The Art of Urban Cycling

Nelson Vails, 26, a National Sprint Cycling champion, Pan-Am Games gold medalist and 1984 Olympic silver medalist, learned to ride on the streets of his native New York. Friends called him Cheetah for his speed and competitive drive. Irate drivers called him less flattering names for his hell-bent style. Vails served as technical advisor for the 1986 movie "Quicksilver." He also starred in the film's opening sequence, a mano a mano race between a cab and himself on wheels. He is now training with the U.S. team for the upcoming Pan-Am Games.

Riding a bike in the city is like playing a game with your life. If a cab, a bus or a truck doesn't run you down, and if the cramps, crazies and traffic cops don't get you, you win. I always win. I've been playing the game since I was a Harlem kid on his first bike. I got great at it when I spent two years as a bicycle messenger in New York City. Now I ride on tracks all over the world. But for me, urban cycling is still the all-time thrill. How else could you make it all the way from the World Trade Center in lower Manhattan to Queens without having to stop for a single traffic light?

A lap around New York is a great test for any cyclist. All recreational riders should try it. Take your life in your hands. If you don't live in New York, any big city will do, but a weekday afternoon in Manhattan is the best. I want you blasting down Broadway on Friday at five o'clock. You've got to put your behind on the line.

Of course, if you think it's going to be a joy ride in the park, don't waste your time—or clog the streets.

At the very least, you'll need professional help. You wouldn't go into a combat zone without a little basic training, would you? Well, urban cycling is as different from riding in the park as Platoon is from Radio Days.

I'll be your drill instructor. My ability to stay on a bike has kept me alive for the past 20 years. I've never hit a car, truck, bus, limo, hot-dog cart or mailbox. I have hit a pedestrian or two, but they were asking for it. Trust me.

Awareness—that's lesson one (continued on page 150)Cycling(continued from page 104) through 100. Urban cycling is all about timing and judgment. It's about the thrill of being aware. You have to think all the time. Think Quicksilver—the movie I made with Kevin Bacon. By "think Quicksilver," I mean think quick and think movie.

The urban cyclist encounters think-fast situations everywhere. He may have a split second to make a move; and if that move isn't right, he's going to get clipped. If he's looking at a Bloomingdale's window or waving at a pretty girl, he's going to be looking up at the bottom of a truck.

He has to see everything. He has to read that scene in front of him, as if he's looking at a movie—see the things that could hurt him and think fast enough to avoid them.

Look at the car in the center lane. It may move over a lane and start a chain reaction by forcing another car to move. Look at that lady on the curb. She's either going to step into the street to catch a cab or stand in the street and wait for the light. It doesn't matter that she's standing in a bike lane. Pedestrians think a bike lane is a standing-in-the-street-waiting-for-the-light-to-change lane. That chain reaction begun in the center lane may force you into that lady. If you've been watching all this unfold, like a movie, you have your next move planned. If the sidewalk isn't crowded, up you go. If you have to stop, you stop; but if you think ahead and watch that movie, you can almost always find a way to make it through.

One thing you can't do and still be aware of your surroundings is waste time fooling with gears. When I was a messenger, I had the perfect city bike, a one-speed coaster with two working hand brakes. You need only one speed in the city. If you have a ten-speed, put it in whatever gear you're most comfortable with and leave it there. Or buy a mountain bike. They have big, rugged tires and they're sturdy. Their handle bars are too wide for city riding—if you go between cars, you'll get chopped by rearview mirrors—so have your bike dealer cut the handle bars to the width of your shoulders. That way, they can be like a cat's whiskers. If they make it through a tight spot, you know your body can make it, too.

So speed up and squeeze through, or slow down and weave around. Watch that movie and pick the straightest line. Make up your flight plan as you go. That's what makes urban riding interesting.

Drivers are what make urban riding frightening. Some of them hate you just because you're on a bike. They think of you as the enemy, and you can get in a street fight if you're not careful. My only real squabble was with a guy in a yellow Dodge Colt. We had stopped, waiting for a light to change, and I put my hand on the gutter over his window. This was a man with a grudge against cyclists or black guys or both, so instead of saying "Take your hand off my car," he slapped me. I got off my bike, leaned it on the bumper of a parked car, went back and gave him some awareness of my fist. When the light changed, he was in the passenger seat.

Fighting is a last resort, though. I don't want trouble with anyone. I never pound on a car door, no matter how stupid the driver may have been. There's no point in denting someone's car. That pisses him off; and, in general, you don't need someone trying to kill you when he has a car and you have a bike. You can show a bad driver the error of his ways, but be courteous. Knock on his window and say, "Hey. Awareness." If that doesn't work, catch him at the next light and park in front of him. He'll honk and call you four- and 12-letter words, but he can't just run you over.

Never underestimate a cab. Most cab-drivers are good drivers, and they're just out there making a living like everyone else. But you get some who think it's their job to test you. They'll play with you—squeeze you into a double-parked car or run you up the curb—just to see how you handle yourself. A lot of bikers get themselves into hard spots by pissing cabdrivers off. Don't. It's not in your best interest.

It's the same with a bus driver. His vehicle weighs something like 20 tons and yours weighs 22 pounds. That is a mismatch, but you're 1000 times more maneuverable, so you should be able to stay out of his way.

Trucks are tough, because you can't see around them, they turn very wide and they take up a lot of space. You can almost always go between cars, but two trucks side by side leave a space about as wide as your front tire. Give them room. Do what I say, not what I do, which is draft behind a truck if I can find one going a steady 25. A truck has two or three times the draft of a car—I'll get right up on its bumper and do a little coasting. I don't recommend drafting to the recreational rider, though. It's dangerous. Trucks make a lot of sudden stops, and you can wind up pasted to a How am i Driving? decal.

Limo drivers deserve respect. Most of them are careful. They don't want brake-lever scratches on their doors. The limo driver has a big, wide-turning machine to watch out for, so he's mellow. But limos change lanes without signaling, like everyone else. You have to watch that Cinerama in front of you at all times—even the whale with the mayor in it can hurt you.

Cops should also be treated with respect. It's perfectly all right, if you're in a hurry, to ride against traffic. Just don't do it in front of a cop. You may think you can jam right past him, since he has better things to do than chase a cyclist. Don't. Cops have radios.

Tourist drivers are the worst. They never seem to signal, they just weave back and forth in front of the Empire State Building. The driver will go from the left lane to the right lane while his wife is looking at a map and saying, "Look, honey! We were supposed to make a left here." Bingo—chain reaction. Everyone swerves left and you're running into people from Minnesota. There's not much you can do about tourists except give them room. Be aware of that out-of-state license plate. Don't take anything for granted. The only thing worse than a tourist driver with a map is a tourist driver without one.

You may think I am an expert at dodging dogs, but I'm not. There aren't many dogs in New York, at least without leashes. I've never been chased by one, but I think I know what I'd do if a dog came after me. I'd bark; and if that didn't work, I'd try to set a personal best in the sprints.

Remember this: There is nothing on the street—animal, mineral or vegetable (there are some vegetables with a driver's license)—that is going to hurt you if you're thinking fast and watching that movie in front of you. Don't be afraid. Don't wobble. Don't hesitate. He who hesitates gets clipped.

I've given you a lot of don'ts, but they all boil down to awareness. Use your wits and your common sense. You have nothing to fear from that cabdriver. When it comes right down to it, he's not going to run you over—he can't afford to have vehicular homicide on his record. You don't have to worry about that pedestrian; he has to worry about you. Go right through, man!

Coexist with the street. Look at everything in that movie. You're part of it. You're one bike in this huge city, and it's dangerous, but it's fun. You have the thrill of being aware. You're zigzagging in and out, beating the light. You've got to get somewhere and you can't afford to stop. But if you hear me yelling "Waaaa!" behind you, make way.

Nelson Valls's

Ten Rules of the street

1. Prepare. Stretch before you ride to prevent cramps. Dress for cycling success. If it's cold, wear wool underwear, ski gloves and ski goggles, take a bandanna to wear over your nose and mouth (you'll look like Jesse James, but your lungs won't freeze) and stick some paper under your shirt to keep the wind off your chest.

2. Be aware. The surprised rider is the one who hasn't been paying attention. Watch out for mirrors when you go between cars. Watch cabs—they'll stop anywhere to pick up a fare. Watch people getting out of cars—they don't look first. Watch pedestrians. Watch that last car trying to cross on an orange light. Watch everything.

3. Be aggressive. Too many people fear cars. They go wobbly when traffic gets heavy. Be positive in your cycling. If the traffic ahead of you closes up, find an alternative route. The best way to get clipped is to be indecisive and try to go two ways at once. If you do that, the way you'll usually go is down.

4. In a jam, stop if you can. Aggressiveness is not the same as craziness. The recreational cyclist should always have a fallback—stopping. Risk your shins and your ankles, but not your life.

5. If you can't stop, go straight. Going straight gives the other person an idea of where you will be a second from now, so he can be somewhere else.

6. Never trust a turn signal. Self-explanatory: People don't know where they're going until they get there.

7. Make an educated guess. You can see a problem coming when there are changes in traffic. A chain reaction starts when one car changes lanes. You can avoid it if you make your move early. A cab is going to stop traffic for anyone who sticks his hand up. It's like figuring out the plot of a movie before the events happen—you can keep yourself on your bike by seeing the things that could hurt you. Or help you.

8. No sight-seeing. If they're having a big sale at Macy's, you can park. If there is a pretty girl on the sidewalk, you can walk your bike. Some bikers wipe out waving at their friends. If you want to see the sights, you should join a tour.

9. Be courteous. Tip your cap to the ladies. Smile. In a confrontation with a pedestrian, listen to what the other person has to say. Help him up. Kill people with kindness, up to the point where you have to defend yourself.

10. Never hit a baby. When you're up on the sidewalk, watch out for baby carriages. Set a good example for future cyclists by missing them.