Saturday, July 04, 2009
They can't even regulate tricycles...
Years ago the city of Charleston passed laws to regulate pedicabs. Right from the start, when they used the name rickshaws to describe these vehicles, they got it wrong--a rickshaw is a two-wheeled vehicle pulled by hand; what they were regulating was a 3-wheeled tricycle, a pedicab. Naturally, rather than allow the FREE market to determine the number of cabs, the city put a limit of 15 cabs and then created a bureaucracy to enforce the rules. For a time none of this really matter since no one from the city seemed to know what was going on with the pedicabs or didn't care or where too lazy to do anything about it. In this unregulated vacuum the free market did its thing and pedicabs became part of the landscape. The number of bikes on the street fluctuated based on demand for the service. Even in the busiest of times it was rare to wait over 10 minutes for a cab. Everyone was happy: the hotels, the cab companies, the riders and especially the customers---tax payers. Wouldn't you know it? Since everything was working great the city decides to get back involved by enforcing the law regarding the number of cabs on the street. Probably caused by the new guy from the city charged with pedicab harassment--I'll bet the family farm this guy has never even been for a ride in a pedicab. Of course, they pulled this stunt at the worst possible time...the start of Spoletto. Waiting on a cab went to 30 minutes or more and in some cases NEVER. Now we have a system where there are cabs in the barn, kids eager to ride the cabs and customers wanting to ride and a big fat bureaucracy parked on it's ass right in the middle of the free market. Anyone out there surprised?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Starting all over...
With all the bicycling, I haven't done any running for years, then a few weeks ago I listen to a book on my Ipod called Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. Boy, did he ever do a good job of convening me that we truly are born to run. Lots of new interesting stuff in this book. Did you know that statically from 19 years of age to 27 years of age marathon times improve? That the best times for a marathon are posted by people in their late 20's? then it's not till 64 years of age that you get back down to the 19 year old running level? That's modivation for us older guys. This book also makes a good case that modern running shoes are not preventing injuries and may contribute to injuries by limiting the flexibility of the foot. Runners World found that the number one predictor of running injuries was how much you paid for your running shoes: people who bought cheap shoes had less injuries.
Anyway...I've started to run again and this time I'm starting at the beginning: barefoot trail running with some homemade sandals to use for running to the trail. Of course, nearly everyone thinks I'm crazy and you should see the looks I get on the Greenway. My 2.5 year old grandson Jack is my only supporter, he liked Papa's new running shoes so much I made him a pair. When we went outside to try them out he ran like the wind while laughing and didn't stop for a quarter mile--this whole project has me feeling a little like Jack.
Labels: Jack is the one with the little feet
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Did it rain or what?
Monday, June 01, 2009
My bike taxi turned over 1,000 miles just in time for the city to crack down on the number of pedicabs allowed on the streets. Since I try not to take rides from the kids I'm off the taxi for awhile. In the mean time the tourons have a 20-30 minute wait for a taxi on Friday and Saturday nights. Just another good example of our tax dollars at work, God forbid we let the free market work. Planning a New England ride with Patty and Ron, in August, so with all this spare time I've started training. My plan to take my folding bike on this trip--it's easy to ship-- went to hell after the first training ride. Not even a real training ride. I rode to the bike shop to purchase a new odometer and got a bad case of the sore butt, pain in the shoulders and hand cramps. So it's back to the recumbent...my first training ride on it was to the drug store to get a new battery for it's odometer. My life is one big ass circle, which I ride on different bikes.
The picture is the 2029 Auburn fullback who scores eight winning touch downs to beat Bama 120 to NOTHING--this is the game where the Bama radio announcers leave at half time and ABC Sports switches to Colgate vs Temple.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Move em out...
Riding my bike taxi across the James Island Connector is almost always a challenge. The prevailing winds out of the south make going home hard. The fiberglass seating area of the cab acts like a parachute and going home I'm usually tired, plus the steepest part of the bridge is also homeward bound. Doing 3 mph is a heart racer. I look forward to the occasional day when we get winds out of the north making things a little easier. This bad news picture was taken looking west from the top of the bridge into a storm front. Big black clouds and lightning. The good news: wind and hills seem easy if your worried about being struck by lightning.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Cycle Chic...big success
As mentioned a few days ago my friend Kristan organized a Charleston Cycle Chic ride for the ladies. She put this thing together in the insanely short period of two weeks. I would have bet big money not more than 8-10 folks would show up. Shows what I know. With the organizational help of Twitter the word spread fast and there ended up being over 50 folks on the ride, mostly ladies dressed to the nines--the most high heels King Street has seen on Friday at noon in years.
Okay, everything didn't go perfect. Toward the end of the 4 mile ride a couple of the ladies decided to take a short-cut back to work and a bunch of the folks followed them. We got a little scattered out. This ended up being kind of cool and seemed to fit the spirit of the event.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Two of a kind...sort of.
We both slobber a lot and naps are a big deal. We both like to wave our hands around when we talk but no one listens to us anyway. If we had a barber it would be the same one. He has 3 rolls of fat under his chin and I have a few --but who is counting. On the other hand he hasn't found a job yet but we're working on it. My butt is hairy and his is pink. With a little luck he'll get out of diapers in a few years and I'll never have to wear them.
