The Psychology of Bunnies

Shhh, Be Vewy Quiet. I’m hunting Wabbit.

The endless miles of the Twin Lights Century made me think about many things (100 miles alone through suburbia will do that to you). Snack Availability, Roadkill, and Bunnies were very popular topics.
I like a good bunny better than most cyclists – probably because I ride by myself so much, and the century provided me with an opportunity to really categorize what made a bunny good and what made a bunny bad.



A ‘good’ bunny is going the same way via the same route at a slightly faster rate than you would go by yourself.
Their bicycle should be more expensive than yours and have more gear attached to it.
(You should feel good to be keeping up with them, not embarrassed to have your ass kicked by the deli delivery guy.)
They should be wearing bright, easily identifiable clothing.
Fluorescent green, electric blue and shiny psychedelic designs are all good. The more unique the better, so that you can distinguish your bunny from other riders and objects the further away from them you fall.
There are few feelings more satisfying than losing your bunny only to spot them a mile or so later as the road curves in the distance. They need to be wearing something bright for this to be possible. White is not a good choice – there are a lot of white things in the world and as you grow tired, you may begin to mistake these objects for your bunny causing bouts of depression and sadness.
A good bunny rides predictably and lawfully.
It’s no use following someone who randomly speeds up and slows down for no good reason, only to blow through six lane intersections while cursing the honking traffic every time they miss the light – unless you like to do this too, in which case good on you both and I hope you don’t believe in Darwinism.
A good bunny does not acknowledge you until one or both of you has reached your destination.
Even if they are alone too, it’s weird to try to form a little temporary team based on a randomly shared pace. I try to keep far enough back so that my bunny doesn’t even realize that I’m there. On a country road, this can mean keeping back a few hundred meters.



And then there were none. The turn off to the 100 mile route spelled the beginning of a long stretch where I saw very few other cyclists.

I need bunnies when I ride long distances. I’m not interested enough in keeping track of my own pace to stay consistent without other riders for context. I start to daydream. I stop and take pictures. I go into a low gear to climb a hill and then forget to switch out of it.
I don’t normally think very much of it. After all, who cares really? But the Century had a finite time limit, and I have to admit, it did stress me out a little.
I really didn’t feel like missing the ferries to go home and end up sitting on the pier in NJ for hours. With that in mind, I figured that I needed to keep pace with at least the slower consistent riders. Averaging 14 mph with rest-stops would get me back in about 7.5 or 8 hours, just in time for the 4:30 ferry home.
I’m slowly discovering how these things work, and I guess the start will always be a little nervous with faster and slower riders all mixed together trying to shake out into some kind of organization. It’s a little hard on the ego, but I am not a 22 mph over 100 miles rider, and those guys are going to pass me never to be seen again.
I picked up one set of bunnies for a couple of miles, and then another set after the rest stop. I got “wheel sucked” for the first time in my life by a guy who had been dropped by his group at a light.
Boy is that annoying. I mean follow me, fine. But don’t crawl up my ass for 8 miles.
Then, at mile 30, it happened. I picked up these two guys in bright blue matchy matchy jerseys, and comfortably slotted in a couple hundred yards behind them. I followed them for almost 40 miles, until they split up at a rest stop and the one I stuck with took a wrong turn. 40 miles with the same bunnies – how cool is that? I saw one later at the last rest stop before the finish, and I almost broke the no contact rule, but I thought better of it. I mean, what was I going to say, “Hey, I was following you for 40 miles, I just wanted to say ‘Hi’?”
My last bunny was more of a buddy than a bunny. The last 20 miles of hills were every man for himself and I was keeping pace with one other guy until that last hill that I just couldn't make it over without walking. This last hill highlighted a basic difference between my philosophy and his; I hate having to walk my bike up hills, but I'll do it. He refused to dismount on the hill and I passed him while he was recovering. He waved me by and I saluted. I beat him to the finish by 10 minutes.



Adding insult to injury. The sign at the top of the hill that I didn't make it over.

2007 Bike New York Twin Lights Century

View of sunrise over Coney Island from the deck of the SeaStreak Ferry, en route to the start of the 2007, Bike New York, Twin Lights, Monmouth County Century. (You'd think with a name this long it would be a bigger ride than it is, but more on that later.)

I don't know why I decided to do this Century - maybe to prove that I could, maybe to see what it felt like to actually ride 100 miles instead of survive the 100 which is how I felt about the NYC Century, or maybe just because the days are going to get shorter and every opportunity for a beautiful ride seems like a good idea.

The day started well. The forecast was perfect for a ride and I made it to the pick up point at Pier 11 with time to spare.

The SeaStreak Ferry runs to NJ year-round, but this route gets busy during the summer when smart city dwellers run away to the beautiful, clean, uncrowded beaches at Sandy Hook State Park. The ferry ride itself was beautiful and relaxing. I chilled out for the 45 minute ride, and even had a cup of COFFEE.

The start was two minutes away from the ferry landing in Highlands NJ. The sun was up. The day was looking grand. All was right with the world.



The longer distance riders all looked pretty homogeneous. Not that there weren't many colors of people, but not that many different 'types'. Everyone was riding a 'nice' road bike, there were one or two exceptions to the spandex, but we stood out like sore thumbs, and the median age felt like it was about 45.

I checked in (again) and went to get my 100 mile cue sheet. Considering how few people there were, it seemed chaotic at the start. The nice man who I asked for the 100 mile cue sheet, kindly offered me a 50 mile sheet in case I wanted to back out. I very nicely declined and even resisted the urge to drop-kick him for patronizing me before 8am.

I set off down the road, a little nervous about riding in a completely unfamiliar area, but that's one of the best reasons to do these rides - they are plotted, planned, marked, and fully supported, so if you run into trouble, you've got help coming.

I arrived at the Oceanport Rest Stop with a group of riders who left at about 8am - and it wasn't set up yet.
OK.
I have no idea what the 7:30 riders did, my guess is they just skipped it. It was only about 10 miles in, so fine.
Got to the Sunnyside Rest Stop - and this is where my memory fails me because they all melt together at a certain point - either here, or at the Shark River Rest Stop they had no water. No Water. I filled my water bottle out of a sink that said "Please, only use sink to wash hands". I'm assuming (mostly because I didn't get sick) that if the water wasn't drinkable, it would have specifically said - "Don't Drink The Water". As it was, the water was warm, I was unhappy, and the rest stops were about 20 miles from each other - out in BF NJ, so water seemed pretty important.
Oh, for those of you who wanted a PBJ - I took the last half they had. Sorry.

Somewhere around the 70 mile mark, I saw my first marshal. He asked me what I was doing so far behind him and I commented that if he was supposed to be sweeping the tail of the ride, I had just left a large bunch at the last rest stop. No idea what that was about. The he asked me how I was enjoying the ride. I said, "Eh".
I thought I was just being cranky at the time.
Don't ask me if I'm enjoying myself at mile 70. Until 50 or 60, I'm usually feeling pretty good. More than 60 miles is where the Century turns into more than the average ride for me and it becomes work. Like a work horse, at about 85 miles, I can smell the stables and start sprinting for home. Between the two, I'm cranky.

The total climb for the 100 is 4,058 feet. Most of that falls into the final 20 miles.



I made it almost all the way to the end and then had to walk the final hill at mile 100 that led past the turnoff to the ferry landing.
There's a sadist laughing somewhere in Monmouth County.

The Twin Lights Century is much much smaller that the NYC Century and I'm not sure if that's the problem, or if that's what makes their lack of preparation even worse. I have much more respect for the organizers of the NYC Century now than I did when I rode it. It's tough to get it together the way they did and the Twin Lights proved that.
I saw one marshal, no SAG wagon, and spent at least a half hour wandering around various rest stops looking for some water to drink, or something that wasn't a cookie to eat.

In the end, I didn't enjoy this as much as the NYC Century, but it was a good experience. It made me think about what I like about biking, and what I'm less than fond of.
I don't like going around in circles. I like seeing new things. I like to focus on a goal. I don't like hills. I like drinking cold water. I don't like mealy cookies. I liked the parkour aspect of the NYC century, I was less enamored with the 85 of 100 miles through suburban NJ.

This has nothing to do with how the ride was organized but man, New Jersey People, what is it with the roadkill? I saw so much roadkill that I'm surprised there are any living things left in Jersey. For a while I was keeping count and making up modes of categorizing the different types, but I gave up at about 35 carcasses and shouldn't a whole deer count as more?

I would absolutely do this ride again, but either I would only do the 30, which is a lovely loop around the most picturesque areas, or I would try to talk someone into going with me. It's just not interesting enough to do alone.

I finished in 8.5 hours including rest stops and missed the 4:30 ferry by minutes.

No Floyd, No...

Say it ain't so Floyd Landis.

"Landis’s Positive Doping Test Upheld"


By JULIET MACUR,
NYT
September 21, 2007

More than a year after winning the 2006 Tour de France, Floyd Landis lost his lengthy, costly and very public doping case yesterday when an arbitration panel upheld charges that he had used performance-enhancing drugs to win the race.

I'm so depressed, I don't even want to talk about it.

Boys vs Girls

It really is ‘OK if you don’t love me’.
I know there is a God for Margaret.
and I learned everything I ever needed to know about sex
from Judy Blume.
(I still can’t meet guys named Ralph and not laugh like a character out of Family Guy.)

But apparently, I still haven’t figured out that boys and girls are different.

Ladies, no matter how repulsive you find the apparel designed for female cyclists – and for Pete’s sake, it’s ugly. Don’t buy men’s jerseys and think they will fit.
They don’t.
I’m sure there are some exceptions to this rule. After all, some women look good in low-rise jeans. Not as many as think they do, but some.
Jerseys are different.
Women’s jerseys are cut to flare over your hips so when you lean over your handlebars you don’t moon the universe. Men’s jerseys are ‘elasticized’ to make up for their lack of hips. This means that fat guys look fatter, and women look like misshapen potatoes.
I, of course, learned this by purchasing a quite lovely jersey the other day from the men's sale rack. I don’t have ‘bike clothes’ and most of the stuff I’ve seen is just embarrassing. I saw this perfectly plain jersey and thought now that I’m riding a lot, I should give it a try. Maybe there’s something to all this specialized gear?
Well, I still haven’t figured that part out.

(It’s not called bike dummy because I’m a brain surgeon.)

As seen on... Roosevelt Island

The ruin of the smallpox hospital at the tip of Roosevelt Island is one of my favorite 'urban decay' landmarks in NYC.
Known as "The Renwick Ruin", it was built by James Renwick in the 1850's to serve the victims of the smallpox epidemic that was sweeping the country in the days of the Civil War.
Renwick was famous for his Gothic Revival structures, of which more than a few have been designated as NYC landmarks. These include; Grace Church, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and the Greyston Conference Center in the Bronx.
I love biking to the tip of Roosevelt Island. You can take a bike over on the tram from 60th street in Manhattan, but it's much more satisfying to use pedal power and come across the connecting bridge from Astoria at Vernon Blvd. and 36th Ave.
It's one of those great hidden places where you are at the center of it all and yet, are almost always alone. From East to West, there are spectacular views of LIC, the Williamsburg Bridge, the UN, and Sutton Place.
The view of the ruin, glowing eerily on the shore of the island, has mesmerized many a New Yorker over the years. I've always been jealous of those who have been inside - but not jealous enough to jump the fence.

For more info on the ruin go to The Roosevelt Island Historical Society.

There's got to be a morning after...

Happy Birthday Neil.
Great Gig.
I should have gone home, but I didn't.

Don't drink and bike.
(It's not called bike dummy because I'm a brain surgeon)

Almost perfect, Prospect Park

This was going to be an entry about how beautiful today was. How much I love this weather. How great it felt to get back on my bike for the first time since the century. But instead, it's back on my soapbox I go.
Today is Saturday, right?
There are no cars allowed in Prospect Park on weekends, right?
Saturday is considered part of the weekend, right?
So how come every single time I turned down onto the East Drive I got passed by a car?
Now, don't go blowing this picture up to report the license plate on this car. This one was just unlucky to get caught on camera by me. It was the other 8 or 9 that got me steamed.
The first one, ran right up the asses of these two kids on BMX bikes and honked at them to get them to move. Another one honked at me as it blew by doing about 30 mph. The others just scared people who didn't expect them to be there.
There is a special place in hell reserved for motorists who honk at cyclists.
I can hear you, OK?
I am not the one who is hermetically sealed in a metal box with air-conditioning running, a radio blaring, and my face permanently attached to a cell phone. Before you ran up behind me, I was enjoying the quiet sound of the wind and the click of my wheels.
I don't want to be in your way any more than you want me there. I will move over as soon as it is feasible. You do not see the pot hole on the shoulder or the glass in the road.
If you have come up on me too fast for me to react, then surely blowing an airhorn at my back and surprising me, will make me more capable of getting out of your way.
Give me one good reason why it is OK to honk at a group of kids who have the right of way in a park?

Green, huh, Good God Y'all...

What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Say it again...




I always thought this was a protected parking lane that belongs to the Brooklyn Marriott on Adams Street - and apparently I'm not the only one.
I have never once seen this clear of cars and never once seen anybody trying to do something about it. Until they painted the damn thing puke green, I never even knew it was there.

To read up on the Adams Street bike lane, go to the Transportation Alternatives Magazine Archive
Here's an edited selection of what you'll find.

Dear Brooklyn Marriott:
I travel for business about twice a
month, and whenever possible, I stay at
Marriott Hotels. When I am not travelling,
however, I commute every weekday to my
Midtown office by bicycle via the Brooklyn
Bridge. This takes me past the Brooklyn
Marriott every morning at about 6:30 am
on the new Adams Street bike lane.
Frequently, taxis and car service limos
are parked illegally at the curb directly in
front of the Marriott; meanwhile, the Mar-
riott driveway is almost always empty. This
forces me and other cyclists to swerve out
into traffic as we pass the hotel. This is
extremely dangerous, exposes Marriott to
liability...




The Marriott replied:
Thank you for sharing your concern
regarding bicycle safety, particularly the
Adams Street Bike Lane.
Since the Bike Lane opened in late
1998, the hotel has been addressing the
problem you have mentioned.
...the New York Marriott Brooklyn has been
attempting to keep the appropriately
designated areas in front of the hotel as
clear as possible. However, our staff has
encountered verbal and attempted physical
abuse as we attempt to police the area...

Ken Schwartz, GM
NY Marriott Brooklyn


"staff has encountered verbal and attempted physical abuse as we attempt to police the area"

Whoa. How about the lone bicyclist who is trying not to get killed?



I've got a radical idea ... How about the Police police the area?

Before you get too excited about the fact that the Marriott and/or NYC is attempting to address this issue, keep in mind that the pictures were taken today...
and the letters were written in 1999.

Nuff said.

The Green Half Mile

Daily News - Riders say abrupt end to bike path on busy road is dangerous
Brooklyn cyclists are seeing red over a new bright-green bike path in Brooklyn Heights and Cobble Hill.
Bikers and advocates said they have no problem with the brightly painted Henry St. path itself, which they said makes the lane stand out better and helps keep cars from parking there.
But they charge the popular new lane abruptly ends at Amity St., just south of Atlantic Ave., where Henry St. becomes too narrow for a car to safely pass a bike.

Brooklyn Heights Blog
..."why is the bike lane on Henry Street being painted such an awful shade of green? It’s hideous, and it seems more of a distraction than a safety aid. What gives?"

Kermit’s Bike Lane

hideous!!! and what precisely would make a driver think: green=cyclists?
it’d be so much clearer & safer if they just bother to actually repaint the bike-lane signage with fresh (& reflective) coats every now & then.
instead, idiot bureaucrats let the paint coats deteriorate & fade away, then decide (genius) to splatter the whole of Henry St in puke-green.

I haven’t gotten around to seeing it yet, but I am curious how slippery it will get when it rains (or is the paint not that thick?)


- I've been seeing so much stuff about this recently that I figured I might as well share a penny's worth of what's on my mind.

I hate the green bike lane.

(and here comes the other penny)

The flat all-over color makes it almost impossible to identify the many obstacles that they've arbitrarily painted over, like - manhole covers, inset utility access holes, and potholes. It's like navigating an obstacle course with night-vision goggles on.
It's slippery when wet - and not in a fun Bon Jovi way either.
The color hasn't changed motorist's driving (and illegal parking) habits in any way. By far the worst offenders stop in front of the First Presbyterian Church just past Clark street, and painting the lane hasn't given them pause.
For some reason, every Tom, Dick and Harriet, Yellow Rat Bastard T-Shirt wearing, we're too cool for helmets, cruiser rider, feels like the green lane should allow them to ride the wrong way down the street on it.

And finally, now that it's dirty, it's just FUGLY.

The scariest part of the Daily News Article?
"The green path is the first of its kind in the city. If successful, other bike lanes also will be painted, officials said."

Argh.