Let it Snow!

I haven't been cured of my Weather.com addiction yet.  In fact, it's getting worse.  I grew up in Southern California, where the weather forecast was always the same:  "Late night and early morning low clouds burning off by mid-morning.  Highs in the low '80s."  I could go for weeks without checking the weather forecast, and yet I still managed to dress myself every morning and ride my bike around without any major weather-induced catastrophes. 

Here in Milwaukee, it's a different story.  I guess that's because we actually have weather here.  I compulsively check the weather before each commute.  I study the radar maps.  I analyze the wind speed and direction.  I evaluate the wind chill.  Based on that data, I make critical decisions concerning my wardrobe and bike gear. 

So now that we are under a "winter weather warning," the excitement is almost intolerable.  All pumped up on forecasts of near-blizzard conditions, I left my house this morning looking for accumulations of snow so that I could purposely ride through them.  I took the photo that appears at the top of this post because it was the snowiest-looking street I could find on my commute this morning.  In fact, most of my ride was on clear pavement.  I really did my best to create the illusion (both in my own fantasy world and on this blog) that I braved fierce conditions in order to get to work this morning. 

In fact, conditions weren't that fierce.  Instead, my ride was rather sedate this morning.  The roads were nice.  The winds were light, and the temperatures weren't that cold.  A light snow was falling, but I arrived at work bone dry (I'll take snow over rain any day). 

The weather forecasters insist that the really nasty stuff is still on its way.  We're supposed to get up to 12 inches here by the end of tomorrow.  And if those predictions don't actually pan out, I'll do my best to pretend that they did.          

Warm Weather

photo by Baxterclaus

I've made the critical mistake of checking Weather.com about 75 times a day during the past couple of weeks.  Perhaps the chilly October we had here in Milwaukee made me jumpy.  I have been convinced that winter was coming early this year.  Quite to the contrary, November was an absolutely lovely month for cycling - very little rain, mild temperatures, and (most importantly) not a single snowflake.  Last year, December came in like loud, drunk, unwanted dinner guest, plastering this fair city with more snow, ice and crud than most places see in an entire winter.  So I guess I've been anticipating winter's return with a lot of trepidation.  Too much trepidation, actually, but I like to worry about things that I have no control over.  And Weather.com hasn't helped matters lately by repeatedly reporting snow storms and freezing temperatures that never materialize. 

What all this boils down to is that I mounted studded tires on my bike a little too early.  I must have had too much time on my hands over the Thanksgiving weekend.  Again, predictions of snow yesterday turned out to be unfounded.  Today is yet another delightful, sunny day, and here I am, riding around the city on slow and noisy studded tires.  I've arrived at the party too early, yet again.  If you see me out on the street, please don't point and laugh.   

But I do think that studded tires are a good idea for anyone who wants to commute during the winter months.  They work well.  I'm a family man on the eve of my 40th birthday.  The thought of wiping out on a patch of ice is frightening enough to help me endure four months of slower riding.  So I don't mind jumping the gun a little.  Now watch - it won't snow until January. 

Winter Cycling Discussion - Thursday, November 19th

I'm all for year-round cycling, and it looks like these guys are, too.  Here is an excerpt from an email I received about an upcoming event here in Milwaukee that will help you get geared up for winter riding.  I've managed to survive my bike commute during the winter here with nothing more than some cruddy old clothes I had laying around the house, so you don't need to go spend $1,000 at REI to make it happen.  Anyway, here's the email:

The Milwaukee Bicycle Collective, Truly Spoken Cycles, The Bella Donnas, and UWM's U-Bike program have teamed up to promote the continuation of cycling in the winter with an open discussion at Transfer Pizzeria. Anyone who is interested in learning more about proper layering, lighting, and riding through snow and ice in the city is invited to attend. Veteran winter riders are also encouraged to stop by and give their advice for what works and what doesn't.

This coalition also hopes to attract a large group of winter enthusiasts to show the city that the cycling infrastructure needs to be maintained just as well as the automobile infrastructure throughout all seasons. Deep, broken seams in bike lanes and excuses like "Plows don't expect people to use the bike paths or lanes" are unacceptable.

Cycling in Milwaukee has doubled in the last two years (http://www.jsonline.com/blogs/lifestyle/60297582.html?c=y&commentSubmitted=y), well above the national average, and the accident rate has also fallen by 400% in the last four years (http://www.jsonline.com/blogs/lifestyle/62694612.html). We aim to promote safe cycling, even through the toughest months in Wisconsin, from staying warm to staying sweat-free to acheiving high visibility on particularly snowy days and dark nights.

The Winter Cycling Discussion will be held at Transfer Pizzeria at 7:00 on Thursday, November 19th. Door prizes and ap-pizza-tizers will be available as well as drink specials.

Be sure to go to this nifty website for more information.

Working Long Hours

Photo by umjanedoan

Being a lawyer can be a busy occupation sometimes.  I have fallen into a dark, bottomless pit teething with the dreaded serpents of long hours and pressing deadlines this past week, so I have unfortunately neglected this blog.  And I would have continued to neglect this blog had I not seen a glimmer of hope this morning in my war against bike thievery.  Last week, I reported on a Rocky Mountain Soul that had appeared unlocked one morning at my bike rack - a notorious hiding place for stolen bicycles.  I had assumed that it was stolen. 

This morning, that bike reappeared, again unlocked.  However, now I'm not so sure the bike is stolen.  To set the scene a little, I usually lock up my bike with both a u-lock and a cable lock while I'm at work.  Unless I have to take my bike somewhere the next morning before coming to work, I'll leave both of those heavy, cumbersome locks attached to the bike rack so I don't have to schlep them around.  That's what I did last night. 

This morning, the owner (thief?) of the Rocky Mountain Soul, who apparently can't scrape together a few dollars to buy his own lock, carefully draped my cable lock over the handlebars of his bike in order to create the impression that his bike was in fact locked to the rack.  I suppose that, viewed from afar, he indeed created that impression.  Maybe that is enough to deter thieves in Milwaukee.  I don't know.  It certainly wouldn't keep a bike from getting stolen where I'm from. 

I felt terrible when I had to yank my cable lock off of the Rocky Mountain in order to lock up my own bike this morning.  I hope it doesn't get stolen, and if it's already a stolen bike (we haven't ruled that out yet), then I hope it doesn't get stolen again.  Two wrongs don't make a right. 

Has Anyone Seen the Bridge? Where's that Confounded Bridge?

One thing I'm good at is making ill-informed accusations (except, of course, in my legal practice, where I adhere to the highest standards of professionalism).  Last week, in the haze of my excitement about the reopening of the Highland Boulevard bridge, I criticized the new and improved bridge of looking "exactly the same as it did when they closed it down last year," noting that the city workers didn't even bother to repaint the bike lane stripes.  With my tail between my legs, I return to you, my friends, with words of reparation.  You see, I was wrong.  Very wrong.  The bike lane stripes were in fact repainted:

Apparently, this bike lane is only for pastry chefs riding frameless bikes with 36-inch oval wheels.  They must have a pretty strong lobby in city hall. 

Not only that, the bridge has other new-looking features, such as this brick wall adorned with an elegant metal railing:

I really felt foolish when I saw this plaque commemorating the bridge being "built" in 2009. And I thought the bridge was just closed for repairs.  They built the whole darn thing!

One thing I was relieved to see this morning was that the classic Miller sign that sits atop the Miller brewery has not been changed to read "MillerCoors" just yet.  I'm glad to see some things stay the same.

Is This Your Bike? (Part III)

Not again!  I've posted on this blog previously about how the bike rack behind my office building has become a depository for what appear to be stolen bikes.  First there was the Schwinn, which has languished at the bike rack, unlocked, for over a year.  Then there was that cute little rascal, the Huffy, which appeared at the bike rack for less than 24 hours and then disappeared. 

This morning, I was horrified to find this Rocky Mountain Soul leaning, unlocked, on the bike rack.  What troubles me most is that this time it looks like the thief nabbed a halfway decent bike (emphasis on the "halfway").  Perhaps the thief is starting to go after higher-grade booty.  And if that's the case, chances are the thief won't be satisfied until he or she has tasted some real high-end componentry.  Who knows.  Maybe I'll show up some morning in the not-too-distant future and find one of Lance Armstrong's time-trial bikes sitting there at the bike rack.  Well, let me tell you Mr./Ms. Bike Thief, you are hereby warned that just like Lance was able to recover his stolen bike with the help of his 140,000 Twitter followers, so too this mighty blog, with its readership now numbering in the double digits (when I include people I'm related to), will help reunite this poor frightened and lost Rocky Mountain Soul with its rightful owner.

Attention Westside Commuters - The Highland Boulevard Bridge Is Finally Open!

In case you weren't aware, the Highland Boulevard bridge has been closed for over a year for repairs. Yesterday, it reopened.  Perhaps it's a testament to how dull my life has been lately, but I can't contain my excitement. 

Listen, this bridge ain't no Golden Gate.  All it does is span some railroad tracks by the the Miller Brewery and the Harley Davidson headquarters.  I don't know what they have been doing to it over the past year, but the thing looks exactly the same as it did when they closed it down last year.  I don't think they even bothered to repaint the bike lane stripes.  But like an old member of the family who resurfaces after a year in rehab, it's good to have him back, warts and all. 

This is good news for me because, over the past year, I have been forced to take a less-than-glamorous detour down a seedy section of Vliet and along a particularly franchise-laden strip of 35th Street in order to reunite with Highland's bike lane, which takes me downtown to work in the morning.  I really missed that bridge.  Before its closing, it had been one of the few bright spots on my commute to work.  I'm glad to have it back.

Photo by Eddie-S

However, not everything is a rosy as it appears.  It looks like the Miller Brewing Company has taken advantage of the bridge's closing to do something devious.  This morning, as I rode past Miller's corporate office, I noticed a new sign on the side of the building which read "MillerCoors".  Now I'm sure those of you who actually read the newspaper would say, "Hey, buddy, that's old news."  Well, let me tell you, it was a shocker.  Not that I give a hoot about Miller.  I'm originally from California, so I drink whatever beer I feel like without feeling like I'm risking some sort of breach of regional decorum.  Nor was it a shock to see those two tried-and-true brand names side by side.  I mean, they both taste like crap anyway, and, by now, we're all used to massive corporations merging together to form even more massive entities in the ongoing race towards global mediocrity. 

I think what upset me most was seeing the capital "C" in front of the sub-word "Coors".  MillerCoors.  Since when is it okay to put capital letters in the middle of words?  Sure, the Germans capitalize all their nouns.  I can live with that.  But why do Miller and Coors have to share the same word?  Are we too lazy to read two separate words?  Are they trying to save space as a result of the economic downturn?  Fifty years ago, they would have called it "The Miller and Coors Brewing Company."  What if we all went around eliminating "useless" words in our speech in an effort to corporatize our speech?  Would my wife understand me if instead of telling her "the baby is crying" I just said, "BabyCry"? 

And the other thing that detracted from my celebration of the Highland Boulevard bridge was the fact that someone (presumably, the police) put one of those big signs which tells you how fast you are going smack dab in the middle of the bike lane.  While I was delighted to learn that I was going 14 miles per hour into a strong headwind this morning, I would have preferred to have the bike lane open to protect me from cars approaching from behind that were no doubt going much faster than 14 miles per hour. 

But that's enough complaining, isn't it?  This was supposed to be a celebratory post.  Those of us who commute from Milwaukee's westside have a good reason to rejoice upon the reopening of the Highland Boulevard bridge!

Cycling to New Spiritual Heights

Photo by Diego Cupolo

I like cycling.  I ride my bike to work for no particular reason other than the fact that I like it.  I'm not a particularly philosophical or political guy.  I'm just trying to have a little fun, that's all. 

My bike commuting addiction is not rooted in any profound commitment to environmentalism.  Sure, getting to work without using a car provides a tangible benefit to the environment by reducing the amount of pollution in the air.  There's no denying that.  But I don't do it to be "green".  That's not what compels me to get out the door on a single-digit February morning.  I'm not one of those "simple living" guys either.  I am generally angst-ridden and prone to extended binges of overthinking.  I can even render the supposedly "simple" act of riding a bike into an overly-complicated exercise in grandeur (witness this blog, for instance). 

My bike commuting is not an attempt to get in touch with my spiritual side either.  I don't debate that a long ride in the country, wherein one has time to take leisurely breaks under the sheltering reaches of old trees, can bring a person to Whitmanesque visions concerning the presence of divine energy in nature or whatever.  I don't usually have time in my schedule for such uplifting jaunts.  More often, I find myself in situations as I did yesterday afternoon, cussing at traffic in the midst of a soaking rush hour rain.  Not so spiritual.

My intentions aren't lofty.  In truth, my motivation for bike commuting is to have some fun, to feel like I did when I was a kid, before life got so darn complicated.  Although I'm too impossibly complicated to ever truly feel like a kid again, bike commuting does permit me let my hair down a little.  I wouldn't be able to sit behind a desk all day playing the role of Mr. Serious Attorney without it.  It also helps preserve my sense of humor, something which we all need more of these days.  Don't forget that during the last global economic depression, we had entertainers like the Marx Brothers to keep us laughing.  I don't know if you've noticed, but movies aren't so funny anymore.  Maybe it's up to us to make ourselves laugh a little. Riding a bike can be funny, if you let it be.

One guy who really has the right idea is co-religionist Baruch Herzfeld.  He runs a bike gemach (loan program) in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, beloved home of Satmar Hasidim and hipsters, two subcultures who both happen to take themselves way too seriously.  Herzfeld, an Orthodox Jew himself (although not Hasidic), tries to help Williamsburg's Hasidim lighten up a little bit by loaning them bikes.  The sign over his small storefront in Brooklyn features a "large Star of David constructed out of 50 or so rubber chickens," the center of which contains Yiddish text stating, "You can come borrow a bike to ride around and have fun."  Says Herzfeld:

“These guys always complain to me. They say: ‘Baruch, what can I do? I’m miserable. Help me out. . . . I said, come to me. I’ll give you a bicycle on the side.”

So far, it appears that Herzfeld has been successful in getting some Hasidim out on bikes.  I'd like to extend my best wishes for Herzfeld's continued success in putting a little levity into people's lives.  If you think Baruch Herzfeld is a swell guy, as I do, be sure to vote for him to receive the Jewish Community Hero Award by going here.

I think we can all benefit from a little more fun in our lives, and riding a bike is a pretty good way to do that.  Just remember, and I'm speaking to myself here (actually, I don't think anyone reads this blog anyway, so I guess I'm always speaking to myself), not to take cycling too seriously because that would defeat the whole purpose.  It's hard not to notice that riding around on expensive fixed gear track bikes has done little to help hipsters from taking themselves and their bikes too seriously.  Instead, just get out and have a little fun.  And if you don't wind up having fun, then at least try to laugh about the fact that you didn't have fun.  And if you can't laugh about the fact that you didn't have fun, at least try to laugh about the fact that you couldn't laugh about the fact that you didn't have fun.  If you can't do that, well, I guess there's no hope for you.  Maybe try the environmentalism thing. 

Here's That Rainy Day

Ok.  I'll admit that this morning's conditions riding into work were less than ideal.  Even though I like to promote bike commuting in both of Milwaukee's seasons (two weeks of summer and fifty weeks of winter), I openly acknowledge that I did not enjoy my commute today.  And I think I'm among friends when I say this, and, as a result, I don't feel that my self-worth is threatened in any way.  Thanks for being a friend. 

Huffy Update!

I'm pleased, or perhaps disturbed, to report that the pint-sized Huffy that appeared one morning at the bike rack behind my office is now gone.  Again, I'm concerned that the growing readership of my blog among bike thieves and other villains is on the rise and that the Huffy thief quickly reclaimed his or her stolen goods once they checked my blog and realized that I had revealed their secret hiding place to the rest of the world.  I'm sorry.  At least there's more room on the bike rack now. 

Sidewalk Riding

I don't know about you, but I have always assumed that it's illegal to cycle on the sidewalk.  Sure, people do it all the time, but I always looked down upon those who did.  (I apologize for being judgmental.)  That's why I was surprised last week when I saw a bicycle-mounted police officer cruising down the sidewalk.  Being the proud grandson of a police officer myself, I have always looked to our police force to set an example with respect to traffic code compliance.  So naturally I was confused by this officer's presence on the forbidden sidewalk. 

Then I took a look at the Milwaukee bicycle code, where I found this: 

"RIDING ON PUBLIC WAYS.  No bicycle shall be operated upon any public sidewalk, pedestrian paths in the public parks, or upon any public school grounds or public playgrounds.  This subsection shall not apply to . . . bicycles operated by police officers in the discharge of their official duties . . . ."

What this means is that police officers can ride on the sidewalk.  It's one of the perks of the job.  I felt a renewed sense of confidence in the men and women wearing our city's police uniform upon reading this ordinance.  I just wish someone would get those guys some cooler bikes. 

Photo by Thunderchild tm

By the way, if you're worried that your kids shouldn't be riding on the sidewalk, don't be.  Fortunately, they are also exempt from Milwaukee code section 102-8(2)'s ban on sidewalk riding:

"This subsection shall not apply to . . . vehicles propelled by the feet acting on pedals and having 2 or more wheels with an overall diameter of 14 inches or more when operated by children of the age of 10 years or under . . . ."

I know my kids love riding their "vehicles propelled by the feet acting on pedals and having 2 or more wheels with an overall diameter of 14 inches or more."  They call them "bikes" for short because they usually can't remember the full, proper name.  Kids are cute that way.

Commuting on the Hank Aaron State Trail

The weather yesterday was delightful, especially in light of the weather we've been having here in Milwaukee lately.  It was sunny and 60 degrees for my ride home. 

I often integrate the Hank Aaron Trail into my commute home.  It adds a couple of miles to my commute, which is a good thing.  How many car commuters do you know who would voluntarily extend their commute home after a tiring day in the office?  When you're on a bike, and it's a fine October afternoon, there is nothing better than sneaking a couple of extra miles into the ride home.  Especially on the Hank Aaron Trail. 

The Hank Aaron Trail follows the Menomonee River from downtown Milwaukee to Miller Park.  A map of the trail is available here.  A good portion of the trail is set on a wide sidewalk running along Canal Street.  In addition to the main trail along Canal Street, there are a couple of side trip loops that take you for scenic jaunts along the river's edge. 

Sections of the river loop are lined with artwork and wildflowers:

Yesterday's ride provided some fine fall colors:

While I typically see a handful of bike commuters and other recreational types using the main path along Canal Street, I usually have the entire river loop all to myself.  This is nice, especially if I want some privacy for grabbing some of the freebies floating down the Menomonee River, like this nerf football:

I always feel like I'm in France when I'm riding along this narrow section of the river loop under the trees: 

I haven't been to France since I was four years old, and I certainly didn't do any cycling (or tricycling for that matter) when I was there at that tender young age.  Come to think of it, I have no idea why this part of the trail feels like France, but it does, so please don't ruin the moment for me.

The end of the trail leaves you at this familiar Milwaukee landmark:

From there, I head up 44th to Wells, which is a good jumping off point for destinations in Wauwatosa, or in my case Sherman Park.  Hey, I'm almost home after a long day at work.  It's Miller Time!

Is This Your Bike? (Part II)

Oh no.  It appears that my previous post has not achieved its desired effect.  Unfortunately, no one has claimed their long lost Schwinn Traveler.  Quite the contrary. 

When I pulled up to the bike rack this morning, I was greeted by this ghastly sight:

At first I thought, who in the world is commuting to the office on a kids' department store BMX bike?  I typed "children and/or unusually small adults working in my office building" into my brain's search window but came up empty.  No, I haven't seen anyone in my building small enough to commute on this little creature. 

Then I noticed that this lil' Huffy, like the Schwinn sitting next to it, was not locked to the rack.  That left two possibilities: (1) Mama Schwinn gave birth last night to the Huffy; or (2) my vast bike thief readership is grateful for my last post because it provided them with an idea of where to stash more stolen bikes.  After some careful contemplation, I'm leaning towards option no. 2 as the more plausible explanation.  At least the Huffy thief had the courtesy to not hog another good parking spot on my office building's cruddy bike rack. 

Is This Your Bike?

This rusty example of 30-year old mass production steel has been languishing unlocked on the bike rack in the parking lot behind my office for over a year!  This Schwinn Traveler, along with its buddy, a similarly aged but slightly nicer Zebrakenko ten-speed, appeared unannounced one morning on the bike rack.  I don't know how they got there, but they stayed there.  Day in and day out.  Through the harsh winter months.  They were always there - two cro-moly sentries guarding the bike rack on a never-ending watch.

Then one day the Zebrakenko disappeared (hopefully to loving foster parents), leaving this poor Schwinn all by its lonesome.  I'm thinking that the two bikes might have been stolen and subsequently ditched at the bike rack.  I'm not sure, but the fact that this Schwinn still remains untouched is either a testament to how honest my fellow Milwaukeeans are or to how utterly undesireable the bike is. 

Although this post has a public servicey feel to it, the real reason for my concern is that this bike is hogging one of the only decent spots on the rack.  You see, the garage behind my office building is equiped with the same miserable bike racks as the Milwaukee County courthouse.  I'd move the bike, but, frankly, I'm a little scared of touching it.  Maybe it has leprosy or something. 

Anyway, if this is your bike, contact me and I'll let you know where it is (for a small fee).

Fancy Riding

If you live in the Midwest, you might be wondering what happened to summer.  I hate to break the news to you, but summer is over.  Gone.  Done.  Bye-bye.  Chicago is reporting its coldest October 13th in 82 years.  Here in Milwaukee we've been wallowing in 40 degree weather for days now with no relief in sight.  It seems too early for this weather, doesn't it? 

Despite the gloomy skies and chilly temperatures, this is still pretty good cycling weather.  I can get to work in the morning without being drenched in sweat.  No need to take a bath in the office bathroom sink upon my arrival to work.  My co-workers are delighted, as are the scores of unfortunates who are unlucky enough to share an elevator ride with me on my way into the office during the summer months. 

As for surviving the colder weather on the bike, I've been getting by remarkably well with a pair of mismatched Afghan wool gloves purchased from some fragrant hippie store in Berkeley back in college (I guess I used to own two pairs of these gloves in different patterns, but now I'm down to one mismatched pair) and a flimsy L.L. Bean windbreaker circa 1982. 

Not fashion plate material - I know - but it works. 

Other cyclists with better fashion sense than me (and apparantly more free time) have seized upon the cooler temperatures as an excuse to display their smart fall wardrobe while cycling.  This time of year, it's all about sweaters, boots, capes, and scarves.  Oh, and don't forget the tweed.  Fancy cyclists love tweed.  Like this "chap":

Photo by greenkozi

I was reflecting about how magical this time of year is, what with its endless fashion possibilities, when I stumbled upon this terrifying provision of the City of Milwaukee cycling ordinance:

"No rider of a bicycle shall remove both hands from the handlebars, or feet from the pedals, or practice any acrobatic or fancy riding on any street."

Now, I went to law school, so I know that the first thing to do when confronted with an undefined statutory term, such as "fancy riding", is to scan nearby provisions in order to determine if that term is defined anywhere else in the statute.  So imagine my surprise when I discovered that the term "fancy riding" is not defined by the Milwaukee ordinance.  Surely, this must have been an oversight on the part of our lawmakers.  (My guess is that the ordinance was not drafted by cyclists.)

In the absence of an express statutory definition, we are forced to rely on common usage of the term "fancy riding" in order to understand the scope of the Milwaukee ordinance.  These days, and especially at this time of the year, "fancy riding" would no doubt consist of riding around in tweed smoking a pipe.  So please restrain yourselves, fellow Milwaukee cyclists, from cycling while fancy, lest you run afoul of Milwaukee Code Section 102-8(5).  And while I'm confident that my usual commuting garb would never be accused of being fancy, there are times when I ride to the courthouse in a suit and tie.  Heck, that's even fancier than tweed!  I hope our lawmakers provide some clarification on this troubling issue in the very near future. 

Bike Commuting - The Last Refuge of Adventure

Bobster855 (from the Library of Congress)

On my way to work this morning, I was making my way from the right side of the street to a left-hand turn lane. A minivan was approaching from behind, so I waited for it to pass me before making my maneuver. As I rode behind the minivan, I noticed that it was adorned with a "Share the Road with Bicycles" bumper sticker. Wow, I thought. Here's a friend! My commute so far this morning has been so lonely and now here is someone who understands me!

As I proceeded forward in the left-hand turn lane, along the driver's side of the minivan, I peered into the driver's window expecting to get a thumb's-up, or at least a wink or something. Instead, what I saw was a grumpy woman with her head buried in her cell phone. Oh well, I thought. At least she had the bumper sticker.

It's hard to "share the road" with anyone, let alone bicycles, when you've got your eyes glued to your cell phone. I sat there for a few moments, waiting for the light to change and pondering the inconsistencies of life. The light changed, and my new friend drove off, still fixated on the cell phone as she entered the intersection.

Who am I to judge? I own a car. I even drive it sometimes, like when I have to go to court in another county. I find driving to be painfully boring. The first thing I want to do when I get behind the wheel is to immediately do something else. Usually I find myself searching all the cavities of the interior of my car for CDs to listen to. I'm not one of those cycling iPod guys, so listening to music while propelling myself down the road at great speed is a delicious novelty for me. I don't even have a "Share the Road with Bicycles" bumpersticker.

So what's the solution to driving while distracted? I have no idea. So many aspects of modern living have become painfully oppressive in their repetition and comfort. Based on old footage from the birth of the automobile era, it looks like driving used to be genuinely exciting. Bad roads, bad suspension, narrow tires, no windows, and lots of mechanical failures. Kind of like riding a road bike with 23c tires pumped up to 120 psi down a potholed Milwaukee boulevard. Nevertheless, driving a car must have been a real hoot back then. Driving was dangerous, and it felt dangerous. Nowadays, driving is still dangerous, but it feels safe.

Maybe that's why I'm so addicted to bike commuting. If I can get 30 minutes of outdoor adventure before and after every workday, I feel a little bit more alive. Cycling still feels a little dangerous, in a good way.

New York Public Library

Bike Parking at the Courthouse

I've had to go to the Milwaukee courthouse the past couple of mornings for work. I don't mind riding my bike to court. Walking through the halls of the courthouse wearing a suit and tie and carrying my helmet and panniers is usually good for a couple of perplexed glances from others. Sure, the court is frequented by bike messengers, but their bulging messenger bags and their rejection of established standards of grooming usually trigger an instant cultural recognition on the part of others such that it is unnecessary for messengers to actually be in the presence of their bikes for them to project an image of bikeness. Not so for me.

I vaguely look like a lawyer, what with my suit and files (although there is room for improvement in my adherence to grooming standards). I'm afraid that carrying a bike helmet and my battered old panniers may undermine my lawyerness, at least in a visual way. Actually, I'm not really afraid. I kind of like it.

Anyway, this post was supposed to be about bike parking at the courthouse, so here goes.

The courthouse has miserable bike parking.

I'm not sure why that is. The rest of downtown Milwaukee is graced with lovely u-shaped bike racks that dot nearly every corner. They are solid racks. Simple and elegant. They don't attempt to make any profound cultural statements. They provide for cyclists without embarrassing them in the process.

For some reason, those racks don't seem to exist anywhere within a 3 block radius of the courthouse (correct me if I'm wrong - I didn't research it too thoroughly). Instead, what you get is this:



I've been near this rack during a strong wind and I was genuinely concerned that it was about to take flight. I'm not certain if it's even attached to the ground. Whereas a layman might think that this rack can hold a dozen or so bikes based on its ingenious front-wheel loading system, in reality, most people haven't locked their bike in such a fashion since they were in grade school in the mid-'70s. Nowadays, people do as the owner of the bicycle in the photo did. They lock it to the side of the rack. As a result, what you have is lots of rack and little useable space.

I usually lock my bike to a pole:


I've seen others lock their bikes to the metal grating which surrounds the undernourished trees which adorn the west side of the courthouse. Almost no one uses the bike rack.

I think I rely on bike racks too much for my general sense of security. I'm always hesitant to lock up my bike to anything other than a designated rack out of some irrational fear that the Incredible Hulk will come along, yank the pole to which my bike is attached out of the ground with one clean jerk, and make off my 20-year old heap-o-crap. I know. It's silly.

That's why the lack of sturdy racks at the courthouse troubles me so.

The court's lack of proper rackage is surprising, especially considering the fact that at least two Milwaukee County judges ride their bikes to work. On second thought, I think they get to bring their bikes into the building with them. I don't blame them. I have a feeling, however, that I wouldn't get away with doing that.

White Light/White Heat

Photo by James Cridland

With the rapidly approaching prospect of complete darkness at 4:30pm, we commuting cyclists eagerly anticipate mounting obnoxious flashing lights on our bikes and wrapping our bodies in unfashionable reflective garb. Let's face it - riding a bike at night during the winter does little to enhance our image as normal members of society. However, lights and reflectors are pretty darn helpful tools in every cyclist's never-ending struggle against getting run over by a truck. So wear those lights and reflectors with pride.

Now is a good time to brush up on what the Wisconsin Statutes have to say about how a cyclist should be seen at night (you can also use this as a sleep aid should you be troubled by insomnia):

No person may operate a bicycle, motor bicycle, or electric personal assistive mobility device upon a highway, sidewalk, bicycle lane, or bicycle way during hours of darkness unless the bicycle, motor bicycle, or electric personal assistive mobility device is equipped with or, with respect to a bicycle or motor bicycle, the operator is wearing, a lamp emitting a white light visible from a distance of at least 500 feet to the front of the bicycle, motor bicycle, or electric personal assistive mobility device. A bicycle, motor bicycle, or electric personal assistive mobility device shall also be equipped with a red reflector that has a diameter of at least 2 inches of surface area or, with respect to an electric personal assistive mobility device, that is a strip of reflective tape that has at least 2 square inches of surface area, on the rear so mounted and maintained as to be visible from all distances from 50 to 500 feet to the rear when directly in front of lawful upper beams of headlamps on a motor vehicle. A lamp emitting a red or flashing amber light visible from a distance of 500 feet to the rear may be used in addition to but not in lieu of the red reflector.

What's surprising is that a 500-foot stream of white light is required for the front of your bike whereas a cruddy little 2-inch reflector is deemed sufficient for the back. I don't know about you, but I worry a lot more about getting mowed down from behind that I do about having a head-on collision with someone. If a car is driving on the wrong side of the road - so far over so as to hit an oncoming cyclist head-on - then the driver is blind or completely drunk, and in either case your front-mounted light isn't going to save you. Sad, but true.

On the other hand, the back of your bike is where you should be mounting a huge flashing neon sign saying, "Caution - crazy person riding a bike at night during the winter. Please, please, please don't hit me!" So here is one of those rare instances where you get extra points for going beyond the letter of the law. Go ahead and get one of those flashing red lights for the back of your bike. Heck, get two of them. However, lest you smugly conclude that you have easily satisfied the requirements of the statute with your new flashing rear light, check the statute once again. Should you elect to mount a rear light, Wisconsin law says you still have to keep your cruddy 2-inch reflector installed on the back.

Oops! I threw that thing out ages ago. Guess I'll be making a trip to the bike shop for a new one.

First Post

Photo by puliarf

Milwaukee is a nice place for riding your bike to work. Really. It is. You get used to the potholes after a while. You gradually create a mental map of every bump and hole on your commute so that eventually you can ride your entire route with your eyes closed and never get a pinch flat or fly over your handlebars. After riding through the winter months, any temperature above freezing feels downright tropical. Around this time of year, you savor warm temperatures but take notice of a hint of darkness encroaching into your late afternoon commute hours and the unsettling splash of autumn color on the leaves.

I grew up in Los Angeles, California. I've commuted on my bike on and off for a couple of decades, in some really nice places where it doesn't snow, like Santa Cruz and Berkeley. Eventually, I went to law school, got married, had children and found myself in Wisconsin. For a while, I didn't ride my bike here. I didn't think I could pull off being a lawyer and a bike commuter at the same time. Also, the winters really scared me. But, eventually, the lure of the two-wheeled commute forced me to figure out the logistics and start riding again.

Milwaukee turned out to be a great place to commute by bike. Traffic is almost non-existent (did I mention that I'm from L.A.?). Riding in the winter is difficult, but doable. There are bike lanes, bike paths, bike racks, bike this, bike that. Lots of good infrastructure without being overbearing and annoying like Portland. I want to ride my bike to work, but I don't want to be more annoying than I already am.

I hope to share some local and some not-so-local news items on this blog. Maybe I'll have something to say about cycling-related legal issues. I'm sure I'll have something to complain about every so often.