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A little bike ride in Edmonton

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Today was the perfect day for a little bike trip along the downtown network in sunny Edmonton.

I enjoy the view of the towers from the 105 Ave path near 110 St. I have long felt that bicycle riders, not sealed under roof and behind glass, have a special relationship with the road. Bicycle forks sing the rhythm of the road into the bones of the city rider. It's a kind of rock music.

From 110 St, the bicycle rider can reflect on the passage of things as traffic streams by MacEwan University. The railroad used to be there. 

On 103 St, the trees are in photosynthesis overdrive. Street and trees and people. That's what cities are made of. Or, if streets are, as they are, unimaginable without trees, then cities are made of streets and people. Artifice and nature. Dirt, bark, leaf, concrete, asphalt, steel, glass, rebar, rubber, wood, brick, stucco, polyvinyl chloride, dreams, hopes, blood, bones. And good dogs. 

And people.  We met Mark on the Jasper Avenue.

And Claire on 100 Avenu…

Weekend in Jasper

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We are back from the Jasper Park Lodge. This was Lac Beauvert being mirror to the mountains. Here are some other stills.



The air was very clear as we moved through the Obed heights.




The Hinton Eye.




A roadside traffic sign blinked Sharp Shoulders at the instant Andy Maize sang My shoulder still burns...
My shoulder does still burn. Shelagh drove there and back.




Approaching Jasper is a joy in any season. We kept asking ourselves this time if we were just imagining the sky was brighter. It seemed vision went farther. The air was brilliant.




The bar at the lodge. Two pints of Village Blonde. I looked for shapes in whatever the term is for the beer residue inside the glass. I saw a coyote nosing a buffalo skull. What does this mean?




Fur remained fashionable.




This was a pic of the watery mountains and trees and moon flipped to appear to be the things and not the reflections.




We stayed  put. We didn't hike. We didn't walk. We didn't go to a movie. We just sat there and watched th…

A silly streak in us

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The front tire wasn't a front tire as much as an oversized windshield wiper clearing snow from the glass. The transformation was rapid, and complete: Now I was pedalling down a riverbank utility road, and now I was thinking how lovely it is when the brown city gets a fresh set of linens, and now my front tire was skidding across the ice hidden beneath the snow—and now I was clearly falling.

And now, sitting propped up on an emergency room stretcher, I was signing my name to a form without lifting the pen off the page before things went black under a veil of fentanyl and propofol.

The scan shows the dislocated shoulder bone  back in place (it looks like a pork chop) and the chunk of bone that fractured off.


Here is another view inside:



The fall happened on March 30. I was riding back home with a friend from a meeting of Coffee Outside. For more than three years a growing group of bicycle commuters in Edmonton have met on Friday mornings in all weathers and temperatures, usually in…

The memorable Janette Sadik-Khan

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Janette Sadik-Khan is a lawyer. She moves easily in engineering circles. She led the New York City Department of Transportation for six years. There is no necessary reason with that professional pedigree that she should also be able to speak clearly. Lawspeak plus engineeringspeak plus transportationspeak plus zoningspeak can be the deadliest of communication cocktails. Numbed by acronyms, baffled by gab, fogged by vaporous words, listeners are quickly anaesthetized while the elect work their schemes unbothered because un-understood.
Sadik-Khan spoke to crowds in Edmonton and Calgary last week. She spun yarns from her storied tenure at NYC DOT. Bike lanes. Bikeshare. Summer Streets. Plazas. A new Times Square. Deck chairs. Paint. Bus rapid transit. A reinvigorated way of seeing public space for people. All the riveting stuff of her book Streetfight: Handbook For An Urban Revolution. Read it!

Part of Sadik-Khan's revolution is in language itself. In the book's preface, she rec…