Maybe mechanics shouldn't be riders

 A mechanic who had been with us for eight years decided that he didn't want to put up with our winter ski business any longer, so he quit. What was interesting about his career here was that he was not a rider when he arrived, and never became one. He had ridden his ten-speed as a kid, but his real interest was climbing rock and ice. Where winter mountaineering had led me to embrace cross-country skiing, reinforced by the fact that racing cyclists were using cross-country skiing for off-season conditioning, Sam never warmed up to skiing and the needs of skiers. And, although he expressed passing interest in getting a bike, he never followed up on it.

Despite what would seem like complete disinterest in the activity itself, he mastered a number of procedures on the latest and most annoying aspects of the modern machine. He successfully set up a few tubeless tires, and competently bled brakes. The things I found irksome did not bother him, because he had no stake in them. They were just procedures to learn and complete. He grasped the necessary skills to cope with a wide range of routine service.

I have successfully done both tubeless and hydraulic brake work. They still piss me off because of the added and utterly unnecessary expense and complication of the essential bicycle, and the way that they warp and modify offerings to those of us who want to refuse the technology. There is little about the modern marvel that I find attractive or even efficient. But Sam was not encumbered in that way.

One of the best mechanics I ever learned from had a lot of trouble staying on his bike. In the eight months that I worked in his shop, I saw him crash at least three times. But you give him a pile of tubing and he could make you a frame, then spec the rims, hubs, and spokes and build you a wheel that would last for years. My other longtime mentor rode a lot, very skillfully, but wasn't a top finisher for the most part. She and her husband were immensely creative and resourceful machinists and fabricators. She still is, although she has far fewer projects going these days. I know that her tastes run to the retro, both the era in which we both started riding, and historically. She started a company that made accurate replica Ordinaries, and owns a draisine. The first fixed gear I rode was one she knocked together in her family's machine shop in 1975. She would have been a strong contender in stage races back when riders were forbidden to accept outside support.

A regular rider will develop tastes and preferences beyond what's harder or easier to work on. I know from talking to my car mechanic that he had nothing good to say about cars after about 2015, and preferably older than that. The techno doodads we get now are fun and convenient, but they're not built to last, or engineered to be easy to work on. Just buy a new one! The phrase applies to just about every consumer product.

I know what I like, not only to ride but to maintain. Someone more devoted to the profession might be satisfied to serve the new while riding the old. I can't be that detached about the degeneration. Through the eons of human existence there must have been millions like me, witnessing in helpless horror the cumulative results of highly popular bad decisions.

Someone who measures their self-worth by their skills with the machinery as it evolves will have more time and energy to master the delicate procedures it demands of them. I do what I have to do. But I got into bikes in the first place because they were simply efficient and easy to maintain, while I focused on the myriad of other things that interested me at least as much. It was his other interests that got Sam to finally bug out and leave this craziness behind.

Know anybody looking for some part-time work as a bike mechanic? The pay's for shit, but the employee discounts can't be beat. It helps if you actually like bikes.

A coded message from AYF

 For years, an American Youth Foundation summer camp in the area had run bike tours as part of its offerings. Camp Merrowvista in Tuftonboro had even had a dedicated bike service staff and an account at Quality Bicycle Products. Many counselors took advantage of this to outfit themselves with Surly Long Haul Truckers or Cross-Checks.

Because the camp was self sufficient, we seldom heard anything from them. For the brief couple of years when we stocked Cross-Checks and Long Haul Truckers in the shop, we were also able to help some of these new Surly owners to prepare their bikes for years of reliable use. Mostly, though, we only knew of them by seeing their tour groups on the back roads.

Curious about the state of the program, I checked the Merrowvista website. What I found reflects the sorry state of road cycling in the United States. First of all, cycling is not featured anywhere prominently in text or photos. I had to dig for it. Then what I read was kind of depressing.

The camp has reinstated bike touring after they dropped it during the pandemic. They refer to this as a suspension, but the way they described their assessment of it, they might have considered ending it completely. Instead, they modified it to make it safer for the campers. In other words, they took it mostly off of the road. It isn't even in New Hampshire anymore. They transport the participants to a rail trail in Vermont. The routes use "rail trails, dirt roads, and scenic rural routes."

The camp is on a scenic rural route. They used to ride from the camp on a circuit around the Ossipee Mountains. On bikes equipped with panniers and safety flags, their tour groups could be seen representing the activity on the roads that were part of their territory here in the Lakes Region of New Hampshire. Now they're gone. The scenic rural routes are just too busy and full of impatient drivers. The danger zone of the immediate shore roads around Lake Winnipesaukee has expanded to take in the roughly parallel routes of 109A and 171.

A little at a time -- or maybe not so little -- cyclists are being forced off of the public right of way that we all fund with our taxes.

In addition to the modified routes, the set of programs that included the bike tour now includes "off-bike activities" for campers not interested in bike touring. The little screen addicts can now engage in "expanded in-camp programs and other Four Trails experiences."

I do sympathize with the difficulties that go with organizing and supervising any group ride on public highways.  A group of adult roadies with some racing experience can manage itself better than a group of young campers who will need more direct instruction. A motorist has a harder time passing a group of riders as opposed to one experienced rider holding a steady line, cooperating with traffic.

The ultimate cooperation with the motoring public is to go away completely, I guess. Thing is -- and I can't say this often enough -- a cyclist is a whole lot easier to pass than a slowpoke motorist who chokes the whole lane for mile after mile. That math doesn't work when the driver is faced with three or more riders. The average speed is slower.  A motorist passing the group has to keep track of the ones near the vehicle when oncoming traffic forces the overtaking driver to have to squeeze into a gap in the peloton to wait for the next opportunity to pull out and around. More likely, the overtaking driver pays chicken with the oncoming traffic while all the motorists blame the cyclists for being there at all.

He travels safest who travels alone. Not always, of course. A lone cyclist on a very lonely road could end up dead in a ditch or even stuck in a shallow grave in the woods if the right weirdo comes along. But in general, a single rider can negotiate with the faster, larger vehicles better than multiple riders. You may feel like you're asserting your power in a group ride that holds back a whole string of traffic, but you're really just building up the fund of grievances against us. The AYF knows this, and has made a strategic decision to preserve what they can of their program in the face of road realities and shifting tastes among the campers and society in general.

A video I watched recently about "why Americans were so skinny in the 1970s" got a lot wrong, but one thing they got absolutely right was that kids played outside and used their bikes to get around. That translated into the bike boom, the cross-country ski boom, and the rise of jogging and running. Kids these days have a lot more sedentary options for their leisure time. Don't blame them for taking them. Teach them something different. However, rampant development has wiped out a lot of the habitat for self-propelled, free-range kids, and professionally crafted fantasies fed to them through their devices have replaced their own imaginations for devising diversions. 

Smaller motor vehicles would absolutely make the roads safer for vulnerable users. They would make the roads safer for other drivers, too. And they could be made more energy efficient, whether they're burning petroleum or using up battery charge.

Dream on. For the moment, a few stubborn roadies continue to hold a little space on the road, while the kids and their handlers keep at least a few younger pedalers coming along. From this little corps of survivors may we launch a new world, safer for pedalers.

Huge beasts facing extinction

 Modern pickup trucks remind me of prehistoric megafauna that we only know from the fossil record. They're weird looking. They're ponderously large. They eat a lot. They're doomed but don't know it. Like any megafauna, they'll kill you if you get too close. They're the bulls. The roads and streets are their china shop.

I've spent my entire lifetime observing the accelerating pace of consumerism as the driving force of global destruction. And maybe we're just like mold on a piece of fruit, living the high life while we destroy our home, because that's our role as decomposers. Our attempts at space flight are the equivalent of launching our spores. Unfortunately, no good fruit lies within a lifetime's travel of our feeble capabilities. Or maybe fortunately.

We might have choices that molds do not. Some physicists contend that we are made up of particles set in motion by the Big Bang, incapable of altering our trajectories. Some biologists contend that we are hardwired to think and act in certain ways. By that reckoning, only some of us are hardwired to believe in predestination; all of us are subject to it.

Those of us whose trajectory and hard wiring allow for the idea that we could alter course from the doom to which we have set ourselves will act in ways that we believe will establish a pattern for a better way of life.  Everyone else will ignore us. Whatever is going to happen will do it anyway. Que sera, sera.

As luck would have it, as gasoline prices shoot upward as a result of the incompetence and mindless aggression of the current regime, it's about to be bike commuting season. That will take a lot of financial pressure off until September. 

Unfortunately, the spike in diesel prices will drive the cost of firewood up again. It never really recovered from the spike in diesel prices from the pandemic. I don't have the energy to cut three or four cords off of my own land anymore. Poor people's fires are a persistent problem in curbing emissions. Sorry about that. I'll have to quit buying lattes, so I can put that money toward a complete solar makeover. Except I don't buy lattes. I buy green beans and roast them in an old popcorn popper. A frugal and resourceful friend taught me that.

Frugality is terrible for economic growth. Product durability is terrible for economic growth. Manufacturers don't want to make replacement parts. They want to sell complete items. Something has to be new to drive demand. New customers will buy whatever they're told is good at the time that they enter an activity. Existing customers have to be convinced that a new product will make them enjoy the activity more than they do already.

A balanced ecosystem is composed of overlapping cycles of imbalance among related elements, like a surge in seed production leading to a surge in small birds and rodents leading to a surge in predator populations. The system runs on death, but that's just life. As soon as one organism innovated by consuming another one, the food chain was born. The human economy doesn't have to run on death and destruction as much as it does, but it's only natural. Our talent for technology leads to larger imbalances than we can control. Sprinkle with a large amount of negative emotions, heat, and serve.

From the shop windows I get to watch and listen to the vehicles that people leave idling, sometimes for as much as an hour, while everyone bitches about fuel prices. Elections are won and lost on the rising cost of living a wasteful existence. The vast majority of people driving today did not live through the long waiting lines and fuel rationing of the 1973 gas crisis, the one that launched it all. It should have been a wake up call for the ages. Instead it was just a sustained inconvenience to most people, that they were willing to pay their way out of through fuel prices that climbed inexorably from thirty cents a gallon to more than a dollar. Nowadays, we would flip a U-turn in the middle of a crowded expressway to get to a place selling fuel for twice that.

There was every reason to start adopting less petroleum dependent social structures, starting more than 50 years ago. The ten-speed bike boom gained some of its power from the idea that healthy, well-fed people in a peaceful country could propel themselves around and gain both physically and economically. Just about everything in the modern industrial economy was stacked against that, though. Transportation planning centered on moving motor vehicles as rapidly as possible through the plumbing of our streets and highways. Sad experience has shown that traffic always manages to exceed capacity, so that ever-widening roads simply choke with more vehicles, but we're having trouble finding our way out of that trap. Planning principles seem to be shifting gradually. Like all vitally needed progress, it is way too slow.

The thing about living a simple life close to one location is that I don't get to experience much of daily life anywhere else. I do know that the local economy is heavily influenced by the affluence of both seasonal and year-round residents. There are poor people, even homeless people in the area, but also a great many retirees who planned well enough to live comfortably here at least for a time. Maybe some of them find funds running out sooner than they expected, but an awful lot of them seem to maintain their lifestyles pretty well. And the seasonal population includes actual billionaires. Bottom-rung billionaires, but billionaires nonetheless.

While the town is usually quiet in the gap between winter recreation and the real onset of springtime, the quiet times throughout this winter and the technical first days of spring have been ominously deserted. While I did extensive work on a nice late 1990s Olmo and a 2008 Fuji carbon road bike this week, the cash register logged daily totals of $11, 20-something, and at least one day of flat-out zero.

A kids' camp in the area brought in the first installment of their heavily abused mountain bikes. I discussed repair versus replacement options with the guy who dropped them off. Given the shabby quality of low-end and midrange components, comparable replacement for a bike they probably paid about $500 for, more than ten years ago would likely cost at least 20 percent more than that. Maybe they got a better deal, buying through a shop closer to them than we are, that has since gone under. The parts spec was already a bit chintzy. In the same price bracket today, it's much worse. So, while these aren't the nearly immortal bikes of the late 20th and very early 21st century, they're still worth paying a bit to nurse along. Abusive campers would obliterate a cheap mountain bike of today.

Well before the pandemic, bike prices were rising much faster than the general rate of inflation. They soared along with every other price during the pandemic, but by the time that the industry could produce enough units to meet the demand from 2020-'21, that demand was gone. Faced with a surplus, bike companies began dumping as much as they could, but the ones producing primarily meat-powered ones are finding that no one wants them anymore. That's an overstatement, but not by much. The vast majority of consumer dollars seem to be going to the many available e-bikes at competitive prices, enticing buyers who only learn later how abysmal the product support is. We're decades away from a support network for e-bikes as ubiquitous as what motor vehicles enjoy. 

Ah well. Onward through the fog.

The difference between bears and humans

 First off, there isn't just one difference between bears and humans. But as I begin to emerge from my own hibernation, I'm forced to contemplate a particular difference: Bears fatten up in the fall and emerge in spring having burned off their reserves during their winter inactivity. Humans who hole up in the burrow for the winter fatten up on all of the tasty comfort foods one can make or buy while huddling close to the fire.

My winter routine used to involve a lot more playing outside. Now, most of my exercise comes from splitting firewood. My house also has a lot of stairs to climb. This is probably all that interrupts a continuous conveyor belt of baked goods from the oven to my plate. It's even worse at work. Unless I have to deal with a busy ski rental day, I have plenty of opportunities to nibble. I even wrote a song called "Snacking out of boredom and depression," about the tedious days when work hours just feel like incarceration.

People are exhausting. What makes a busy rental day interesting is the process of feeding them through the system smoothly and quickly. When the shop is going really nuts, I'll have three or four things going at once, between rentals, calls for reservations, ski service check-ins, and sales questions. When it's kind of a party atmosphere, the time passes lightly. 

A massive workload in the repair shop in bike season does not alleviate the urge to snack. However, thirty miles of bike commuting a day does a lot to melt away the excess calories. Hey, if I'm burning them, they aren't excess.

Daylight Relocating Time began last Sunday. It has the weird effect of making the month of March disappear, as the morning moves back to January and the afternoon leaps forward to April. It's a beacon on the voyage to riding season. A brief spell of warm weather adds to the illusion, but the longer range forecast shows a reversion to more wintry temperatures. New England teaches you to leap at opportunities but not lean too heavily into what look like trends. What season is it today?

While I have switched the clocks and adapted my schedule, I still react to the light more than the official time. It's just as hard to wake up in the dark in March as it was in January. It's not full-on jet lag, just odd moments of time displacement that follow for the rest of the day.

Lacking base miles, and facing weather that might not support outdoor riding, I haven't bothered to get on a bike seat yet, but I have to do it soon.

Kickin' taillights and callin' names?

 Does hostility in American society originate in driving, or does aggression on the road originate in the essential competitiveness and hostility of American society?

Whether I'm in my car or on my bicycle, any journey on the public right of way involves a running critique of the road users around me. It is usually profane. Sealed in my car, I know the other parties can't hear me, nor do I want them to. On my bike, I mostly mutter to myself, while the targets of my ire speed past, sealed in their sensory deprivation tanks. I wonder all the while what they must be saying about me. No hard feelings. It's just how we are. 

When I first heard about the damning video of Alex Pretti behaving less than angelically in an encounter with federal goons days before his street execution by the same or similar goons, I thought that cursing and kicking taillights is such an angry cyclist thing to do. Pretti was an avid rider, well known and liked in the bike scene.

Nearly every road rider has had an incident in which we fought back against motorist aggression in a running skirmish. One guy I met used a penny-farthing as his daily ride, so his favorite move was to ride up to an antagonist stuck in traffic and kick the side mirror off the vehicle. I smashed a frame pump over the trunk lid of a punk kid's car after two of his passengers clammed on me after ordering me off the road. These are things that riders generally do in young adulthood, the prime years for heroics in wars both official and unofficial. But I've known riders as old as 60 who would pop off, yell obscenities, and wave vulgar gestures at offending motorists. As a cyclist, however, he was "young." He had only taken up serious road riding a couple of years earlier. And he was exceptionally spirited. A few years later he got bored with it all, sold his whole fleet, and we haven't seen him since, but he ran hot and hard while he ran at all.

As cyclists, we develop underdog spirit that drives us to keep pedaling in the face of the motorist majority. For most of us it leads to some shouting, some gestures, maybe a fistfight or two. But some riders get more serious about the disparity in deadly potential between massive vehicles that weigh up to several tons, and squishy little humans on conveyances that weigh somewhere between 19 and 30 pounds on average. They actually pack heat. 

I vaguely recall an incident a number of years ago, within this century and possibly within this decade, in which a cyclist caught up to a motorist that had wronged him, and shot the driver, before pedaling away. Bad show, but an understandable temptation. That very temptation is a great reason not to pack heat.

A rider I knew in the mid 1980s carried a .380 in his jersey pocket. I always worried that he might decide to use it. In my own consideration of whether to be that seriously armed, I think about when it would be appropriate. Best I can figure, you only know it's justified at the moment that it becomes too late to use it effectively. Most motorists who are going to kill you on purpose with their car will do it from behind, because they are cowards and bullies as well as homicidal psychopaths. Even with a mirror or a rear-facing camera, how can you be sure that the vehicle setting up to brush you isn't just trying to throw a high inside pitch, rather than eliminate you entirely?

I've had guns shown to me by motorists while we were both still moving. None of them ever got around to actually pointing it at me. In the one or two incidents that led to conversations on the side of the road, no weapons were used at all. If it escalated beyond words, it was just good old traditional playground bully shoving, punching, and wrestling. A gun would not have made my point any better than the foolish fisticuffs did.

Pretti's armament was supposedly visible in his earlier incident, which did not lead to deadly force or charges filed against him, so it seems like carrying was a habit. I haven't seen anything about whether he would do it on rides. But carrying a gun is like buying a lottery ticket. You don't want this to be the day you didn't do either one, in case your number comes up.

When his number did come up, he deemed that it was not an appropriate time to respond in that way. That is so often the answer when it comes to deadly force. It's a risk/benefit calculation every time. The federal goons calculated that they faced no risk in filling him full of lead, so they assuaged their emotions with massive overkill. It's a textbook example of irresponsible gun use. 

The signature vehicle of federal agents is a big SUV. So is the signature vehicle of egregious assholes who like to pick on cyclists, though any motor vehicle will do. We just tend to go with the stereotype of the monster truck as the ultimate emblem of Earth-raping, road-hogging, selfish bastards. Any unprotected human seems weak and puny with nothing but the moral high ground as we face the armored cavalry. Taking a piece off of one of them seems like a righteous blow. We live in that curious space between a nation of laws and the reality that any individual temporarily annoyed could smash us and make a plausible case for why it wasn't their fault. When we do retaliate, we're just as likely to be prosecuted for striking a blow against the sacred property of a driver who threatens us.

At the moment, every citizen opposed to how the regime is conducting both foreign and domestic relations stands in that gap. As with cycling itself, some venues expose you to more constant danger than others. I don't mean side paths and bike parks representing safety. I mean that some places are much worse than others for traffic crowding, social and legal support, and driver hostility. Likewise, if you live where the regime currently sees no value in putting the squeeze on you, it's all theoretical, and perhaps unbelievable. If you're in one of the hot zones, you're under virtual occupation.

In places offering resistance to high pressure from the regime's agents, citizens have an advantage that cyclists do not. They're essentially doing Critical Mass, mobbing the agents with observers and sentinels who record proceedings and warn residents when the goons pull into a neighborhood. It reminds me of songbirds mobbing a bird of prey. Where cyclists draw massive ire with mass demonstrations that slow traffic, mobs of citizens defending their constitutional rights and those of their neighbors draw well deserved praise. It's the same principle of strength in numbers. We need that now. We'll need it for a long time. We'll need to bring it to the ballot box in November.

We'll see what happens. 

Asinine bike law update

 As of yesterday, news sources were reporting that the bike registration bill proposed by Rep. Thomas Walsh of Hooksett had received up to 13,000 negative responses through the link for public comment. He ventured that the bill would probably not move forward at this time.

Regarding the $50 fee, he stated that it was "just a place holder." Pretty hefty place holder there, Bub! A friggin' dollar is a place holder. Fifty smackers is a shot across the bow. Be warned, freeloading cyclists!

According to New Hampshire Public Radio reporting, "Walsh, a Republican who serves as chairman of the House Transportation Committee, said that he proposes the bill as a way to help address the $400 million funding gap in the state's 10-year highway plan." Makes sense to try to dig a big chunk of a $400 million deficit out of the lowest cost and least impactful road users in the state. He probably saw our vulnerability to impact from larger, more damaging vehicles on the road and thought it showed that we're completely defenseless. Now he's digging himself out from under a metaphorical pile of 13,000 angry bodies that tackled him.

In possibly related news, a judge has blocked the termination of motor vehicle inspections, after the (for profit) company in charge of administering emissions testing filed suit. According to the suit, ending emissions testing without EPA approval violates the Clean Air Act. Twenty-one states already do not have emissions testing, presumably with the EPA's blessing. In any case, that puts the average $45 per vehicle back into the state's coffers. I don't know how much of that goes to pay the Kentucky-based company that handles the emissions portion of the annual exam. Some of it must make its way into that beleaguered highway fund.

The latest in asinine, anti-bicycle legislation

 Representatives in the New Hampshire House have introduced a bill to charge a fee of fifty dollars per year to register a bicycle in the state. There is a fine of $100 for non-compliance.

The bill, HB1703, has a hearing in the House Transportation Committee on Tuesday, Jan. 27 at 11:00 a.m. Riders in New Hampshire can register their opposition to the bill at a convenient comment page on the House of Representatives  site. 

Use this link to open the page. Follow the prompts at each dropdown menu to select your desired response. It takes a couple of minutes at most, and is very important to help the sponsors of the bill and the legislators considering it to gauge public response.

Fifty dollars per bike per year. That's every single bike you intend to ride on any road or trail that receives any kind of public funds. It also applies to e-bikes, many of which are ridden by low-wage workers already dealing with astronomical rent costs and low housing availability, along with all the other cost of living expenses.

I would imagine that the sponsors of the bill look at people with a thousand-dollar bike rack and several bikes costing more than two grand each and see a big bucket of disposable income. Add to that the annoyance motorists feel at bikes in general, and recklessly-ridden e-bikes in particular, and you can see why they would propose a fee designed essentially to kill cycling on public roadways entirely. Two of the sponsors are from Merrimack, in the heavily populated, very built-up southern part of the state. The third sponsor is from Hillsboro, still in that "Concord and south" zone. Ironically, Hillsboro was also the site of a very popular 35-mile mountain bike race in the 1990s. RIP the Hillsboro Classic.

New Hampshire Republicans are also constantly looking for ways to levy taxes that aren't really taxes, to make up for the beloved but now catastrophically overstressed property tax system on which the state has depended for more than a century. Coincidentally, $50 a vehicle is what they gave up when they voted to do away with motor vehicle inspections.

The bill text does say that all revenues collected will be given to the state's transportation department for the construction and maintenance of bicycling infrastructure. Greaaat. Only well-to-do and highly motivated residents of New Hampshire will be able to afford the fees, so it will operate rather like tariffs on imported goods: kill demand, reduce the revenues received, and deteriorate the quality of life in general for lower income citizens on which the capitalist economy depends.

Of course there will be outlaws. And how much will law enforcement waste its time chasing rogue riders? On the other hand... it's a guaranteed hundred bucks a pop, so maybe they'll go on a spree. If the bill passes, we are in for a very interesting few months after its implementation.

Then there are the thousands of visitors who come here in the warm months with their bikes. They get a freebie, but will find that a lot of supporting businesses have gone under because of one strain too many on the bike shop economy. As for rental fleets, will they (we) have to pay $50 per bicycle every year to have our vehicles to offer to visitors? By the basic text of the bill, yes. Fold that cost into the rental fee and you encourage renters to do something else with their day, or simply visit Maine or Vermont.

A commenter on social media said "Oh, that's just like New Jersey." I looked up New Jersey's bill. They charge eight dollars per bike. It's still unenforceable and a gross intrusion, but at least a pocket-change kind of gouge.

The New Hampshire bill says that a rider must have proof of ownership and proof of registration on their person at all times to present to law enforcement on demand. Do you still have the receipt for every bike you own? I don't have a receipt for any bike I own, because they're all uniquely assembled from frames and parts. They're like ghost guns of the cycling world, except that they are designed to make life better, not end it abruptly.

I knew a guy down in Maryland who would build entire Saab automobiles out of salvaged parts. They were the old 3-cylinder jobs. No matching VIN on those.

The New Hampshire bill is designed to fail. Maybe it's a piece of protest legislation by representatives who just hate the plague of two-wheelers living it up and "paying nothing." Maybe it's intended to make a lower, but still ridiculous fee like $20 seem reasonable. We'll see where it goes from here. I have been heartened to see the link to oppose the bill posted on social media sites that skew pretty hard right in my area.

It reminds me of a bill proposed in Maryland in the early 1980s, that would have restricted bicycles to roads with a speed limit of 30 miles per hour or less. That would have effectively penned cyclists into residential neighborhoods and downtown areas. It was beaten into the ground by a tidal wave of opposition. I seem to recall that another version floated up just a few years ago and met a similar fate. That may have been in Iowa, which derives a good chunk of revenue from RAGBRAI, even as bike haters derive a good chunk of gut-churning rage at the traffic congestion any large group ride will temporarily induce. Whaddya gonna do?

Please go to the site to add your opposition and stay tuned for updates.