E-bikes: I'll die before I buy one.

I see many more e-bikes on the streets these days.
A shocking number of my friends who used to ride human-powered bikes as primary transportation have switched to e-bikes.
Some of them genuinely need the electric assist to get up hills more often as they've aged.
Others simply like the convenience of riding without having to sweat so much, or ride farther than legs alone could handle.

That's great for them.

An e-bike starts at around $3,000 for something decent and durable. The average e-bike owner spends upwards of $250 a year on maintenance and repairs.

A safe, functioning pedal-powered bicycle can cost as little as $25 used. In some cases, I've seen ads for FREE bikes that people no longer ride. The average regular bike owner spends between $50 and $75 a year on maintenance and repairs, and most regular bike owners can fix their own flats and adjust their own brakes,

E-bikes discourage self-sufficiency. You can't easily fix a flat on an e-bike by yourself, at home or on the road, without using Slime-in-a-can or Fix-a-Flat, or some other unsustainable and noxious chemical aid. Shops that do fix e-bike flats charge upwards of $30 for the service, plus parts. Many newer e-bikes are belt-driven, and there is NO way to deal with a drive belt on the road. You need special tools that cost more than the belt itself.

Now, to be fair, self-sufficiency for bicycle riders was being discouraged long before e-bikes blew up. While I worked at Citybikes, the number of bike riders actually willing to get their hands dirty doing basic upkeep was already dropping, due to demographic and generational shifts that reflected decreasing self-sufficiency across society. But the steep rise in e-bike ownership definitely accelerated that shift, especially in the last four or five years.

I no longer work in the bike industry. Arthritis has done a serious number on my hands. But if I were stuck by the side of the road I could still fix a flat and get home. I've taken steps to ensure that, which include carrying a patch kit, levers and a pump on my bike and choosing to ride 26"/559 wheels because those tires are easier to remove and reinstall. Simple stuff.

This is a rambling rant, inspired by a recent BikePortland.org article about the rise of e-bike ownership and rising demands for electric-powered car infrastructure.

I certainly can't afford to buy an e-bike. But if I could, I wouldn't. And I won't ever own one.
I think self-sufficiency is good for society and good for communities, and technology that discourages both is bad for us. I'd rather fix my own flats on a bike that's simple and efficient, than have to rely on someone else to maintain my bike for me.

Bicycle used to be simple and elegant technology. I will fight the good fight to keep mine going for as long as I can.

(My Centurion Super Le Mans. Eugene, Oregon 1997. I learned how to repair and rebuild bicycles using this as my laboratory, and rode it until it was totaled in a collision. Then, I used my skills to build up a replacement bicycle from parts.)

(The bike I ride now. Still simple and elegant, and repairable at home.)

The pitfalls of being too disabled or not disabled enough

My doctor says that I should ride my bike and/or walk in order to keep my heart and lungs health, and to keep my blood pressure under control and maintain a steady weight.

All good.

I am awaiting a disability decision on a claim I filed last winter.
I filed for disability because a combination of multiple health issues prevents me from doing what I know how to do even half-time anymore, and because retraining programs for anyone over 60 years old are not government subsidized.

There are penalties involved for anyone trying to move around a little to keep from getting sicker, when getting sicker is exactly what the government expects one to do when they are disabled.

Being disabled according to the government's standard means:

-- you're not supposed to medically improve.
-- you're not supposed to medically stabilize.
-- you're not supposed to have fun or laugh or have a social life, basically ever.
-- you're supposed to keep getting worse and die quickly so we don't have to pay you any of the Social Security you've put in over the course of your working life.

On top of that, Social Security will make it so hard for you to see your claim through to a positive outcome that eventually you give up (and please die already).

Well, FUCK that.

I'm still here.
I can't do what I used to be able to do, but I can still laugh and cry and enjoy my time with my beloveds and engage in the life and well-being of my city.
If I can do that sustainably, then by God I will do that.

See you at Bike Happy Hour.

(below: part of a quit I made by hand over 20 years ago. I can't hand sew like this anymore, but I'm glad I was able to make this and I cherish it greatly. Because I'm a human being and I get to have a life, however small and local it may be.)

Bicycle resale end times

The end is near.

😂😂😂

Selling your soul to the devil and then begging for a do-over will only make the devil laugh harder.

Electric cars are supposed to be the great savior of the environment, and the next chapter in the story of wheeled transportation. And I suppose if this had come about thoughtfully and carefully, at a measured pace that would allow people and governments to transition sensibly and sustainably, perhaps it would be more widely accepted by — and accessible to — a larger majority of drivers.

Instead, competing types of cars were introduced at lightning speed before the longer mileage issues were worked out, and before there was sufficient infrastructure to support a nationwide transition away from fossil fuels. And as in so many instances of chest-thumping in capitalism, there were buffoons with too much money and too little consideration for the greater good elbowing their way to supremacy.

And this is how we got here:

This is the Tesla Cybertruck, a monstrosity of steel, excess and testosterone unleashed onto an unsuspecting world by Elon Musk, the founder and CEO of Tesla and a whole lot of other things I won’t bother with here.

A stainless steel hard-on.

This vehicle retails for between $61,000 and $110,000 before add-ons, making it one of the most expensive consumer vehicles on the market.

But that’s not the most interesting part.

Apparently, if you buy a Cybertruck, you cannot resell it during the first year of ownership. If you violate this clause, you must pay Tesla a fine of — sit down — $50,000, and you may be permanently barred from ever buying another Tesla.

  

That’s right.

Selling your soul to the devil and then begging for a do-over will only make the devil laugh harder.

If you Google “used Tesla Cybertruck,” you’ll find a number of these behemoths available for sale, used. Either the owners decided they could afford the penalty, or they already know they’ll never buy another Tesla, or more likely, they got in way over their heads.

I have not an ounce of pity for these buyers, or their remorse. If you’re wealthy enough to buy one of these grotesque, offensive hulks, you’re smart enough to read the fine print (or pay someone to do it for you and translate). 

I also feel no pity for Tesla founder Elon Musk, who has shown himself to be a rich, unrepentant oaf and possibly an antisemite, or for anyone employed by Tesla (nobody pointed a gun at you and forced you to choose this clown act as your employer).

Anyone who earns enough to spend his money this way — and I’ve yet to find evidence of a woman buying one of these things — and buys in has drunk a poisonous brew indeed. You think that buying something like this is going to get you into the same club as Musk or Bezos? Nope. You’re just rich guys aping the super-rich, and you can’t keep up. You could do a lot better, so much more truly good stuff, with your money, and you chose to spend it on this? You don’t have enough political juice to persuade state and local governments to make roadways, parking spaces and garages bigger so you can park your hundred thousand dollar Hot Wheels(TM)  Terminator(TM) edition clown car. 

No pity here.

Coffee Outside 6-15-24: Peninsula Park

I made my way carefully to Peninsula Park for Coffee Outside this morning. The weather was cool and occasionally a little rainy, and I stuck to residential side streets so I could ride slowly and carefully.

Balance issues continue to bother me periodically when I ride, so I tend to keep my rides short and mellow.

We had a nice gathering of folks, some bringing coffee and others brewing on site.

There was a softball tournament in progress, and we could watch the goings on from the gazebo.

A couple of dogs accompanied their people, and were very friendly. 

It was lovely to see friends and enjoy a cool early summer morning. Peninsula Park’s Rose Garden s in full bloom right now and the colors were gorgeous against a swirling, blue-gray sky.

There’s also another Coffee Outside today on Ainsworth, going on till 3pm, at a coffeehouse that’s celebrating an anniversary; but one ride was enough for me and I went home for a nap.

Pedalpalooza Kickoff party and ride

I decided I’d skip Coffee Outside this weekend, and go to the Pedalpalooza kickoff party and ride instead.

I enjoyed myself while I was downtown, bumping into friends and ogling the wide variety of bicycles and other human-powered vehicles.

I arrived a little before 3:30 and enjoyed the proceedings, walking around and snapping photos.

By 4:30, there were several thousand people gathered, filling the North Park Blocks while waiting for the start of the ride at 5pm.

At 5pm, the ride kicked off, cruising slowly to NW Broadway, then turning left to cross the Broadway Bridge. I pedaled along slowly, finding myself surrounded by other riders whose bikes passed me, sometimes with less than  half a foot between us. Once upon a time, this would not have fazed me at all and I would have easily held my line without worry.

Today, though, was my first group ride since before the pandemic, before Covid and Long Covid and everything else. And today, I simply could not feel comfortable holding my line with others passing so close. I got dizzy and a little thrown off, and I knew I would have to pull over and get out of the way. My Pedalpalooza Kickoff Ride was over after four blocks. 

I pulled up onto the sidewalk, feeling sad and sorry, and then I watched as several thousand riders in a dense bunch streamed past me. 

I knew I had made the right choice. I was sad, and also philosophical about it. Long Covid, a long hiatus from riding and the passage of time had taken away some of my comfort, stability and confidence. It had also taken away my stamina. I knew immediately that even if I had felt comfortable enough in that huge crowd, I wouldn’t make it over the bridge and up the hill to Laurelhurst Park, some six miles away. It was all just too much for the rider I had become now.

I waited until the last of the throng had passed me, and then I turned and rode towards the nearest MAX stop. I would ride the train up the long hill to Overlook, them hop out and ride the last two miles home.

Riding alone, I felt less wobbly and mostly held my line. I wasn’t trying my head quickly either way to look out for other riders, and I was riding in a bike lane, and that was preferable by far. 

I stopped at Peninsula Park to admire the roses, most of which are in bloom now. It was a good way to end my evening, and I was able to feel gratitude for being able to ride alongside such beauty as this.

Enjoy Bike Summer, and happy riding.

The depressed used bike market, part two.

Seen today in my FB feed.

Twenty years ago, this bike would have cost at least $1,200. And it would’ve been worth every penny.

Not today.

Ridiculous. 

Everyone seems to be chasing after cookie-cutter, mass-produced e-bikes, while masterpieces like these sit ignored and unridden. Very sad.