Tour de GREENbike in Salt Lake City

GREENbike is sponsored by Rio Tinto Mining and SelectHealth.

Public bike sharing has gotten a lot of attention as of late. Much of the recent activity is due to the launch of the New York City system, known as Citibike, which instantly became the largest system in the U.S. upon opening. While the size and impact of Citibike will likely change the landscape for bike sharing in this country, there are other, smaller systems that deserve credit for pioneering the concept, especially in places that are far more car-dependent and less dense than NYC. One of these is the GREENbike system in Salt Lake City, which opened a couple of months ago.

A GREENbike station kiosk.

While, at 10 stations, SLC's system is considerably smaller than the 300+ stations in NYC, it is an important step toward changing the way people perceive of transportation in a sprawling western locale. Utah is a great place to ride a bike, but as in many of the states in the region, residents seemingly mentally associate biking within a recreational sphere of activity, more so than for daily transportation. It is a goal of SLC Bike Share, the non-profit owner and operator of GREENbike to promote bicycle use for short utilitarian trips.

Not a traditional bike rental; prices are structured to encourage short-term use and turnover to other riders. It's simple to do a quick check-in and re-check out in the event that you're running out of time and want to keep the bike longer.

The green paint of the bikes is bright and vibrant.

I visited SLC for a conference and made it an objective to try GREENbike. During a lunch break, I completed what may be the first of what I'll call the Tour de GREENbike, similar to the Tour de B-cycle challenge ride that I completed in Denver during the initial year of Denver B-cycle. The Tour de B-cycle in Denver is a self-supported and self-initiated challenge ride to check out, ride and dock a bike at each station in the system, starting and ending at the same station. Check out. Ride. Dock. Repeat.

Map of the SLC GREENbike system.

After an initial setup through the kiosk interface at a station, my Denver B-cycle membership card worked flawlessly at GREENbike stations; reciprocity of use at any B-cycle-sourced system is a great advantage to annual membership. I rode the Tour de GREENbike in the same way that I rode the Tour de B-cycle in Denver, making my way to each of the stations successively, ending where I began. I don't know if or how SLC Bike Share tracks a Tour of their system, which they likely do not as I don't know if it has occurred to them to promote the challenge, but until otherwise I will stake claim to having done the circuit first. In the case that I was not the first to complete the Tour de GREENbike, I am willing to bet that I was the first to complete the circuit wearing a suit and tie.

Yes, that's me in a suit and tie. I had to present a paper at a conference about an hour after this photo.

I started out on GREENbike number 006, but migrated to several others throughout the ride.

I completed the ride on a sunny day of 77F degrees in about an hour, taking time to explore the city a bit, and to catalog some notable bike infrastructure I encountered along the way. It had been several years since I had last visited SLC, and I'd never ridden a bike there, so it was a great way to experience the city.

Painted bike routes were on several streets downtown. This is something that could very well be done in Denver to direct bicyclists along preferred routes.

This appeared to be a bike box designated to help bicyclists turn left, however I was confused a bit by the location of its placement on the street. It had been only recently applied and perhaps it was oriented incorrectly.

This GREENbike station was placed in former on-street car parking spaces and adjacent to a bike lane. This type of outlay could open up some possibilities in several Denver neighborhoods, but as yet has not been implemented in Denver.

This bike shop was actively promoting GREENbike. A rising tide floats all boats, as they say.

I found that much of the area in which SLC's GREENbike stations are located is well-supported through bicycle infrastructure, though there are a few streets that need improvement or where the traffic volume or speed is too high to be comfortable for the key demographic group of "interested but concerned" riders.

I could tell that much of the bike infrastructure was new or recently installed, so it is likely that SLC has made a lot of advancement to support GREENbike and a growing bike culture. Gleaming bike racks were in abundance, as were people riding. I saw evidence of a thriving bike culture not only in tattooed hipsters on fixies and kitted-out mamils, but more importantly, in family groups with kids riding down well-marked lanes, and casually dressed people on three-speeds with baskets of groceries. Fairly impressive.

I finished my circuit of the Tour de GREENbike and celebrated with a bahn mi sandwich from a food truck in a park buzzing with activity. I'm not familiar with the recent history of bicycling in SLC, but it would appear as though the addition of GREENbike and other improvements is aiming the trajectory of biking toward a brighter future.

Me at the finish line, much better prepared for my presentation after some time on a bike.

Having a bahn mi sandwich in a park following a ride is a great recipe for lunch.

Ah yes. Back to the bike stuff.

No snow, but this ride was a lot colder than it looks in the photo.

Whenever my life gets busied up, this blog tends to take the brunt of neglect. I suppose it's only fitting that if something is going to wither, it might as well be a blog. After all, it's made up entirely of electrons, and electrons don't need much to survive. Still, neglect is neglect. I'll try to put things back on course, at least for the time being, with a potpourri of bike stuff from the hopper.

The Denver area has now officially had snow twice so far this season, yet it hasn't been enough to make fat tires worthwhile. I'm not complaining much, and I have a feeling that a solid blast of snow will be along soon enough. Regardless, my Pugsley remains my most often ridden bike around home as of late.

When I'm at work downtown, I invariably use Denver B-cycle. I do have a fondness for B-cycle's somewhat clunky red bikes, so around this time of year I soak up my appreciation for them before the system is shut down for the year, which this year will be December 14. I'm fortunate enough to need to get around to meetings and other things, so I ride a B-cycle most days. I always look at bikes, and sometimes I even remember that I have a camera on my phone to take a photo of some that I see. Here are a few that caught my eye recently.

The first is a Peugeot mixte of likely late '70s or early '80s vintage, with a lot of carefully chosen new parts installed by an obviously adoring owner. The arcs of the fenders perfectly follow the curve of the tires; evidence of a masterful installation. Plenty of chrome, gold and aluminum with a garnish of honey leather. Nicely done.

A well comported Peugeot mixte. Note the vintage-y, French-y reverse brake levers.

I like how it's all tarted up in a manner only a bike geek would appreciate or possibly even notice.
Gold looks good on a bike.

The next bike spotted out in the wild is a 1992 Stumpjumper FS, which was one of the first production bikes originally spec'ed with front suspension. The Specialized Future Shock was a badge-engineered version of the Rock Shox Mag 20. The frame of the bike was of good stuff; Tange Prestige oversized tubing. The bike also had a full Deore DX group including top-mount thumbshifters at a time when most other bikes in this range had already gone to trigger shifters, which are less desirable to me and others of my admittedly eccentric ilk. Back when they were new, I remember thinking this bike was a great value at about $850 or so, and others must have agreed, because it was not uncommon to see them out on the trail.

Several years ago I rescued a well-worn frame and fork of one of these Stumpjumpers from a dumpster behind a college apartment building on move-out day. I ended up building it into a rigid commuter for one of my brothers-in-law and I still have the functional Future Shock fork somewhere in my shop.

The specimen that I saw still had its original Future Shock fork, but the fork had apparently died and was resting in peace at the bottom of its stroke. The bike is apparently ill-sized to its current rider, with a bottomed out seat and what would appear to be a very long reach to the handlebar. Except for the limitations of the finicky air/oil fork, I would anticipate this era of Stumpjumper FS to live forever, much like its rigid steel ancestors.

I'd be willing to bet that the owner doesn't know this bike is a 1992 Specialized Stumpjumper FS.
Note the nicely yellowed pie plate.  

The last bike that I recently saw and took the effort to capture in a photo is a Surly Pacer in British Racing Green, though the photo doesn't make the most of the color. I went through a phase of a month or two in duration in which I thought a Pacer was probably my next bike. It's got nearly the tire clearance of a Cross-Check, but it's a little tighter, steeper and presumably faster. However, my interest in skinny tires has always been fleeting, and is part of a recurring cycle in which I eventually re-realize I'd much rather go for fatter rubber. This cycle coincides with a renewed admission that no formula involving a faster looking bike actually equates to a faster me.

The Pacer that I photographed had a dropped chain and a sort of loneliness about it. Maybe it was an undue influence of the cold, overcast day. Once again, this model of Pacer is an example of the long line of Surly bikes sporting a nice green hue.

Somewhat forlorn Surly Pacer in British Racing Green.

Riding a bike in the constantly changing environment of the Denver city center can be challenging, but it is a place in which discoveries are made every day. Apart from bike stuff, I like to try to capture some of the other things I encounter, so the following, in no particular order, are a few random things I've found interesting while riding during the past few weeks.

A full-sized American sedan mated to a motorcycle front end. I wonder what it says on the vehicle registration?

"No comment," replied this suburbanite.

A menu from a post-hipster café? A shopping list? A party recipe?

Along the lines of observations while out riding, but in a different vein, are the changing conditions for bikes on Auraria Campus in downtown Denver. Recently, Auraria Campus, which is an unusual multi-institutional home to three higher-ed entities including the University of Colorado Denver, Metro State University of Denver, and the Community College of Denver, opened its first cross-campus bike route, indeed its first area in which a bike could be legally ridden across campus. This is a major step and a huge improvement over a policy logjam reaching back a few decades, an accomplishment for which the campus deserves accolades.

The Curtis Street bike route is marked with diagonal stripes as it crosses a central pedestrian corridor.

Previously, bikes were only allowed where cars were allowed, which meant busy streets and vast car parking lots, both of which are of limited value for reaching actual campus destinations via bike. Although bike racks exist within campus, bikes were required to be walked from the campus perimeter to racks near buildings in the interior. Keep in mind that Auraria is a commuter campus with virtually no on-campus housing, and located in the core of the city. Broad car parking lots are a dominant visual feature, yet students, faculty and staff are ostensibly encouraged to use alternative transportation.

I discovered Auraria's implausible bike policy during my first week on the campus several years ago, when I was pulled over by a bicycle mounted officer and given a warning for riding on what appeared to be a multi-use path that intersects a multi-use path maintained by the City of Denver. I was riding slowly and courteously, and the officer was courteous with me, yet I was incredulous, as I'd never heard of a university campus where bicycling was not allowed.

Bike parking at the North Classroom Building was recently expanded, though it's already filled to capacity.

During the following years, I investigated casually as a student, and then officially as a member of the Chancellor's Task Force on Sustainability. I worked my way through various campus staff and administrators, but the origins and purpose of the bike exclusion policy were hazy and responses generally fell in two groups. One group of responses acknowledged that policies didn't allow bike riding for safety reasons, primarily to remove the possibility of bike/pedestrian collisions, but don't worry, you can still walk your bike anywhere. Meanwhile, squadrons of campus maintenance vehicles–golf carts, small trucks, large trucks, and ATVs–were and are still driven all over campus, driving on sidewalks and paths, weaving around pedestrians, sometimes at high speed. Apparently, somehow these much larger and faster vehicles do not pose a safety concern.

The second type of general response was that the official or campus administrator was completely unaware of policies excluding bicycling on campus, often accompanied by an admission that they had never even thought to ride a bike to campus.

After many years and through the efforts of many people, in the end, the policy logjam appears to be easing. Things seem to be changing for the better. The present situation is far from perfect, but we now have an East-West bike route, and a future North-South bike route has been hinted. An on-campus Denver B-cycle station is even planned for Spring 2013. However, the next logical, critical, yet somehow missing step should be education of campus occupants as to the purpose of the new bike lanes.

Whenever I've been on the Curtis Street bike route, pedestrians and parked service vehicles are omnipresent in the clearly marked bike lanes, even though parallel sidewalks, driveways, or service docks are nearby. Additionally, pedestrians inattentively walk into the lanes without looking, sometimes in front of approaching bicyclists. I don't like to think this way, but without a solid effort to educate all occupants of the campus regarding its new bike lanes, inevitably, any collision will probably be blamed on the bicyclist, regardless of actual fault.

Walking and talking is not uncommon on the Curtis Street bike route.

A delivery truck parked squarely in the middle of both lanes of the bike route, even though a service dock is close by.

To be fair to Auraria, delivery trucks are a common sight in Denver bike lanes outside of campus, too.

New Denver infrastructure and the new Denver bike website

The trucks parked on the sidewalk are there to set up for an event in Civic Center Park.

If you spend any time in Denver on a bike, it's worth your while to visit Denver's first cycle track, located along Bannock Street across from the City and County Building near Civic Center Park. This facility is the culmination of years of effort and represents how far the city has come in embracing the support of bicycling as a transportation mode.

If you happen to ride South from Confluence Park along the Platte River Trail, you will no doubt encounter the large construction site where work is being done to complete the light rail Gold Line to Golden. There are detours along the trail as the project progresses, but are well marked. One infrastructural element that is impossible to miss is a massive steel-arched bridge that is being installed over the Platte River South of 13th Street.

The photo doesn't do justice as to how massive this bridge actually is.

Finally, please note that Denver has a great new website for bike information, maps, guidelines and feedback at http://www.denvermovesbikes.com. The site is packed with useful information and links. Perhaps best of all is a feedback form where you can report a problem, offer input, suggestions or praise related to bike issues. The site also features a project polling survey area. The current poll has to do with bike route signage, so make sure you fill it out. Check it out soon and often.

Goodbye Barnes Dance, hello mayoral candidates

Orange plastic shrouds mark the end of an era.

If you've been in downtown Denver since Monday, you may have noticed that the diagonally facing crosswalk signals have been covered in orange plastic since Monday. The option for pedestrians to cross diagonally at intersections, otherwise known as the Barnes Dance after former Denver traffic engineer Henry Barnes, has gone the way of the dodo.

The Barnes Dance fell victim to the nature of its inherent geometry and disadvantageous timing. As with many of life's challenges, illumination with regard to this instance draws upon the Pythagorean theorem, which states that in a right triangle, the square of the length of the hypotenuse equals the sum of the squares of the lengths of the other two sides. Applied to the Barnes Dance, the distance across the hypotenuse (diagonal crosswalk) is greater than that of either of its sides (perpendicular crosswalks). You might say, "Okay, so Pythagoras says it is farther to cross diagonally than it is to cross perpendicularly. So what?"

Ah, but if that is your response, then you may have forgotten the "disadvantageous timing" part of the first sentence in the preceding paragraph. The timing problem arises with new standards for the average walking speed attributed to pedestrians. Apparently present day pedestrians traverse less ground per second than did pedestrians during the era in which the Barnes Dance came into being, increasing the time needed to complete a diagonal crossing, thus throwing a wrench into the timing of a three phase traffic signal cycle. Slow walkers, whatever their reason, contributed to the demise of the Barnes Dance. However you frame it, the decreased speed of pedestrians equates to a sad commentary on society.

The hypotenuse is no longer an option. Way to go, slowpokes.

In bike news, check out the answers to a bicycle issues questionnaire put to the Denver mayoral candidates by BikeDenver. If you are a Denver voter and ride a bike, it is important for you to understand where the candidates fall in relation to your concerns. Thanks to BikeDenver for this valiant effort to inform the bicyclists of Denver.

Let's encourage the next Mayor to make bicycling in Denver even better.

As a postscript, congrats to Chris at Pavement's Edge on your new longtail bikes. May they carry you and yours far and with fun.

When bikes were called wheels

I ordinarily only post content that I have generated myself; a simple formula of bike-y photos with accompanying text. However, I will bend this self-imposed pattern for the moment, foregoing the former and creating a commentary on content generated by others through the latter. I've been swayed to this action because in the course of research I came across some old editions of a bike magazine at archive.org that were just too amazing not to share. The magazine is so old that it's not from the 21st century or even the 20th century. These archived issues of Cycling Life date from the Victorian Era bike heyday of the late 19th century, when bikes were called 'wheels' and a broad segment of people became acquainted with personal mobility to a degree unprecedented in history.

In terms of raw innovation, influence on infrastructural advancement and, in particular, social impact, there was exponentially more going on in the U.S. regarding bikes in the late 1890s than even the most impressive whiz-bang gizmos or Portland-esque policies of the present bike-related swell of interest. Enormous, lasting changes were ignited at the time, such as the development of light-weight alloys, pneumatic tires and high quality steel in pursuit of building ever better bikes, as well as improved roads demanded of public officials by crowds of bicyclists. It is too often forgotten that nascent motorized vehicles benefited disproportionately from, and later almost entirely usurped these advancements originally championed by bicyclists.

The story of the revolutionary impact of bicycles on U.S. culture and infrastructure begins to emerge with each successive page of the archived editions. There are gems at every turn, such as the fact that in 1896 the U.S. exported a substantial amount of bikes to a number of countries including Holland, Denmark, France and Belgium, that railroads were developing improved ways to carry bikes on train cars, and that the benefits of physical activity for women were being discussed in an open forum, perhaps for the first time. There is even photographic evidence that a multiple rider three-wheeled ancestor of the Surly Pugsley once existed with astonishingly large dimensions. All of these items and more can be found in just the first few pages.

I enjoy just about any bicycle related material. I look forward to the latest Rivendell Reader or Bicycle Quarterly as much as any self-acknowledged bike nerd, but the breadth, depth and scope of Cycling Life, not to mention its deliciously borderline pedantic writing style make anything produced today pale in comparison. A favorite recurring line in each issue:

Cycling Life does not relate unimportant events at great length. Quality outranks quantity in Its preparation. Its contributors are men of sound judgment.

Anyway, enough from me. If you've read this far, consider yourself in the target demographic. Do yourself a favor and check out this treasure of the ages. However, be forewarned; the archive has 1,326 juicy pages just waiting to whisk you away from your responsibilities. You're welcome.

http://www.archive.org/details/cyclinglife00test