I’m not really on any committee. I don’t go to meetings, for a few reasons, including inability to remember when/where they are, and crippling social anxiety. I’m not part of any official bike club or movement. I’m mostly a loner (Dotty), a rebel. But when I’m on the phone with people, I do make a lot of lofty claims about the level of contact I have in the community – I have a squeaky girl voice, so to be taken seriously on the phone is a bit of a challenge.

Today I spoke to a nice gentleman at the MASSDot about the state of the Mass Pike pedestrian bridge in Allston. He informed me that it is the Mass Pike Authority’s responsibility to maintain it, and not the city’s. He also admitted that he did not have the direct number to the Mass Pike authority. No wonder nothing really gets done around here.

I don’t want to jump the gun and get hopes up, but I have ordered a small, battery powered spy cam. I’m hoping to mount it on my helmet in such a way that all the idiocy I witness during my daily commute is captured and useful as evidence in the event that I am struck (again) or otherwise menaced. Not sure about the quality of the cam yet (it was cheap) or the method of mounting, so this plan is tentative, but I’m pretty excited. I have the feeling that attitudes will be completely different if people know they are being filmed. Better, or worse… we’ll just have to wait and see.

I woke up in a funk after a long morning discovering that Justin Mattarocchia’s snore can persevere through poking, kicking, punching, pillow smothering, verbal abuse, underwear snapping, and various chokeholds. Apparently the only thing that works to wake him is the Disappointed Look, which can transcend space, time and human consciousness.

We got back from Gloucester on the commuter rail at about 11pm Sunday night, exhausted. We had taken the T to Beverly in the early afternoon, after outfitting Justin with one of Jordan’s tertiary bikes – a huge  monster of a mountain bike. Calypso just wasn’t really up to the task of taking 180lb of man thirteen miles on finnicky terrain. Krankenberry, and BananaShark, Jordan’s new SWOBO single speed, had no problems.

Once in Gtown, we met up with Dadoo Climbout and his new roommate Eric and proceeded to cruise around the shore, ultimately ending up at Crane’s Beach for some swimming and much drinking of Boat Beer (see: Buttweizer). There simply is no better swimming spot in the North Shore area – the water is warmer (and saltier, for some reason) than at any other beach I’ve set foot on around here, and while clear, it boasts an abundance of life – skates, flounders, crabs of all type, various shellfish, even LIVE sand dollars! We didn’t really take the time to explore all the sea life this time, but in my youth I spend almost every weekend there, harassing the indigenous animals. They have lately fenced off all the interior dunes – a fact which has me conflicted, since while I am 100% behind the preservation of the natural state of Crane’s Beach, many of my fondest memories of childhood took place in those dunes.

Photos C/O Jordan

I’m still trying to put together a larger Phillips 3Speed for Justin, but at this point I’m wondering if the cash I’d spend on it would be better spent on a newer, less heavy, but ultimately still used single speed. I’d love to check out what they have at Bikes Not Bombs, but I’m always working during their hours, and also transporting a bike with another bike is a little tricky if you have to trek from Somerville to Jamaica Plain. I hate admitting to the need, but I may have to rent a zipcar for this journey, and that might just negate the money I’d save by going there. Bugger arr!

Or not…

This blog has fallen a bit by the wayside in the last couple months. This is not because I’ve been low on complaints about the cycling situation in Boston – far from it. Rather, I am feeling a bit jaded about the struggle to instigate change in a city that is so woefully politically and capitalistically corrupt and totally devoid of compassion. Despite the grandiose claims by Tom Menino, Nicole Freedman, Richard Davey, none of the issues plaguing the city when I began my own campaign for change have been solved, or indeed described any measurable improvement. The MBTA is still totally unaccountable for it’s unlawful transgressions and terrible service. Motorists are as abusive and neglectful as ever to the cycling community. Public servants continue to treat cyclists as second class citizens, and people keep getting hit and menaced with no hope of justice from our fundamentally flawed legal system.

True; there are many new bike lanes in the city. What good does this do if motorists, delivery vehicles, and taxis use them as a traveling and parking lane? And they do, every day, all day. True, there are new signs and sharrows indicating that the traffic respect cyclists as vehicles and allow them to travel accordingly. Motorists still honk, swear and menace cyclists – all day, every day. I know, because I am out there experiencing it.

All the work in the world done on the infrastructure of Boston’s roadways will do dick diddly squat to change the mentality of the area. Pedestrians remain aloof, ignorant, and self absorbed. Motorists will continue to be stressed out, wrathful, self important. Cyclists will remain recalcitrant, self-righteous, easily incensed. Public servants will continue to be lazy, unhelpful, belligerent. MBTA drivers will remain under trained, oblivious, and continue to disregard the safety needs of their position.  What we can do about all this… I really have no idea. I have always tried to do my tiny part to instigating a change in mentality – treating others with respect and care, trying not to be easily thrown into a rage by the abuse I suffer daily from drivers. I can keep this up, I think… but it doesn’t give me much hope for change in the future.

To be fair, hope is in short supply right now, for reasons we all know and I can’t bring myself to discuss in this blog. We are inundated with news of the horrors being wrought on our fellow man, our fellow creatures, our very world, by our own kind. I can’t really blame the average person for not having much good will to impart. Sadly, this is probably the point at which we need it the most.

this was a Powerthirst weekend.

I hate energy drinks, I really do. Too much sugar. The shakes, the crash… ew. Let’s not even talk about the taste. But when that’s all you have to mix with your liquor, you make do. And thus began the weekend of Energy Legs.

My friend Justin and I checked out Post Prosperity featuring Sean Stevens’ Pedal-Powered Dance Party and Sustainable Sound at the End of the World on Saturday. Lights, mixing table, and speakers were all powered by dynamo action and the Menergy or Womanergy of the participants.  Justin got to run the dynamo for a while, but I was too far back in line and didn’t get a chance to take the reigns.

Sunday we took the hated MBTA Commuter Rail into Newburyport and spent time cruising around the New England Serengeti – or the Green Belt. Red winged blackbirds trilled around our heads. Chubby-cheeked muskrats scuttled through the grass. Turtles sunned themselves on rocks. I was too preoccupied with the joy of riding to take many pictures, but I did take this one of Calypso enjoying the day under Justin’s buttress.

The only tarnish on this otherwise idyllic weekend was the ride home from Newburyport on the Commuter Rail. I assumed that since the Rockport branch allows bikes on the first train of the day, the other branch would as well. I got up in the wee hours and went to the train, to be faced with a little trollish woman with cheap butterfly earrings offsetting her ill-fitting uniform, telling me that no, despite the fact that this train is almost empty and I could have ridden on it if it’d originated in Rockport, I would not be allowed on. I would have to wait until after 9am, the very hour I am supposed to report to work, to board the train. I told her what I thought about the MBTA’s policies, and her own level of compassion for her fellow man. I waited for the 9:36am train and boarded it. And proceeded to sit for an hour in the station because the train was having ‘sticky break issues’. Ultimately, the train did not arrive in North Station until after 12:30pm, once again proving to me the fallacy of putting any money or trust into this most ill managed establishment.

In synopsis, an amazing weekend; easy on the senses, hard on the legs, and only very predictably disappointing. Hopefully there will be some swimming to report in the near future.

On my way back from my afternoon snack trip, I walked by a scraped up, shirtless biker talking to a paunchy business suit. Obviously the cyclist had just gotten hit by this guy. The older guy was trying to convince the kid that his bike was fine, as the kid looked for obvious damage.

“Take it to a shop.” I blurted. Couldn’t help myself. “Don’t just eye it, take it to a shop.”

“Yeah… ” said the kid, agreeing with me. He then noticed that his break lever was hanging off by a thread. “See!?” he gestured to the older guy.

“Call the cops, now. File a report.”, I said. I was so pissed off that the old dude was just trying to drive away from this.

“Nice shirt..” the biker said to me.

I walked into  my office, peed, and grabbed a bottle of water, running outside to give it to the biker as he waited for the police…

… and he was gone. They both were. Obviously they didn’t wait for the police. I really hope the guy is on his way to the station now to report this. I’m so pissed off.

Wherever you are guy, good luck. And I also hope you were wearing sunblock.

A 64 bus ran the red light right in front of me as I was trying to take off on Harvard Street and Cambridge today, emulating to the very micron the scenario that sparked my crusade against the MBTA. Nothing has changed at all. I am very depressed by this. It is time to get uncivil.

There, I said it. I’m just not that interested. I have an electric kettle that boils water in like three seconds flat, I’ll make my own coffee with it. End of problem, moving on.

Aaaanyway, hullo children! I’ve had a busy and exciting few weeks. And luckily, I haven’t run into a ton of trouble with motorists/buses. There was one particular bus that I seriously believe tried to kill me: I was in the bike lane on Harvard, once again, and the bus passed me just enough to put me halfway down it’s length. It then started turning into the bike lane to approach the next bus stop. I hollered, rang my bell like mad and I could actually see the bored-looking woman driving glance into the rearview mirror and look DIRECTLY INTO MY EYES. Of course, she kept turning. I had to angle into the curb and dive off my bike in order to avoid getting squashed or pulled under the bus. While she was stopped I tried to approach the door to give her a piece of my mind, but she quickly closed the door and sped away, as I stood their screaming with my heart in my throat. I called the MBTA right away to report it, but of course was put on hold for 15 minutes, after which the recording came on telling me they were closed for the day. I fucking give up. I’m just going to start carrying large rocks with me. If it tries to hit me, I will hit IT. I have every right to defend myself.

Other than that it’s been a smashing time for riding this spring. Even the rainy days have been mostly tolerable. Mostly. I rode from my house in Somerville last week to a friend’s house in Waltham, and though it was only raining slightly both before and after my ride, it of course decided to drown me during the 45 minutes it took to go that far. I was dressed nice, too, and I had to show up looking like a grime-speckled drowned chicken. Luckily my friends know what to expect, and generally don’t give me shit if I don’t look like I just walked out of a salon.

This weekend I spent time in Newburyport for a friend’s birthday. We had planned a bike ride, and I showed up expecting to see said friend (who shall remain nameless) on a beat up fixed gear, old road bike or at the very least a cheap hybrid. Maybe I overestimate people. As I rolled Krankenberry off the train I caught sight of him sitting astride a tiny, cheap old BMX with half-inflated tires. My excitement for the bike ride quickly deflated.

That bike-snobbery aside, we had a great time tooling around Maudsley State Park, and though I can’t really vouch for it being a great place to ride (I saw no other bikers and the paths we took were definitely walking only), it was a beautiful place, quiet clean and green. Just hide your booze well – we had to dump half a bottle out because an over-protective ranger pegged us as hooligans and tailed us in. Hooligans! Well, I never!

Sunday was mostly a travel/recovery day but I did have time to clean up and cruise around for Somerville Open Studios, with a late night stop at Redbones for thirst-quenching beer and some deep fried okra. Om nom nom.

Today it is rains again, but it’s also 80f outside. I realize now that I have no ‘hot weather’ rain gear. I opted to just wear as little as possible and let it air dry as I sat in the office, and I wasn’t disappointed.

So, guys… I’m essentially stalled in my activism for the moment. I see that though I’ve been heard, and many pro-bike changes are being made, I’m still making zero headway with that which sparked this drive in me: the MBTA. There has been zero improvement in their observation of traffic laws, their accountability, and their vigilance when it comes to keeping others safe. I’m concerned that it might take gestures possibly viewed as less than civil to really create some recognition of these ongoing problems. Concerned, but not unwilling to take these steps. We shall see.

There’s a whole lot going on in the Bikeosphere lately, what with DOT secretary Ray LaHood’s announcements, and Mayor Menino’s declaration of intent concerning bicycle advocacy in Boston. I almost feel as if all our hard work making noise for the bike community has actually been fruitful. Maybe this small bit of complacency is why I haven’t been keeping up with this ranty blog, but it’s also the fact that this April is treating us so very very well in terms of weather. Do you remember last April in the Boston area? Yeah, we had nine whole days without rain all month. That’s right, 21 days of rain in one month. I think that’s about the time I started planning to move the hell out of New England, preferably to somewhere VERY DRY, like Arizona, New Mexico, or Hell. This year we’ve gotten a couple serious rain days, but it’s been mostly blush and flowers, and breezy days of sun. Fucking spectacular. To the point, I’ve been more preoccupied with riding than with blogging about riding.

But of course, the war isn’t even close to won, despite our victory in battles here and there. I’m still seeing the same negligence on the part of the MBTA drivers, and I’m still seeing dangerous riding practices (though I have noticed an uptick in the number of helmets being worn by casual cyclists).

In personal bikey notes: my roommate Sadiya is learning to ride a bike. She had started learning last year, on a tiny but heavy as hell 10 speed. It was… not very successful. Recently however, the Goondocks has become home to a delightful little coaster-brake Schwinn stingray. I urged her to try this as a training bike – her feet can easily touch the ground, and the coaster brake is intuitive and dependable to a noob biker. My logic is essentially grounded in the idea that this is the type of bike we learned to ride on as kids. She’s doing really well with it. I am so proud!

Cyclist killed by National Guard truck during Nuclear Security Summit.

Humvee driver probably didn’t even see her until it was too late. Those things should be illegal on city streets.

Bikeleague.org Blog » Blog Archive » Cyclist hit by car, VA State Trooper charges driver

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This has happened to me a couple times, and I did call the police. They told me, “I’m sorry but unless you were injured and want to press charges, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

I guess next time I should call a State Trooper, rather than the BPD or other local enforcement agency.