Cars Are Hard and Bigger Than You

Got smacked pretty good the other day. I was heading south on Vanderbilt, straight through the light at Fulton. A guy in white car heading north on Vanderbilt decided to turn left onto Fulton and didn't yield to oncoming traffic. I remember the accident in three parts: 1. hey, I think that guy is about to hit me 2. ouch, I am on the windshield 3. hey, I'm in the air - where's my bike? Then I was laying on the pavement waiting for it to start really hurting. For the most part, I seem to be okay. No blood, anyway. The red bike is dead & gone. RIP red bike.

Based on this experience, I have decided that I am indestructable. Awesome!

The above picture is me in my new loft. The red bike is against the wall behind me - this is the last known photo of the red bike intact. It was rubbed out less than an hour later. Bastards!

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Update on the graffiti wars: I guess the warmish February weather has inspired some creativity, because this loveliness was left on top of the Williamsburg Bridge sign. Very nice! I stopped to look at it more closely on my way home tonight. There is actually some sophisticated line work in there - more than you would probably imagine at the thought of the word "graffiti". It is starting to look like the powers that be have given up on cleaning the sign. Maybe this is just for the winter, though.

Sick (ick)

Update: So I got in touch with Patrick, the bus driver, and got his address. I sent him $100 as a reward and also wrote a letter explaining what he did to the president of the MTA and the head of the MTA bus company. Just for good measure, I CC'ed the NY Times city desk (or whatever it is called). Hopefully, Patrick will get something good out of this deal.

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Wednesday morning, Valentine's Day, I woke up to about 6" of snow on the ground and freezing rain falling from the sky. I was supposed to be closing on my new apartment that day and had to get to downtown Brooklyn - and then had to get to my office at 26th & Fifth Ave. I decided my bike was a better bet than the subway so I suited up and took off. I went about half a block on Flushing Avenue before deciding that it would be smarter to ride on the sidewalk as much as possible. You aren't supposed to do that in NYC, but there were no pedestrians and the drivers were sliding around quite a bit. Probably something to do with STILL DRIVING 50mph IN A 30mph ZONE. Jeepers, people!

I got to the closing about 30 minutes early, basically not looking remotely like someone you would want to trust with a mortgage: helmet hair, about twenty layers of clothes, messenger bag, wearing olive green spats over jeans and unshaven. Remarkably enough, everyone made it to the closing and I am now the proud owner of my very own loft. Contractor starts work in about a week.

After the closing, I decided I should avoid the streets as much as possible and rode over the Brooklyn Bridge, across Chambers Street, and up the west side bike path to 26th Street, where I rode east until I got to my office. It was slow-going, there was a lot of wind and the ice pellets really stung my face. The fenders were clogged with snow and slush, which rubbed against the wheels, making it even hard to keep up any speed. Also, the snow that caked up on the tires was being shaved off by the brake arches, creating still more resistance.

So now I feel a little sick, a chest cold - no fun, but not too bad. Would I do it again?

Oh yes!

Randominimity

I am pretty sure the title of this post isn't even a word but there's a gob of little junk to write about so here goes:

First off - I have in this blog and in other places dissed the MTA (and their bus operators in particular) as being evil and inconsiderate drivers of hulking obnoxious death machines. I would like to back off of that just a little bit. Okay - really just for one driver in particular. His name is Patrick and he drives the B61 bus that runs between downtown Brooklyn and Long Island City - here is what he did:

Today I was riding home from a tasty lunch at Chai with my (awesome and beautiful) friend Beth. As I zipped down Wythe (at superhuman speed), I noticed that a bus driver about a half block behind me was honking a fair amount. I assumed it was the usual belligerent bus driver honking like a maniac at everything in his path. I kept ahead of the bus, and managed to not make any rude gestures (since he wasn't riding my tail and honking). I turned off of Wythe onto Rodney and headed on home.

About an hour later, I checked my e-mail and the lady who bought my old house in Windsor Terrace had sent me a message saying that some bus driver had called to try and return my wallet - she gave me his cell number and I was able to call him and meet up with the bus about a block from my home to retrieve my wallet.

Patrick had seen the wallet fall out of my pocket while I was riding, stopped to pick it up and then chased me down honking his horn to try and get me to stop. Then he managed (while driving his route) to find a phone number for my old address that was on the driver's license and get word to me. When I met the bus, I explained that I did not have much cash and asked him to call my cell number, leave his full name and address and I would mail him a proper reward. At first he declined and after I insisted he said that he would call me. I will call him if I don't hear from him in the next day or so.

Thank you, Patrick! The MTA needs about 20,000 more employees like you.

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Completely unrelated to that story: I did a review of several pairs of cycling knickers which was posted on the Fixed Gear Gallery a few months ago. Originally, it was written as one long review of all the knickers at once. Dennis at FGG modified it to work better with his typical review format. I feel like the text flowed better in my original version, but understand completely the need for a consistent format. Thanks to Dennis and the FGG for putting it up on their site!

What To Think

The last two nights have been really fun. There were roller races at Bar 169 on Tuesday night; that is Dave Perry in the foreground of the picture. I love how the Bikeworks jersey has the roller-racing dial on the shoulder! You can also see Arone Dyer just off the right hand side of the frame.

As I was getting ready to leave the bar a guy in a dark overcoat leaned into me and whispered, "you oughtta stick around...Floyd Landis is going to be here in half an hour." I whispered back, "I will see him tomorrow night."

Wednesday night, I went to the Brooklyn Brewery for a benefit for the Floyd Fairness Fund. The FFF is raising money for Floyd's defense against the doping charges that arose in the 2006 Tour de France. I went to the presentation with an open mind; I truly WANT to believe that Floyd is innocent. They gave what I assume is a brief presentation of the facts as they see them and the problems with the doping allegations against Floyd, including a few labeling and handling errors. The data and terminology is all unfamiliar to me and I can't say that I was entirely convinced, but it did look like there were legitimate questions as to whether the sample could positively be linked to Floyd. What I did find convincing was the look in Floyd's eyes when he answered that he had not during the 2006 TDF (or ever in his career) used performance enhancing drugs.

The sad part about this case - all doping allegations, really - is that there is no way for Floyd to win this case and have it perceived as anything other than getting off on a technicality. The best revenge for him would be to win the TdF again - I believe he has bowed out of the 2007 Tour.

Floyd seems like a decent and personable guy, he took a moment to sign an autograph for a friend of mine who could not attend and also posed for this picture with my friend Mary-Lynne.