An Ode to Ohio

Side note - On the day I left on my trip Margo Lynn caught me at breakfast and had me model a knit hat for this Mountain Man competition.  It looks like I'm climbing in the polls, but need your votes to reach the top.  Any winnings will go to BiCi Co.  You can vote once a day for the next week.  Just "skip" the initial pop up and vote for the guy that looks like the photo below.  The theme is fitting as I'm a day away from riding across West Virginia to Pittsburgh.  Ouch.

Vote early and often for your favorite mountain man.

After suffering through Kentucky, the Ohio River Valley route has been a dream.   Starting in Cincinnati through this morning in Portsmouth, Ohio I was almost entirely on route 52.  I was a bit worried that the route would be busy with truck traffic and repeat the Kentucky experience, but I've been pleasantly surprised.  Most of the mileage has had a comfortably sized shoulder allowing me an informal bike lane.  The drivers, car and truck, have been courteous and are passing at a comfortable distance.  Hard to believe that just across the river in Kentucky you'll find a backwards third world nation state of dangerous rednecks.  Don't go there.

A lot of my Ohio River Valley riding looks like this.

I heard that the Ohio DOT has been making strides in Complete Streets design that started when the director from Columbus moved up to the state DOT.  I can believe it.  The Ohio to Erie route from Northeast Ohio to the Southwest Ohio corner was amazing, with much of it on paved multi-use paths.  Even this southern state route 52 hugging the Ohio River is a pleasant ride.  Ohio is rightfully ranked 19th for bike friendliness, leaps and bounds ahead of Kentucky (49th).  Check out the Ohio DOT website for bicycle route information.  Ohio also has 12 bicycle region coordinators identified on their website.  For comparison, only one person on the Connecticut DOT has this role.

Portsmouth is a bike friendly landing spot for lunch after my stealth camp last night off a steep logging road in the Shawnee State Forest.  Portsmouth is an early stop on the TOSRV ride, and they have a large bike mural on the flood wall.  In fact, the entire flood wall is adorned with high quality murals.  A neat little town.

TOSRV mural on the Portsmouth, OH flood wall

Even in the Pea Soup fog, drivers have been courteous in Ohio.

This goes to show that it's about leadership.  A city and state with leaders that appreciate sustainable transportation can really improve things.  Keep this in mind when you're voting.  What are the candidates saying about transportation, biking, walking, and transit?  We spend a lot of time and resources getting from point A-to-B, so our elected leaders should be up to speed on the topic.  If they look at you like you're speaking French when you talk about Complete Streets, they shouldn't be in charge.

U.S. Grant whupped up on the Confederates.  Hooahh! Y'all lost.

Unfortunately, Utopia was a failed experiment.

Sometimes you find your camp spots in the most curious locations.  You might stay in a national forest campground, like the Vesuvius Recreation Area.   Other times you may be in a riverside city park in the ghost town of Cheshire, OH.  The local power plant bought up all the homes and businesses and tore most of them down to prevent future law suits against the coal fired plant in their backyard.   The funny part is, most of the mercury and pollution heads downwind.  Can these power plants buy off the entire Northeast?

Historic hot blast furnace at Vesuvius.  Coal and ore in them there hills.

Cheshire, OH.  View from my camp at the local park.

Entering Pomeroy, OH.  Creative treatment of a concrete retaining wall.

Bridge from Pomeroy to West Virginia - worth a stop.

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Let's all be more friendly

I'm trying to get my head around the behavior of  cyclists in Connecticut, or perhaps this is a larger New England phenomenon.  The situation - I'm poking along on a commuter bike or 3-speed laden with groceries and someone kitted up rides by me on the left.  First issue - no verbal communication that they are about to pass on the left, which is a straight up safety issue.  Secondly - more of a pet peeve - they don't even say hello.  I try toss a cheerful howdy as they churn away, and some can't even be bothered to say hi even then.

Seriously.  What's up with that?  This occurred three times this this summer, and I was on a different bike each time.  First occurrence was on Silver Lane at the intersection with Main Street.  I was on my 3-speed Schwinn Traveler with baskets full of groceries and stopped waiting for the light to change.  As the light turned green and I stepped on the pedals, I was passed by a road cyclist going full speed just as I crossed the stop line.  Not even an "on your left" to give warning that I was about to be shelled in the middle of an intersection.  Not cool.  What if I was a drunk homeless guy?  I could have swerved left and caused serious harm as I wobbled my way up to speed.  For your own safety, announce your passes.

The second occurrence was on Main Street, approaching Silver Lane.  Poking along on my Schwinn Super le Tour built up as a single speed fendered commuter complete with rack and panniers, I was passed by an older fellow out on his daily constitutional.  He blew by with no "on your left" and I decided to catch up and say hi.  He proceeded to take a right at the next red light, turn left into a store parking lot, and continue straight.  The maneuver was all sorts of awkward and dangerous.  He was very intent on not stopping, but was a bit sheepish about blowing the light.

The latest happened tonight.  While riding out to meet up with a friend to ride in Manchester, again on Silver Lane - actually Spencer Street on the Manchester side.  Damn that street, it was the only common factor aside from males riding road bikes. On my Kona commuter bike with panniers I was heading up a hill and a fellow ripped by.  I said hiya.  He ignored me.  At that point I decided that I was confused and needed to go to the internets to help me clear things up.

I don't think it's cranky of me to expect at minimum a verbal communication (or bell) from a cyclist approaching and passing on the left.  Unlike cars, many bikes don't make any noise at all.  I also might not see you with a quick glance over my left shoulder as you could be directly behind me.

Above and beyond, I will also think better of you as a human for saying hello.  In my opinion greeting fellow cyclists in the otherwise bike commuter sparse Connecticut helps build cohesion in the community and in my personal experience makes the ride more pleasant.  When we, cyclists, are regularly in danger on roads not designed for cyclist safety, those personal connections and pleasantries with our human powered compatriots keep things positive.

Does this guy look like a jerk?  Very excited to say hello.  

Wise Beat Bike Blog readers - I welcome your comments and tales of personal experience.  Do I just look like someone that should be shunned and passed as quickly as possible?  I have included a recent photo for folks that don't know me personally.  I'm on a commuter bike wearing something not unlike the stuff I would wear to work or on local commutes.   Do you say hello or make a point of announcing your pass when you come across a fellow cyclist or bike commuter?

Did a quick Google on this since I'm sure that this isn't the first time it has been considered.  Appears that it isn't just a Northeast thing.

• Adventure Journal Article
• Bicycle Style Spokane

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Gun control

Last Thursday, Governor Malloy signed the sweeping gun control bill into law. Some people are angry about it and some people are happy about it. That's neither here nor there, because it seems to do little to address things with which people have shot at me. The evening after the bill I was signed, I was riding home from school on Hillside Ave around 9:45. I saw two youth walking west on Catherine Street, who proceeded to shoot at me with a bb gun. They didn't hit me, which was good. I wasn't happy about this, so I called the police. The police were helpful and responded quickly, but my description of two youth with black hoodies on Hillside Ave with a bb gun was not particularly descriptive and they didn't find anyone.

This wasn't the first time I had been shot at. Five years ago I was riding down Capitol Ave and some kids shot at me with a slingshot. Happily, they didn't hit me either. I didn't call the police that time, because back then I lacked the bike handling skills to call 911 while riding. I guess being shot at every five years isn't so bad. People try to run me over much more frequently that. Maybe I'm overreacting.

The only reason I bring this up is because I feel that this blog is usually too preachy about Hartford and bikes. Those things are all well and good, but they also can suck. I used to be high and mighty towards people who aren't as passionate about Hartford and bikes as me. Now, I can respect other opinions. There are downsides, like getting shot at. There's no cool urban grittiness to brag about in this situation. It just sucks.

Actually, I don't think riding a bike sucks. I still like that a lot.

Also, riding in a bike in West Hartford sucks, too. I was coming home from a ride on Saturday and some asshole tried to run me over after I was told while waiting for the light to change that I shouldn't use the road.

So, I'm not going to stop doing what I'm doing, but I understand both sides now. I considered not writing about this on this silly little blog, because I didn't want to write some knee-jerk reaction to what happened in the throes of pissed off-itude. I sat on it over the weekend and didn't tell anyone about last Thursday's incident. I thought some more about it and decided that when I give someone a hard time about not walking somewhere or riding their bike to it, maybe there's a legitimate reason why they didn't do those things. That thinking led me to decide that maybe weird bike people like me should be a little more understanding.

I am not advocating for a bb gun ban. I am a proud, law-abiding bb gun owner! Read more!

It's the Culture, Stupid

"If I run into you, and you're on a bike, you're dead. My truck, we'll just bounce"

Laughter.

"They're so stupid. Why do they think they get to be up against cars."

More laughter.

That brilliant, mature, and sensitive exchange came direct from the mouths of Generation Y. The best and the brightest. The ones who are allegedly going to take the reins and lead the country.

I heard this conversation on Wednesday. Cringed. Made a conscious decision to not leave my office to interrupt and preach law at them. I bit my tongue, hoping they were not as assholish as they seemed.

After all, this generation is marked by the myriad and mirrored hall of self-representation. Their identities never static, never 100% honest.

Is there an app for curing stupid?

I stewed and went about my day.

Then yesterday, as I woke up, before I even got out of bed, I read about a time when those in a car did not just bounce. I saw photographs of a horrific one-car crash a few blocks from my house. The car's roof had to be removed in an attempt to remove the victims. The passenger died.

If someone so much as hears about a person getting mugged on Allen Place, he will avoid that area. But the Almighty Automobile? We have come to view accidents as an acceptable risk if it means a trip to the grocery store takes five minutes instead of twenty.

Later yesterday, sitting in the same office, I read that a cyclist was struck in Hartford.

Another.

Hit hard enough that he required CPR.

The photograph on news sites shows his belongings strewn all over the street.

The news, they don't even know how to deal with this kind of incident. The victim is at once described as a cyclist and a pedestrian. There is no rush to describe him. Most articles do not even try, giving no indication of sex, age, or race. The one that bothers to: male, somewhere between childhood and AARP.

One report states the driver stayed at the accident scene. Others don't say this. One comment suggests the driver's license may have been suspended.

The way our culture regards people using transportation outside of privately-owned vehicles indicates that we are all in critical condition.

Recklessness behind the wheel receives such a light slap on the wrist that one could believe no consequences could ever come for one's crimes. Motorists could slow down. They could stop. They could look where they are going. Really look. They could scan the roadway for objects beside other motorized vehicles.

They could think before they act.

Last night, for reasons unrelated to the car vs. cyclist accident, there was a large DUI enforcement checkpoint set up on Asylum Street. Even with ample media coverage of this, several individuals were arrested there.

They were especially warned to think about their actions, and several were still unable to put the safety of others ahead of themselves.

Of the three arrested for driving under the influence -- including one who had been driving with a suspended license -- what are the odds that all will be back behind the wheel within months, if not immediately?

Our culture fosters this mentality that if we can afford a vehicle, then we are entitled to drive. And to take that "right" away, we have to repeatedly and brazenly fuck up.

That's the message sent to those on foot or on bike: You have no rights. No recourse. Me in this car? I'll just bounce. No permanent damage. Read more!

Hipster Ponies with Beards?

Brendan and I headed out for a mixed media ride on Saturday.  Starting out down Main Street East Hartford, some a-hole driving a Porche Cayenne (am I restating the obvious?) laid on the horn a couple of times before revving by and taking a fast right onto Riverside Drive.  I'm guessing it's because he never learned how to change lanes to pass.  We spent the next mile discussing the best way to communicate with courteous drivers while wearing ski mittens or bulky black gloves at night - fist shaking and the facetious parade wave.

The temp was just around freezing with a good hard freeze last night.  With the heavy rain this week, there was a sloppy mix of hard frozen mud, just barely frozen mud, and not at all frozen mud.  The ride headed south on the east side of the river, through the Glastonbury Meadows with an attempt to get all the way to Portland fairgrounds, but unfortunately the water was up - and we found oodles of mud - backtracked to Old Maids Lane and were roundly insulted by the digital speed detector.

Then turned up Isinglass to Meshomasic State Forest for some speedy dirt roads.  Brendan pulled off a spectacular endo trying to clear a downed tree.  Seems he WAY over lifted the rear wheel due to concern with jamming his big ring into the rather sizable tree.  Whatever caused it, I enjoyed watching the topple.  Had several over bar bike dismounts of my own when attempting to roll some ridiculous tree falls.  Hey, why not try?  Maybe someday I'll get better and they'll look less ridiculous.

On Coldbrook Road, one of the most fucking bucolic streets around, we found these odd little ponies with beards.  Left when one starting eating the other's shit.  Shit eating bearded ponies.

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