New bike park proposal has gearheads giddy
By Tim McGivern
Out on the north side of Avenida César Chávez and sandwiched between the Isotopes Stadium and the city tennis complex is a patch of land with potential. Or, to put it another way, it's a vacant lot comprised of rolling dirt piles and scattered chamisa that some day soon could be transformed into a world-class bicycle park.
Humping in Four Hills
Traffic calming measures rile some residents' nerves
By Jim Scarantino
Lately, in Four Hills every day is hump day.
If you commute from Four Hills you probably recognize this sound. It goes: "Whump ... whump ... whump ... whump ... whump ... whump ... whump ... whump ... whump." That's not a bass line to gangsta rap, nor failing CV joints. It's the sound of passing over nine—count that, nine—traffic humps installed by the city in September at the entrance to Four Hills Village. Four Hills is the only community in Albuquerque, other than private gated communities, with just one way in and out. You take Four Hills Road off Central, then the road splits at the entrance to Four Hills Village. The right fork is Wagon Train Drive, with nine speed humps in six tenths of a mile. Double that for each roundtrip.
Trouble on the Turquoise Trail
Proposed mine draws ire of local residents
By Christie Chisholm
Mountains are well known for harboring secrets—a snippet of folklore that Bill Henderson is well aware of, considering that he comes from a long line of mountain dwellers, six generations worth, to be exact. Henderson's tie to the San Pedro Mountains began when his great-grandfather settled in Golden, N.M., along the Turquoise Trail between Sandia Park and Madrid, as a coal miner in the late 1800s. He had a succession of sons, who, one by one, followed him into the mines; and who, like him, offered their lives over to the mountain.
Ortiz y Pino
Making Sense at the Legislature
Wilson abandons Bush's crusade
By Jerry Ortiz y Pino
Here's a riddle for you: If you call someone who sees a crisis when there isn't one there, “Chicken Little,” and you call someone who yells about crises just to get attention, “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” what do you call someone who makes up a phony crisis while ignoring a real one biting his butt?
Odds & Ends
By Devin D. O'Leary
Dateline: Holland—A group of homeless people are having a little fun in the sun thanks to a faulty ATM. The homeless people were given special state social security cash cards which allow them to take out up to $150 at a time. But a computer glitch at a Fortis Bank cash machine in Rotterdam allowed them to withdraw an unrestricted amount of money, the newspaper de Volkskrant reported. Amounts ranging from $450 to nearly $20,000 ended up being taken out by a group of at least 20 homeless people, and police believe that many of the people involved have gone on vacation with the money. An official with the Pauluskerk homeless shelter in Rotterdam said, “Those who took out large amounts of money have probably left the country and are sunning themselves on a beach in Spain.” More than $100,000 is missing from the Fortis Bank.
As someone the State Bar has seen fit to admit, Attorney Jim Scarantino should know better than he let on in his frenetic piece, "It's Our Money, Spend It!" [Commentary, Feb. 3-9].
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