of days, and promised to stay in contact. She certainly must have thought I was crazy.


Pic: Popocatepetl. The Popocatepetl national park.
Pic: photo707_big. Putting everything back together after servicing the hub of my rear wheel.

    After that I went down to Puerto Escondido, a little town that if i could believe my Lonely Planet, would offer me the fun I was longing for. I could already smell that ocean over the mighty Sierra Madre de Oaxaca range. But mighty it was, and it costed me a lot of sweat and perseverance to get over it with my untrained skinny legs.
    I remember how glad I was when I finally made it up what must have been my first pass, after hours of biking under that merciless Mexican sun. Hey, the highest point in Belgium is 694 meters, and coming from a night time rhythm as a bartender, I had a hard time getting on the road before ten o’ clock! I remember looking at my map, way to make sure of myself, and drawing out an adventurous route down to the coast.
    Oh hubris, big mistake! Ended up climbing a whole lot more than I had anticipated, on what I thought would be an easy off-road section but certainly wasn’t. But a lot of cursing and sweating led also to the discovery that the true beauty of nature doesn’t reveal itself easily. And boy, I got my jungle adventure too: Bumping down for 25 km on a way to technical track for an inexpert Belgian, with that unstable DIY pannier set up.
    A race against time, it was getting dark, my cheap bike light failed and there was nothing there but jungle and a lot of animal noises. And why the map said it was only 12 km till the next town, I’ll never know. I discovered about off road bike traveling the hard way, my whole body hurt like hell, I was covered in mosquito bites and the moon was up.
    What now, sleep here? By now jaguars and other scary animals probably had picked up my smell, I fantasized. But I was lucky. A helpful motorcyclist guided me down to the nearest village -still more than 45 minutes away- in the strong beam of his light.  He sold books in the surrounding area and knew people in whose house I could spend the night. I stayed with a friendly farming family, and the next morning I drank freshly roasted coffee from beans that had just been harvested and lay drying on the roof, and tortillas they made in front of my eyes. It ended all very well, but I vowed never to travel off road again with such a heavy bike set up. Never in my life again!

So the next day I reached Puerto Escondido. And quite easily too, after that road had suddenly turned from an impassable mud pool into smooth black asphalt. I got a surprisingly cheap hotel room with a terrace that gave out on a beautiful palm tree beach. The night was warm and there were thousands of  stars and the noise of the ocean.
    The next day I lay my bony body to soak in the Pacific. Mighty waves, but warm blue water, nothing like the cold brown North Sea I knew of. Surf dudes and girls everywhere! Sipping on my best pineapple cocktail ever, while laying in a hammock, I finally got to see the positive side of my trip. I was in heaven. Didn’t I do some amazing things in the last days?
    And people gave me credit for the way I was travelling, and they were interested in my adventures. I hung around with a French group of artists that traveled around in three enormous yellow, second-hand school buses, met a Canadian that traveled around in Central America before going back north for the tree planting season. And me? I was no longer the guy without a story, from now on I was the guy that biked to Panama City! I almost felt completely happy there. If only I could meet up with other bikers… There had to be other bikers!
 
Wheels of Love in Israel
By Jonathan Sopher, Englewood Cycling Club
Nov. 25, 2006-- The 7th annual Alyn Hospital International Bike Ride, Wheels of Love, took place from October 29 to November 2, 2006 and included many riders from Bergen County. Four hundred and fifty riders from nine countries participated in this five-day bicycle tour from Jerusalem to Eilat.
    The cyclists had a choice of three different routes. The routes included off-road (for mountain bicycles only), on-road, and on-road challenge (increased mileage and difficulty). The purpose of the ride was to raise money for Alyn Hospital in Jerusalem, a pediatric rehabilitation center. The dedicated cyclists spent months preparing for this physically demanding ride and took off a significant amount of time from work and family life to participate.
      Alyn Hospital is one of the world's leading centers that specializes in the active and intensive rehabilitation of children with a broad range of physical disabilities and is the only facility of its kind in Israel. Alyn is a non-profit organization treating physically handicapped children and adolescents, regardless of religion or ethnic background.        
    Who says raising money for charity can’t be fun? This ride had everything a Jewish cyclist could dream of including pristine roads, camaraderie among riders, breathtaking scenery and kosher food. The ride was truly an adventure from start to finish.
    The ride started in Jerusalem during a torrential rainstorm then continued down to the warm Dead Sea region along the beautiful Aravah road (route 90), where the silence of the desert and all its mystic beauty was appreciated by all. The views of the Dead Sea and Jordan were majestic and serene. The rides lasted from early morning to late afternoon.  Accommodations ranged from youth hostels to Bedouin tents.
     Highlights of the ride included a climb of 4,500 feet over up the Serpentine road known as Ma’aleh Akrabim (Scorpion Ascent) from the Dead Sea to Dimona, a 70-mile ride from Dimona to Mitzpe Ramon that included amazing views of Makhtesh Ramon (Ramon Crater – Israel’s “Grand Canyon”) and  Sde Boker, the former residence and gravesite of Israel’s first Prime Minister, David Ben-Gurion. The exhilarating tour ended in the seaside resort city of Eilat, which allowed the riders some well deserved relaxation.
     Team Englewood raised over $100,000.00. If you are interested in donating to this worthy cause please visit the alyn.org website. If you want to join Englewood Cycling Club, or write them an email, write to contact@englewoodcycling.com.

Contested Streets Now Available on DVD
"Contested Streets: Breaking NYC Gridlock" is now available on DVD through Transportation Alternatives.
The film explores ways cities around the world are breaking free from the chokehold of traffic, enhancing the quality of life and environmental sustainability and allowing room for their economies to grow and flourish.
Hoping to enact change in New York City’s streets, making them safer and easier to navigate for pedestrians and cyclists, the filmmakers and producers plan to use this film to gain awareness and impact city officials decisions

In response to safety concerns on New York City streets and inspired by the changes that cities like London, Copenhagen and Paris have brought about on their streets, T.A. and the NYC Bike Coalition drafted the “Bike Safety Action Plan,” a year-old precursor to the city’s new plan.

The plan demands a number of changes, including a call for the City of New York to commit to a comprehensive study of all NYC bike fatalities since 1996 to be released in a City Hall event no later than September 30, 2006; develop and implement an aggressive, ongoing enforcement campaign to deter drivers X-Hotmail-From: from illegal behaviors that put cyclists in peril; commit to implementing the “Bike Master Plan” by 2010 with the goal of putting every New Yorker within a half mile of the bike network.

Jill Meisner, October 9, 2006
Another Ghost Bike in Manhattan
By Alfredo Garcia
    July 6, 2006--I wasn't able to ride to the memorial.  Had to work.  Instead, I walked to the greenway afer work.  Bought a bunch of purplish-blue flowers. 
    By 7:15 p.m. I got there, with a downpour of rain.  I was surprised where the site of the accident occurred.  It's near the NY Waterway terminal.
    A ghost bike, a decommissioned ATB, was locked up to a signpost with the following white sign: "Carl Nacht, 56 years old, Killed by truck, June 22, 2006, Rest in Peace."
     I placed my flowers on the ghost bike.  It was between a gap where the chain lock, signpost and bike meet.  Took pictures.  A few cyclists came by.  One dressed in a Discovery racing team kit told me he knew the late doctor from a friend.  Before leaving, he said he'll be wearing a helmet from now on (he didn't wear one at the moment though).
     Another cyclist stopped. She was from Europe.  She gave her condolences to the late doctor.
    Another wave of rain brought a wind that messed up the flower arrangements.  I took the trouble to neaten it.  With my trousers, shoes and socks drenched, I went into the nearby NY Waterway terminal to dry out and collect my thoughts.
     I have a feeling that the ghost bike will always have a supply of fresh flowers, from well wishers to remember the late doctor and for cyclists to be alert when riding.  The city should put some kind of memorial so nobody forgets and they should start taking cyclist safety seriously.
Editor's note: Alfredo's story was originally written on June 30, 2006.
Also see Mike Pidel's video recording of the memorial ride.

Return to Nycyclenews.com.
 14 Hours in Amsterdam: Exploring Bike Paradise on Two-Wheels
By Katie Lambden
    May 26, 2006—I was on my way to France for my first European racing experience in the Tour Féminin, and examining my travel itinerary when I realized I would have a 14-hour layover in Amsterdam.  So I decided to spend the day exploring as much of the Netherlands’ capital city.  We arrived in Amsterdam at 6 a.m., and I was one of the first customers at the airport tourist information center when it opened at 7, bought a map and asked for directions to the city center.  It ended up being beautifully easy – the train running to City Center ran right under Schiphol airport.
    Once at the main Amsterdam train station situated on the edge of the city center or Centrum, I walked along the bright and busy morning streets with a sense of adventure and excitement.  I bought a pastry and watched people commuting to work.  I had always heard of Holland (and Amsterdam in particular) as a place where bikes rule the roads, but I was nevertheless surprised and delighted to see businesspeople in suits pedaling along the main thoroughfares on their way to the job.  Men cruised along with their ties tossed over their shoulders; women flew by with one hand on the bars and one hand keeping their skirts from creeping up.  No one wore a helmet and the pace of travel seemed calm in contrast with New York City.
    I came across “Holland Rent-A-Bike”, and a huge grin spread over my face.  Of course!  How better to explore the city of bikes than on two wheels?  I ducked inside and was out 10 minutes and only 7 Euros later, wheeling my very own Dutch steed.  These bikes are purpose-built and no-nonsense.  Single speed, coaster brake, full chain-guard, moustache handlebars, rack on the back, and built-in rear wheel lock are the characteristics evolved by these flat city machines.
    Hopping on my anonymous-looking black “women’s frame” vehicle, I wobbled a bit unsteadily out into the street.  The upright position and funky handlebars made the steering a little different than on my Fuji racing bike!  And the coaster brake gave me a few moments of trouble when I’d come to a light and grasped frantically for hand brakes that weren’t there.  But I couldn’t stop smiling as I maneuvered my rig out among the morning traffic.  There were so many bikes!  Professionals on their way to jobs, teenagers on their way to school; mothers pedaling their young children to school or the nursery: they all jostled knee-to-knee in the swirling hubbub of the city.  Many bikes had wooden boxes built over the front wheel with a tiny bench inside to carry children from three to six years old.  I saw children between one and two years old riding on mini seats mounted to the bike’s top tube, situated right next to the handlebars.  Older kids sat behind their parents on the rear rack, or pedaled their own tiny bikes just behind, like ducklings learning to swim.
Following my nose, I turned down whichever street looked most inviting at an intersection.      This is how I rode around the central city, discovering little bridges over canals, tiny old streets, and miniature squares just a few blocks from the downtown, yet entirely removed from the 21st century hustle and bustle.  I eventually found my way back to a main “Straat” and joined the flow of traffic again. 
    Here I was fascinated by the bike lanes separated from the auto traffic by an intervening strip of curb-and-cobblestone.  I loved the traffic lights for these bike lanes which had little green, yellow, and red bikes that lit up, along with numbers counting down to let cyclists know how long they had before the light changed.  I had the delicious experience of being in a bike traffic jam – imagine so many bikes at an intersection that we all had to wait for the two-wheeled traffic to move before putting foot to pedal again!
    Later in the morning, when I got tired of making random turns down the picturesque streets of the old city, I headed for the Vondelpark – a large park in the Oud Zuid section of Amsterdam.  The park was really lovely, and actually reminded me quite a bit of Central Park.  There were wide paved avenues and unpaved paths, curving around ponds, through quiet glades, and across meadows.  There were people jogging, walking, and cycling – all at an unhurried pace.  I saw a woman in a three-wheeled modification of a bicycle, with two wheels supporting a large box in front of the handlebars; she was pedaling two boys in the front “box” seats plus one younger child in a seat on the rear rack!  I asked if she minded if I took a picture and she was happy to oblige.
    As I left the Vondelpark, I saw a bike shop and steered toward it, curious to look around.  I stepped inside, and greeted the owner in English.  Almost everyone in Holland speaks English; the language is also used on signs and menus everywhere, and seems almost more universal than Dutch. The owner let me look around and take photos of his tiny shop filled nearly floor to ceiling with bikes.  Some shop owners in New York think they have space issues – they should take a look at the small buildings in Amsterdam housing bike shops!  Almost all of the bikes in this shop were used – either old bikes for resale or bikes in for repair.  The owner explained that there’s hardly any market for new bikes in Holland, which may explain why all the bikes I saw there looked at least 10 years old, with very little original paint! 
    Come to think of it, it was very interesting to me that bikes in Holland didn’t seem to represent expressions of individuality or personal style in the way they often do in the U.S.  In fact, besides the occasional bit of ribbon or silk flowers wound around handlebars, none of the bikes were decorated at all.  I wondered how – among the thousands of nearly identical bikes parked along railings and on racks in front of buildings, people managed to recognize their own vehicles.  Even teenagers – usually among the most fashion-conscious segment of the populace – seemed to have the same old beater bikes as their parents and grandparents.  I didn’t see a single BMX bike, and spied only a couple derailleur mountain bikes all day.  I saw three or four road bikes, but only one couple dressed in spandex out for a real “road ride” on bikes more modern than 10-speeds.
    After missing a night’s sleep on the plane over, by midday I was fading fast, so I headed to a huge open meadow by the Van Gogh museum and stretched out on the grass for a little nap.  After dozing in the sun for an hour and a half, then reading parts of the novel Girl with a Pearl Earring, by Tracy Chevalier, which is set in Holland and is about Vermeer’s famous portrait, I felt thirsty and hot, but a bit more awake.  It was about 80 degrees and a gorgeous day, and although I thought about going into the Van Gogh museum, I just couldn’t bring myself to miss any of the beautiful weather.  I rode away from the center of town, following a small caravan of punk kids carting musical equipment, on bikes of course.  Pretty soon I had ridden far enough out of the city that I couldn’t find my location on my city map.  Several helpful strangers later, I headed back to town along a major canal with many houseboats.
    Once close to the Centrum area again, I found a café (well, the sign said “Café” but it looked like a bar inside to me) and ordered a soft drink.  Refreshed, I stepped back out into the sunshine, unlocked my trusty bike, and continued.  I took a quick tour around Amsterdam’s famous red light district on my way back to return the rental bike.
By 5:30 p.m. it was time to say goodbye to the Dutch bike paradise and board the train back to the airport.  Fully satisfied with my adventure, I reminisced happily about all the people, places, and bikes I’d seen during my grand day out.  Amsterdam is a lovely city, small enough to be accessible but large enough to take some time to explore.  Traveling by bike is certainly the way to go – even more so here than anywhere else I’ve been on two wheels. 
Editor's Note: Ms. Lambden races for the women’s cycling team, Lipton. She lives in New Jersey with her husband Pollo, who races for Mengoni. She finished the 10-day Tour Feminin without a scratch.

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A Response to Rampant Klein Criticism
By your host, JB
    May 26, 2006--Although it is not my responsibility to do so, I feel I must respond to the many members of the Five Boro Bike Club who have spoken out, mostly amongst themselves, about Steve Klein's review of the 5 Boro Bike Tour. The adjective "freeloader" has used disparagingly to describe Klein because he rode the tour for free. As I pointed out to Danny Lieberman, member of the 5BBC (pictured above) and also chief of ebikes, and unfortunate bearer of the negative message from various, unidentified 5BBC members, Klein has been a frequent previous volunteer at the event, which he even noted in his write up.  Plus he may be the only one of the many hundreds, and perhaps thosands who did not pay for the ride this year, who actually admitted to doing so.
    Klein's intent was to ride alongside while not partaking of the tour's support or resources, not to freeload as he has been accused of doing. And in the end, he was "press". So by the true measure of a man, he has already made up for his misdeed, even if it was bestowed on him by unplanned fortune, that is, Benepe calling him after the tour and asking him to review it.
    His review is cinema verite, not the false reality TV we have been bombarded with over the past few years by bored TV producers. No, this is the real thing, writing from the point of view of a real veteran and curmudgeon. Klein to me is the ultimate updated, bike-specific Marx brother crashing the party and upsetting society, replete with his pre-21st century bike jersey, hairnet, and circa 1970's folding bike.
    Klein's review although not the only view of the 5BBT, is his own. No-one who was  asked bothered to write another version for this site, which I was only too happy to print. Further to the point, we published before the NY Times, whose review lacked the insider's hilarious edge .
    And in contemplating the point that Klein makes from the very beginning when he lets us know that he rode for free, is it not the point to be able to ride in freedom, as cars do every day? This is the point that cyclists drive home over and over, but can't seem to understand  when it applies to members of their own vehicle class.  Perhaps this is an indicator that those who can pay should, and others who would join but can't afford to, should be invited along, without bestowing shame, and without penalty.
   
Reactions to Steve's Posting:
May 9, 2006:
I loved the Steve Klein review, Jennifer.
Zoe

May 9, 2006
=v= I gotta tell you, this is one of the funniest ride
reports I've read in a long time!  Good work publishing
the talent!
    <_Jym_>

Editor's note: May 11, 2006: There were some, shall we say, less than positive reactions to Klein's review. Those people have declined to have their reactions printed, though for balance, it would be preferable for all opinions to come forward. Perhaps those of you who do not feel so sanguine about his account, could perhaps offer a publishable version of their remarks.

Steve Klein Reviews the 29th Annual Five Boro Bike Tour:
Aka, Tour de Pothole
Steve Klein, seasoned rider, weighs in.
    May 8, 2006--I usually refer to this ride as the Five Boro Crash-A-Thon, but I’ll start on the bright side. The weather was just about ideal, nice and sunny, clear skies, and a bit chilly at about 55 degrees Fahrenheit. This is only one of two yearly events (the other being the Multiple Sclerosis Ride), where New York highways, streets, and roadways are shut down for cyclist-only use.
    I have to come clean from the start: I did not pay to ride this time. After several years of volunteering to marshal the ride, where I had to show up for a 5 a.m. briefing and eat fake bagels and drink bad coffee, and having ridden twice on a tandem with a visually impaired person, I decided this time I would go solo.
    Also, I couldn’t bring myself to pay the $55 day-of fee, because one of the reasons I use a bike is because it’s economical. Also, I am used to the comments about my free train pass (for life) working for the MTA (without a contract mind you), so I don’t mind if people make comments about riding the Five Boro for free. I wore my hairnet circa 1980 that hardly passes as modern day head protection, but they let me by. I met a woman who arrived helmetless, who was required to buy a $25 Schwinn helmet, which would ordinarily cost at least $70 retail, which I thought was a pretty good deal.
    I joined the ride at the north end of Central Park with the marshal vest I had saved from previous years (so go ahead, track me down, see if I care), to eliminate the chance of being held up at 57th St. where the tour is usually stopped periodically for motorists. There the group was thin—many of the V.I.P. riders had pulled off earlier after making their initial photo appearances, and after getting real bagels and pastries and probably gourmet coffee at a special tent (just joking).  I don’t even know if Bloomberg showed up. I remember when Giuliani showed up a few years ago, people booed him—I was one of them.
    We traveled through Haarlem (proper spelling) then over the Madison Ave. Bridge where we came to an abrupt stop: A group of about 100 cyclists were being held by event marshals and New York’s Finest to wait for an NYPD Highway Patrol escort group to arrive. I met a Polish rider who was sporting his national flag from his helmet, and we exchanged a few awkward words during which we realized that neither spoke the other’s language, so it ended rather quickly. 
    After waiting about 15 minutes, we rode in and out of the Bronx in less than two minutes. They certainly dissed the Bronx, and they do this every year. Why couldn’t the organizers make it three miles longer? The marathon is the same thing, in and out of the Bronx in no time at all. We then headed over the Third Ave. Bridge back to Manhattan, then down the Harlem River Drive for a tease of open stretch of road lasting about 3 miles—one of the few reasons I ride this event. The Drive and the Brooklyn Queens Expressway stretch to come are the only open portions of the ride where there are no organized stops or street encumbrances to slow your way, and here you could average about 18 mph.
    We exited the Drive to head over the Feelin’ Groovy Bridge. Remember the Feelin’ Groovy, aka the 59th St. Bridge song by Simon and Garfunkel? “Slow down, you move too fast, got to make the morning last, kicking up the cobblestones,” something, something, and “feeling groovy." Well, the police escort that was so-called ‘setting the pace’, made us crawl up the incline of the bridge at about 5 miles per hour, which made it hard to pedal. On the bridge I met an English bloke on a Bianchi road bike who asked about my Bike Friday, because he was searching for a folding bike. I was surprised to see Jamie Swann, a local frame builder, because he’s a veteran cyclist who was riding one of his nice steel-lugged frames, and I wouldn’t expect him to want to deal with all the hazards of the ride. I also saw Danny Lieberman, founder of ebikes, the electronic exchange, and some marshals along the route that I recognized.
    Right before we entered the bridge, we were warned of an upcoming security checkpoint where they check for your vest and your wristband (which I didn’t have obviously), and a sticker with your number that is supposed to be affixed to your helmet. The security guards who were dressed in dark windbreakers and nicely creased pants, looked more like Secret Service Agents than security personnel at a bike ride. No one stopped me, probably because there are between 25,000 and 35,000 people in the ride, a fact that might make checking every person pretty hard Even when we rode through Long Island City, en route to Astoria Park, it felt like we were averaging 10 mph. I noticed a couple of riders with aero bars, which was really not appropriate, since they can crash and even hurt other people with their bars.
    Once we arrived at Astoria Park, we waited at least 45 minutes to continue, ostensibly because city authorities don’t like to shut down two major roadways at the same time, the Harlem River Drive, and the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. 
    Even though the sun was getting stronger, it was still chilly, and standing for 45 minutes made us feel cold after working up a sweat. Moving again, we headed south towards the Pulaski Bridge. I met a guy riding a nice road bike so I inquired about the make of his frame, and he proudly told me it was a DeRosa steel bike. As we rode over the bridge, I noticed someone had crashed on the very bottom of the Brooklyn side, and it was the guy with the DeRosa.
    In Brooklyn we traveled over some of the worst paved streets in the borough. Going through Williamsburg, we were cheered on by some Hasidic children lining the route. We passed another security checkpoint getting on the BQE, and I still didn’t get caught. On the less than 10-mile stretch there was only a mile of fresh, smooth asphalt. Coming to the Verrazzano, I was reminded that it was the only real climb of the 42-mile ride. Not wanting to endure the long wait for the ferry ride back, I headed straight past the festival where there is food, a live band, t-shirts, and other vendors hawking information and wares. Last year there was a bike museum from Orchard Park that had set up a vintage display with bicycles, but I didn’t feel like looking around for them this time.
    But I had to wait to ride the last two miles as tour leaders held us up another 15 minutes. While we waited I witnessed a woman with a BMC Phonak team issue bike that probably cost a pretty penny arguing with her boyfriend over a flat tire. After failing to fix the tube with a CO2 cartridge, they resorted to a pump. It’s amazing that people with such high end bikes have difficulty making the most basic repairs. After we got going, two seconds later the boyfriend who was riding a Cannondale road bike dropped his chain and had to pull over.
    Although this review comes off quite harshly, the reality is that the 5BBT compares poorly to a similar ride in Montreal called the Tour de L’Ille that takes place in early June.
Not only does the Tour de L’Ille attract about 40,000 people, it also has the Tour de Enfants for children, and a pre-ride held the night before, which is auto-free. Once the ride is started, it is not stopped at all, and you can ride at your own pace for the whole ride. Along the ride are people dressed up in creative outfits playing music, lending the Montreal ride a very festive atmosphere. Residents dress up their houses in bike themes, and the best decoration is given an award. Cyclists who are passing can vote on the best house. Every year, something will make you laugh. Last year, a man on 10-foot stilts rode a tiny bike. And each year, Montreal bike organizers change the route a little which makes it more interesting for repeat riders. 
    Despite cheers from onlookers in Staten Island, there were much fewer New Yorkers lining the roads in appreciation of our city’s ride. Although some people were blasting music out of their windows as we passed, it was nothing like the atmosphere that prevails during the annual NY Marathon. Unfortunately also, the security enforced on the Five Boro may be making the ride a little tiresome for many New Yorkers. 
    Add to the list, the route is the same every year, and organizers never seem to do anything different to spice it up. After 29 years you would think they could come up with something new. But keeping on the bright side, I saw only one crash this time.
Editor's Note: Steve does not own a PC, have email or know how to type (thus the tone of this piece being very similar to his spoken voice). If you want to reach Steve you'll have to wait until I get permission to post his phone number. Hopefully his answering machine is now fixed.
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Despite Scofflaw Phone Users, Some Prefer Bikes
By Richard Rosenthal
   April 6, 2006 --Mindful of there being only three arrests in Brooklyn the other night (April 4, 2006) when Hasidim torched a police car, broke windows, lit bon fires, and surrounded a precinct in response to one of their own being ticketed for driving while speaking on a cell phone--news people referred to it as a riot.
    The Critical Mass cyclists have been not merely ticketed for going through red lights and obstructing traffic, but arrested, handcuffed, finger printed, had their mug shots taken, and jailed in large numbers.           Mindful of there being only three arrests in Brooklyn the other night when a mob of Hasidim torched a police car, broke windows, and lit bon fires in response to one of their own being ticketed for driving while speaking on a cell phone, perhaps the cyclists should ride in long black coats, wear wide brimmed black hats, and grow beards and side curls.
    I truly mean nothing unkind in putting this photo here: these guys were terrific to let me take their picture as they did. This was in Central Park a couple years ago. They did ask that I not include a woman I wanted, and who, herself wanted, to be in the photo.

Richard
RICHARD ROSENTHAL
E: rr@ro-ads.com

Editor's note: The cyclists above presumably don't use cell phones while they ride. It makes an enormous difference for cyclists when motorists don't as well.
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The archived letters have been moved to the Hook-Ups and News Page   so they can be accessed more easily.