Origami City

Sprocket has changed me.

I set out with the desire to gather the empirical, and rather I empirically grew in my desire to ride the city. Sprocket is the Dahon folding bike that I have had the pleasure of utilizing while her owners were abroad.  20 inch wheels, 9 speed,  city style handle bars and a 12 second fold and pack into the boot of my hatchback. It has been nothing short of delight.

My initial intentions were to further understand the barriers to entry for commuters wishing to leave their aluminum cages and transition to non motorized transport. The term ‘last mile’ is often used to describe the greatest of these hindrances. This is the transition between the endpoints and the predominant form of transport utilized in a journey. Thus, the walk from home to the station, or the necessary taxi trip from station to office. Multiple leg journeys are tiresome and expensive, playing to the seduction of the motor vehicle. How can bicycle commuting address these ‘last mile challenges’?

Sprocket is only the second bike I have ever ridden. The first was a grand dame; a 30 year old fixed gear vintage bicycle. The Mars Rover. The first vehicle to take me outside of my universe of vehicle dependency. She weighs in at a hefty 18kg and sings a delightful whirring squeak song when we travel in sync. I was unsure how I would adapt to the Dahon, whose caffeine-overloaded composure was beckoning me to weave in-between the traffic of Adderley Street.

What was an experiment in the ‘last mile’ became the conduit to experience every mile. How simple it was to put Sprocket in the car and quickly take a spin around the promenade or zip through Company Gardens for a lunch break. I explored Woodstock, Rondebosch and Diepriver in a single morning. The same way a weathered Capetonian keeps a beach towel in the car, just in case the opportunity to make memories present themselves,  I had Sprocket. Just in case.

Lest the riders of other magnificent machines turn there nose up at the BMX proportions and compact components, let me emphasize that a folding bike can be workhorse when required. The difference is that this rider hydrates with cappuccinos! Two memorable trips of 20km+ took Sprocket and I to the edges of the city. My first long commute unfolded (!) up the west coast as I explored that most odd occurrence in our city: the heroic MyCiti bus network and its side kick cycle route winding up to the urban edge at Eden on the Bay. It was leisurely, exquisite and suited me perfectly to pop my bike in the back of a friend’s car after a surf.  

The second long commute was a joyous exploration of the cities lesser know cycle paths. I'm still looking for adjectives that can describe a trip where the destination is not fixed. Quite the antithesis of the last mile, for which this agile wanderer was well suited.

The question is not what can a folding bike do. Rather, what will I do without one when I return Sprocket to her owner?

1-800-U-STORE

Months ago when I vowed to uncover the barriers to entry for car lovers to move to cycling, I didn't think the answer would be as simple as one word.

Stuff.

I took on the mammoth task of cleaning our car this weekend. What a joy it is to drive around in my own personal mobile storage unit. Truly. I have a beach towel, cozzie, fleece jacket and beanie at hand for every Cape Town weather condition. Breath mints, a hairbrush, a pair of flats (girls applaud), extra lipgloss and a range of music to mentally prepare myself for using any of the listed items. That's all to be found upfront. Behind the drivers seat you can find warm jackets for kids, extra shoes (unisex so no child has an excuse) water, reading material and at least 2 hats. Crushed nik-naks are optional extras.

I am grateful that storage costs will be going down by 15c/litre on Wednesday.

When I ride my bicycle I have as little as possible. I even reluctantly removed my beloved R2D2 keyring so as to lighten the load. My diary, my phone and some pens. I couldn't be happier.

But..but..but.. you say, what happens if I need all that STUFF and its not there? Then I don't have it. I'll borrow, I'll go without, and I can neither confirm nor deny that I may have just swum in my undergarments when required!

After the big car clean up was complete, I put very little back in.
I have vowed to only take only what I need. This may be the very sustainability message the bike will convey most effectively.

Come ride with me and let go of stuff.

A refreshing blend with great legs

There are few ways that cycling activism finds more scenic expression than on a Bikes n Wines tour.
The equation is perfect. Scenic winelands in the middle distance, bikes, helmets and refreshments all laid out. Just add cycling enthusiasts. Every opportunity to introduce people to cycling should be embraced.

Today's wine taster is tomorrows urban commuter.

The 21km mountain bike trail advertised as the 'Adventure Route' notes that the course is indeed challenging. By mountain bike standards, there was little in the way of technical difficulty although an above average fitness was an asset on the hill climbs. Our motley crew of adventurers set off promptly at 8:30am from the centre of Cape Town. Not by bike, but initially by train.

The hour long MetroRail train ride to the Stellenbosch winelands was the perfect way to begin our carbon neutral bicycle tour. For many of the participants, both local and international, it was their first experience of South African public transport and the discussions in the carriage bore evidinces of a lack of understanding of what Cape Town was really about. The train was clean, our guides were very helpful, yet the realities of life for the the majority of citizens in the western cape clickity clacked past our window and could not be ignored.

Upon our arrival at Vlottenburg station we walked a short way to the bike shed, our tour was already well underway and I was glad for established banter and casual jeering as we were allocated bikes and helmets. I'm grateful to the guides who summed up my riding ability and matched me with a smaller more nimble bike. We received a short briefing on gearing and safety and, once assembled, we set off as 11 intrepid adventurers ready to be refreshed with water and wine.

On a side note, the combination of alcohol and bike riding was a concern to me initially. Would I be okay to ride after visiting 3 wine farms? The answer is yes of course. The staff who received us so warmly at each stop gave hospitality generously while showing a calculated and subtle restraint while pouring. We were just tasting after all!

As we set off from the first stop, my companion noticed that her bike had been moved from her original spot. She then noticed that her front tyre had been replaced on account of a slow leak discovered by the guide. Thorns.
While we were tasting, the guides were ensuring the bikes were ready for the next leg of the journey! In addition to assisting us in navigating both urban and natural landscapes, they had an even more challenging task. It appears that I was the only participant who interpreted the term 'challenging ride' to mean 'bring cycling shorts' in addition to eating a hearlty carb-meal the night before (..sorry Tim). At least 3 of our participants couldn't remember when last they had cycled. The guides were so gratious and encouraging, even as bikes were pushed and expletives voiced. Last nights wine drinker is todays cyclist.

Our final stop was a surprise.
The hills had ended, lunch was concluded and as we headed back to the shed to say our goodbyes, we came upon a distillery. I don't care much for brandy, but to have been beckoned into a building with such history and elegance was appeal enough. It was a wonderful way to say goodbye to new friends and sneak in a Charlotte Rhys tainted comfort break before stepping back onto Metrorail.

The train ride back to Cape Town saw naps taken and numbers shared. I had a chance to speak more with our guides about their personal journey into cycling. When a group such as Bikes n Wines cares about carbon neutrality, you're sure to find they are not neutral when it comes to other issues of community importance. When not busy with bike tours, our guides are involved with raising up youngsters in and through cycling. It was encouraging and heartning to know that the same love of cycling that had helped more privileged folks up a winelands hill is helping to raise the youth over more formidable obstacles.

Today's cyclist is tomorrows urban leader.

*Thanks to Quintin and the team at Bikes n Wines for allowing me the opportunity to enjoy the winelands from a saddle.

Contested spaces. Contested lines

I proudly handed out my first bicycle map today. Thousands of hours of research, conversations and what I know to be hard fought battles to make cycling a more viable travel option in Cape Town.
On a map. In your pocket.

I have so enjoyed exploring these routes, knowing where the separated lanes are, what routes cyclists prefer and where there are potential dangers. Yet, after hundreds of kilometers of commuting, I am still bothered by the way in which our city is progressing in cycling infrastructure terms. Yes, we are ticking all the right boxes, albeit it slower than my ascent up Chappies.

What is it that just doesn't feel right?
What is the question we are answering?
And of course how can urban design add value to the countless hours already sown by cycling activists?

Here is my hunch. We are negotiating around contested lines, not winning contested spaces.

A continuous line drawn down Albert Road, in a few months designated as a delineated painted road surface will be cause for celebration for anyone who has traveled by bicycle. That is for sure. On a map it will look like a victory and it may affect driver behavior somewhat, yet the space will not have changed. The outdoor room that is the street will not, in its enveloping of public life, have changed at all. The contestation of space will continue although the contestation of the line would have been won.

As a newbie cyclist and urban designer, my first experience of commuting was intoxicating, poetic and spatial. A direct route is unlikely to seduce me from my car as much as a meander through a series of rooms that express the gift that cycling brings to the city. The interconnection of neighborhoods. Our unique contribution to the cycling city conversation is not only in the adoption and applicatiion of 'Copenhagenization' (its a word!) but we must connect spaces and communities that were previously separated. It is a spatial challenge as well as a linear challenge.

As a commuter, I dont just want to 'go there', I want to 'know there'

*for the next month, I will be focusing on spotlighting conversations and aspects of bicycle commuting that point to and frame the legacy of the May 25th Freedom Ride. A social ride interconnecting Cape Town in honor of Madiba.

Just a helmet.

I arrived at 4:05am sharp without a bike at the start of the Two Oceans Crash. A bike ride (race) traversing the 56km course of the Two Oceans Marathon before the runners take to the closed roads. Not sure what to expect, 30hrs later, I still can’t wipe the smile off my face.

At precisely 4:10am Du Toit arrived. Two wheels, four pedals and strong beam of light. This exquisite receptacle of synchronized leg power deserves a name and requires a captain. When Andrew Wheeldon suggested we ride the event on a tandem a few days prior, I laughed out loud right at the text message invitation – so much so that I needed to excuse myself from the room at the time. Why not he said?

Why not indeed.

Not having ridden in any timed or planned event that required a water bottle, I went and bought a water bottle…and what I like to call my ‘work pants’. This was the sum total of my preparation. I know enough about endurance events to know that riding hard a day or two before is only going to do your body harm by depleting reserves. So instead I went shopping for supplies, and on the way home, stuck my head out of the car window to catch the wind at 6okm/hr. Preparation done.

My daughter gave me Barbie's helmet for extra protection!

In my defense I have been commuting by bicycle as much as possible and feel like I had built up a reasonable cycling confidence. Not fitness necessarily, but honing what I think are essential ingredients for cycling on Cape Town roads – the ability to navigate/assess obstacles at speed and the confidence to ride as though the street is not the contested space it unfortunately is.

We set off at exactly 4:30am and made our way to Main Road for what appeared to be a rolling start. There were no official timekeepers, no marshals, no safety pins straining to stay connected to jerseys. No cars.

Once we had set off, I wasn’t sure who the race was against. Was this motley crew of experience and dedication to cycling looking to edge past the start of the days marathon events, the memory of events passed, or the rising sun?  For the first few kilometers, my challenge was holding on and letting go.

Tandem riding is quite the antithesis of what I do everyday. I freelance, I set the pace, I direct and I shape. I tie shoelaces, pack lunchboxes, write policy, wipe tears and advocate. I seldom hand control over and trust to the degree that a trip on Du Toit requires.

With an average speed of 34km/hr for the event – Captain Andrew Wheeldon had the gears, the brakes, the strategy and the steering control over it all. My job as stoker (aka back guy/girl) is to listen, follow, ignore comments about being a passenger, and direct all my energy to the job required. In my humble opinion, squealing with joy should get written into the future job spec.

Moonlight on Chappies. 65km/h downhill with a headlight and courage at the helm. The smell of the ocean as we rose up to meet Muizenberg. The highlights in the darkness were to numerous to mention. My legs burned, my cycling workpants proved to be a sound investment and for a brief moment, I cycled in an uncontested space. It was glorious.

But what is it that is keeping me smiling? Not the doing of those things.
It’s the remembering of those things. The stoker gets to look around, behind, up and enjoy it all. Not seeing straight ahead was the hardest obstacle to overcome with the greatest reward.

In all my activism, mommy-crazy determinism and pushing to make/take/change/be better, I realized that I haven’t been looking around as much.

Too much captain. Not enough stoker.

*Kirsten Wilkins is a freelance Urban Designer looking to design spaces of value by understanding the world through the eyes of other.
*Andrew Wheeldon is the Co Founder and Managing Director of BEN (Bicycle Empowerment Network) and has more cycling experience than can be measured.

Give that lady a Bells

Approximately 12km, but I was having too much fun to actually measure.

This week I joined 9 other bicycle enthusiasts on a city ride from Josephine's Mill in Newlands to Bree Street in the city centre. It was exhilarating trying routes which I was completely unaware of, and new techniques I would never have dared to try. This adventure was organized by Bicycle Cape Town with guest appearances from some experienced local riders to even out the skill levels.

I was quite apprehensive about being the only participant on a fixed gear bike, especially not knowing the expected terrain and in seeing the range of machines I was expected to keep up with. My white wall tires and dynamo powered front light underscored my anxiety somewhat. Thankfully I was joined by one of my dearest friends who is as equally familiar with the area as much as my propensity to worry. It is one of my best qualifications for my least-likely-to-commute persona, so I embrace my bundle of nerves and hot-foot it!

Image by Leonie @ Bicycle CPT

The ride was a euphoric mix of tree-lined dappled corridors to multiple lane crossings with our fuel burning asphalt companions. Nothing I would dare do for the first time without assistance or a massive amount of saddle time behind me. The approximately 12km route took us through a series of zones where conditions, hazards and speed were similar. These zones are like a collection of outdoor rooms. They are nothing one is likely to find marked out on a map, they are patches of advocated continuity broken by larger order roads, hazards and remnants of dried-up funding. A simple change of surface treatment, path width or general traffic speed and a cycling environment is transformed. It was an incredibly eye-opening realization in urban design terms.
We were graciously informed at the briefing that the objective was not to break a sweat. My mind was so overwhelmed by the impilcations of what I was experiencing and how it will tie into creating a more authentic urban design response ... I did break a sweat. Or maybe it was because I had no gears?

I allowed myself to mentally relax after about 5km in, and after clearing the Saltriver overpass at the end of Liesbeek Park rd. In the midst of my self congratulatory thoughts, and the adolescent joy of freewheeling, there she was.

Salt River Circle. My first traffic circle on a bike.

Apologies to the cycling fraternity if I butcher the rules here, but this is how it appears to work.
You have just as much right to the road as a car. Behave like a car, be confident like a car and just GO! (..and feel free to use your bell). It was frightening, and I was hoping for some sort of group hug at the other side. Yet, we continued on, quietly appreciative of every safely negotiated intersection, enjoying the noise, the smiles and understated elation that is urban bicycle commuting.

Image by Leonie @ Bicycle CPT

My best nugget of advice after this ride would be to encourage less experienced cyclists to always ride in small groups when possible. Single file when on the road, of course, but a group-in-motion did prove to change driver behavior. It was of great assistance in The Circle and in every other situation where we aligned ourselves more with the rhythm of cars and by necessity were in the vehicular mix.
Finally on safety concerns, it would appear from a show of hands that all the ladies on the ride had found it important to have a bicycle bell. None of the male riders were sporting them. A thesis for another day perhaps, but an indication of how differently women perceive the potential dangers of cycling. In my opinion, at least half of our route covered would be unsuitable for a woman riding alone, especially in the late afternoon. Not to say these routes are unsuitable, but perhaps not designed with safety from opportunistic crime in mind.

All in all a great afternoon of exploration and encouragement. I am converted to urban bicycle commuting. The routes exist, the challenges can be overcome and friendships are waiting to be made. Half way through my self-styled cycle challenge to become a bicycle commuter, my next obstacle is possibly the greatest. It's overcoming 'the last mile'. T

he notion of city cycling is desirable and enticing, yet completing a full daily commute is a more complex challenge. 'The last mile' is a term used to describe the discontinuity in a daily commute between your transport mode and your home or your transport mode and your work destination. When the station is just too far or your place of work is outside of a transport corridor zone. The last mile is a substantial barrier to entry for city dwellers who commute in single passenger vehicles.

For the next 2 months I will endeavor to investigate the challenges of longer distance commuting and unlocking challenges of 'the last mile' with the help of a folding bike.

My sincerest thanks to Woodstock Cycleworks for providing me with the whitewall vintage 'fixie' used to complete this epic ride.

Follow Twitter @contestedspaces for updates and the life of "the least likely urban designer to get on a bike."

The pitter patter of little footprints

The results of this week's buzzword competition are out.  'Resilience' is the clear winner, followed at a respectable distance by 'Sustainability' and "Eskom' who appear to be holding hands on the podium but are not on speaking terms.

This weekend welcomes the launch of the Renewable Energy Festival at Green Point Urban Park complimented by a host of related activities also being 'activated' (fourth place) in the City of Cape Town. Voter registration is at the top of my personal list of ways to participate in saving the environment.

Now that I have shamelessly utilized journalistic techniques to motivate you to scroll down past my 140 character opening, here is the 'Going Green' story I really want to tell you.

Over the last few weeks, our family has participated in the hustle to be selected for the GBCSA Green House Project. An initiative by The Green Building Council of South Africa to test understand and overhaul the energy consumption a middle income home (and its inhabitants!) The selection process is not complete yet and while it may seem counter-intuitive to comment or post before it's resolution, that is precisely why I must. My experience this week in the events and exhibitions on sustainability have been in digesting the product rather than the process of arriving at the sustainability ideals we wrangle over.

Sustainability in my opinion, is about behavior change as individuals and as organized society. Whether we recycle glass and paper in the same bin or in colour-coded hanging baskets, it still requires the same commitment to pause and consider the impact of our consumption. 'Greening' is entirely about process, iterative design and the recognition that proposed outcomes and targets are constantly in flux as what we believe and how we think is shaped moment to moment.

"Mom, please tell the lady from the competition that I won't be disobedient at bath time anymore.." says Grace (5) after this weeks vetting and home visit of short listed project participants.
"...If all the kids bath together, we can save the world." She meant the environment!

I have seen countless changes in my children's behavior and our own as a result from participating in the vetting and application process for this project. Wonderful discussions around the viability of installing a windmill and a 6yr old's mathematical calculations of the volume of water used when showering have been the order of the day. From simple things like all 3 squirts agreeing to being in the bathtub at once to watching my 8yr old son quietly pack his already worn clothes back in his cupboard before they 'tell him' they need a wash...they are changing. The outcome is in flux yet the process is already bearing fruit.

When my children ask me what sustainability is, my new definition of this weeks 2nd place buzzword will be this: "Sustainability is when your heart tells your hands its okay to do things differently because you love the world that God made"
Process. Behavior change. Parenting.
  
So who won the GBCSA Green House initiative, you ask?
Every family that participated in the process.

Official winners announced next week. Watch this space!