Brooklyn by Bike: Staff Reflections on National Bicycle Month

There's a learning and comfort curve to cycling in this city that every cyclist understands. There are laws to learn, upfront costs and scary, aggressive drivers. And for those used to traveling by train, there's a whole system of bicycle-friendly routes to learn in order to get started. But despite all of this, there is a magnificent joy that comes from biking around this town. We would not do it, after all, if it weren't for the joy. And there is perhaps no easier time of year to experience this joy than in the month of May when most of the weather conditions that might dampen the pleasure (pun!) of cycling are noticeably absent. Biting winter winds are long forgotten and neither April rains, nor summer heat are part of the equation. It is almost certainly for this reason that in 1956 the League of American Cyclists established May as National Bicycle Month to “showcase the many benefits of biking and encourage more folks to give biking a try.” Those who dust off their helmets, oil their chains and take to the bike lanes in celebration of National Bicycle Month are met with a better than average chance of cool mornings, clear skies and 8pm (and later) sunsets.

From its past sponsorship of Bike the Branches to its overstuffed staff bike racks, Brooklyn Public Library exudes a great love for cycling. So this year for National Bicycle Month we thought we would invite its staff to contribute reflections of their experiences of biking around town. Like the fine people who offer library goods and services each day, their responses reflect the manifold ways that traversing the ample hills of Brooklyn by bike brings joy and thoughtfulness to their lives. Feel free to share your own experiences and reading recommendations in the comments below!

Michelle: A copy of the Long Island Cyclist from March 7, 1896 calls "wheeling" (as 19th century Brooklynites referred to bicycling) "almost frighteningly epidemic." Imagine casually tossing off that word today? Something to the tune of 30,000 cyclists crossed the Brooklyn Bridge—called by some the "Eighth Wonder of the World", which had been completed just 13 years prior—on their daily commute. Though connected by the engineering marvel that was Roebling's suspension bridge, at the time of the article's writing in 1896, Brooklyn was still an independent city, and cyclists were charged to cross the bridge! It wouldn't be until 1898 when the "Great Mistake" (as proud Brooklynites called it) of consolidation with Greater New York was finally official.

When the common denominator is one of the things I love most (i.e. riding a bicycle), the intersections with other areas of appreciation and fascination are almost as numerous as spokes on a wheel. I've been thinking a lot about Talking Heads and David Byrne riding his bicycle around not only New York City, but cities all over the world. His book Bicycle Diaries hits the sweet spot for me: political, environmental, historical, infrastructural.

Diana: It gets me every time. As I pass the KFC between 27th and 28th Streets on my commute home, the incongruous smell of jelly doughnuts wafting out into the street inevitably inspires a sudden craving. Zooming down the long green expanse of the 4th Avenue protected bike lane, I find my mouth watering and my stomach rumbling, and I start planning what I’ll have for dinner when I get home. I’m grateful every day for the 4th Avenue lane, which has its flaws but certainly beats dodging delivery trucks and other hazards along the wilds of 5th Avenue in Sunset Park. I was biking in the 4th Avenue lane when the 2020 presidential election was called for Biden, and people started leaning out of their windows all around me, whooping and banging on pots and pans in a spontaneous eruption of communal joy. At this point there are many such memories and sensations along the route, and I add to them every time I commute. Whether it’s something as small as an unexpected smell or as big as a fervently hoped-for political victory, my bike commute brings new dimension to my days. (And in order to get jelly doughnuts off my mind (haha), I'll turn to Patricia Wells's Vegetable Harvest.)

Melissa: Living through an ongoing pandemic would make anyone spend a lot of mental energy wondering how risky a given space or activity is, especially someone like me—a bicycle commuter for over 15 years who’s slightly obsessed with city traffic and human behavior.

We humans are generally bad at rationally calculating our true risk in a variety of contexts. As this article explains, "'the more control people think they have, generally, the less worried they are,' said Dr. [Marie] Helweg-Larsen. This is why, for many, driving a car seems safer than flying in a plane." Understandably, over the last year many New Yorkers who would otherwise be taking subways or buses have opted for driving in private vehicles so as to avoid being in densely populated indoor spaces. Of course, cars present another public health threat, it's just one to which we're more accustomed. But here in New York City, we're on track to have the deadliest year for traffic deaths since Mayor de Blasio took office, and one of our boroughs (Staten Island) has been designated the country's most dangerous metro area for pedestrians. This NYC Bike Month, as many of us are willingly putting ourselves back into more group settings, I think it's worth considering our streetscapes and how getting around them can keep ourselves and each other safe inside and out. (For whatever road yourself on, I recommend: Traffic: Why We Drive the Way We Do (and What It Says About Us) by Tom Vanderbilt,Policing the Open Road: How Cars Transformed American Freedom by Sarah A. Seo, Terra Nova: The New World after Oil, Cars, and Suburbs by Eric W. Sanderson andRisk Savvy: How to Make Good Decisions by Gerd Gigerenzer.)

Stephanie: I picked up cycling again after nearly 28 years and it is true what they say: you never really forget. You may wobble a bit as you figure out the whole balance thing out again, but it smooths out pretty quickly. I remember my first ride in January 2020—I could barely go a mile! Then Covid hit me in March and I was knocked out for four months...but the joy of riding crept back and I slowly began to build up my stamina. I credit bike month for giving me the push to really start collecting miles and I loved being part of a team. I bike for fun and to add exercise into my life; I try to go for at least one long ride a week. And I’m proud of how far I’ve progressed! About a week ago I had the opportunity to ride my bike around Central Park. As I was pedaling around—sometimes very slow due to a hill or two reminding me I’m a work in progress, I observed my surroundings. Besides watching out for the professional cyclists zooming around I saw the many ways people utilize this expansive green haven in the middle of a busy city. In the end, I rode for 2.5 hours, breaking 30 minutes for lunch, but the atmosphere made it feel much so much shorter. I ended up with my longest ride to date, 26.4 miles—a marathon distance on a bike. A year ago, that wouldn’t have been possible and now I cannot wait to go out and do it again! (Admittedly, I am still afraid to ride with cars, but having a mirror installed on my bike handle has helped. I'm still learning, so I head to my local bike shop when I have questions. Here are some websites I find useful for getting started: Transportation Alternatives, Bike New York, TrailLink)

Erik: I always say that by bicycle is the perfect speed at which to explore Brooklyn. Walking is great—you get your steps up, you can take a picture. But the close-up intimacy of the experience is limited, geographically speaking. Cars are fine—great for bringing kids along for sure, but they’re very destination-focused; the journey gets short shrift. And then you have to find parking? Total nightmare. My point is with a bike you combine some of the speed of a car (if traffic is a factor, perhaps more) with some of the intimacy of a walk: your eyes, ears and, importantly, nostrils remain open to the world. The surprise-joy-to-mile-ratio of a bike ride is near unbeatable and May is truly a great month to experience this phenomenon. For the first time this year I recently biked down to Ft. Tilden from Flatbush with two friends. We passed through Midwood and Marine Park—two neighborhoods characterized by a gorgeous hodge-podge of architecture and local businesse, sights you'd miss if you took the train or bus or drove the algorithmically suggested route. Once we were finally across the bridge, we luxuriated on the soft sand abutting the protected dunes where the Piping Plovers make their nests in the afternoon glow of late spring. We finally packed it in at 6pm—with daylight still to spare—determined to return via the back lane that lies between the Gateway National Recreation at Plumb Beach and the Shore Parkway. In the approaching twilight, the breeze off the bay carried an intoxicating floral scent that stopped us in our tracks and later sent me in search of a plant guide to determine that the Salt Spray Rose, which flowers May to June, was responsible for this effusion. If you have the time and the inclination, I recommend you smell it for yourself! (And if you're into the idea of a bike-powered adventure, I also recommend the BikeNYC Guide, which has a bunch of mapped routes with suggestions for interesting stopoffs.)