As you know, I am a daily bike rider, at least in summer, here in NYC. There's a lot of comeraderie among bikers, probably because we all have to deal with other New Yorkers on foot and in cars. The other day, a large group of students blocked the path. They were lined up, waiting for a light to turn so they could cross 12th Ave, which is a very heavily traffic'd street. If, for example, they had tried to cross it without waiting for the light, some of them would have been killed for sure. The traffic goes by at 50-plus MPH. So of course they waited. As I approached this scene I could see that I would have to stop, dismount, and walk my bike through the crowd. But I was not the first biker to arrive on the scene. Another guy, about my age, was trying to explain to these youngsters that what they were doing was wrong, and potentially dangerous. The students were telling him, loudly, in earshot of their teachers, to fuck off. He persisted. They threatened him. I kept my mouth shut. I knew from past experience that this is what would happen. I've seen worse.
Not to say there aren't crazy idiot bikers, there are. There are several places on the bike trail I ride where we must share the space with pedestrians. No matter how badly the pedestrians behave, there's no excuse for using them as slalom poles, and when in their presence, you must slow down. They often have little kids with them, who can quickly dart out from between the adults. Regardless, bikers do some utterly dumbfoundingly dangerous things, rushing by at 20-plus MPH, forcing pedestrians to run out of their way, and other bikers to shake their heads in disbelief. (Like yours truly.) On every trip I see a guy (almost always a man) riding while texting, both hands on his iPhone, eyes on the screen, riding like a missle without a brain (and of course no helmet). Okay, he feels indestructible. But I don't. The risk he's taking is a shared risk. There are other people on the road. Yet, there he goes. Many years ago I wrote a story about the day the Mets won the World Series in 1969. How New York, that day, even in Manhattan and the Bronx, was the City of Smiles. I wrote: "There was no sadness in New York that day. The city with no heart all of a sudden had a huge one!" I got a lot of pushback on that. People said NY wasn't like that anymore. It was a friendly city. I had no basis on which to argue, so I didn't (but I didn't change the piece, either). The truth is, while NY has many redeeming qualities, I've lived in friendly places, and New York is not one of them.
Today's ride: 1 hour 4 minutes, 11.42 mi. |