A post from the past

In my previous post, I included an excerpt from the Tradition, South Carolina Web site, which described the new development as having drawn inspiration from "charming communities of days-gone-by." Included among the traits of these supposedly extinct places are:

1. A living arrangement that allows residents to walk or bike to stores and restaurants.
2. Front porches, from which residents may greet "passing neighbors."
3. Parks and playgrounds.

The image you see in this post was made in my front yard on Saturday evening and satisfies two of the characteristics described above. First, the five bikes in the yard were ridden to Queeny's just moments after I snapped the photo. Check. Second, front porches are visible in the picture. Check. I'm certain that more than one "passing neighbor" passed by before we departed for Queeny's and I'm equally sure they were greeted by at least one person in our dinner party. Check and check. You'll have to take my word for it, but there are three small parks and one large one with a playground within a four block radius. That takes care of No. 3.

Based on this indisputable evidence, I've come to the conclusion that for the last five years, I've been living in a community of days-gone-by. Quick, someone send me a golf cart cart so I can get with the times.

Adventures in nomenclature

Ridiculous subdivision names have long been a source of amusement for me. There are plenty of subdivision name generators on the Internet, but my favorite is located on the Denver Infill Blog. While it's fun to poke fun, there is truth to the adage that suburban housing developments are often named for what they destroy or degrade. If a subdivision has the word "woods," "forest" or "meadow" in it, that's a good clue to what used to be in the land before it was cleared and replanted with McMansions.

In my part of the world, subdivision names are trending away from natural themes toward words that describe social or cultural situations, often coated in a sweet nostalgic glaze. For example, across the river in South Carolina we find a new "town" called "Tradition." According to its Web site, Tradition "will take its inspiration from those charming communities of days-gone-by." What made these mythical places so charming? Well, Tradition's copywriters reveal that these communities existed in a long ago age...

when you could walk or bike to the store or your favorite restaurant. When every neighborhood had its own parks and playgrounds. When homes had front porches from which you could gaze out onto your little corner of the world and say 'hi' to your passing neighbors.

In other words, Tradition will offer the kind of living arrangement that was standard issue in most of the United States before people abandoned these communities for outlying suburban housing. To be fair, Tradition's mixed use development and walkable streets are a drastic improvement over the suburban residential schemes of the previous decades.

Despite it's new urbanist leanings, Tradition's residents (Traditionalists?) will still be spending plenty of time on Interstate 95 and Highway 278 in transit to their jobs and the rest of the world that exists beyond Tradition's "town limits." And even though mention is made of residents bicycling to the store or a favorite restaurant, planners are taking steps to make sure a different sort of vehicle will become more common than bicycles on Tradition's streets:

To reduce the need for cars on the streets even further, Tradition South Carolina will provide every home with an electric golf cart…the perfect in-town “get around” that’s convenient, clean and quiet.

Why not provide every home with utility bicycles? Certainly would be cheaper. And, to my way of thinking, the bicycle is the rightful owner of the "perfect in-town get around" title.

But let's get back to naming subdivisions. This morning my television set brought me news of a new subdivision called "The Gates," which is — you guessed it — a gated community. I'm hoping this refreshing and frank approach to subdivision naming will be adopted by others. I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for full page ads in the newspaper real estate section promoting "The Sprawl at Southbridge," "Commuters' Bluff," and "Carport Cove." Wow! This is fun. Anyone else care to give it a try? Feel free to leave your proposed subdivision names in the comments section.

Three out of 50 is not that bad

I'm pleased to announce that there are now three dedicated bicycle commuters working in my building. I've seen their bikes locked up outside, but today is the first time we all arrived at work at exactly the same time. I pulled up to the bike rack about two minutes after Jennifer (she passed me about a half mile from work). Less than a minute later, Hon wheeled up. Around 50 people work in my building, but three bicycle commuters isn't bad for a city in which people routinely drive for any trip of two blocks or more.

Riding for no reason

I engaged in an unusual (at least for me) session of recreational bicycling yesterday. I simply went for a ride, without a destination in mind. I wandered south on Harmon Street to the Calvary Temple and Day School compound, which contains a dozen or so buildings. I penetrated the compound through a construction entrance on the north side of the property, hoping to cut through to 63rd Street. However, my intended exit on the opposite side was blocked by a locked gate. Indeed, the whole campus is surrounded by spiky metal fencing. I'm not sure who this "joyful Southern Baptist Fellowship" is trying to keep out of its "Christ-centered learning experience." Methodists? Jihadists? Cyclists? I'm don't know, but it's clear they are serious about security. I took a photo of "Building D" and then pedaled back the way I came.

New York City boasts the Garment District and the Diamond District. I'll call Savannah's answer, which I next entered, the HMO District. Situated between two hospital campuses, the area is a commercial monoculture. Here we find medical labs, pharmacies, doctors' offices and little else. Many of the restaurants in the area close after lunch. I think the Cantonese Chef has longer hours than most, but it was closed when I took a photo through the window. At night and on weekends, there are very few humans on the scene. On a Sunday afternoon, I felt like I was pedaling though a scene from "The Omega Man," except without the homicidal mutants.
I crossed Waters Avenue and entered the South Garden neighborhood, home to 186 households, two churches and one automobile window tinting and detail joint. According the 2004 edition of "Neighborhood Demographic Profiles," published by the City of Savannah, the average South Garden home value is $63,260. With property values like that, it seems certain that the neighborhood will be eroded by hospital expansion pushing southward.

Memorial Health University Medical Center is exactly where I headed next. The campus is bounded on the east by the Casey Canal and the Truman Parkway beyond. I slipped through a gap in the fence and pedaled north along the canal bank. Taking a cue from Planetary Gears, in which our narrator chronicles exploratory rides and photographs his bicycle posed along the way, I made some pictures of my bike next to the canal. And a couple ducks. Also presenting themselves for viewing were egrets, hefty aquatic turtles and a large red-tailed hawk. Savannahians are fond of throwing trash into storm sewer catch basins and out of automobile windows, so I saw plenty of styrofoam cups as well.


I'm told there are plans to convert the route I followed into a real bikeway, which would connect Daffin and Lake Mayer parks. Unlike the other bike trails in the area, this one would actually have some transportational value. I'm not sure how the "Truman Linear Park Trail" will contend with the intersections it will cross. When I reached 52nd Street I had to scramble up a steep embankment, dragging the bike behind me. Then I had to cross the on ramp of the Truman Parkway. Instead of continuing on along the canal, I decided to head west on 52nd Street, which is a strong candidate for Savannah's worst designated bicycle route. But more about that and the rest of my ride in a future post.

Winter is over

I know this because on the way to work today I encountered a very brown, very dry, very dead Christmas tree in the middle of the Lincoln Street bike lane.

Abnormal behavior

If you spend enough time reading bicycle-related blogs or talking with bicycle-related people, you may unknowingly slip into a magical fantasy land. You may actually come to believe that riding to work or the store is "normal."

Yesterday I was talking about blogs with a newspaper reporter. Rather than attempt to explain the concept of utility cycling, I described Bike Year as being mostly about bicycle commuting. His response:

"You can do that in Savannah?"

Worth the walk

I noticed this Associated Press story in the newspaper today. Maybe it was published in your daily paper, too. It describes a university study that looked at ways to motivate older Americans to walk. The answer, it seems, is to give them a destination. A snip:

The benefits of walking and being active are well-known, especially for older people, but what kind of neighborhood gets seniors going?It's not necessarily one with lots of walking trails or parks. What matters, researchers found, are the destinations such as restaurants, grocery stores and even bars that are within a half-mile of your home.

I don't yet qualify as an "older person," but my motivation to become a utility cyclist was also directly tied to destinations. The library, the supermarket, the video store, the office — having a destination gave me a purpose. It made me feel better not to be riding around aimlessly.

What if the destination is a locally-owned seafood restaurant? Is this the kind of destination that might lure older people and not-so-older people out of their houses for a stroll? Is this the kind of destination that a community should encourage, if it wants lively streets and active and healthy citizens? I'd say yes. Others say no.

For a number of years, I lived directly across the street from Mrs. Wilkes' Dining Room, surely one of the most famous and beloved of all Savannah restaurants. In Mrs. Wilkes' obituary, then-Savannah Mayor Floyd Adams was quoted: "Hopefully, her legend continues through her restaurant and family. She has brought international attention to the community and we thank her for that." Paula Deen called her a pioneer "for women in the restaurant business."

But let's imagine that Mrs. Wilkes was still living and decided to open a restaurant at 107 W. Jones St. in 2007, instead of 1947. Would she receive the enthusiastic support of local politicians? Would people call her a pioneer? I think she'd be called lots of things, but pioneer probably wouldn't be one of them.

I understand controversy over the seafood restaurant on 40th street centers on allegations that the owner agreed not to allow inside dining, but then subsequently installed tables anyway. Still, why should he have been made to agree to such a concession in the first place? What difference does it make whether customers eat inside the restaurant or order their food to go? The real question is this: Is a seafood restaurant, owned by a family that's operated a fish market in Savannah since 1946, a disruptive commercial intrusion that damages the residential character of a neighborhood? Or is it an amenity that makes a nice destination for a walk?

Photo: Stephen Berend, Savannah Morning News

Product Review: J&G Cyclewear Rain Cape

As promised, here's a review of the J&G Cyclewear rain cape. As mentioned in the last post, the cape is incredibly light. I'll skip further explanation the product, as it is described in detail here.

So how did it work? I must report that I was wet and cold when I got home. This does not, however, diminish my esteem for this product. For two reasons:

First, let's just say that I picked the ideal conditions to test this thing. On Feb. 1 Savannah received 1.20 inches of rain and I think most of it fell during my ride home. Not only was I hit by rain from above, plenty of water was splashing up from below. The streets were subject to significant "ponding," as our local weather forecasters like to say. In some places, such as the intersection of Habersham Street and Victory Drive, the water was up to my bike's rims. I'm running 26 x 2.1 Continental Town & Country tires, so there's quite a bit of rubber between my rims and the road. I don't think I would have remained dry if I'd ridden home vacuum sealed in a Space Bag.

Second, part of my moisture control problem was surely due to user error. The cape has fabric loops underneath. The idea is to grasp the loops and position your hands on the handlebars so that the cape forms an awning over your legs. About halfway home I discovered that slightly repositioning my hands provided more coverage. The cape does not have a hood. And that's good. Proper adjustment at the neck would kept my shoulders and back drier. It can be adjusted at the waist, which I also neglected. A gust of wind exposed my backside momentarily. I won't let that happen again.

Another cool thing about the cape is that it is supposedly made in Oregon, which probably makes it the only non-food item I've ever owned that was manufactured in that state.

Perhaps I'll post a review after I've used the cape during a more typical rainstorm. At any rate, I can say that it performed well enough to receive my enthusiastic endorsement. Whatever that's worth.

Product review preview

It was cloudy when I commuted to work this morning, but it wasn't raining. Now I'm getting ready to head home and it's pouring. This is great news for me because yesterday's mail contained a J&G Cyclewear Rain Cape, a gift from a very thoughtful person.

My first impression of the garment is that it is much lighter than I expected. It arrived not in a box, but a regular mylar envelope. I wasn't expecting it to be as heavy as a truck tarp or anything. Still, it's very light, which will be beneficial this summer when it's rainy and hot.

I'll post a full review sometime after my rainy ride home. Stay tuned.

A bike lane inventory: audio edition

These are the sounds I heard today in the bike lane:

• Wind.
• Wind chimes.
• A construction worker singing "Cat's in the Cradle" at the top of his lungs.
• Birds singing at the tops of their lungs (song unknown).
  
• Engine noise as cars rapidly accelerated from stop signs at one side of the block. Brake noise as cars rapidly decelerated for stops signs at the other end of the same block.
• The whine of a circular saw.
  
• The click of my bike's freewheel.

A bike lane inventory

Objects I saw today in the bike lane:

• Lots of palm fronds. It was windy on Sunday night.
• Two men's dress shoes. Not a pair of shoes, but two different shoes apparently separated from their mates and now traveling together.
• One half of a reddish-brown leatherette steering wheel cover. From a distance I thought it was one half of a reddish-brown snake.
• A white undershirt.
• Two wrong-way cyclists.
• One cyclist traveling the correct direction.
• Three pedestrians.

I'm pleased to report that I didn't see any cars or trucks in the bike lane today.

Location, location, location

A Savannah Morning News story from earlier this month reported a local bike shop's move from one area of downtown Savannah to another. The Bicycle Link, owned by John Skiljan, is an absolutely vital part of the city core. It's the sole source of bikes, parts and – perhaps most importantly – service in an area that surely has higher per capital bicycle use than any other part of the city. Skiljan and his staff are an indispensable resource for Savannahians, who depend on their bikes for everyday transportation. Without the Bicycle Link, parts and service for many transportational and utility cyclists would be a long bus or taxi ride away. This is one important bike shop.

But back to the newspaper story. Reporter Chuck Mobley sites a number of factors that contributed to the Bicycle Link's departure from Broughton Street for Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. This portion of his story, caught my attention:

Broughton has become too congested, and businesses and shoppers soon will begin to seek less-congested venues.

The congestion described above actually makes Broughton Street one of my favorite places to ride a bike. Cars move pretty slowly on Broughton Street and that means I can take the lane and travel at the same speed as they do. I've talked with some cyclists who fear Broughton Street because of the traffic volume. I think they make a critical mistake in their evaluation. I'll gladly take a street full of cars traveling at 15 mph over a street with less motor vehicle traffic traveling at higher speeds. I say, bring on the congestion!

Plus, shouldn't congestion be seen a good thing, especially from a retail perspective? Couldn't a commercial district labeled as "congested" also described as "bustling," "lively" or "popular?" I would use all those words to describe Broughton Street. In doing so, however, I fail to decode the true meaning of congestion. In this context, congestion means lack of parking. Like so many other things, even the location of a bicycle shop is dictated largely by the availability of free (or undervalued) surface parking.

It should be easier for motorists to find places store their cars at the new location, but sadly Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard is decidedly less hospitable to cyclists than than the two lane Broughton Street. MLK's four lanes are populated not just with local traffic, but with vehicles, including large trucks, discharged onto the street from the Interstate. And they are often moving at high speeds. This is mentioned in the article:

408-410 MLK is also next to I-16, making it convenient for cyclists to shop there as they head in and out of the city, said Skiljan, an Effingham County resident.

I take issue with this use of the word "cyclists." When I drive my car to Star Bike Shop on Montgomery Crossroad, I'm not a cyclist. Neither is anyone who uses I -16 to reach the Bicycle Link. We are motorists, not cyclists. Motorists entering Savannah from remote sectors in the universe of sprawl to the west of Savannah may become cyclists when they park their cars, but on the way to and from the shop they are simply part of the torrent of motor vehicles that makes MLK uninviting for cyclists who are, well, cycling.

Skiljan is right, however, in his suggestion that the new store will be accessible to some cyclists:

And it also puts Skiljan close to an important segment of his business - Savannah College of Art and Design students. "The college is a big deal for us," Skiljan said, "a lot of them don't have any transportation except for their bicycles, and almost all their dorms are on the west side of town."

Students who live in SCAD's Weston, Dyson, Turner and Boundary residence halls had to cross MLK to reach the store on Broughton Street anyway, so the new location is indeed a good thing for them. Still, it seems sort of sad that the only people who are expected to turn up at a bike shop on bicycles are those who have no other choice.

Backpedalling

Andre makes an important point in his comment on yesterday's post. Just because I've never seen police stop a black man on a bike, doesn't mean it isn't happening in Savannah every single day.

My commute is topographically flat, but it's a demographic roller coaster. On my way to work I pass mansions and tumble-down boarding houses. I ride through neighborhoods that are majority African American (like the city of Savannah as a whole) and neighborhoods that are nearly 100 percent white.

Still, I'm seeing only a narrow slice of Savannah, both geographically and chronologically. This morning I did not see cops hassling black cyclists in Chatham Crescent or Thomas Square, but doesn't mean it wasn't happening at that very same moment in Liberty City or Pine Gardens. I don't usually ride my bike late at night, so I may be unaware of a completely different police enforcement posture that's adopted while my bicycle is asleep in the shed. Also affecting my perception of the situation is my status as a beneficiary of white privilege.

It seems to me that enforcement of bicycle ordinances ought to be the responsibility of the Savannah Chatham Metropolitan Police Department's traffic division. After all, bikes are vehicles. If the vehicle is being used in an unsafe and illegal manner that endangers its operator, operators of other vehicles and pedestrians, shouldn't the police intervene? Then again, since enforcement of bicycle ordinances is sporadic, it would be naive to believe that traffic safety is the primary motivation when police officers decide to stop someone riding against traffic or without lights.

Race, poverty and tail lights

A recent high profile murder trial has Savannah Morning News readers writing letters to the editor about race and class divides. This morning's paper featured a letter from Romell Bryant-Mitchell titled "Poverty, not race, biggest social problem." It contained this interesting observation:

I have seen black men stopped because there was no tail light on their bicycles, but I have seen white men pass officers with no tail light and no one even blinks.

I agree with Bryant-Mitchell. Sort of. I have never seen a police officer stop a white man on a bicycle. For any reason. But then again, I have never seen a police officer stop a black man on a bicycle. For any reason. My observations tell me that Savannah's men, women, girls and boys are free to ride against traffic, run stop signs, disregard traffic signals and transport passengers on their handlebars in full view of law enforcement personnel. Want to travel at night without lights or reflectors of any kind? Terrific.

There are two exceptions to this cycling amnesty policy.
First, if you are hit by a car while operating a bicycle in an unsafe and unlawful fashion, you may receive a traffic citation. But not always. In October, a cyclist found himself underneath an SUV after he blew a stop sign. But he didn't get a ticket. From a Savannah Morning News story:

Officers investigated the crash and found the bicyclist was at fault because he didn't stop at the stop sign. However, police do not plan to charge him, Wilson said.

"Usually the purpose of giving citations is to get people's attention. It serves as a means of compliance to the laws," Wilson said. "In traffic collisions involving pedestrians or cyclists, it usually only takes one incident of that magnitude to ensure future compliance."

The second exception, as mentioned in an earlier post, involves local college students who are sometimes popped with $100 fines for riding on sidewalks.

Why should I care? I guess I shouldn't. Only I can't help but think that the lawlessness of many cyclists fuels anti-bicycle sentiments in the general population.

The tentative utility cyclist gift guide: Fenders

When I drive, I don't wear any automobile-specific clothing. No flame retardant racing suit. No driving moccasins. And since Bike Year was conceived as an attempt to replace car trips with bike trips, I don't wear any bicycle-specific clothing either. No tights. No jersey. The clothes I wear at the office and in the supermarket are the same clothes I wore on the way there on my bike.

That's why fenders are important to me. They keep what's on the road from being on me, which is helpful since I don't make a costume change once I arrive at my destination. Unfortunately, fenders don't come standard on many bikes these days. Fortunately, almost any bike can be retrofitted with them. Plus, I think bikes look almost naked without fenders.

I've tried two varieties of after-market fenders. First I bought Planet Bike Freddy Fenders. Then I tried Zefal CAB fenders. Then I went back to the Freddy Fenders. The main advantage of the Freddy Fenders is their adjustability for different frame sizes and geometries.

Planet Bike even makes a fender for bikes that lack the eyelets for mounting fenders, called the SpeedEZ. One word of warning about these, however. When you unpack the fenders, throw away the rubber straps that are used to mount the fenders to the forks and seat stays. Use some zip ties instead. The rubber straps on my fenders began cracking after 30 days and had completely deteriorated within 60.

If you can't get with the plastic fenders, check out these beautiful things.

The tentative utlity cyclist gift guide: Where to buy

In response to my Nashbar-centric rack and pannier recommendation, Jim pointed out that you're more likely to talk to living person and maybe even the owner of the joint when you call a smaller outfit. And he's right. If I had remained on hold with Nashbar to learn the fate of the LDT rack, how much information could the operator have provided? Would he or she be able to talk knowingly about factory retooling in Guangdong Province or whatever it is that's disrupted the supply chain? Probably not.

In my defense, I aimed to provide suggestions that would get folks into utility cycling on the cheap. Nevertheless, I understand the arguments against spending money at a big national mail order house. If you are fond of your community and wish it to prosper, it makes sense to trade at a locally-owned bike shop. Your dollars will hang around instead of splitting town. Plus, this late in the holiday shopping game, it's probably easier to walk into a brick and mortar store instead of praying that the UPS delivery bicycle will pull up in front of the house with your gifts by Friday.

Unfortunately, at many local shops, bicycles are regarded as toys, exercise equipment or sporting goods — not vehicles. It's the nature of the business, I'm told. The real profit is in expensive bicycles with polonium frames, 802.11g wireless derailleurs and tires no wider than a human hair. While they must be good for something, these light, fast and expensive machines make lousy utility cycles. A dealer whose bottom line depends on moving high dollar machines isn't going to devote much floorspace to utility cycling accessories. If a customer drops $2,000 on a bicycle, better to have a boxes of $400 cycling shoes nearby rather than $20 panniers.

I'm lucky that the folks at my LBS understand that I use my bikes to haul groceries and commute to work. If you're not so lucky and can't spend your money at home, consider sending it to Minneapolis or West Newton.

The tentative utility cyclist gift guide: Rear rack and panniers

I could be wrong, but the ability to safely transport cargo is what separates the utility bicycles from, well, the bicycles. Sure, people can carry cargo in backpacks or messenger bags, but that would make them utility humans. Their bikes would remain bikes.

I see a lot of bikes around town equipped with rear racks. I don't see much carried on these racks, however, because a rear rack by itself is of limited usefulness, unless your tentative utility cyclist has a pocket full of bungee cords handy. Mating a rear rack with panniers drastically increases its capacity to haul stuff. But first things first.

There are some really amazing racks out there, but for a person just starting out in the exciting world of utility cycling, I would enthusiastically recommend the Nashbar LDT Rack. Only problem is, I just checked and it seems to have disappeared from the Nashbar Web site. Not wanting to disappoint you and the tentative utility cyclist on your shopping list, I called Nashbar to find out if LDT was gone for good. After about five minutes on hold, I gave up and that's why I hesitantly recommend the Bor Yeuh Urban Rear Rack, currently on sale for $12.99. I selected this rack because of its low price and the fact that it is fully adjustable and should fit a wide variety of aspiring utility bicycles. Also, the words Bor Yeuh sound tantalizingly exotic.

If your cyclist's bicycle does not have fittings designed for accepting the rack, here's the workaround: March into your local hardware store and ask for some insulated "P clamps." With the proper sized clamps, the rack will be secure.

Now you'll need panniers. How do you pronounce "panniers"? I have no idea, so I try not to say the word out loud. There is really beautiful bicycle luggage out there, but for a new utility cyclist, you can't go wrong with the Nashbar Townie Basket. As I type this, they are priced to move at $ 16.99 each. My townies have served me well over the last 18 months. They fold flat against the bike when not in use. The Townie does not feature a carrying strap or an internal frame, like some of the more expensive grocery bag panniers. Still the Townie has a hidden feature that's apparently too secret for Nashbar to publicly reveal: the hi-vis yellow rain hood that stuffs into a zippered compartment on the bottom of the pannier when not in use. Neat!

There is one design flaw to mention. The zippers of the rain cover pouches mentioned above are on the wheel-side of the panniers. This allows the zipper pulls to make contacts with the spokes. The pulls are not long enough to become fully involved in the spokes, but the sound is kind of annoying. Luckily, the situation is easily remedied by tucking the zipper pulls back into the pouch.

I welcome any comments from others who have used these products. Did they work for you? Do you have alternatives to recommend?

Gifts for the tentative utility cyclist

Has reading this blog inspired you to try utility cycling? I didn't think so. But humor me and pretend you've entertained the idea of using a bicycle for short errands and trips that currently put you behind the wheel.

Too far fetched?

OK. Try this: Imagine a family member, friend, coworker, or someone you saw on TV, who dreams about leaving the car in the driveway. Could this person be looking to get a little exercise without having to pay for a health club membership? Maybe he or she is troubled by the idea of financing both sides in the "War on Terror." Perhaps this person simply wants to become less car dependent. Does that make it easier? Good. I thought it might.

Next, let's imagine he or she already owns a bicycle that could be used as a utility cycle. It could be a mountain bike, a road bike or even a beach cruiser. It's your choice. Are you picturing the bike? Excellent. What color is it? Red? Mine too!

But now we have a problem. No matter what kind of bicycle you've chosen to imagine, it's probably like most bicycles sold in U. S. and A, in that it's not equipped for utility cycling. Since it has no lights, it cannot be legally ridden at night (at least not in my state). It cannot transport cargo, unless you count plastic shopping bags hung from the handlebars (I don't). In wet weather, its tires will spray the rider, fore and aft, with an undiluted coating of road grime (Good luck getting out those stains).

So how can this bike, designed for recreational rides on scenic thoroughfares, be transformed to perform practical purposes on city streets? We need a holiday miracle! This sounds like a job for Santa Claus you!

In the coming days, this blog will feature items I've used over the last 18 months in my utility cycling endeavors. You may consider them road tested and Bike Year approved. There's plenty of wonderful cycling gear out there, some of it handcrafted to last a lifetime. With this kind of equipment, utility cycling can be efficient, stylish and fun. Maybe even a little addictive.

But let's ease into this thing, shall we? Better to make sure your cyclist catches the bug before you spend bike-loads of bread on gifts that could wind up on eBay by March. If he or she is still at it by this time next year, it's probably safe to give the really nice stuff. Maybe next year I'll present "Gifts for the committed utility cyclist." But for now, we'll explore some of the more affordable, but still viable, utility cycling products. Stay tuned for tomorrow's exciting episode: "Rear Rack and Panniers."

Photo credit: MSU Bike Project

Scenes from my commute (Part 1)

Here's a photo from my morning commute route. It's 46th Street between Atlantic Avenue and Habersham Street. The fall color is provided by the sweetgum trees. The live oaks don't participate in autumn (but they do tend to eject lots of leaves in spring).

Where the 'P' stands for pedals

Via Bicycle Fixation, here's a story from "Vermont's Alternative Web Weekly" about the Burlington UPS distribution center using trailer-equipped bicycles to make deliveries in "in flatter sections of towns." There are interesting angles in this story.

First, the Bicycle Fixation gang suggests that UPS is, in a way, returning to its two-wheeled roots. And sure enough they're right. Bicycles are part of the company's genetic code. Here's information on the American Messenger Company, which later became known as the United Parcel Service, from the company's Web site:

In response to telephone calls received at their basement headquarters, messengers ran errands, delivered packages, and carried notes, baggage, and trays of food from restaurants. They made most deliveries on foot and used bicycles for longer trips.

Next (pun intended), a distribution center employee, who is described in the story as a "avid cyclist," dissuaded the bossman from purchasing bicycle-shaped objects from Wal-Mart and steered him toward some refurbished bicycles at a local shop. Bonus points for that.

But even the avid cyclist suggests some parcels just can't be dispatched by bicycle.

Not every package is suitable for delivery by bike, Lutz adds. “We’re not going to make a bike person haul around some big Pottery Barn box.”

I bet this machine could handle it.