Ideas for training better young drivers

Jim Starks, a retired state trooper, asked if I remembered the most difficult part of the road test I took when I was 16 to get my driver’s license.

Parallel parking?

“That’s probably right,” he said. “You ever see anyone killed parallel parking?”

When teenage drivers die in accidents, it’s often because they don’t know how to react when something goes wrong at high speeds.

“Everybody makes mistakes driving,” Starks said. “But it’s what you do after you make a mistake that often determines whether you live or die.”

Starks was one of several people who called to respond to my column last Friday about how people drive too fast on rural roads. The column was prompted by a crash last week that killed two young people whose car ran off a rural Woodford County road and hit a tree.

The callers all made the same point: We could save a lot of lives if Kentucky teens got more intensive training behind the wheel. Not only would it help them survive their teenage years, but it would give them skills to keep them and others on the highways safe for the rest of their lives.

Driver’s education classes were once a high school staple. But many have disappeared because of lack of funding, insurance costs, liability concerns and a need to focus more instructional time on academics that are measured in standardized tests. Fayette County Public Schools, for example, no longer teach driver’s education.

Kentucky started tightening license requirements for teenage drivers in the mid-1990s after statistics showed the state had the nation’s highest death rate. The toughest rules came in 2006 when Kentucky adopted a graduated license system that requires more training and experience before young drivers can receive full licenses.

Graduated licenses and tougher seat belt laws are thought to be two reasons for a drop in Kentucky traffic deaths during the past two years. Only about 6 percent of Kentucky drivers are teenagers, yet they’re involved in about 20 percent of all crashes.

Starks said he investigated many traffic accidents during his 27 years as a trooper and state police detective. He saw the same thing over and over: Teen drivers would encounter a problem, overcompensate and crash.

So, in 1992, he and other law enforcement officers in Woodford County decided to do something about it. They found a narrow road in a county park, added a skid pad and got some old police cruisers. They gave serious hands-on training to young people as part of a driver’s education class at Woodford County High School.

During the five years the program was operating, no teens died in Woodford County accidents, said Starks, who retired in 1998.

“I think we saved several lives,” he said. “And I think if we did this on a statewide basis we would save a lot of lives.”

Richard Stafford, a Ph.D. student in public policy, agrees. He is developing a driver’s training program he hopes Kentucky will adopt. Stafford said he has received encouragement from Transportation Secretary Joe Prather and his predecessor, Bill Nighbert.

Part of Stafford’s idea is to use old state cars for driver’s training. He also would hire former police officers, who retire relatively young with decades of valuable traffic safety experience, to work part-time as driving instructors.

“A secondary benefit would be these kids being able to interact in a positive way with law enforcement officers,” he said.

Although Stafford said he is still developing his plan, he thinks it could be done statewide for about $10 million a year.

Another possible solution could be high-tech driving simulators, which get cheaper and more sophisticated all the time.

“Anything you can encounter on the street, we can do in here,” said Ronnie Day, director of the Kentucky Fire Commission, which owns one of the nation’s most advanced mobile driving simulators.

The commission, a part of the Kentucky Community and Technical College System, uses the simulator to train law enforcement and emergency personnel to drive firetrucks, ambulances and police cruisers.

“It’s similar to a video game, but much more sophisticated,” said Charlie Shaw, who manages the simulator. “I think it certainly could have a place in the school systems.”

There seems to be no shortage of good ideas for reducing highway carnage; smart people just have to figure out how to make them happen.

I think our kids are worth it. Do you?

Lessons from Bourbon Boot Camp

I reported for duty at Bourbon Boot Camp earlier this week. As a native Kentuckian, it seemed like the patriotic thing to do.

More than 40 other volunteers and I met at a downtown Lexington bar with Harlen Wheatley, the master distiller at Buffalo Trace distillery in Frankfort.

Over the next hour and a half, the 39-year-old chemist lectured us on the finer points of Kentucky’s signature beverage. We took sips of various products and learned about his craft.

Clear whiskey acquires bourbon’s distinctive color and flavor after years of seeping in and out of a white oak barrel’s charred walls. Wheatley discussed how bourbon’s taste is affected by age, grain mixtures, distillation processes and even variations in barrel wood.

But did you know that about 3 percent of bourbon evaporates through the barrel each year during aging? Or that 98 percent of all bourbon is made in Kentucky, but none of it in Bourbon County?

At $12 a head, Bourbon Boot Camp sold out weeks in advance. It was fun, interesting and one of the smarter marketing stunts I’ve seen.

It also made me think: What could the rest of Kentucky learn from its bourbon industry?

In the 1960s, bourbon fell out of favor as public tastes changed. It was considered your father’s drink — or your grandfather’s. Sales and production plummeted, and some distillers let quality slide.

Things began changing in the mid-1980s. Kentucky distillers began making small premium batches and selling “single barrel” brands. Bill Samuels of Maker’s Mark knew he had a good product, and he set the industry standard for creatively marketing it. In the process, he attracted fans around the world.

The high-end bourbon business is now booming.

Buffalo Trace celebrates a milestone Wednesday when it will roll out the 6 millionth barrel it has produced since Prohibition’s repeal in 1933. Helping roll out that barrel will be retired warehouse supervisor Jimmy Johnson, 92, who helped roll out the previous five milestone barrels.

Harlen Wheatley of Buffalo Trace distillery leads bourbon camp Monday night at the Horse and Barrel Pub in Lexington. Photo/Tom Eblen

Buffalo Trace, which sits on a site where whiskey has been distilled since 1787, will make about 75,000 barrels of bourbon this year. Wheatley wishes he could make more.

“We’ve had to curtail some of the interest because there’s only so much product available,” he said, noting that it takes at least eight years for a batch of his bourbon to be ready for sale. “We can’t go into China, for instance, because we don’t have the juice.”

Kentucky’s bourbon production more than doubled from 1999 to 2006, and about 1 million barrels will be produced this year. But the industry isn’t just selling liquor, it’s selling an experience — a uniquely Kentucky experience.

In 1999, the Kentucky Distillers’ Association created the Kentucky Bourbon Trail, a marketing effort to encourage visitors to tour seven of the state’s nine distilleries. An eighth distillery will join the tour next year, said Eric Gregory, association president.

Distilleries expect to get a lot more tourist traffic when the Ryder Cup comes to Louisville in September, and even more when the Alltech FEI World Equestrian Games come to Lexington in 2010.

When people think of Kentucky, they think of bourbon — along with horses, fried chicken and basketball.

Economic success is often about figuring out your unique assets or abilities, building a brand and marketing it well. It’s about creating something special that others want to have or experience.

What other things could Kentucky use to build a successful brand in the global marketplace? It’s worth thinking about — perhaps over a glass of you-know-what.

A bike wreck teaches educator some life lessons

Life can change in an instant.

Stu Silberman, superintendent of the Fayette County Public Schools, learned that lesson on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, Oct. 8, 2006.

He was on a leisurely bicycle ride with a friend among the horse farms of northern Fayette County. He was riding slow, probably too slow, making a left turn and trying to put a water bottle away when he lost his balance.

“The next thing I know, the front wheel is wobbling and that’s all I can remember,” he said. “Somehow or another, the bike flipped over and I landed on my right side.”

Silberman hit the road hard, breaking his collarbone, several ribs, a hand and, most seriously, shattering his hip joint. “Thank God I had my helmet on,” he said. “It cracked in three places.”

An ambulance rushed him to a hospital, where the next day he had the first of six surgeries. Over the next several weeks, his body would acquire an assortment of metal rods, plates and screws - and a serious staph infection, among other complications.

“My life completely changed on that day,” Silberman said. “There were two or three times at different points where I thought I was going to die.”

Silberman recently had what he hopes will be his last operation. Physically, he’s almost back to normal. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally and professionally, Silberman says he will never be the same. Like many people, he has found that a life-threatening event can also be life-changing - mostly for the better.

“The first thing I learned is that this is an extremely caring community,” said Silberman, a New Yorker who moved here from Owensboro in 2004 with ambitious goals for improving Lexington’s public schools.

“There were over 1,000 cards that were sent,” he said. “I didn’t know until much later how many prayer lists I was on at churches and temples all over the place.”

One of the most difficult adjustments Silberman has made since his recovery is that he no longer rides his bicycle outside, where he used to put in 1,000 miles a year.

“Boy, oh boy, do I miss it,” he said. “That was my combination hobby and exercise, my outlet, my everything.”

Silberman has given up outdoor cycling until retirement, which he expects to be at least seven years away.

“If I pop over, I could be back in the hospital,” he said. “If it happened again, I think the community would have a much different reaction to it, and it would be very difficult for me to explain. … I have a responsibility to this whole community, and I feel that.”

To compensate, Silberman rides his bicycle in his garage. It is hooked up to a high-tech stationary trainer and a laptop computer. The system measures his speed, heart rate and other vital statistics in addition to tracking mileage. An integrated video system shows him riding stages from the Tour de France as he pedals.

While he misses the open road, Silberman loves the high-tech gadgetry. He lost 25 pounds after the accident, but gained 35 back. He needs to work some of that off, plus stay in shape for a cycling trip to France he has planned for retirement.

A long road back

Silberman’s wife of 38 years, Kathy, was his constant caregiver through months of recovery from surgery and infection and the long, painful weeks of rehabilitation at Cardinal Hill Hospital.

“I think he makes time for things more now,” Kathy Silberman said. “The idea that you’re here today, and tomorrow you might not be.”

The Silbermans were active in their Owensboro church but were too busy for church after moving to Lexington. Silberman called the accident a “major wake-up call.” During his recovery, they found a new home at St. Luke’s United Methodist Church.

“There is no question that your faith is strengthened, because when you’re lying there in bed, that’s what you’re thinking about,” he said. “You’re doing a lot of praying. At least I did.”

Melissa Bacon, a school board member who belongs to the same church, said Silberman has become extremely active - leading a stewardship campaign and leadership classes.

“I think the accident definitely allowed him to reach out and depend on his faith,” Bacon said. “I also think he’s a little more sentimental, because he appreciates things more.”

Silberman said he no longer takes simple things, like being able to walk, for granted. He has new respect for doctors, nurses and other caregivers, as well as for disabled people.

“I’ve just become really thankful for lots of stuff,” he said. “Being able to step into the shower - it’s just part of a daily chore until you can’t do it. It really makes you think about what you’re doing today, because you don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

Silberman remains hard-charging, arriving at the office by 7:30 a.m. and frequently attending school events in the evenings and on weekends. Before the accident, Silberman said, he would stay up half the night responding to

e-mail. Now, he tries to be in bed by 9 p.m. and rises at 4 a.m. to do e-mail.

“You know, I’m kind of a workaholic,” said Silberman, 56, who is in his 34th year as an educator.

Speeding up the clock

Silberman credits his staff with keeping things running smoothly during his recovery.

“This school district didn’t miss a beat,” he said. “I really think we got better while I was gone, which is what I would have expected them to do.”

Silberman thinks he has become “more grandfatherly” with his staff.

One reason may be that he became a grandfather eight months ago when one of his three daughters gave birth to a daughter, Allie. Silberman’s motto for the Fayette school system is “It’s about kids,” and you don’t have to be around him long to see he’s all about this one.

Silberman said his accident has led him to focus more time and attention on staff development, mentoring and leadership training. Plus, he plans to take his broken helmet around to elementary schools to talk about bicycle safety.

He is especially proud that six staff members over the course of his career have become superintendents.

“There’s this sense that you have to pass along those kinds of things because you may not be here tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t think about that all the time - that I might not be here tomorrow - but subconsciously what ends up happening is your sense of urgency, or your clock, speeds up.”

That sense of urgency has made him put even more pressure on himself and his staff to achieve the school district’s goals of raising test scores and improving student proficiency.

Silberman said his stamina is back.

He recalled that Cathy Fine, the principal at Glendover Elementary, took ballroom dancing lessons last year. At her school’s winter program, which Silberman attended, she and her dance school partner put on a show for the kids.

Silberman saw Fine again recently at a school district career fair. Suddenly, he said, he grabbed her by the hand, and they took a few spins around the room, much to everyone’s surprise.

“I wanted our people to see that I’m back, and I’m dancing.”

Oxford American features Lexington landmark

In its latest issue, the Southern literary and culture magazine Oxford American focuses on our homes. It’s not exactly the Southern Living view of things, which makes it all the more interesting. One of the best articles profiles 11 modern masterpiece homes in the South, as chosen by contemporary architects, including the Miller House in Lexington.

French architect José Oubrerie designed the house, completed in 1992, for Bob and Penny Miller. After Bob Miller’s death, the land was sold for development and the empty house was vandalized.

Michael Speaks, the new dean of the University of Kentucky’s College of Design, writes a short, perceptive essay about the boxy, concrete house, which many Lexingtonians have found difficult to appreciate.

“The story of the Miller House is emblematic of the struggle in Kentucky, and indeed throughout the South, between the soul of modernism — note how the Miller House is both a specific place and yet universal — and the rapacious logic of suburbanization, which produces the stamp of the universal on specific places,” he writes.

A few articles from the Oxford American’s special “Home Sweet Home” issue can be read on the magazine’s Web site, although you’ll have to buy the magazine ($4.95) to see the “Beyond Nostalgia” feature that includes the Miller House. It’s worth a look.

Your life right now, in one sentence

I love Facebook, the online social networking tool. It was created for college students, but I find it more useful for adults.

Over the years, you collect a diverse and far-flung set of friends, but you rarely make the time to contact them to see what’s new in their lives. On Facebook, that information comes to you automatically.

My favorite part of Facebook is the “status update.” That’s where you say in one sentence what you’re doing, thinking or feeling, and it goes out to all of your Facebook friends with a time stamp.

Today’s lineup on my Facebook home page was classic. It included the following:

• (A friend in Detroit) is very worried about Lebanon today. 2 hours ago
• (A photojournalist friend in Florida) is editing audio. 3 hours ago
• (A foreign correspondent friend) is back from Afghan, which was good, and Dubai, which is weirdsville, and is now in Moscow, which is chilly, and soon to be headed for the states, which is far. 5 hours ago
• (A young friend in Australia) ’s favourite food is risotto. 7 hours ago
• (A friend in Maine) has high spirits, but a creaky knee. 16 hours ago

So how would you sum up your life at this moment, in one sentence? Comment below.

Is the problem our rural roads? Or our drivers?

When I heard about the crash on “roller coaster road” that killed two young people, I thought: Oh, no. Not again.

I’ve been driving Dry Ridge Road in Woodford County for more than 30 years, usually while squeezing the steering wheel and hoping somebody wouldn’t pop over a hill and hit me head-on.

At least 10 people have died in five accidents on that three-mile ribbon of pavement since 1984, according to the Herald-Leader archives.

My first thought: Something should be done about that road.

My second thought: The road isn’t the problem.

I drove out there Thursday morning, just after the daily parade of commuters who use Dry Ridge as a shortcut from south Lexington to the Bluegrass Parkway and Frankfort.

Friends of Hannah Landers, 17, a Dunbar High School senior, and Ben Thompson, 22, of Wilmore, had put up two white crosses to remember them. The crosses were in front of a big, skinned-up tree at the end of muddy skid marks. It was where the 2007 Suzuki Reno carrying them and two other young people crashed late Monday morning.

The four apparently had gone joy riding on Dry Ridge, where if you drive too fast you can leave the pavement for a few seconds - or forever.

There were two bouquets of flowers, and a yellow ribbon was tied around the tree. On the ground beside the tree was a journal, wet from rain. It had a few pictures of the smiling young people, sweet notes and many pages that will never be filled.

The memorial is less than a mile from four other white crosses. They are nailed to a tree where a van crashed in September 1999, killing three tobacco workers and a 5-year-old boy. Speed and alcohol were factors in that crash.

As Kentucky country roads go, Dry Ridge is in good shape - 20 feet wide with solid grass shoulders. It was resurfaced and restriped two years ago, and 45 mph speed limit signs are posted in several places.

“If you drive the speed limit, it’s a pretty safe road,” said Buan Smith, Woodford County’s highway engineer. “But people drive quite fast. You can see where they’ve bottomed out jumping some of the hills.”

Wilbur Hill has lived and farmed on Dry Ridge Road since 1944. He agrees it’s a good road. But he has seen a lot of tragedy.

“My son pulled some girls out of a car one time at the same tree where those kids were killed,” Hill said. “We had another young man got killed just beyond our driveway, about 20 years ago. My boys were out that night, and it scared me to death.”

While he sees occasional joy riders - “The kids get reckless and like to get airborne” - he is more concerned about the commuters who zip by every morning and evening, going 10 or 20 mph over the speed limit and paying little attention to the double-yellow line.

“It’s the same cars every day,” he said. “People aren’t careful enough; they don’t anticipate the curves and hills. They’ve posted the speed limit several places, but that doesn’t slow them down.”

Kentuckians love their blacktop. Usually, our first reaction to a tragic wreck is to say the road needs to be wider, flatter, straighter. We’re always eager to four-lane the most scenic of rural roads, whether it needs it or not.

There are more sensible reactions.

We could warn our kids about the dangers of joy riding. Still, the smartest kids will do the dumbest things. Always have, always will.

But teenagers aren’t the main problem.

Kentuckians of all ages drive too fast on country roads that were designed a century or two ago for horses and wagons, not Dodge Ram pickups and Escalades.

Rural roads should be well-built and maintained, just as Dry Ridge Road is.

Beyond that, we have two choices: We can spend all of our resources flattening, straightening and four-laning Kentucky into asphalt ugliness, or we can slow down and be more careful.

Something should be done, and I think you know what it is.

For sale: Hunter S. Thompson’s childhood home — bullet holes, Gates of Hell not included

The Realtor’s listing says it all: “Although the current children are perfectly normal - Hunter S. Thompson grew up here!”

That’s right, the Gonzo journalist’s childhood home in Louisville is for sale.

Thompson’s father, Jack, bought the two-story, stucco bungalow in the Cherokee Triangle for $4,100 in the winter of 1943. The asking price now for 2437 Ransdell Ave. is $435,000.

Thompson, who committed suicide in 2005 at age 67, is almost as famous for his wild drug- and alcohol-induced behavior as for his rambling, first-person narratives that became known as Gonzo Journalism. The Rolling Stone magazine correspondent and author of several books, including Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, is perhaps most famous locally for his classic 1970 magazine story, The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved.

“There are 40 million stories about Hunter in the neighborhood, and they all center around this house,” said Sandy Gulick of Kentucky Select Properties, the listing agent.

“Jim Thompson, nine years younger, remembered his older brother as a wild man who terrorized their house,” author William McKeen writes in Outlaw Journalist: The Life and Times of Hunter S. Thompson, which will be published in July by W.W. Norton.

McKeen said Jim Thompson told him about an elaborate tableau of the Gates of Hell that his brother painted on his bedroom floor. “He kept a rug over it, but required little prompting to reveal it to visitors,” McKeen writes.

Unfortunately - or, perhaps, fortunately - the Gates of Hell were sanded off the floor years ago, said McKeen, who heads the journalism school at the University of Florida.

The bullet holes also have been patched, said Hunter Thompson’s childhood friend, Gerald Tyrrell.

“I was in the house with him when he took his .22 rifle and, by mistake, put a bullet through the bedroom floor,” Tyrrell, 69, said in an interview Wednesday.

“The bullet went through the china cabinet downstairs and missed a plate by not much. There was a shard of wood in the corner of the cabinet that was just hanging. His mother and grandmother were out of the house at the time, so we glued it back and nobody ever noticed.”

Tyrrell said he has fond memories of the house: “We went to Hunter’s house every day after school, or all day if there wasn’t school. All of the neighborhood kids were there.”

Thompson amassed a large army of lead soldiers in the basement, which they used to wage epic battles in the in fortifications they dug in the backyard. His bedroom was filled with books - he was always a voracious reader - and lots of mementoes, including a flag he swiped from the nearby golf course, Tyrrell said.

When Tyrrell was in high school, his father made him stop hanging out with Thompson, who by then was frequently in trouble with the law for a wide assortment of petty crimes. After serving 30 days in jail on a robbery charge, Thompson left Louisville for the Air Force and returned only occasionally.

The 2,600-square-foot bungalow has been owned for 21 years by Rick McDonough, an editor with The Courier-Journal.

“An awful lot of people drive by and snap pictures,” McDonough said. After Thompson’s suicide, several people knocked on his door to express their grief, and somebody even left a filter-tip cigar and flowers on the sidewalk.

“It’s a curiosity,” he said. “But I don’t know that anyone’s willing to pay a premium for it.”

Yellow Bikes return soon to downtown Lexington

Christopher Rowe is passionate about bikes. Most recently, yellow bikes.

Get up early this summer and you will see him on the streets of downtown Lexington, pedaling an old blue bicycle rigged with a rack made of plastic pipe so he can tow one or two yellow bikes behind him.

Rowe is wrangler-in-chief for Lexington’s Yellow Bike program, which will begin its second year next week. About five dozen bikes will be rolled out from winter storage and put back on downtown streets for public use.

Last year, yellow bikes were placed throughout downtown, available to anyone who paid $10 for a key to the cable locks that secured them. The idea was for keyholders to ride a bike downtown and then lock it up for the next person.

When the program began, critics predicted the bikes would all be stolen within weeks. But Rowe said fewer than 20 of the 80 bikes were lost or destroyed.

“We had the highest percentage of retention of any program we’ve ever heard of,” he said. “There are still a few floating around. I just recovered one the other day.”

Christopher Rowe, shown last October, used a bicycle to tow Yellow Bikes to new locations and take them off to repair. Photos/Tom Eblen

New bike rules

New rules will make the bikes more secure, but a little less convenient to borrow.

People who pay $10 (or who paid last year) will get an ID card they can use to borrow a bike at one of at least five downtown locations. Bikes will come with sturdy “U” locks to secure them when they’re not being ridden, and they must be returned within three hours.

The time limit is designed to keep Yellow Bikes from wandering beyond downtown. “But if you can pedal to Paris and back in three hours, go for it,” Rowe said.

To get an ID card, Yellow Bike members must give a credit card number to guarantee the $300 replacement cost if they lose a bike in their care. The Yellow Bike program will begin issuing ID cards Saturday.

Rowe, an Adair County native who has lived in Lexington since 2002, took the part-time wrangler’s job last year because he loved the idea of getting paid to ride his bike around town every day. He fixed flat tires and mechanical problems, moved bikes to where they were needed and rounded up strays.

When not on his bike, Rowe, 38, edits Kentucky Epidemiological Notes and Reports and writes fantasy and science-fiction stories. Author Stephen King, who edited the 2007 edition of Best American Short Stories, chose one of Rowe’s stories as among the nation’s 100 best last year.

Rowe is a big believer in the Yellow Bike program, which receives no government funding but is supported by the Downtown Lexington Corp., several developers and other sponsors.

To Rowe, cycling is more than a form of transportation: It’s a political statement.

“It’s good for the rider, good for the environment and good for the community, too,” he said.

Rowe said he watched people of all ages and walks of life use the yellow bikes last year. One evening during Gallery Hop, he saw a lady wearing a little black dress and heels pedaling one down Main Street.

Last year’s casualties

The Atlas utility bikes were designed for running errands in factories. They’re rugged and easy to ride — single speed, coaster brakes, fat tires for stability. But they have their limits.

A few, which he now refers to as “carcass bikes,” were found in such bad shape that they were good only for spare parts. Somebody gave one bike a new paint job — Wildcat blue. Another bike was found personalized in a south Lexington neighborhood.

“Some kid had written his name all over it in magic marker,” Rowe said. “I don’t think he’s going to be a very effective bike thief.”

Rowe said he spent much of his time last year searching for wayward bikes. They frequently ended up near the University of Kentucky campus — and as far away as Nicholasville.

A surprising number of missing bikes were found because of tips to the Yellow Bike Hotline — (859) 425-2008.

“One thing I’ve learned in terms of sociology reminds me of the legendary Old West attitude toward horse thieves,” Rowe said. “I’m here to tell you that if you take one of these yellow bikes and put it behind your house, your friends, your neighbors, your landlord, your girlfriend … they are looking for an opportunity to rat you out.”

This year, Rowe hopes to spend less time “scouring alleys for lost bicycles” and more time maintaining the bikes and doing community outreach.

Rowe credits part of the Yellow Bike program’s success to support from Mayor Jim Newberry, Vice Mayor Jim Gray and Urban County Council members who are trying to make Lexington a more bicycle-friendly city.

When cyclists staged a protest ride last year after state transportation crews ignored the city’s request to paint bike lanes on Vine Street after resurfacing, the vice mayor showed his support by riding along on a yellow bike.

“I was riding behind him,” Rowe said. “I noticed that, by coincidence, he was riding bike No. 2. I thought that was so funny.

“And, you know, I’ve never found bike No. 1; that’s one of the ones that’s missing,” he said with a laugh. “So, Jim Newberry, I’ve got my eye on you.”

BORROW A YELLOW BIKE

Beginning late next week, Yellow Bikes will be available for loan to program members at these five locations:

• High Street YMCA, 239 East High Street.
• Third Street Stuff, 257 North Limestone
• Pedal Power bicycle shop, corner of Upper and Maxwell streets.
• The Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning, Gratz Park, corner of Second and Market streets.
• Downtown Lexington Corp. offices, corner of South Limestone and Vine Street.

Other downtown businesses interested in sponsoring bikes or becoming loaner stations may contact the Yellow Bike program at (859) 425-2008 or www.lexingtonyellowbikes.com.
ID cards may be purchased for $10 at the Yellow Bike booths at Mayfest on Saturday in Gratz Park or the Peace and Global Citizenship Fair on Saturday at Bluegrass Community and Technical College’s Cooper Drive campus. They also may be purchased at the Downtown Lexington Corp. offices in the Phoenix Building at the corner of South Limestone and Vine Street.

May is bicycle month: Have fun, be safe

As an avid cyclist, I’m pleased to see Lexington Mayor Jim Newberry and the Urban County Council embracing pedal power.

Lexington is joining cities across the country - even New York City, of all places - in making safe cycling for recreation and transportation a top priority. Cycling’s time has come, even if gas didn’t cost more than $3.50 a gallon.

Newberry has appointed a 17-member task force headed by bike enthusiast Brad Flowers to help the city accomplish recommendations that came from a bicycle summit meeting last fall.

Those initiatives include a variety of events in May. The highlight will be the Bike Lexington Rally downtown on Saturday, May 17. The Rally is a car-free, 10-mile family ride around downtown Lexington. I went last year, and it was a lot of fun. The mayor was there, too, and rode the whole way.

A new Bike Lexington event this year is a three-day stage race, May 16-18, that hopes to attract racers from around the country. Beginning that Friday evening, racers will compete on a two mile course along the Avenue of Champions/Euclid Ave. There will be activities for spectators at Memorial Coliseum. It should be fun to watch.

Go to Bike Lexington’s Web site for more information.

Another local resource is the Bluegrass Cycling Club, which sponsors rides every week for cyclists of all experience levels. The club’s big annual event, the Horsey Hundred, is coming up Memorial Day weekend.

Some people ride bikes for fun; for others, it’s a form of transportation. Sadly, a Louisville commuter cyclist was killed early Sunday on his way to work when he was hit by an off-duty police officer. Read about it here.

You’ll see a lot more cyclists on roads throughout the state now that the weather is warming. Here are some links to help cyclists and motorists ride more safely:

Safety information for cyclists

Safety information for motorists

An overview from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.

And for more information about Kentucky’s cool “Share the Road” license plate, shown above, click here.

Derby hats: Pros beyond the merely fashionable

Some people work a lifetime in the faint hope that they and a horse they love will achieve Kentucky Derby fame.

And then there is Charles Matasich, who has been achieving his own version of it for 41 years.

Matasich, a retired steelworker from Proctorville, Ohio, wanders Churchill Downs each Derby Day, posing for photographs and chatting with fans. He’s easy to spot in his rose-covered cowboy hat, white beard and a vest full of kitschy bling.

He is “Derby Man” — it even says so on his business card and Web site.

Matasich, 66, is one of a handful of characters who come year after year. They wear outlandish hats and pose for photos with spectators whose own bonnets are merely fashionable. They love the scene, the conversation and, most of all, the attention. Like mint juleps, they are part of the flavor of the first Saturday in May.

“Derby Man” Charles Matasich is interviewed by David McArthur of Louisville’s WAVE-TV. Photos/Tom Eblen

Derby Man first came 43 years ago with infield tickets and a wife who was seven-months pregnant. He wore a decorated hat, which year after year got bigger and wilder.

“When I would go out in the infield they would say, ‘Here comes the Derby Man.” he said.

“My wife said, ‘Aw that looks gaudy.’ But I come down here and everyone loves it,” he said, adding that Patricia Matasich stopped making the trip with him years ago. “She can’t take all these women having their picture taken with Derby Man.”

His outfit has grown over the years to include temporary rose tattoos on his neck and cheeks. “I’ve threatened to get permanent ones, and my wife threatened to leave me,” he said.

“This is his life,” said Matasich’s daughter, Tricia Vegil. “Last year he was really ill, and I told him that if he worked on it to where he could walk and get better I would bring him back.”

Ernie Trent’s millinery creations began as a lark 32 years ago and soon turned into an identity.

“One time I put a horse on my head just for the heck of it and people said, ‘We like that,’ and it started from there,” he said.

The 61-year-old retired factory worker from Louisville makes a different hat each year and said his 1993 creation is in the Kentucky Derby Museum. He visits several schools each year to help kids make their own hats.

Trent was strolling the paddock Saturday with a homemade model of the twin-spired grandstand built on a pith helmet, complete with little speakers playing horse sounds.

“Every year I say, I don’t know if I’ll go anymore, because it’s kind of dumb-looking,” he said. “But other people love it and love to take pictures of it. It puts them in a Derby mood.”

Ginny Keen of Louisville rode a motorized chair with the pink feather and pin-covered hat she’s been wearing for 39 years.

“Everybody smiles and everybody’s so happy,” Keen said. “You can go up and talk to anybody from any place you want.”

Skip Koepnick of Wyoming, Mich, is in his 14th year of hat-building. He said he also has one in the museum collection. He makes a different hat each year, although they all have his signature spinning model horses on top.

This was only the second Derby for Jan Baty of Traverse City, Mich., but she was making up for lost time.

Her straw hat was covered with huge silk flowers and topped off with a plastic pink flamingo plucked from her front yard.

“I’m having a grand time,” she said. “My grandkids are home going to watch it on television and I said, ‘Maybe grandma will be on TV.’

Middle photo: Ernie Trent of Louisville has been making crazy hats to wear to Derby for 32 years.

Bottom photo: Skip Koepnick of Wyoming, Mich., has been to 32 Derbies and has been making special hats for 14 of them.

MULTIMEDIA: To watch David Stephenson’s time-lapse photo report with audio about Charles “Derby Man” Matasich, click here.