I see CitiBikes all of the time in their racks, and many of
those bike racks are mostly empty, but I rarely notice the bikes on the street
being used in Manhattan. It’s such a
rare observation, that when I actually do see one being used, it stands out in
my mind.
My general thoughts about CitiBike are positive, in that it
seems to be successful from a user perspective, not necessarily a financial
perspective since I’ve heard and read that the annual fee is going to be or is
considered to be raised. Does one raise
an annual fee on an unsuccessful venture or reduce the fee to entice additional
users? If unsuccessful, a free market
capitalist would go with the latter, and the government would elect the former
thinking, as Government does, that by raising the fee, more money will be
collected. If successful, both schools
of economic thought would raise the fee.
I assume the program is a
success and that is why an annual fee increase is being considered. Because they can. I consider CitiBike to be a good idea and I’m
pleased to see it implemented as well as (apparently) utilized.
From the New York Times Published: March 21, 2013:
“From April through October, an average of 18,717 people were recorded, at the
locations on weekdays from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., down slightly from 18,846 in 2011.
Over the three previous years, cycling had increased by 26 percent, 13 percent
and 8 percent in the same period.”
In my Master’s Degree Program at City College, in the Sustainable
Transportation Class, taught by Professor Daus, the first assignment is to rent
a CitiBike and write about the experience.
This is the only way that CitiBike would ever get one cent of my money
or one second of my time. To get from
point A to point B, I am very satisfied with the Metro or my feet. If the distance is far, beyond my time
constraints or physical ability, I take the subway. Otherwise, I love and prefer to meander
around the city by foot.
From some effortless web surfing, I learned that I may
select from a fleet of 6,000 bicycles, scattered across more than 300 stations in
Manhattan below 59th Street and parts of Brooklyn.
Approaching this project, my initial thinking is that CitiBike
is the worst of both worlds for me, but obviously desirable and attractive to
many others. The act of concentrating on maneuvering a bike will detract me from
the many observations which I enjoy making while walking such as looking at architectural
details, or people watching, and if a distant destination were the reason for
utilization, the metro would be a better option for me over riding a bike.
As I write this, I will admit that I am not looking forward
to my ten dollar, 30 minute experience; however, that is my first blush, and
first glance understanding of what my expense will be. My expense may be more. I am always up for an adventure. However, this is an adventure which I am not in
any way excited about, even though I love adventures. When I lived in Michigan, I kept my boat in
Maine in the summer and Miami in the winter and my crew and I sailed her north
and south many times in the heavy seas as well as heavy winds present in the
Atlantic Ocean. Additionally, as a pilot, I flew my plane from Michigan to and
from wherever the boat was located. I’m
calm headed in situations where my crew and passengers lives depend on clear thinking
and quick reactions to situations, and I am always cautious. Riding a bike in Manhattan seems to me to be
an even more potentially dangerous situation than sailing in the enormous
Atlantic Ocean or flying thousands of feet above the ground. I am exposing myself to the bad judgment of
others, especially those who are driving many ton vehicles which, if we were to
find ourselves on a collision course, I have little control of the situation, few escape route options, and the results could be
very deleterious to my well-being.
I asked my girlfriend to come in to the city from Oyster Bay
to join me in this adventure, and her first reaction was to tell me about
seeing a girl riding a bike in the city getting hit by a car. Not a good start. Trooper that she is though, she agreed, and
on Friday, September 12th, 2014 after I finished teaching my class
in Brooklyn at 12:30 pm, she will join me for this adventure.
Step one was to determine where we would meet, so I accessed
the CitiBike website to learn of the locations of the bike racks, and was very
surprised to see how many locations are active.
I was also impressed that one could hover over or click on a location
and learn how many bikes were out and how many bikes were available.
My current thinking is that we will bike through Central
Park to avoid the cars as much as possible and drop the bike off at the other
end of the park. Hopefully this
adventure will take less than the half hour allocated, which will then NOT
require additional expense above and beyond the initial ten dollars per person
which is my understanding of the cost.
Another reason I would not use this service were it not an
assignment is that I usually have a briefcase with me when I’m in the city and
I don’t recall seeing any device to put this brief case in. If true, that would be one suggestion for
improvement in the service that I would make- a basket for carrying items such
as groceries, packages and of course my briefcase. The transportation of heavy items is one
advantage that CitiBike may have over the Metro. CitiBike might be able to do the heavy
lifting, while using the Metro makes me do the heavy lifting. If I had a big package, and CitiBike has a
respectable front and/or rear basket, then I may alter my thinking and suggest
that perhaps I would in fact find the bike more desirable than walking or
subway riding when I have a heavy package to lug around.
Notes from “the” Friday.
Of all the things that I thought would or could go wrong
with my CitiBike assignment, the multitude of wrongness’ that actually did
occur, none make it to my imaginary list.
I awoke on Friday morning, awaking a half hour late from my
desired time of 4:30 am, but still leaving me a comfortable window to arrive at
my first class in Brooklyn on time. As I
prepared to depart my comfortable abode, I did my usual checklist of
necessities: wallet, watch, sunglasses,
phone, pen, briefcase, keys…and it was at that point that I realized I had not
placed my keys in their usual resting spot.
Being a “Place for everything and everything in its place” kind of guy,
this is an extremely unusual occurrence.
As I searched high and low, I decided that it might as well get a few
more minutes of charging time into my phone while I searched for my keys, and
returned it to its cradle. I was
stumped. Every conceivable place that my
keys could be, when searched, yielded a failure. Finally, I was convinced that my dog had to
have taken them outside, so I grabbed a very powerful spotlight and searched
high and low with another failure as the outcome. Fortunately, and finally, at one point, I did
locate my keys (one of those “oh yeah” moments) and in my rush to depart, I
forgot to grab my phone from its charging cradle.
As I pulled my car into the train parking lot, I watched my
train beginning its departure. Not an
issue I felt, because there always is another.
I reached for my phone to use the great Long Island Railroad app to see
when the next train was scheduled to depart.
It was then that I realized that my trusted sidekick, the beast, was
resting comfortably at home, in her cradle, lapping up juice, or energy as it
is technically referred to.
“No big deal” I thought as I did a ‘work around a bad
situation’ stroll to the posted printed schedule and learned that I had a half
hour before the next train departure. I pulled my wallet from my front pocket
to purchase my round trip ticket and then returned to my car. The
dilemma which faced me was this: “could I make it home, retrieve my phone, and
return in time or should I go get a cup of coffee. “ I knew I could do the
coffee run in plenty of time, but the home trip was a big question mark. I went for coffee.
As I grabbed the empty Styrofoam cup from its holder at the
local caffeine dispensary, apparently I squeezed a bit too hard because I
crumpled it just the slightest bit.
Regarding the indentation and wondering if my superhuman strength had
caused a slight break in the surface, I concluded that the only superhuman
strengths I possess are in my head and proceeded to fill the cup.
As I arrived (again) at the Oyster Bay train station, I
removed my cup from its German crafted cup holder to learn that in fact I DID
have superhuman strengths and dripped coffee all over myself and my car.
Walking to the train platform, I saw a five dollar bill on
the ground, near the ticket vending machine.
“Woo hoo,” I thought, the CitiBike curse, as I had come to think of this
day and the event, had eluded me, perhaps forever, but at least for now. I had two five dollar bills in my front
pocket, change made the previous day from a local vendor who only had three
fives and five singles to exchange for my twenty. I intended to tip the launch driver who
transports me back and forth from shore to my boat, moored in Oyster Bay, with
those two fivers. That is why I had the twin fives in my front pocket. Usually,
they would be in their proper place, next to the other dead president pictures
in my wallet. As I attempted to add the found
fiver to my other two fives in my front pocket, I realized that the five spot
that I had found was actually half of the twins previously residing in my
pocket and that they must have fallen out as I pulled my wallet. No matter how hard I searched around the
ticket vending machine, I could not find the other one.
So without coffee, and without a phone, and five dollars
poorer, I boarded the Manhattan Bound train.
As I stared out the window assuring myself that I could get by for one
day without a phone, I realized that Michele (my date) and I had not confirmed
a time nor a place to meet the night before, instead relying on telephony the
day of the event to establish a rendezvous.
This oversight of leaving my phone at home was now not a simple
inconvenience but may be the third and final strike. Identifying the first strike for the reader,
I wore jeans to ‘The Club’ for a formal dinner, a very big no-no (which I knew) and were it not that she had pre-assembled
a table of eleven including the Commodore, we would have eaten our dinners on
the beautiful back porch overlooking the great sailing Yachts moored in Oyster
Bay. We were politely requested to do
just that, but Michele would not hear of it due to our table guests whom she
had put forth the effort to assemble.
Strike two occurred the previous night to the big bike event when I (due
to technical phone issues) bailed on our dinner date - Or so it appeared to
her. And now, I envisioned that she
would travel from Oyster Bay all the way to Manhattan continuously attempting
to contact me regarding our meeting place and time, only to be directed to
voice mail which would inconveniently reside on my phone at home. A valid
strike three.
I made it to Atlantic Terminal with time to spare to catch the
subway uptown to my class and as I departed the subway station, what did I
observe but a CitiBike rack! Since I had
a few minutes remaining before class was scheduled to start, I took a closer
look to learn how the thing worked.
Observing the rack, I realized that I had falsely assumed
that since the sponsor is a bank that one could simply swipe a card in front of
the desired bike and the bike would be released. The only instruction on the rack is to “enter
your five digit code”. Since I didn’t
have a code, nor did I understand how to get one, I was temporarily confused
until I saw a posted phone number for assistance. Reaching for my phone to call, I was reminded
(again) how much I rely on the beast in my everyday life.
So this adventure which I was not looking forward to in the
beginning was not starting well at all.
Our Professor suggested that we add photos to our blog and thinking that
I could make this situation into less than a total loss, I reached for my
camera, to photograph the bike instructions for my blog report, the camera
being a part of my phone; and once again failure describes the result.
As I was departing the CitiBike rack for class, I noticed
that the device used to advertise CitiBike could also be used to store my
briefcase. Mental note made to myself:
“bring a bungee cord.”
So off to teach a class.
As I rode the elevator up to my class, I realized that there
are other ways to connect besides voice and text messages via phone, and upon
entering the classroom, I fired up my email account and sent Michele a message
explaining my non phone situation with a simple request for her to tell me when
and where she would like to meet and closed with a promise to be there.
Three hours later, after the class had ended, I checked my
email to find a message from her waiting.
She was not coming but before reading my email, she noted that she had
left a lengthy voicemail with respect to circumstances conspiring against the
adventure today.
So, after class, instead of executing my CitiBike adventure,
I walked to a near building which houses the ‘teachers’ lounge’ which serves
the most incredible array of food for the faculty and at an unbelievable
price. The good news was that I could
indulge in a reasonably priced meal (for one), and would not have to shell out
a small fortune for a trendy, overpriced meal (for two). Unfortunately, the CitiBike curse followed me
to that building and the lounge was open, but they were not serving food.
I subwayed back to The Atlantic Terminal and checked in with
the information booth as to which track and at what time the next train for
Oyster Bay departed. “Track one, three
twenty three” was the reply from a very friendly attendant comfortably seated
behind what appeared to be bulletproof glass.
Was this glass to protect her from unhappy recipients of train schedule
news? As I once explained to my London
Based Sailing crew as we were docked in Atlantic City awaiting the passing of a
storm to continue our Miami bound trip, when they returned from a sightseeing
excursion and excitedly expressed that they had just seen a person shot dead in
the streets: “that’s how we resolve disputes in this country”, but seriously, a
dispute over a train schedule?
The analog clock behind the information station said two
fifty one, so I realizing that there was some time to kill, I departed the
building to enjoy some of the fine weather which I was sure would be rain for
the bike adventure, and another assumption was that Michele would appear equally inappropriately
attired for the CitiBike Adventure in her
custom made Ferragamo shoes and some other outrageously overpriced designer
dress-inappropriately attired equal to my previously inappropriate attire in my
jeans (yet with required jacket) at ‘The Club’, but since the adventure
aborted, mother nature decided to shower me with sunshine.
As I stepped out of the terminal, what did I see? I saw none other than another CitiBike rack. I spent some time observing the bikes and the racks and the instructions which were of no help to me but I did notice that the small area for storing objects has a bungee cord built into it. So the plus is the bungee cord (for my briefcase), but the minus is that the storage area is too small to carry groceries.
Returning to the terminal, I could see the digital clock
behind the ticket counter and it read 03:23.
For any blondes reading this, that was the time I was told the train
would depart. All thoughts that I could
still perhaps make the train during that one minute were dashed as the clock
immediately switched to 03:24 and I smiled and shook my head at my misfortune,
and marveled at the continuing CitiBike curse. I watched the clock advance to 03:25, then a
second later, 03:26. As I repositioned myself
to see the entire digital clock display, I learned that what I initially
thought read 03:23 was actually 3:03:23 meaning that I had plenty of time to
catch my train. And I did.
Saturday.
I’m back to the CitiBike website to figure out the payment
options and am finding it difficult to learn about how to pay but I did notice
this fact, that a pass bangs my credit card for not only the cost of the pass,
but an additional $101.00 for every pass I purchase. That means that had Michele shown up and had
I figured out how to unlock the bikes (with my card), when we arrived at the
overpriced trendy restaurant for lunch, which would have been my toll for
exposing her to the adventure, after eating and when the bill arrived and I
tried to pay for it with my card, the waiter would have returned saying that my
card had been declined.
Note from the CitiBike website:
Get Started
Purchase a 24-Hour or a
7-Day Access Pass. A $101 security hold will be placed on your card for every
pass you purchase.
My question is a simple one; “how long does CitiBike keep
that hundo? Is it until I return the
bike, or is it longer? No explanation of
length of hold has been found yet.
At the CitiBike website, when one hovers over the “get
started” icon, it displays a message: “just swipe a card, unlock and ride. A card?
What card, my credit card? A card
issued from CitiBike? There is NO WAY
that I’m putting my credit card into a CitiBike bike rack device because there
doesn’t seem to be a display terminal on the rack which allows me to select
which option I’m swiping my card for.
How would CitiBike know that I don’t want a yearly pass, just a quick
ride option?
Further CityBke website investigation yields this message: “Before you ride, you have to
purchase a pass to the system.” How do I purchase a pass?
Ok, even further surfing of the CitiBike website yielded the
below image which implies that there is a kiosk at the bike rack, something I did
not notice. That makes sense, but I do
not remember seeing kiosks at any of the bike racks. Perhaps an oversight on my part? I may sometimes be oblivious to certain
things, but failing to observe the kiosk?
Hmmm, that’s a pretty big oversight.
Ok, my online quest to find out the payment options has ended and since
noticing the $101.00 temporary bang to my credit card, this has absolutely become
a solo adventure. As if that option is
still up to me…
Monday, September 15,
2014. Ok color me oblivious. The first Citybike rack I saw from across the
street today, had what I considered simply a skinny vertical two sided
advertisement sign.
As I looked across the street, convinced that there was no
kiosk for purchasing a pass, four CitiBike riders crossed in front of me,
single file. They were on the side of a
busy street and not one of them looked like they were enjoying themselves, but
looks can be deceiving. I remember once
being on a tour bus in St. Petersburg. Russia, and as our bus passed another
regular transport bus, we looked in the windows of a passing bus to see the
faces of the residents of the city, and one of the passengers on our bus commented;
“no one was smiling on that bus.” I
thought to myself: “they may be thinking the same thing about us.” So looks can
be deceiving, because we were happy-happy to be on vacation and happy that we
didn’t live in St. Petersburg.
Anyway, I returned to the first scene of the crime, the CitiBike rack in front of my class
building today, and noticed another of those vertical signs, and this is why I
say color me oblivious. There is a kiosk
sandwiched between the two vertical signs.
The bike racks were empty and I had read on the CitiBike website that
one could get a fifteen minute free ride if there were no bikes available in
the bike rack, so I went to the kiosk and punched “get a credit” button
expecting to receive my credit and thinking that if I do this often enough,
this class assigned adventure will cost me nothing, but since I didn’t have a
card to insert for the credit to be applied to and since free is my favorite
word, I consider this a failure as well.
But a small one.
Station Full?
Select “Request Time
Credit” on the start screen of the kiosk. You will have 15 minutes added to
your time at no charge to find a nearby station with available docks.
Navigating back to the CitiBike website to cut and paste the
above caption I realized the site said: “Station FULL”, not empty! I thought if one found an empty rack that one
could get the credit, but as with many things CitiBike, my assumptions are
wrong. But it seemed like I was
successfully navigating the Kiosk to obtain a 15 min credit. I thought the only reason I didn’t succeed was
because I didn’t’ have a CitiBike card to insert to collect the credit.
All of the racks were blocked by cars or so I thought, and
proceeded to pull out my phone, which I did have with me this day to take a picture.
I positioned myself at the absolute end
to make the shot good and during the one second between when I was ready to
take a shot and actually hitting the button, someone found a way to squeeze his
bike into bike slot, sandwiched between two cars, destroying my potential photo
of a completely empty but blocked from use bike rack.
I politely and with a smile said to him: “you couldn’t have
waited one more minute?” and then as he looked at me with a puzzled look, I
added; “well, I suppose I should have taken the shot one minute earlier.” He ask me what I meant and I explained that I
was trying to get a shot with all the bikes gone and blocked by the parked
cars. He said; “hold on” and proceeded
to unlock the bike and move it out of the picture frame for me. Nice guy.
Probably not a New Yorker. Perhaps I should have asked if he was a
native New Yorker. Since I didn’t ask, I
am going to assume that he was originally from the mid-west. As with most CitiBike related assumptions,
this one is probably wrong too. Imagine
the different outcome had the vehicle been a car and not a bike. I can’t imagine a car driver being so
accommodating regardless of where he or she originated from.
With respect to the free fifteen minutes AFTER I have
already paid my dues for this assigned adventure, I’m thinking now that an
additional 15 minutes of use is probably the last thing I want, even if it were
free. When people see me on a CitiBike,
they will correctly assume from the look on my face that I am not enjoying it.
I have noticed that after purchasing a new car, that I see
more of that same make and model on the streets after my purchase. It’s not that I’m any kind of trend setter as
if people say: “wow, Bob bought this car so I must have one too… “and at the
beginning of this assignment, I hadn’t noticed very many CitiBikes being used
on the streets, but since this assignment, I am noticing more and more. I doubt that it’s a set-up or a prop like the
movie “the Truman Show” (Where a fake city was created around an unsuspecting
occupant) as in “cue the bikes, here comes Bob.” I think I’m simply more observant of them now
that I’m focusing on the CitiBike project.
Friday, September 19th, 2014. So today is the day that I was not looking
forward to. The day that after my class
ends at 12:30 pm, I have no excuse not to get it over with. So after my class ended, I approached the CitiBike
rack outside of my class building. From
afar, I observed two guys sitting atop the bikes pointed into the racks but not
actually secured in them. As I moved
closer, they were simply chatting between themselves so I approached them and
said my usual opening line: “can I ask you a question?” Without hesitation, one said yes, so I asked
them if they were natives or visitors.
It turns out that they were not natives but rather visitors from
Holland. We chit chatted for a while,
sharing that I had visited the Scandinavian countries many times and that I
suspected that a CitiBike experience was not new to them implying that their
town had something similar. They agreed
about the bike experiences not being new to them and we discussed the
propensity of pretty blonde women in their town, the red light district as our
Professor had also illuminated in class, and I asked them how their experience
was after learning that they were not departing the bike rack but returning the
bikes. They were positive in every way
and suggested that a gps color moving map would be a nice feature integrated
into the bikes for out of towners.
I thought about just asking them to let me ride their bike
around the block, saving me the ten spot, but then decided against it, since it
kind of deep sixed an integral part of the experience that we are supposed to
write about and I think they probably would have agreed, but what would I have
to give them as collateral for their rented CitiBike? My gold Rolex, my briefcase
which houses my computer, a few bucks, my $1,200.00 Mont Blanc pen, or perhaps
some other object which would clearly be worth more than the savings of ten
bucks should they skate? I let that thought slide into oblivion without giving
the idea a voice.
I searched the depths of my remaining brain cells for a
reason not to do the adventure, and having failed to come up with any satisfactory
excuse, while realizing that there may not be too many days remaining in this
year where riding a bike in the city would not be an affront to my personal
comfort, I took a deep breath and accepted the inevitable.
When they boys from Holland departed, I approached the kiosk
which I had so obliviously passed by so many times on my way to and from class,
followed the posted instructions and began to follow the on screen directions. The
screen explained that the $101.00 bang on my card will only last as long as my
bank policy enforces. Not much help in
learning how long I have lost use of MY MONEY, but I think I will survive. Yet that’s lost interest and as Mr. Kresge
(the founder of the five and dime store which later became Kmart) is credited
with saying: “take care of your pennies and your dollars will take care of
themselves” so, how much will this adventure really cost me in the lost use of
that hundo is a question bouncing around in my head.
Before long, and quite easily, a code was displayed 33322,
and I had hoped for a printed code, as I am a child of the seventies and my
memory is not so great anymore. The slot
which I expected my printed code to exit from did not present a printed code,
so repeating the code under my breath several times, I approached the closest
bike. I began by securely fastening my
briefcase in the holder with the conveniently supplied bungee cords and then
proceeded to enter my five digit code.
Nothing. After several attempts,
I considered my options. If I had failed
to remember the proper code, I wondered if I was out of luck. To confirm the code, I unfastened my
briefcase, and selected another bike.
This time I merely set my briefcase in the holder, not wanting to take
the time to fasten it since it was possible that failure would be the word to
describe this attempt as well.
Fortunately, the code was accepted and the bike was released for me. It was then that I attempted to bungee my
briefcase and learned that one of the lugs necessary to adequately and properly
secure my briefcase had been removed.
Ten years of college was not wasted on me and after a few minutes, I successfully
secured my briefcase using the remaining lugs.
Pulling the bike from the rack and repositioning it for
travel yielded my first conclusion: “wow, this bike is really heavy.”
The ride itself was uneventful as I had hoped it would be,
and I encountered no catastrophes. No
one stared at me from the sidewalk as if I were from outer space, so I assume CitiBike
is generally accepted as a common occurrence and not some out of the ordinary
passing by.
I am always finding money on the ground and usually it is
NOT mine, and today was no exception.
Were it not for this adventure, I would not be richer by the amount
indicated in the below picture because I would not have been in the CitiBike
lane.
It took a while to manipulate the gears, not knowing how to
change them, yet not long after observing the hand grip as I coasted along, and
once understanding how to change gears, I realized that unlike the furniture in
the story The Three Bears, no gear was ‘just right’. Low gear was too low to use, high gear was too
difficult to pedal and the middle gear which in a perfect world would have
yielded satisfaction was neither too low nor too hard, but still didn’t feel
‘just right’.
During the trip, I realized that pedaling the bike reminded
me of Miss Gulch, the wicked witch of the west, who rode a bike with a basket
on the front. It was not the basket
which created the similarity, but rather my posture which was hunched over with
my knees almost touching my chest as she was portrayed in the movie the Wizard
of Oz. All that was lacking was the soundtrack of music which will always be
associated with evil. It was not until the end of the ride that I
realized that I could have but did not adjust the seat, which would have
eliminated the wwotw posture.
After returning the bike to its rack, I hung out for a while
just to observe the activity at the rack and make sure that no one skated with
my bike because it was not properly secured.
There was no activity and no one attempted to remove my bike. After checking and rechecking at least a
dozen times to confirm that the bike was properly attached to the rack, I returned
to the kiosk and noticed that the area where I had expected my code to emerge
in printed form was not where it did in fact emerge from. Scooping out the many pieces of paper from
the proper dispenser, I found my code along with many others.
So now I have proof of this adventure. Just as when I
purchase a coffee at Starbucks, I am offered a receipt and always reply with:”
I do not wish to carry around a reminder that I just paid five bucks for a cup
of coffee,” I now have in my possession a permanent reminder of a momentary
event of unenjoyable action and significant expense.
My adventure began at 12:57 pm and ended at 1:20pm. Slightly shorter in length of time than I
paid for, but long enough to reinforce my previous conclusion that CitiBike is
not for me. Not wanting to end any
encounter or monologue (digital ink in this case) with a negative, the positive
is that a CitiBike adventure is no longer a foreign one. If ever I wish to do it again, I know how.
Summarizing my adventure, I realized that all of the difficulties
presented to me were operator error, not CitiBike roadblocks. Had I been more observant, the portion of the
adventure which was involved with acquiring access to the actual bike would
have been executed flawlessly.
CitiBike has successfully captured the market with respect
to those who seek more control over their mobility while avoiding Cabs, the
subway and private vehicles, yet it seems clear that they have failed to
capture other markets. Businessmen
dressed in suits are rarely seen utilizing the bikes, perhaps because of the
side effects of pedaling the bike. I
suspect that were the bikes motorized with a small electric motor, which is a
common accessory, people who are not appropriately dressed for the side effects
of exercise may utilize the program.
Additionally, there is absolutely zero ‘cool factor’ with the present
bikes. Providing a more appealing looking
bike might very well attract those who find it necessary to project a ‘cool’
image. The below picture is one example
of the kind of bike I would propose.
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