The cycling worlds forgotten children.

“Wrong format.” It was a blunt rejection of a modest proposal. “Anyone who rides their bikes to grab a pack of cigarettes doesn’t read Bicycle magazine, and people who read Bicycle magazine don’t give a shit about people who use their bikes to commute.”


I’d met with Ian to discuss the options for a magazine that would cater to cycling’s forgotten sub-class; the commuter.

“Is that going to be the focus of the magazine?”


It wasn’t. I’d just finished reading an article about why New York magazine had been such a successful, enjoyable read. How the creators knew the energy of New York back then (70’s?) and they’d translated its beauty into insightful articles and well thought-out and penetrating opinion pieces. The same energy that had been missing from countless other city magazines that ended up being a bunch of snobby trust-fund writers talking about night clubs with prison-like consistency, and restaurants that charged $40 per inch of food. I looked at this and thought Boston deserved much better, the laundry list of topics could span for years if we’d only made one at the first round table discussion.

The city was as true to life as it gets. No omnipotent mayors rearranging cities into grids, Boston’s cow paths would remain, and a state legislature that repeatedly sent themselves and contractors to the big house when they attempt to “grid” the highway system. What other city ahs shifting exit ramps? That alone is the most interesting architectural piece in America.

How could a city so aligned in the minds of Americas with racism by way of bussing also be the only place that gay people could get married. How much of a line can Boston walk?

From its roughed-up gulley’s in JP and Allston to the cobble-stone chucks of Beacon Hill and all its western outliers, the culture of people living in the Greater Boston region was, as distinctly homogenized in its uniqueness. These cultures we’re nationality based, they weren’t given to you in a blood line; they were conscious choices, a throwback to a time when neighborhoods said everything about somebody. How they voted, what tax bracket they were in, how they saw the world, and the types of people they married.

And all of these tiny issues that made Boston, Boston were circling around, and intertwined with the morning commuter like nothing else. It was the card between the spokes; it was the elephant in the room.


The cycling commuter isn’t box-able. They’re not all the same. The DUI’ers line up with the Green-minded, and peddle alongside those fitness-junkies who peddle to work because there aren’t parking spaces after 4:30 a.m. in the financial district. The people without cars because Somerville’s ticketing system is a fascist regime, and because those roadways made a bike more efficient than any car could be. Those in the know up here know two things; the bus will save you more time than the T if you’ll only learn to read the schedule, and that bicycles are the fastest way to get anywhere.

But there was still no outlet for the community to rally. In my opinion, communities of like-minded interests can get quite a bit done if they rally, and that usually takes a swift boot in the ass. The larger problem in Boston is that a large part of the 60’s envisioned utopia springs eternal. Older folks with graying hair and polo collars still believe the fairy tales of the drug-induced Marxist theory.

Like communism itself, when its put in to practice it doesn’t really amount to anything of worth. Half-hearted protests, a “bike day” where we all ride down Comm. Ave. with a police escort, writing to our representative. These are all ideas that are supposed to work but of course never do. If not for the benevolent dictator; Tommy Teddybear up in City Hall the cyclists who actually need a legal recognition would be dead in the water, or more accurately, under the wheels of the 66.

What Boston really needs to do is stop holding signs on the common in colorful tribal garb and start throwing some fucking tea into the ocean. In other words, A lot less Cambridge, and a lot more Boston.


For all intents and purposes, cyclers are a second class citizen that does more for a commercial area than motors physically can. We reduce the need for space, we decongest busy roadway and we end up paying more than our share of taxes for things we don’t use.* A more opening commuting community also is a new source of revenue for everyone. Its not all bike racks and locks. We create urban infrastructure, roadways, specialty shops, and reduce the wear and tear on roadways.


You’ll notice I didn’t mention the environmental impact. Less Cambridge more Boston. In addition to my insistence on community lockstep to achieve goals, there’s also a degree of politics. The environment for quite a few politicians is a conversation killer. It ends debate, they shutdown and no one gets anywhere. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my short career it this; cut to the chase, give them the cost and how its going to help them. Mention the rest as icing on the cake when their already on board but for Christ sakes, never let it be the breadth of the issue. Ever.


Cyclists need to, as a community, present themselves as a grouping in existence for the better of civil function, for social progression, and that are fiscally prudent, rather than telling everyone to ride a bike because we’re causing hurricanes. Even if that’s the case, the goal should be to win your position, not say “I told you so, I was right” when its too late. In this position, the environmentalists are more guilty than those who don’t care because their charge is a responsibility they are not taking custody of.


The ends justify the means. As “Tip” O’Neil would say, “all politics is local” and the line is drawn this way, there are winners and there are not winners. This accurately accounts for all gray areas. Take baby steps, hit them where it matters (generally the wallets, sometimes kids), and never get off message. You allow one space cadet to invoke your name without violent repudiation and you might as well hang up your hat. The community is there, our needs our reasonable and our demands are logical as well as cost-efficient. We just need a voice, out many comes one. E pluribus unum. Ride safe friends.

* http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/331734_firstperson17.html

When I see an adult on a bicycle, I do not despair for the future of the human race.

--H.G. Wells

Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride.

- John F. Kennedy

It is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them. Thus you remember them as they actually are, while in a motor car only a high hill impresses you, and you have no such accurate remembrance of country you have driven through as you gain by riding a bicycle.

-- Ernest Hemingway