Know Your Biker!

A week ago, I was talking to a friend of mine who had just started a new job. She said to me, "You have GOT to meet my new boss, you would love him, he rides his bike everywhere!" "Oh yeah?" I replied, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah! He does these 100 mile rides every weekend, with the whole racing outfit and everything!" My grin then turned to a grimace. I thought to myself, do I really look like the type of guy with that much free time and a voluntary urge to wear spandex?

The truth is, there are many types of riders out there. Different riders have different motives, different techniques and different reasons to be loved or hated. Most riders fall into one of several categories. In New York City, here are the top 9 different types of riders.

1) The Regular Commuter: These are the most noble of riders. They have one goal: Get from point A to point B. Most of these riders take their ride seriously because it is their most common mode of transportation. Therefor most of them follow the etiquette of the road and don't really cause a nuisance. Men and women alike, some are wearing business attire with sneakers to change out of later, and others are just casual normal looking people, just trying to beat the subway. This is me, and hundreds of thousands of other city dwellers. Respect them, because they are worthy of respect.

2) The Hardcore Cyclist: Nobody can be criticized for some good wholesome cardio, but is the outfit really necessary? C'mon, you look ridiculous. I don't go for a run in short shorts, nor do I take batting practice in a full baseball uniform, nor do I shave my legs to go for a swim. Actually, I would never shave my legs but that's besides the point. I honestly wish I had the free time to spend my mornings and weekends riding, but sadly for me I have a job and a social life to maintain. Sorry.

3) The Hispanic Food Delivery Man: Here come the stereotypes! But if you can prove me wrong, I'll shut up. These riders are typically found with plastic bags both covering their seat and also carrying delivery food. They are usually riding an old beat up mountain bike on the wrong side of the road, frequently going the wrong way in a bike lane. Sometimes they are wearing helmets and safety vests with the name of the restaurant (which is now the law) and sometime they are wearing only kitchen attire. Their poor road manners make normal bikers cringe and scream insults, but they ignore it because their speedy arrival promotes higher tips for the hungry awaiting customers.

4) The Asian Food Delivery Man: We've all seen them. The 45-year-old asian man riding an electric bicycle with an awkward baseball cap and a cigarette. I still remember the first time I saw one of these battery powered "bicycles" silently whiz by me. Within the last several years these riders have increased exponentially. Some appear to be delivering food, others seem to be up to no good. Verrry Mysteeeerious. We'll never know.

5) The Messenger: These frequently dreadlocked daredevil defy the logic of bicycle physics. Putting in hundreds of miles a day, these riders perform unlike any other, both in stamina and agility. Squeezing through crevices between busses and wiggling through crowds of people crossing the street, these impressive riders snake their way down the street with graceful form, almost invisible. They intimidate some pedestrians, but if you need to get a role of architectural plans from East 53rd St to Church Street, they are your go-to-guy.

6) The Tourist: These riders are easy to recognize because they are dressed like Europeans, not wearing helmets while slowly and awkwardly swerving around on dumb looking cruiser bikes they rented at Columbus Circle. They frequently have no clue whatsoever where they are going, and they love to get in your way. It's like they do it on purpose.

7) The Pedicabbies: These are the foreigners who take advantage of other foreigners. Ride by them and just listen to the garbage they spew. "I rode by Alec Baldwin yesterday." or "That building is the one from Ghost Busters." Fredereick Law Olmstead would turn over in his grave if he knew his park was infested by such sleazy sleeveless scammers. The only thing that makes horse and carriages worse is the fact that they poop all over the place.

8) The Hipsters: Hipsters are the only reason fixed gear bikes even exists. Maybe it's because fixies are the vinyls of bicycles: inferior yet "authentic." Anyway, these epically rad riders are mostly found in Brooklyn, where style trumps performance. Vintage style bikes line the streets and even the guys have baskets in front. It's weird. But that's why it's cool.

9) The Crazy Non-Bikers: These are riders who get the double takes. You see them mostly in the parks or on the Hudson Greenway. They are riding the recumbent bicycles or even bikes that look like elliptical machines. It makes you wonder what stoned bike shop nut came up with these ideas, yet its impressive performance makes you intrigued and somewhat jealous. Then again, it seems like something you would try once then go back to a regular bicycle.

Then again, maybe you are a mix of several categories. The point is, one type doesn't classify all riders. Some people hate all bikers because they associate all of them with the rule-breaking delivery guys or the wreckless traffic swervers. Some people think all riders are training for the Tour de France because of all the silly spandexed people out there. False associations just make it frustrating for the rest of us who are just trying to get from point A to point B. So the point is, know your biker, ok? Now get out of my way, I have somewhere to go.

Dismount Shishmount

I admit. I'm guilty of it. Not dismounting on certain pedestrian paths. To be fair, I very, very rarely ride on the sidewalk (when I do, I half dismount and coast on one leg and absolutely keep my distance). But for these short connections between bike paths and roads, it's easier to just quickly pedal by. Unless of course, you encounter one of these people...

Central Park Jungle

With great weekend weather comes a stupid amount of people in Central Park. Now of course I can't blame them for being there, as I would encourage everybody to enjoy the great outdoors.  And living in (or visiting) New York City creates the need to escape the debilitating concrete and asphalt frying pan to the great oasis of green in the middle.

Normally, even the densest of crowds tend to manage themselves.  Multiple overlapping frisbee games in the Sheep Meadow somehow work out. Throngs of people walking in all different directions do so without collision. Usually, on those busy days, thousands and thousands of people just seem to exist harmoniously.  Usually.

Within the last 2 hours from writing this entry, I experienced two striking exceptions to the rule. At 2pm I had a double-header softball game in the Great Lawn. While the games were exciting and well played (we won both), the frustration kept building as picnickers, drum circles, soccer dribblers and football throwers continuously ventured into my outfield. That's right, my outfield. Dallas Braden doesn't like it when A-Rod steps on his mound, and I don't like it when some oblivious chump meanders into my realm. And they just don't care, not in the least. No where else do I have kind words of guidance be so ignored and slowly escalate into a screaming tirade of threats. This happens with the following people groups: Spoonfed Manhattan highschoolers in desperate need of haircuts, foreign futbol "stars", parents pushing strollers, cold beverage venders, kids selling packs of M&Ms, eastern Europeaners wandering aimlessly, and the occasional Hasidic Jew.  Only about 10% of people who walk right onto the field actually react and in an appropriate manner when they realize their flaw. The rest just play it cool. They just keep walking. Slowly. Like they own the place. If ever there was a time in my future when I just snap, go berserk, go postal, just lose it completely, it will be in the outfield of field #3 at the Great Lawn. I really hope this doesn't happen, as I would like to think I have a promising future. But why to they tempt me? Why?

The second instance of a crowd gone wrong happened as I was heading home after the game. It was one of the rare times I was walking my bike since I was going south down the crowded north-bound East Drive. I was in no rush as I trying to just take in as much park air as I could. Then in the left corner of my eye up ahead I saw a convergence of people, a scream, arms flailing, and more screams. I jumped on my bike and rode down the hill approaching the scene. When I got close I saw an old man lying still on the ground, blood running from his head in a steady stream along the asphalt. A younger woman was frantically yelling "Dad, Dad, get up! Wake up!" My heart dropped. I looked up at a cyclist with scrapes on his elbows. He looked scared as hell.  Within seconds a nearby Park Ranger was present, attempting to stabilize the situation.  I stayed back, not wanting to crowd the scene but wanting to do everything I could to help. I figured the best I could do was at least position my bike as to divert oncoming pedestrian and bicycle traffic away from the scene.  All I heard were the cries of the daughter, the radio calls, and the interesting commentary of people around me:
"Those bikers just never look where they are going..."
"look at all that blood..."
"Hey what's this crowd of peop...OH MY GOD!"

Medics arrived within a minute or two and police officers began maintaining order. As I stood there, still semi-frozen, I heard a sharp yell directed at me, "Hey get lost!" I looked up to an angry cop trying to clear the scene. I hesitated in response, as I was still partially stunned. "Get the hell out of here, now!" he yelled as I saw he was looking right at me. "I saw what..." I started to explain as he interrupted me "Get out of here now!" Not in the mood for another confrontation, I started to walk away, thinking about what possesses people to be such assholes at times.  After about 10 steps I heard, "Hey, wait" as I looked back and saw a different officer jogging towards me. "You were a witness?" he asked, in a much more polite manner than his counterpart.
"Yeah, I guess, I mean I kind of saw it just as it happened."
"Did you happen to see if the light was green or red?"
"No sorry, I was a bit up the hill, I saw it from pretty far away, sorry I'm not really much help"
"It's OK. Mind if I get your name and number just in case?"
"No problem"
I wrote down my info on his pad and continued on my way, walking my bike until I reached Fifth Ave.

I'll never know who'se fault it was. Bikers, myself included, have a tendency to always keep going, even if it means swerving around people. Especially right there. No biker trekking up hill wants to stop their momentum for a park road traffic light. On the other hand, pedestrians have no clue. They don't have a clue out on the real streets when there are actual cars, let alone in Central Park when most of them aren't even aware they are walking on a road. They have it in their mind that they are in a park and therefor safe from collisions. It's probably a mixture of both, but the outcome is tragic nonetheless. I hope that old man is OK, for his sake, the sake of his daughter, and for the sake of the biker.  He did start to move and moan before I left so hopefully he pulls through.

It's instances like this when we all have to reevaluate our cautions. No convenience is worth a bad accident, not for the biker or the pedestrian. Us bikers need to stop even when pedestrians are wrongfully occupying our path. And pedestrians need to...well pedestrians just need to look where they are going, whether they are crossing a busy avenue, walking on the sidewalk, walking in the park, or walking anywhere. Don't be oblivious. That should go without saying but I guess it needs to be said.

It's also instances like these when they enact knee jerk regulations like biking speed limits or something crazy like that. Be careful out there people, don't hurt yourselves and don't ruin it for the rest of us.