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Segundo Congreso Nacional de Ciclismo Urbano, Guadalajara, Mexico, 18 Septiembre, 2009

Listening to my introduction from "Negro", Sept. 18, 2009.

Listening to my introduction from "Negro", Sept. 18, 2009.

¡Gracias por invitarme! Por anticipado, les pido disculpas por mi pobre español. Jamás he intentado hablar públicamente en español, por lo que ruego su indulgencia.

Estoy muy contento de estar en Guadalajara, misma ciudad que mi suegro me explicó, alguna vez fue llamada despectivamente “Pueblo Bicicletero”; pero hoy ese mismo distintivo indica una ciudad mucho más adelantada que atrasada. El ciclismo está disfrutando un nuevo Renacimiento alrededor del mundo. Mi amigo Ted White hizo un corto documental sobre el resurgimiento del ciclismo y le llamó “El Regreso de la Quemadora” (The Return of the Scorcher), un nombre que se le daba a las bicicletas a finales del Siglo Diecinueve porque iban tan rápido que quemaban las calles, de ahí que se le llamó la “quemadora”.

Al reunirnos para discutir ciclismo urbano, es útil recordar que había bicicleteadas en masa de miles de personas en muchas ciudades, incluyendo San Francisco dónde vivo, en los mil ochocientos noventas. En esos días, los ciclistas pertenecían a varios clubes y asociaciones, y cuando en julio de mil ochocientos noventa y seis (antes de la invención del automóvil privado) rodaron ocho mil fuertes, los ciclistas tenían una demanda: ¡asfalto y Buenas Calles! Quien hubiera imaginado que después los ciclistas serian desplazados de esas mismas calles? ¡A veces obtienes lo que pides pero no resulta exactamente como lo planeaste!

Aun más obscuro en la temprana historia del ciclismo está el papel que jugó esa nueva invención, el tubo o la llanta de hule. Hoy en día, el hule se hace del petróleo, pero a fines del Siglo Diecinueve solamente se obtenía mediante la extracción de los árboles de hule en la Amazona o en el Congo. El Rey Leopoldo Segundo de Bélgica tomó control personal del Congo durante esa era imperialista y usó a su ejército para explotar brutalmente a los Congoleños. Eran obligados a extraer cientos de kilos de hule crudo cada pocas semanas, bajo amenaza de ver a sus familias torturadas y asesinadas o perder una extremidad corporal en castigo. Más de un millón de gentes murieron durante este holocausto olvidado, mientras que millones más fueron mutiladas. ¿Qué impulsó esta locura? La creciente demanda de hule en Europa y Estados Unidos de América. ¿Y que impulsó la demanda de hule en los mil ochocientos ochentas y mil ochocientos noventas? ¡Entre otras cosas, la bicicleta! Así que no podemos olvidar que la bicicleta también es un aparato industrial y tiene su propia obscura historia como la mayoría de los aspectos del mundo moderno.

En nuestras modernas ciudades, ahorcadas por automóviles, nosotros los ciclistas somos nuevamente el vehículo más rápido sobre la calle. En lo personal, llevó andando mi bici casi cada día desde hace treinta años. Viviendo en San Francisco, con sus famosos cerros y neblina enfriadora, me volví un experto en utilizar el terreno a mi ventaja. Uno de los placeres escondidos del ciclismo urbano es cómo te revela los secretos olvidados bajo el pavimento. Cuando estás rodando cuesta abajo, te estás aproximando a aluviones históricos que pre-datan la urbanización. Cuando estás pedaleando cuesta arriba, estás dejando atrás aquellos riachuelos y arroyos. En San Francisco el ciclista intrépido de los mil novecientos ochentas–pionero para los muchos miles que empezaron a pedalear desde entonces–estableció muchas de las rutas que ahora son comúnmente utilizadas para evitar subidas empinadas. Un famoso camino se llama The Wiggle o El Meneo por la forma en que vamos meneando por un antiguo caudal, evitando las escaladas empinadas para andar de un barrio a otro mucho más elevado.

En aquellos años pasados, el ciclismo era una experiencia mayoritariamente solitaria. Uno podía andar por muchas cuadras y ver a uno o dos otros ciclistas. Hoy es común encontrar diez a veinte ciclistas amontonados en cada luz roja sobre Market Street, la calle principal de la ciudad. Algunos barrios tienen tanta gente sobre bicicletas que ahora nos empezamos a preocupar de colisiones bicicleta contra bicicleta en las intersecciones.

¿Cómo se convirtió San Francisco en tal capital del ciclismo? ¿Cómo ha logrado convertirse  en un pueblo bicicletero? Considerando sus montes altos y clima ventoso, a primera vista, no es una ubicación obvia para el ciclismo urbano intenso. Pero algunas docenas de nosotros lentamente avanzamos la causa, principalmente ejercitando nuestro derecho a la calle por medio del ciclismo diario. A finales de los ochenta, los mensajeros sobre bici se convirtieron en una subcultura de la clase trabajadora de la ciudad. Se estilizaron como rebeldes y proscritos y claramente rechazaban vidas laborales “normales” a favor de la relativa libertad de las calles de la ciudad. Los mensajeros fueron una población visible de ciclistas diarios que ofrecían una alternativa a los ciclistas cubiertos de spandex y equipo caro y a los ciclistas de carrera, quienes representaban al ciclismo como algo solo para nerds o consumidores adinerados de ciclismo chic.

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My Speech at the Second National Congress of Urban Cycling, Guadalajara, Mexico, Sept. 18, 2009

Listening to my introduction from "Negro", Sept. 18, 2009.

Listening to my introduction from "Negro", Sept. 18, 2009.

Thanks for inviting me! I apologize in advance for my poor Spanish. I’ve never tried to speak publicly in Spanish, so I beg your indulgence.

I’m very happy to be in Guadalajara, which my father-in-law explained to me was once dishonored by the label “Pueblo Bicicletero,” but today that same label indicates a city far advanced rather than behind. Bicycling is enjoying a new Renaissance in most of the world. My friend Ted White did a short documentary on the resurgence of cycling and called it “The Return of the Scorcher,” a name given bicycles in the late 19th century because they went so fast that they burned up the roads, hence “scorching.”

As we gather to discuss urban cycling, it’s useful to recall that there were mass bike rides of thousands in many cities, including San Francisco where I live, in the 1890s. In those days, cyclists belonged to various clubs and associations and when they rode 8,000-strong in July 1896 (before the invention of the private automobile) they had a demand: asphalt and Good Roads! Sometimes you get what you ask for but it doesn’t quite work out the way you plan!

Even darker in the early history of bicycling is the role of that new invention, the air-filled rubber tube or tire. Today rubber is made from oil but in the late 19th century it was only available from rubber trees tapped in the Amazon and the Congo. King Leopold II of Belgium took personal control of the Congo during that imperialist era and used his army to brutally exploit the Congolese. They were ordered to bring in hundreds of kilos of wild rubber every few weeks or have their families tortured and murdered, or even have their own limbs cut off as punishment. Over a million people died during this forgotten holocaust, while millions more were mutilated. What drove this madness? The rising demand in Europe and the United States for rubber. And what drove the demand for rubber in the 1880s and 1890s? The bicycle! So we cannot forget that the bicycle, too, is an industrial device, and has its own dark history like most aspects of the modern world.

In our car-choked modern cities, we cyclists are again the fastest vehicle on the road. Personally, I’ve been riding my bike nearly every day for over 30 years. Living in San Francisco, with its famous hills and cooling fog, I became expert at using the landscape to my advantage. One of the hidden pleasures of urban cycling is how it reveals the forgotten secrets beneath the cement. When you’re rolling downhill, you’re approaching the historic waterways that predate urbanization. When you’re pedaling uphill you are leaving those forgotten creeks and streams behind. In San Francisco, the intrepid cyclist of the 1980s, trailblazers for the many thousands who started cycling in the decades since, pioneered many of the routes that are now commonly used to avoid steep hills. One famous way is called The Wiggle because of how we zig-zag along an old waterway, avoiding steep climbing to go from one neighborhood to a much higher one.

During those long-ago years, cycling was mostly a solitary experience. One could ride for many blocks and only see one or two other cyclists. Today, it is common to find 10-20 cyclists bunched up at each red light on Market Street, the city’s major thoroughfare. Some neighborhoods have so many people on bicycles now that we are starting to worry about bicycle-bicycle collisions at busy intersections.

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Bike Stencils, BiciMakinas (Pedal-Powered Tools) in Guadalajara

On the wall at the Second Annual Congress on Urban Cycling, Guadalajara, Mexico, Sept. 19, 2009.

On the wall at the Second Annual Congress on Urban Cycling, Guadalajara, Mexico, Sept. 19, 2009.

I will put up a real report tomorrow or the day after. Had a great time at the 2nd annual Congress on Urban Cycling here in Guadalajara the past 3 days. Much to report on, including posting my talk that I managed to deliver in Spanish! All to come…. for now, I just wanted to put up these great stencils and save the rest for later… These images were painted by the great folks from CACITA (Centro Autonomo para la Creacion Intercultural de Tecnologias Apropriadas) who are from Oaxaca, where they’ve developed a whole range of amazing pedal-powered machines.

stencil-bici-licuadora-rear_2063

A bicycle-powered food processor!

A bicycle-powered food processor!

Bici Licuadora (blender) for raffle at the Congress.

Bici Licuadora (blender) for raffle at the Congress.

Bici Licuadora in Stencil...

Bici Licuadora in Stencil...

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Biking and Biting by the Bay

That’s what we called our rolling, 4-stop, 4-course picnic last Wednesday. We were only 13 folks since we held it at 3 pm on a Wednesday, but we figured it was a trial-run of a (hopefully) good idea, and that it will be easier to replicate with more people later.

LisaRuth cuts her ever-more famous and always astonishingly delicious bread!

LisaRuth cuts her ever-more famous and always astonishingly delicious bread!

Carin McKay, my erstwhile flatmate, and former collaborator on our Slow Food Feasts at CounterPULSE, was my co-conspirator in setting this one in motion. We started from home, our bicycles laden with good food and drink, utensils, tablecloths, etc., and rode to the bayshore at 24th, known to the City’s Rec and Park Dept. as “Warm Water Cove” but to many locals as “Toxic Beach” or “Toxic Golf course” (back in the day, people went there to get drunk, bbq, play music, and yes, hit golf balls into the bay). It’s next to the Mirant power plant which will be shut down next year, ending a decades-long history of heavy polluting power plants along the southeastern bayshore of San Francisco.

Oh, the bread, the bread!

Oh, the bread, the bread!

After scrumptious gazpacho, along with the bread and a great olive tapenade, fresh sweet butter, and a couple of bottles of red wine to get us going, we headed north along Illinois Street, past the stump of Irish Hill, and through the bizarre suburban landscape of the new UCSF Campus at Mission Bay. On the north side of that blight on the city we stopped at the edge of Mission Creek under a tree filled with defecating birds (one of our friends was nailed as we pulled up). Once we settled in, the second course proceeded with several bottles of Prosecco, Tuna Carpaccio, and a vegetarian analogue, a zucchini marinade with mint and cilantro, lemon and peppers.

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Needed: Climate Change!

Since I’m planning to go to the Copenhagen Climate Change Conference in December, it seems only appropriate that I should show up to local efforts to address the topic. After an intense flurry of dozens of messages sent via Facebook (and Twitter, were I using it, which I won’t) I thought the “Mobilization for Climate Justice” yesterday in Richmond would attract a couple of thousand people or so… But no, there weren’t even 300 people at the rally near the end of the BART line in Richmond. It wasn’t entirely the same old people, but it was one of those political experiences that reward the patient and frustrate anyone who thinks something as difficult as this is easy.

The march starts, led by Henry Clark of the West County Toxics Coalition (in the black hat).

The march starts, led by Henry Clark of the West County Toxics Coalition (in the black hat).

I have friends who have doggedly organized against Chevron for years now, trying their best to connect to the local efforts against toxic emissions and pollution and for environmental justice, so I was surprised at how few locals attended the rally. I joked with Robert as we got back to SF that at least we felt better for having gone, and had to acknowledge that it wasn’t much different than the people who feel better for having gone to church. Leftist demonstrations seem to have fully collapsed as meaningful political forms now, and only the true believers can maintain any sense of efficacy in participation in them.

richmond-protest-signs_1220

Richmond elected a Green mayor last time around, and there's definitely a growing vision of a new life growing here.

Richmond elected a Green mayor last time around, and there's definitely a growing vision of a new life growing here.

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