The Otherness of Cycling

The NY Times has an interesting article about renewed interest in everyday cycling and fashion.

This presents a chance to follow-up on my post last fall about bicycle chic, and a chance to revisit this fascinating evolution of the bicycle movement.

My mind has changed about the value of treating everyday bicycling as a statement of fashion. Like most of my friends and colleagues, including those who identify with bicycle chic, I dream of a world where all sorts of people can feel safe and comfortable riding bikes for all sorts of reasons. However, I remain skeptical of anything that suggests there is one right way to dress or one right way to ride. And I still feel uncomfortable about the dismissal of the great tradition of cycling as sport (and the accompanying false assumption that people who race on weekends or ride mountain bikes for fun aren't interested in pedaling to work).

But I also realize now that bicycle chic is largely about breaking down the "otherness" of cycling. That riding a bike should be, as the Times article puts it, "as notable an act as drinking a cup of coffee." The goal of this cycling sub-culture is that there be no cycling culture.

Personally, I think this is a great thing. But I can also understand why some people currently enthused about cycling would be threatened by it. You see, here in America we've gotten pretty attached to our bike culture(s). We've built some amazing social communities, friendships, professional networks and art around being self-identified "others." Jeff Mapes' excellent new book Pedaling Revolution: How Cyclists are Changing American Cities documents this very well.

What's missing from the discussion, it seems to me, is honest discussion about what it takes to make cycling great for all people. In the Netherlands, there is no gender gap in ridership, and people of all ages ride bikes without identifying as "cyclists." The infrastructure and policy make cycling so safe and convenient that it is the most logical choice for many trips, whether you're 16 or 76.

In the United States, we now understand that our infrastructure only makes riding a bike logical for a small group of people who are already enthused about cycling: the "others." The "others" are almost exclusively young, fit, white men (and increasingly, young, fit, white women). These are the people who are quite happy with the cycling environment as it is, and who might resist their self-identity as cyclists dissolving into the mundane of everyday culture.

But, there are tremendously positive things happening now in the United States that are beginning to break down the "otherness". Cities are experimenting with new types of bicycle facilities that might appeal to a much wider swath of society. Bicycling is more popular and dignified than it's been since before World War II. Livable streets movements are gaining ground everywhere. The automobile-dominated era of city design is in its twilight. The challenge now is for the bicycle movement to mature fast enough to have a role in the next one.

Even though New York fashionistas are just as alienating and exotic to most Americans as skinny men in lycra, they plant a vision of human-scaled urbanism into the heads of a whole different segment of society. If Northern European-style cityscapes (and the accompanying bicycles/fashion accessories) become popular enough we all benefit, whether we're riding to work in an Armani suit or to the local cyclocross race on the weekend.

GSD Netherlands Climate Change and Planning Blog

My studio is blogging daily from the Netherlands about our project regarding climate change, water levels and Dutch urbanism.

See it here.

Bicycle Chic

There's a new movement afoot in the world of urban bike culture. It seems that the hyper-minimalist fixed gear phenomenon is gracefully ceding its position after a 5-year or so run at the top of the "bikes-are-cool" culture charts. The usurper is a young, feisty upstart known as bicycle chic, which treats the bicycle as a fashion accessory (complete with its own meta-accessories) and measures coolness by how little effort the rider appears to put into the act of riding a bike.

Cycle Chic

Like most cycling sub-cultures, bicycle chic reveres Europe and is thrilled to see itself represented in broader popular culture. Unlike most cycling sub-cultures, the participants of bicycle chic do not come across as giant nerd bombs to the non-cycling world.

But there are strict rules to follow. Absolutely no cycling-specific clothing. No clipless pedals, toe-clips, or anything else that could be described as "gear." Never ride a bike that appears to be less than 15 years old or cost more than $200. Closed-toed shoes if you must, but only when it's cold (and make sure they match the frame color). Never roll up your pant leg, apply a leg band, or in any way alter your appearance for the sake of practicality on the bike. Helmet? Of course not. Messes the hair.

But hey, I applaud the movement. Anything on two wheels is great with me, and frankly the fixed-gear thing was getting a little rusty (not to mention unsafe, with so many novice riders jumping onto the most difficult kind of bike to ride in a city). When the image-conscious latch on to bikes an attractive element of urbanism, the rest of mainstream America can't be far behind. And there's something admirable about mindfully refusing to acknowledge the minor inconveniences of urban bike riding.

However, the whole thing strikes me as a bit disingenuous. For all the emphasis on effortless slackerdom, it takes a lot of work to make it look that easy. It's really just another form of consumerism wrapped in the cloak of a rebellious sub-culture (ie. skate or goth fashion). And the resentment toward the very idea of riding a bike for fun or sport is disheartening. Why is that an adult athlete who seriously practices a sport (and doesn't get paid millions to do it in front of an audience) is met with sneering and mild contempt from others?

But I don't mean to seem too critical. Any cultural shift that recognizes bicycles as a respectable and dignified piece of the urban landscape is most welcome by me.

Here's a small sampling of some of the good bicycle chic blogs out there:

Copenhagen Cycle Chic
Chic Cyclist
Amsterdamize
Cycling Gentlemen

What Newfoundland is Like

This is what Newfoundland is like.

This too.

Ever see that movie 'Whale Rider?' This is pretty much what it's like.

This is what sunsets in Newfoundland are like.

Red Hook: I coulda been a contenda

Actual Size: 120" X 36"

Studio Exercise: Reclaiming Brooklyn's Industrial Waterfront

With its proximity to Lower Manhattan and downtown Brooklyn, panoramic views of the New York skyline, passionate and engaged residents, and colorful history (most famously portrayed as the setting of the splendid 1954 film, On The Waterfont), Red Hook is positioned to be one of New York’s best neighborhoods. In recent decades, it has spawned a unique culture surrounding art, sport and food, and has retained a functioning maritime industrial waterfront economy for over 75 years.

However, Red Hook has many hurdles to realizing its potential. It is underpopulated and underserved by transit and amenities. It is physically isolated and automobile dependent, cut off from the rest of New York by water and the hulking Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. Median income of its residents is sharply below the rest of Brooklyn, and unemployment is over 20%. Its building stock and industrial landscape are decaying. Although the harbingers of gentrification have begun to creep into Red Hook, it remains largely in stasis, poised on the brink of transformation but unsure of its post-industrial future.

A Park I Admire

I-5 Colonnade Bike Park
Seattle, WA

Not only does this park feature my greatest passion in life, mountain biking, but it does so in an urban context in a very challenging site underneath a mammoth piece of highway infrastructure. I love that the park content is user-generated and maintained, and that it unabashedly embraces a single-purpose program. So many public open spaces seem to equate unprogrammed, flexible space with high-quality design, but the result can often be generic and uninspiring (Think of the vast, empty lawns of most suburban neighborhood parks). Even the densest urban areas have leftover space from infrastructure or industrial residue for a park like this. If there's one thing this project teaches, it's that you don't need mountains or acres of pristine land to provide great recreation opportunities.

More info about the I-5 Colonnade Park.

If you like this, you'll probably like this other great example of a sport park in a reclaimed post-industrial landscape.

George Washington (Probably) Slept Here

Studio exercise: Planning for growth in historic Concord, MA

Concord is a town of 17,000 located 18 miles northwest of Boston and within 30 minutes drive of downtown. Most famous for its role in the beginnings of the American Revolution and its litany of influential literary figures, Concord juggles its own historical identity with its modern place as a suburb of the rapidly growing Boston Metro area.

Under the fictitious Fair Growth & Development Act, Concord is expected to absorb 3,398 new residents by the year 2030. How do you add 20% population to a place that is very sensitive to change of any sort? What sort of housing typologies do you employ to accommodate the new residents? And where do you spatially distribute new development that inevitably has an effect on the visual landscape that residents prize so deeply? How can new growth enhance the existing built and natural environments, rather than detract from them?

In short, what happens when old, old suburbs mature?

Spontaneous Alpinism

A walk to the grocery store this morning. 28˚ Farenheit, blowing snow, poor visibility. I opt for thinner gloves and a soft shell jacket, trading warmth for improved manual dexterity and wider range of shoulder motion necessary to wield four fully-loaded re-usable cloth grocery haversacks. Light and fast. No extra clothing or bivy gear in case of an unexpected encounter or conversation on the street. Speed is my greatest safety precaution.

Setting out from base camp, I see other parties and soloists returning. Most are heavily garbed and move with the syncopated gait of one beset with cold and fatigue. They do not even acknowledge me. I begin to question my choice of clothing and lack of face protection, but carry on.

Western Ave. The first landmark on my trip confirms that I am on route. The traffic signal is unexpectedly long, and I am forced to make mini—laps around the cramped curb to stay warm. Precious energy wasted.

River St. From here, my path diverges from the standard, well-marked Putnam St route. From this point on, retreat is very difficult. The blowing snow has welded my eyelids together, and I regret my lack of eye protection. But I feel strong and determined to obtain food for the weekend. I continue.

A series of tricky, labyrinthine side streets and one technical parking lot crossing. I can see
Trader Joes. I arrive safely. But this is not a one way race.

For the return journey, I have four full bags, two balanced on each shoulder. Now, I am glad I chose a soft shell jacket instead of the warmer, bulkier down. The slippery texture of the down jacket makes it very difficult to maintain friction with the shoulder straps of the grocery bags, whereas the soft shell material grips nicely.

The cold is biting as I emerge from the store for the descent. Tired, yet thrilled with my success, I set out. DANGER! Even in my half-complacent state, I am alert to a 6' X 14' ice patch in the parking lot. The only way around would add at least 6 minutes to my journey. Not an option. Without protective gear, I must rely solely on my abilities and experience. I cross the patch without incident.

Upon reaching River St, I feel great relief. The chances of a mishap now are slim. I prepare to cross the busy road, traversing to the well traveled and warmly familiar Putnam St.

I arrive home, numb from the air and from exertion. The expedition has been a success. Warming with a cup of lemon ginger tea, I massage my sore shoulders and reflect on the journey. Just a walk in the snow.

Vamos a la Playa

I just got back from a week of surfing in Costa Rica with friends. Now that's a place where people have the work-life balance in proper proportion. Quite inspirational. Days were busy with surfing, napping, surfing more, looking for food, drinking Imperial ... lots to do. I could easily transform into one of those grizzled, tan gringos that went down there 30 years ago and never left. Danger!

Final Studio Project

The final project for first semester studio is a series of plans for a light rail expansion of the Green Line in Somerville, MA. The plans range in scale from the entire rail corridor to an individual site. The ideas are fairly conventional, which makes sense since the overall goal of the project is to get familiar with representing space in 2 and 3 dimensional graphic language, and to become proficient in planning processes and systems. Overall, I'm happy with how it came out, but I'm looking forward to taking on some more creative and unconventional solutions in the next semester.

(Actual size: 50" X 30")