good collar

NYPD going literally out of it's way to ticket a cyclist for no helmet, which is, of course, not illegal.

Manhattan Bridge

Apparently, cyclists are about to have to return to the south side of the bridge, aka, the most unused piece of real estate in NYC. Maybe this is why DOT workers were seemingly recreating a Buster Keaton movie on the bridge last night.

http://www.nyc.gov/html/dot/downloads/pdf/manhattan_bridge_walking_biking.pdf

NYPD (cop almost doors cyclist, then arrests her)

I think one of the more remarkable things about this story is the quote from the arresting officer, more or less claiming that he was doing it for her safety.

Also, notice she doesn't fit into the holy trinity of terrible dangers - she is not lycra clad, nor a delivery guy, or a messenger.

speeding in central park, pt 2

and somehow they still can't get the story straight, or definitively say what the speed limit is.

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703921204576217203961765660.html?mod=WSJ_NY_MIDDLELEADNewsCollection

vs

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/23/nyregion/23cycle.html?ref=nyregion

on the road again....

off to Denver, then driving to Portland, will put up some pics if I get some decent ones.  

Awesome Giro, dvr better get it all.  And the Tour of California. 

NY marathon

This past Sunday, I was given the opportunity to be an escort for a wheelchair racer in the 40th NYC marathon.  I am extremely pleased that I was able to do this.  

Here is some minutiae from the day.  

Woke up early, but not early enough, 6 AM for a 6:50 meetup for the riders to roll over to the start together.  I met up with part of the group ride from Manhattan directly down the hill from my apartment, arriving at 4th ave and Garfield just in time to notice a bunch of familiar kits rolling by, so I hopped on and immediately saw one of my teammates.  Ride down 4th ave was fun, being in a group for a stretch that I am accustomed to doing solo was fun, but I was woefully underdressed and my toes were already getting numb on the cold and drizzly morning.  

Complimentary breakfast in a bag consisted of an apple, a couple of juices, a couple of breakfast bars and an odd bagel and cream cheese fused together into a bar kind of concoction. I am certainly not averse to lesser quality pastry, and am in fact eating a Boston Cream Chocolate Glazed Honey Bun at this very minute, but this was just a bit odd.  Good, but odd. Oh, and boxes upon boxes of coffee.  Not bad, fairly generous actually.  Then it was into the hospital waiting room for a restroom, where I mastered the art of peeing without full bib removal.  

I am totally sold on Fizik saddles and bib shorts.  First time using either, and was a little bit of heaven.

We were to meet our riders as they came off the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, at speed.  Two riders were assigned to each racer, the idea being that we would be in front and to the side of the racer, one on each curb, and far enough in front to blow a whistle and make sure the path was clear.  My guy spent all day in a group of 4 (whittled down to 3 by the time we got to the Bronx), so we had 8 riders out front for almost the entirety of the ride.  We communicated well, had a moment early on where the racers caught us and that was a little wake up call, they can gun it pretty good on flats and descents and really catch up quick, which is to be avoided.  Other than that it was all seamless, and a nice ride through empty streets.  A little bit the opposite of what I was expecting in that crowds in the city were out pretty early and very vocal and supportive, but once we got to Central Park it was as if noone knew there was a race going on, and it became a bit of work to get people out of the way.  

My guy finished somewhere between 3rd and 6th, and needless to say, I was mightily impressed by the effort of them all, unbelievable is an understatement.  

And then I biked my very full bladder home, got stuck (ironically?) not being able to cross 4th ave to get to my place because of the marathon and needed a cop to remind me that I could cross the street underground. 

For marathon map and results, click here.

And, in other news:

The Knicks host the lowly Pacers tonight, who bring an anemic offense and a pretty poor defense to MSG tonight to try and gift the Knicks a second win against a bad team. (Yes, I know, technically NO isn't supposed to be bad, but they look terrible this season so far, and were suspect at the end of last season.)  Troy Murphy may sit this one out with a lower back injury, rookie ex-Tarheel Tyler Hansbrough is definitely out, as is Jeff Foster.  Granger is listed as day to day but will probably play.  For the Knicks, Nate is out, Jeffries is day to day (limiting their ability to have him foist more bad 3's and showcase his offensive incompetence), and Darko is day to day (limiting their ability to try and pretend that he "shores up the defense.")  I'll take the Knicks by a score of 111-101.  

I'll thankfully be spared watching the entire game and will catch it "in 60," just a great, great program that somehow makes Clyde even more entertaining.  I'll miss it because my own bball team will be in action, trying to improve on our 1-5 mark against the league's only unbeaten.  Now, I would never bet on the outcome of my own game, no way, that might keep me out of the hall, but if I were a betting man....I'm having a very Galinari type year, which has made me realize that while I may not believe in junk miles, I certainly do believe in junk baskets. 

Promises in the Dark

I think the history of concerts I have seen that I haven't enjoyed, if graphed, would correspond rather perfectly with concerts that I have attended without imbibing or partaking of other substances.  This also corresponds for the most part with concerts that I have biked to and from, as I generally try to avoid combining pedaling and altering of consciousness, or reflexes, or judgement.  I didn't always feel this way, but 30 stitches to the head made me realize that, well, I didn't like getting 30 stitches in the head.  The lack of health insurance at that time was painful as well, but not quite as painful as listening to some of the town hall meetings this week regarding public heath care.  One of the many, many things I love about getting around by bike is the way my thought process seems unhitched while the wheels are rolling.  It's like playtime for my brain, and any thoughts are welcome.  I also fully enjoy, (and after having done it for as long as I have, have come to be able to predict and expect), the seesaw of euphoria to doldrums that comes, probably all chemical balance/nutrition-related.  The first of these fake highs on Thursday's post-work ride to Coney Island came close to the end of the ride, almost immediately after crossing Ocean Parkway.  Yes, I live on the other side of the park, but my wife and a couple of friends were going to see the Pat Benatar/Blondie double bill that had all of NYC talking, mainly asking who in their right mind would go to Coney Island to see a Pat Benatar/Blondie double bill.  I have a love/hate relationships with "greenways" in general.  Love them in theory but almost always prefer a well paved road to a cracked sidewalk with curbs on every corner and associated turns for cars.  That was my memory of the path to Coney Island, so I decided to try a side street and see if I could just be parallel to the path.  This brilliant idea went nowhere except in a big circle leading me straight back to the greenway, so I relented, and this is where the happiness came.  It was nice!  They had fixed it up!  Smooth sailing, and noone was on it!  It was so nice in fact that I had almost decided it was worth it to come this way to Floyd rather than bombing down Flatbush, had almost decided that when the nice new pavement ended and it was back to an organ mashing craterfest.  I just tried to hold the wheel of crazy mountain bike guy in front of me to distract me from the non-chamois wearing pain I was experiencing in the nether regions.  

I was mocking the lack of foot traffic as I approached Avenue X, "yeah, some concert.."  I would eat those words when I got there, and looked around for a place to lock up my bike.  There was a distinct 80's style guitar sound emanating from the stage where The Donnas were "rocking out,"  playing songs from the hopefully ironically title "Greatest Hits" album.  Actually they weren't bad, and the place was packed.  Like mobbed packed.  I couldn't find my friends for a long long time, and it took even longer to find my wife who had arrived much earlier.  Sprint sucks, no service at all, or maybe it was Verizon sabotaging them since they had a tent set up to sign people up.  My wife finally found us and had narrowly escaped a close encounter with a few middle aged woman who were very much encroaching on her space and telling the people in front of her to sit down.  Again, my head voice was mocking the concert.  And what was with the lack of smoke?  The stage looked like the Denver airport.  Finally, Pat Benatar came on and, I think, for the most part looked and sounded like I remembered.  Keep in mind that being the old fogey that I am, I remember the 80's vividly, and Pat Benatar is not necessarily a fond memory.  There is no kitsch value in it for me, she was a purveyor of bad pop, and that was all, and I had to sit through her videos in the early days of MTV over and over and over again. That said, she looked and sounded like I remembered, certainly not bad for a 56 year old woman (from Greenpoint!!!, nee Patricia Mae Andrzejewski), and she did all the hits, and yes, I actually enjoyed them, especially the crowd singing along with "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."  Being out of the crowd was nice, and the boardwalk was very nice, and thankfully the appropriate smells finally wafted our way.  It was officially a concert now.  We didn't wait for Blondie, but there is a cycling connection.  Her guitar player is Paul Carbonara, a local racer, much more representative for me and cycling in the city than David Byrne, whom I love musically, but am not convinced I really want as a spokesman for cycling in NYC.  I was hungry and didn't get to see Paul, whom I actually think, even being the jazz snob I am, is a good guitarist, and who I was more interested in than the not so interested in Deborah Harry, who is now 64 years old!  So, to recap, couldn't make it to the end of a concert featuring a 56 year old and a 64 year old. 

I stayed on Ocean Pkwy the whole way home, again opting for street over path.  It was nice, and dark, and pleasant, even if the cars turning right off the main parkway almost killed me several times.  Eventually, after what seemed like many more than 26 lettered Avenues, I arrived back to the cozy confines of the Park, but eschewed it for a street in order to find a store, pasta sauce, and beer. The rest of the night was "Bringing up Baby," with food, and beer, and cat, and my lovely wife, who, as it turns out with most things, is right, I don't party anymore.  

argument redux/bike recovery

Time for the monthly comment battle:

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/08/11/four-years-after-crash-a-cyclist-paves-a-legacy/

And then there was this:

Is there anything Facebook can't do? A Park Slope family has now used the social networking site to track down an adolescent bicycle thief. Beth Harpaz, an AP reporter and author of The Girls in the Van: Covering Hillary, says a local teenused the oldest trick in the book to separate her 11-year-old son from his new BMX at the playground: He asked to "see your bike for a minute," then never rode back. (The trick even works on adults!) Harpaz tried filing a police report, but a beat cop discouraged her, saying, "If you file a police report, we'll have to arrest him. Just wait a few days. You'll get the bike back." And the policeman was right—though the BMX wasn't recovered thanks to NYPD detective work, but through Harpaz's dogged sleuthing. Long story short, some kids at the playground knew the suspect's first name and the Middle School from which he'd graduated, so Harpaz obtained a copy of the yearbook, identified him, and tracked him down on Facebook. After threatening to have him arrested, the unidentified thief revealed the bike's location, along with the combination for the lock. He also asked Harpaz, "Where do u live at?" but Harpaz knew better than to let him see her house for a minute.

Now, the oddest part of this story for me is the policeman commenting that they would get the bike back.  One thing that bothers me about bike theft is the police attitude that there is no way in hell you will ever see it again.  

Julie and Julia

streep and tucci/julia's life in paris vs 2 really annoying bad actors in long island city blogging about themselves and how julia changed their life. i think it's rare to root against the central character and author of the book, and i don't think nora ephron intended it that way, but god i was so disappointed that her stupid blog brought her fame and fortune. 

Then watched "The Flying Scotsman," very fun,. 

rapha, oh dear god

so disgusting, this makes me want to upgrade and kick some rapha tail

Rapha Racing New York City is a group of like-minded cyclists, all drawn by the same desire to ride the legs off our friends, then laugh about it over coffee and bagels or a couple beers before going back to our families. Rapha Racing is for those of us who force a cycling lifestyle upon a city that would rather say otherwise. Rapha Racing is the triumph of our cycling addiction over our urban realities.

today's daily dumb

holy crap! dumb keeps getting dumber and dumber. and including a pic of a drunk driver hitting people involved in a road race is pretty damn ironic. quick quiz - who is at fault there? http://theutterance.blogspot.com/2009/05/other-day-i-was-driving-along-skinny.html

daily dose of dumb

I especially love "rolltide" near the bottom.  I know I should let these things go, but I can't fucking believe these people, and it makes me sick every time I read this shit of bikes being more hazardous than cars?  What planet are they on?

http://gothamist.com/2009/06/03/video_cops_ticket_more_critical_mas.php#comments

T shirts for sale!

Place your orders now! and taking design suggestions!!

First one reads - "You all drive like fucking idiots!"