The Incredible Shrinking Distance Between Bikes And Cars

Apparently, I am not the only one who perceives what I am about to describe.  Moreover (How many times have I used that word on this blog?), there is empirical evidence to back it up.

In New York City, where I live, as well as other American municipalities, there are more bike lanes than at any time since, probably, the 1890s bike boom. Of course, that is not to say that you can get from anywhere to anywhere you want or need to go in a lane separated from traffic, but you can spend at least some of your cycling time secluded from large motor vehicles.

Well, at least in theory, that's possible.  But there is something else that's mitigating against cyclists' safety.  As more "cycling infrastructure" is being built (too often, from misconceptions about cycling and traffic), motor vehicles are getting bigger.  Twenty years ago, a typical family vehicle was a Toyota Camry or some other sedan.  Today, it is a sport-utility vehicle (SUV) like the Kia Ascent or pickup truck like the Ford F-150. As an infographic from Transportation Alternatives shows, that means the typical amount of "elbow room" between a cyclist and a vehicle has shrunk from 18 inches to 4 (46 to 10 cm), a reduction of about 75 percent.

The trend toward larger vehicles began and accelerated well before cities like New York started to build bike lanes.  So, encounters between motor vehicles and cyclists were already getting closer.  That means drivers can't use the excuse that bike lanes were "taking away" their space for driving.  

On the other hand, as I've said in other posts, lines of paint does not a bike lane make.  Many family vehicles*  on the road today take up the entire width of a traffic lane.  So, if someone is driving their Toyota 4Runner to their kid's school or soccer practice and is trying to pass another driver, or has to swerve for any other reason, there's a good chance that the SUV will veer, or even careen, into the bike lane. At least one driver has done exactly that right in front of me.

Of course, a couple of lines of paint or a "neutral" buffer strip between a bike and traffic or parking lane won't protect a cyclist--or change a motorist's behavior--in such a situation.  Then again, so-called "protected" lanes don't, either:  Most of the objects used to segregate lanes, like bollards or planters, are easy to knock over, especially with a multiton vehicle.  

The size and weight of the vehicles presents another problem.  Safety experts say that driving even a mid-sized SUV like the Buick Enclave, let alone a full-sized one like the Cadillac Escalade, is more like driving a truck than a family sedan of the 1990s.  With all due respect to all of those parents who ferry their kids and aging parents, most of them don't have the driving skills of someone who operates a long-hauler.**  So, Sarah or Seth driving their Honda CR-V to pick up Ian or Beth can easily misjudge the distance between them and other vehicles--or pedestrians or cyclists. Worse, the larger size and heavier weight of their vehicles means that a blow that might have struck a pedestrian or cyclist in the middle of their body and caused damage that could be serious but was probably survivable had the vehicle been a Honda Accord or Ford Escort could, instead, trap the benighted person riding along the street or crossing it underneath the grille or the vehicle itself.

So, while the effort, if not the results, to build "bicycle infrastructure" is laudable, it won't make much difference in cycling (or pedestrians') safety if typical family vehicles continue to grow in size, along with the sense of entitlement that some drivers have.

*--I'm not talking about delivery trucks and the like, which have remained more or less constant in size.

**--Although I've never driven such conveyances, I am aware of the differences in driving skills between people who drive them and the average driver:  One of my uncles and a close friend, both departed, drove trucks for a living and another uncle and a cousin did so for significant parts of their working lives.

 

Their E-Bikes Or Their Apartments?

I haven't said much about electric bikes (e-bikes) on this blog.  I have nothing against them:   I simply have no experience with them.  

They are often touted as a "green" alternative to driving.  That's probably true, but I don't expect people to use them instead of their cars for long trips or if they have to carry a lot.  Strictly based on my own observations, I'd say that most people who are riding them to work or wherever are using them as an alternative to mass transportation, walking or a traditional human-powered bicycle, not an automobile.

I also see a fair number of people who seem to be riding them recreationally.  Here in New York City, however, the largest number of e-bike riders seem to be delivery workers of one kind or another.  E-bikes are faster than regular bicycles, at least for most people, so workers can make more deliveries in less time. That's no small consideration, as many workers are paid per delivery.  

Another thing I've noticed is that many of those delivery workers are older than ones I've seen before the advent of e-bikes.  My guess is that the majority are immigrants, many of whom don't speak English or have other marketable skills or credentials recognized in this city or country.  Some are breadwinners, not only for their spouses or partners and kids, but also for extended families, whether here or in their birth countries.  For them, e-bikes are a form of life support, if you will.

It also happens that a good number of those workers live in public housing, a.k.a. "the projects."  

Thus, the New York City Housing Authority's proposal is stirring up a hornet's nest of controversy.  The rationale for it is the Fire Department's report stating that, to date, 104 fires have been caused by lithium-ion batteries, the power source of electric bikes.

In NYCHA's proposal, "residents and their guests may not keep or charge e-bikes or e-batteries in apartments or in common areas of NYCHA buildings."  The agency defines "common areas" as "included but not limited to stairs, halls, laundries, community rooms, storage rooms, walks, drives, playgrounds and parking areas."  In effect, NYCHA wants to ban e-bikes on all of its property.  Workers wonder whether this will cause them to be targeted if they even enter the grounds of a NYCHA complex to make a delivery.

Nathaniel Hill won't be able to keep his e-bike under a NYCHA proposal. Photo by Noah Martz, for Streetsblog.

While it's true that there is a fire hazard, and a fire can cause a greater number of casualties in a densely-populated housing complex, residents and advocates see the proposal as discriminatory, as electric cars are allowed to park in NYCHA lots and Citibike e-bikes park in docks adjacent to NYCHA buildings.  Also, the proposal, if enacted would put delivery workers who live in NYCHA buildings in an impossible situation. "Nobody should be forced to choose between keeping their housing or keeping their job," said Transportation Alternatives' Senior Organizer Juan Restrepo. He suggests that Mayor Eric Adams come up with other solutions, such as public charging stations and secure parking areas.  

 

If They Can Park, They Might Pedal

In earlier posts, I’ve lamented the poor conception, design and construction of too many bike lanes in New York, my hometown, and elsewhere.  

Sometimes I feel that a bike lane that doesn’t provide a safe, useful route to schools, workplaces or other forms of transportation (like trains or ferries)—or a truly interesting or physically invigorating ride between parks, museums, shopping areas or anything else people might want to visit—is worse than no bike lane.  

Such shoddy bicycle infrastructure, I believe, does nothing to encourage people to even consider the bicycle as a healthy, economical, environmentally conscious—-and safe—alternative to driving or other forms of transportation or recreation.

If urban planners and other policy-makers can’t or won’t come up with bike lanes that make sense or other useful infrastructure, I would rather that they provided good bicycle parking, whether curbside or in protected areas.  That might do more than anything else to entice people into the saddle.

At least, more and better bike parking would augment other initiatives, such as bike share programs.  That is the premise of a report issued by Transportation Alternatives, an organization of which I am a member.

Park At The Met

Yesterday I contrasted the anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" with the speeches of the Republican National Convention, which ended the night before.

Speaking of dreams: One of mine has long been to have indoor, or at least protected, bicycle parking at museums.  Well, that dream has just come true--for a while, and at one institution, anyway.

Today the Metropolitan Museum of Art is, like the Statue of Liberty* and a few other New York City museums and landmarks, re-opening to the public.  Visitors must purchase tickets and schedule their visits in advance.  Upon arrival, their temperatures will be checked and anyone who is 38C (100.4 F) or higher will be asked to visit on another day.

Some visitors, however, will be treated like VIPs.  From today until 27 September, "the Met" is offering valet bicycle parking at its Fifth Avenue plaza, just north of the steps to its main entrance.  An initiative by Kenneth Weine, the museum's vice president of external affairs, resulted in a partnership with Transportation Alternatives that brought about the parking arrangement.

Weine, who describes himself as an "avid biker," routinely rides from his Brooklyn home to work.  The museum has tripled bike parking capacity for staff in an effort to encourage more cycling to work.  Weine lauds the city for developing more bike lanes and says that "if we can be one extra link in that chain" by "offering an additional way for people to come to the museum, we're happy to do it."

In other posts on this blog, I have said that cycling enhances my perceptions of art, and that some art should be seen only after riding a bicycle to reach it.  I wonder whether Weine, or other museum administrators or curators, feel the same way.

An Essential Worker Gets What He Needs

If you've been reading this blog, you might remember that back in June, I got a 1996 Cannondale M300 mountain bike for not much money.  I fixed it up and turned it into a pretty decent city commuter.

It was actually good for the purpose:  I could ride it over almost any pothole or other obstacle without thinking.  It gave a smooth, fairly responsive ride, but I didn't have to worry about parking it because, in ten different shades of battleship gray, it didn't attract much attention.

So why am I talking about the bike in the past tense?  Well, I learned that Transportation Alternatives, of which I am a member, was participating in a program to give bikes to essential workers who are trying to avoid the subways and buses as they run less frequently and are thus more crowded. (Subway cars and buses been described as "Petri dishes" for coronavirus.)

I have my Fuji Allegro, which had been sharing commuting duties with the Cannondale--and had been my commuter before the 'Dale came along.  I got to thinking:  I have two commuter bikes and I'm not commuting.  Someone else has to commute and doesn't have a bike.

So why did I decide to give the Cannondale away?  Even though I installed upright bars, fenders and a rack, it's still a fairly close to its original self.  The Fuji, on the other hand, is a bit more idiosyncratic: The ways in which I altered it might not appeal to everyone.  Also, it fits me better than the 'Dale--and it's a mixte.

I sent Transportation Alternatives the bike's measurements and my height.  They found Georgios,an emergency-room doctor at Mount Sinai Hospital-Queens, just two blocks from where I live.  He's a little shorter than I am, and the bike has a long seatpost extended fairly far out, so the bike could be adjusted fit him well.

Georgios:  a hero.

The other night, when he finished his shift, we met.  Georgios, who's from Greece, told me his bike had been stolen and since the pandemic struck New York, he had been walking to work from Manhattan--about eight kilometers--because he didn't want to take the subway.

He'd applied to Specialized bike- match program, but all the bikes were gone, he told me.  He said, almost apologetically, that if Specialized contacts him and offers a bike, he'll pass the Cannondale on to someone else who needs it.  I told him not to worry:  If he likes the Cannondale, he should keep it, even if another bike comes along.  Besides, I am not about to place conditions on anything I give to someone who, in the course of doing his job, has seen patients as well as co-workers die.

I'm having a bad hair day--and week--and month!

All I asked is that he stay in touch: I want to be sure he's OK.  And I hope the bike is useful and brings pleasure for him.

Citibikes Are Nice, But We Need More Bike Racks

In New York City, my hometown, 460,000 daily trips were made by bicycle.  That is up from 270,000 trips in 2011--a 70 percent increase.

Some of that, of course, has to do with the Citibike share program, which launched in 2013.  The operative word here is "some":  Many more cyclists are riding to work on their own bicycles.

During the past four fiscal years, the city has set up an average of 1633 new racks.  Now, what do you think the average was during the previous four years?

2808.  In other words, 42 percent fewer racks have been installed during the past four years, which have fallen squarely in Bill de Blasio's administration, than in the previous four, which were mainly under Mike Bloomberg's administration.

What that means is that the city lacks "essential infrastructure" needed if bicycling is truly to become a transportation option, according to Bike New York spokesman Jon Orcutt.  "Everybody's talking about Citibikes and scooters, but it's the humble rack that needs more attention," added Orcutt, who served as the city's Department of Transportation policy director under Bloomberg.

Citibikes are fine for commuting if there's a bike port near your home and another near your workplace--that is, if there are available bikes when you leave for work and if there's an available space in the dock when you get to your job.  

You can ride your own bike, but there might not be a dedicated bike rack or other safe facility at your destination. Or, if there is such a facility, there might not be any space available when you arrive--or it might simply be unusable for whatever reason.

So, you look for a signpost, lamppost or other seemingly immovable object--which aren't as impervious to bike thieves as they seem.  And they might be full, too. Then, you lock to fencing, scaffolding or even a waste basket.  I've even seen a bike locked to the chain that holds the cap to a fire hydrant.

Those things, of course, are easy work for a thief who has the time you spend in your workplace or classroom.  Rose Uscianowski, an organizer for Transportation Alternatives, learned that the hard way when she locked her bike to scaffolding in front of a building on John Street, in the city's financial district.  "I came out of my office and found a bar of scaffolding on the floor and my bike missing," she lamented.  "The only reason I locked up to scaffolding is that there are only a few racks on John Street, and they're always taken up."

Even scarcer are racks by subway stations or other public transportation facilities.  For people who live in areas that are a mile or more from the nearest subway or bus station--which is the case for people in the outlying areas of Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx, and for nearly everybody in Staten Island--truly having the option of riding to transit and feeling more or less certain that your bike will be there when you return might do as much, or more than, congestion pricing or other proposed methods to reduce traffic.

Plus, I think that making bike-parking facilities available at public transportation stations will help the public to see that cycling is a transportation alternative for people from all walks (pardon the pun) of life rather than the plaything of the young and privileged, and tourists.

E-Bikes: An Immigrants'-Rights Issue?

The other day, I admitted that I have aimed an impolite hand gesture at inconsiderate motorists.  I have also used more than a few words, in a few languages (hey, I'm in New York) that aren't fit for a family blog.

(Is this a family blog?)

I have also made those same gestures and hurled those same verbal missiles at e-bike riders who have come out of nowhere and cut across intersections, or in front of me.  Afterward, I feel a little guilty:  After all, I was once a bike messenger and understand how difficult it is to make a living from making deliveries.  I'll bet that some of them, after a day of delivering pepperoni pizzas or Korean tacos, may not have a meal to bring home to their families--or for themselves.

Even though I sometimes wish that all of those e-bikes would turn into real, I mean pedal, bikes, I realize that some of those delivery guys (nearly all of them are male) have to continue in the same line of work even as their bodies are giving out on them.  I also know that nearly all of them are immigrants, some of whom can speak English very little if at all, and may not have many (if any) other marketable skills.

If those guys stopped making deliveries, the city would come to a standstill.  All right, perhaps I'm exaggerating just a bit.  I have to wonder, though, what some folks would do if they couldn't have their diner dishes or trattoria treats delivered to them after a long day at work--or if said meals were to double in price.

So if the problem is not that those workers use e-bikes, what is it?  

Well, not all e-bikes are created equal.  Here in New York, there are basically three classes.  Class 1 e-bikes are the pedal-assisted variety and attain top speeds of 20MPH.  Recently, Mayor de Blasio declared them perfectly legal in this city.  Class 2 and 3 bikes are throttle-operated and not legal in the Big Apple.

You might have guessed where the rub is:  Most deliveries are done on Class 2 and 3 bikes because, well, they're faster and don't require pedaling.  The fine for operating such machines is $500 per day--more than most delivery workers make in a week.  Worse, the police can and do confiscate these bikes, which leaves workers unable to provide for their families--and lots of yuppies and hipsters hungry.

Transportation Alternatives is therefore circulating a petition calling for, among other things, guidelines and requirements--as well as a program that provides financial and practical assistance--for converting Class 2 and 3 bikes to Class 1.  In addition, the petition calls for a moratorium on e-bike enforcement until the regulatory framework has been fully implemented, and the workers, NYPD and public are educated about the changes.

So, while I hope that I won't stop pedaling until someone can stick a fork in me, I don't want to deprive immigrants of income for themselves and their families.  After all, who else will my General Tso's Chicken while I'm binge-watching The Golden Girls?

Now They'll Know I Rode To Work Today!

Many, many years ago, I attended Catholic school.  Like my classmates, I went to confession every Friday and mass on Sunday. 

You weren't supposed to receive Holy Communion unless you'd confessed your sins.  Of course, that meant just about all of us who went to the Catholic school partook of that most important (by the Church's reckoning, anyway) sacrament. I always wanted to ask how God saw whatever sins you might've committed between the time you went to confession and mass.

Not that I was so worried about receiving communion.  After all, how many kids look forward to having  flat, flavorless wafers put in their mouths and having to kneel, with eyes shut, and pray (or pretend to, anyway) silently as long as those wafers are in their mouths?  Most kids probably wonder--as I did--why the wafer couldn't at least taste like chocolate or something?

Then there was something else we received from the church, if once a year:  ashes.  I know that having charcoal or whatever rubbed on your forehead is supposed to symbolize that to which we return, or some such thing.  On Ash Wednesday, we were all supposed to be so marked.  The nuns treated us juuust a little better (they were nuns, after all!) if we were. 

Some people--usually old (or, at least, they seemed that way to us)--used to walk a little prouder--or, perhaps, just a little more smugly--with the smudges on their foreheads in full view.  It was as if they had to show the world--God?--that they were indeed devout Catholics.  Because they were older, I used to wonder whether that mark would help them if they fell down dead.  Would God recognize them that much sooner and whisk them into their eternal reward?

I got to thinking about this, oddly, because today is Ride Your Bike To Work Day. Now, those of us who normally ride to work don't give it a second thought.  About the only thing I did differently was to stop at the Transportation Alternatives table on the Bronx side of the Willis Avenue Bridge for their free coffee (which was pretty good, actually) and Kind bars. (I like the Blueberry Almond and Honey Oat!)  And, oh yeah, to renew my membership.

Since I normally ride to work and my co-workers and friends know it, I don't feel the need to show it.  But I got to thinking about how I might show off my concern for the environment and all of those other things that commuting by bike are supposed to signify, if I were so inclined.

Here's one way:

 

All Aboard The Bike Train

If you grew up in the US, or have studied American History, you know that the Underground Railroad isn't the New York City subway system and, in fact, has nothing to do with steel wheels screeching on tracks.

Likewise, a Bike Train isn't something Amtrak or any other railroad system has set aside for us.  It refers to a group of cyclists who ride, in a train, and are joined by other cyclists along the way.

I'll confess that I just learned about Bike Trains when I received a BikeNYC e-mail from Transportation Alternatives.  The cycling concatenation in question begins at the very upper end of Manhattan, near the Cloisters, and wends its way down the Hudson River Greenway to Midtown.  It departs at 8 on Friday mornings and is intended to provide "safety in numbers."

Bike Train in Brighton, England

More than two decades ago, I lived not far from the train's starting point.  Back then, they probably wouldn't have picked up very many cyclists until the caravan reached the area around Columbia University, nearly five miles to the south.  Or they may have had to go even further downtown before they had anything that could be called, without irony, a train.

 

Pedaling In Protest

Last night,  I stayed out late, but with good reason.

I volunteered to help the Anti-Violence Project with its outreach.  That meant handing out cards with safety tips and "survival" packets (consisting of male and female condoms and cards with emergency phone numbers) in the Village.  I worked with two other volunteers--one male, the other female, but both named Dan--until about 10 pm.

At the end of our "shift", we came to the Stonewall Inn just in time for a commemoration of the historic event that made the bar famous.  On the night of 28 June 1969, cops showed  up to raid the place.  Such raids of gay bars, most of which were operated by the Mafia, were common in those days.  But on that particular night, bar patrons defied the police.  Several nights of rioting ensued.

In all of the photos I've seen from those demonstrations, I haven't seen anyone on a bicycle.  Admittedly, few adults cycled in New York--or just about anywhere in the US--in those days.  

Now, of course, it's common to see cyclists involved in public protests:  The Occupy demonstrations come to mind. I don't know when bicycles first became a regular feature of  street protests, but I suspect that moment may have come (at least in New York) in 1980.  Then, cyclists rallied to prevent then-Mayor Ed Koch from removing the bike lanes the city had only recently installed:

Hal Ruzal, the longtime mechanic of Bicycle Habitat (and the person who turned me on to Mercians) took this photo.  He and CHarlie McCorkle, the owner and founder of Habitat,  helped to organize those demonstrations.  In those days, the cycling community was smaller and, in many ways, tighter-knit than it is today.  

I wonder whether Charlie, Hal or any of those other cyclists (who comprised much of the early membership of a fledling organization called Transportation Alternatives) had any idea that they were changing the face of public gatherings.

When Chattering Bike Geeks Perform A Public Service

If your bike is stolen in New York City, you have about a two percent chance of getting it back.  

Agata Slota didn't expect to beat those odds.  Her bike--which her brother built for her--was lifted near Union Square five years ago.  She posted an ad and photo on Craigslist.  A week later, they expired and she had not received any responses. She and her boyfriend started to plan on a replacement.

However, a friend posted the photo and an announcement of the theft on an online chat room for fixed-gear enthusiasts.  Several weeks later, someone posted a response after seeing Ms. Slota's bike locked up outside a Quizno's restaurant in Midtown.  This led to a series of a series of messages that resulted in Ms. Slota getting her bike back.

Jack Drury, a former bike messenger who was interning at Transportation Altenatives, was one of the people who read the post.  He went to the Quizno's restaurant.  The bike wasn't there, but on a hunch, he went inside and talked to the person behind the counter, who said the bike belonged to a delivery man who paid $200 for it. 

After negotiating a deal to buy the bike, Drury then enlisted a group of volunteers to go with him to the Quizno's, where the man with the bike was supposed to meet them.  He didn't show, but another employee told them about the man's second job as a dishwasher in an Upper West Side restaurant.  So Drury and his posse rode uptown where they met the man, who wasn't a very enthusiastic negotiator.  Drury then pulled out his cellphone and dialed the police.  While he was waiting to be connected, the man gave in.

Drury doesn't believe the man stole the bike and doesn't harbor any ill will toward him.  In fact, he offered the man one of his own bicycles and gave him his number. He hasn't heard back.

Needless to say, Ms. Slota has become more vigilant about bike theft.  From Drury, she learned not to lock her bike to a horizontal bar of a construction scaffold, as it is fairly easy to unscrew.  Better to lock it to the vertical post. 

She applied that lesson recently, when she saw two men admiring a Bianchi track bike in the way prospective thieves would.  When she asked the men about the bike, they took off.  Then, she got one of her own locks out of her office and secured the bike (which had been attached to the horizontal bar) to the vertical bar.    

She left a note with her phone number, and a message that she would unlock the bike after its owner called her.  Clearly, her own experiences motivated her to help prevent something similar (though with the probability of a less-happy outcome) from happening to somebody else.

And she's still riding the bike her brother built for her.