Tag Archives: urban

An Atlanta Story: Bikes Howling Into the Moon as Cars are Stuck

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The September Full Moon

At midnight on a late summer Saturday night, hip-hop music emanated from the traffic-jammed cars surrounding me as I traveled west along Edgewood Avenue with a bike posse. On my first group bike ride, I was both excited and nervous. This ride was supposed to make it across town and back (over 10 miles). Most car-driving Atlantans would be rightly terrified of biking this route. Car traffic, hills, and potholes are enough to scare the average Atlantan. While I was safely helmeted and well-lit, without the collective courage of this group, I likely would have stayed in the boring bar where I started my night. On my own, I could not have imagined cycling across Atlanta. But for that September Full Moon ride, I could have lived forever in ignorance and boredom in my own hometown.

Our motley crew comprised a ride leader on roller skates followed by cyclists of every race and age. We snaked our way through bumper-to-bumper clubbing traffic on Edgewood as onlookers stared at us. Occasionally, a cheerful drunk would greet us with a smile and a “HEY there!” More often, though, car drivers actively ignored us. They were stuck in gridlock; we cyclists were free to weave between lanes. This small gloat eased some of my tension.

Along with the heat, enthusiasm began climbing out of me. Without the layers of car steel as separation, the bumping music sent electric pulses through my body. My Saturday night fever grew, and I felt part of the night’s clubby scene. My bike and I connected with the groove and felt like I was dancing along with the city.

A Night Ride from M+M

Watch for Plates, Grates, Poles and Assholes

That night, the road hazards that first presented themselves became more apparent. Car drivers seem either distracted, indifferent, or actively vengeful. As we made our way to the west side of town, the occasional smell of Mary Jane and intermittent car honks punctuated our ride. En route, we encountered a sharp left turn and an immediate incline which slowed us all down. A shiny red Dodge Charger got behind the slowest rider (me) and began revving its engine. The car was less than three feet away and intimidating. When I reached the top of the hill, the Dodge and I were waiting at the same red light. As we were stopped together, I told the driver NICELY that his revving was scary. He laughed and told me he was “playing.” Then, the light turned green, and the Charger rolled up his window and sped off. This driver was driving recklessly. I noted the license plate; the other cyclists were unphased. While he was wrong to drive like that, the flow of the evening was so good. The road called us onwards. I let it roll off me as we caught a pleasant downward hill into the west side of town.

 

Summerhill Mural

I recalled my high school prohibition from entering this neighborhood. It was not considered safe when I was growing up. Now, here in the West End, was another happening corner. A few cool venues caused slowed car traffic. A whole line of scantily clad ladies was waiting to get inside a club. Meanwhile, crowds poured from parking lots and meandered along sidewalks to bars and clubs. From my bike, the excitement was palpable. That first ride showed me my old town in a new way. The Beltline has impacted the city incredibly by connecting previously segregated parts of town. Now, there are open public spaces to hang out and chill. Walking paths meet with restaurant patios giving  Atlanta a lively and dynamic vibe. I notice this as I remember my readings about legacy residents being displaced by growing rents, especially in southwest Atlanta.

Full Moon Ride November- L5P

Helpful Humans

After we passed the new westside developments, our group found a monster incline around The Gulch. Here I got a real sense of group ride camaraderie. I was sure my clunker of a vintage Schwinn bike was malfunctioning. I found it lying around in my mother’s garage not too long ago. The bike needed TLC, just as I required instruction for going up hills. Oh my god, the HILLS in this town! As I struggled with matching pace with everyone else, I hopped off my bike to push it up the steep incline. A veteran older rider offered to help me. I dismounted and let him take a look at my gear settings. This form of volunteerism was both refreshing and encouraging for me. As I continued to ride, I noticed that there are many good bike Samaritans among the group rides.

No club, dive bar, or café could meet the zest of cycling through Atlanta’s entertainment district on a Saturday night. After the ride, I felt electric. Every cell in my body demanded I dance, move, groove. Thanks to this ride, I felt thoroughly connected and immersed in the city for the first time since my repatriation. While I developed my passion for bike riding in Tokyo, riding where I grew up is a whole new beast. Since that Saturday night, I haven’t seen the city the same way. Since then, I have been hooked.

Get out the Vote Ride (Midweek Roll)

Bikes with the Final Word

Atlanta does not immediately pose herself as a bike-friendly town. The tenor of car driving is aggressive and irreverent towards human life. The public infrastructure is entirely car-based. For the tiny bit of bike infrastructure, there is very little enforcement. Cyclists are left to fend for their own safety. While mutual aid and camaraderie are the natural results of being relegated by the car culture, the future is increasingly anti-car. Cars are pollutants, dangerous to pedestrian safety, and cost us a time tax. They increase the cost of street maintenance, take up too much parking space, and are expensive to maintain. As the city embraces more progressive demands from its residents, the gospel of bike life is spreading. Until then, Atlanta is a car town with an addictive bike habit.

 

On Boulevard NE and Edgewood Avenue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Biking By Shinjuku Station

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About four years ago, I boarded a one-way flight from Atlanta, Georgia to Tokyo.

Today, I fly out of Tokyo (after two COVID vaccines and one negative PCR test) and make my way to visit folks in the Americas. I will return to Japan in some months but still feel nostalgic leaving this place. Despite the Olympics debacle, urban life in Tokyo is surprisingly enjoyable. As a sweet ‘see you later’ I took a friend for fancy high-tea at the Peak Lounge last afternoon. We arrived by bike and parked just across the Park Hyatt. From the 42nd floor, the city sprawled in all 360 degrees around the three pyramid topped towers. We luckily caught a glimpse of Fuji-san as the sun was setting.

              This last evening in Tokyo epitomizes what I love about life in Japan. My daring blue mamachari has been my most reliable companion. After tea, we biked into Shinjuku to see the holographic cat outside of the JR east exit. Though I was biking around the world’s busiest train station, it felt refreshingly care free. Cars are cautious, and a few bike lanes exist. Compared to the United Sates, it is an absolute joy to move around in Japanese urban areas. Here, there are sidewalks, greenways, and crosswalks throughout the city. I have the choice to walk, bike, or use excellent public transport.

              Since I have been here, I cut my self-free from the responsibilities of car ownership. For 3 years, I biked from my apartment to work. The 10-minute morning cycle ride through Suginami-ku included two blocks of street traffic closed off to cars and made available for elementary and middle school students walking to school in the morning. The quintessential backpacks, cute yellow hats, and chatter put me in the right mindset for work. After teaching, I often headed to Inokashira park. The ride there was pure bliss. I pedaled along the Kanda River greenway which has one side reserved for pedestrians and cyclists. As I biked west, on one side was the river, and all around me, a near canopy of trees and flowers.

              The American cities I grew up in and lived in were always car based. Invariably, this made for urban challenges. I once tried to live in Atlanta without a car. As a pedestrian, I sometimes had to walk on tiny shoulders on busy main streets. There were inattentive SUV drivers that endangered my life on every prosaic walk.  As a law student in Baltimore, my experience driving was not much better. The Wire’s portrayal of Baltimore crime is spot on. After searching for directions on Google maps, I had to be careful not to park nor stop in dangerous neighborhoods. Property theft and car vandalism were common in the Inner Harbor area.

              Here in Tokyo, when I don’t bike, I can easily hop on the train. As I explore a new area, I know that I can roam free. I can be certain there is no risk of mugging, nor any need to be over vigilant for my belongings. There is a liberty in physical safety that is totally new to me. As a frequent traveler, this sense of security is transformative. I can enjoy the leisure of getting lost without worrying about my physical safety. It is immensely freeing to focus my mental energy on enjoying a place and becoming absorbed in city life. I notice the bonsai trees on tiny front yards, the torii gates before a shrine, and over-the-top window displays at boutiques. Without worrying ‘do I look lost?’ I can lean into a fun exploration of my surroundings. Anywhere I go, I can always count on a bus or train later.  I am confident that even from unknown neighborhoods, I will eventually make my way home.

              After nearly four years in Japan, I am convinced moving here in 2017 was one of the best decisions I have ever made. While Americans dug into their political partisanship and Trump helped push America to its darkest days, I knew I need a break from America. At the same time, I had little idea of what I would find here.  I wrote a piece for Verge magazine describing my minimal knowledge of Japan, but my enthusiasm for new experiences. Then, I did not know the magic of Tokyo. Being here has given me insights into myself, my adopted country, and the Americas which I watched carefully from abroad. Living in Tokyo has inspired a whole host of ideas on what city life can be. I hope that American car-focused cities look east for some inspiration.