Destroying What They “Didn’t See”

At the end of my block—where Crescent Street meets Broadway in Astoria, Queens—there is a row of on-street bike racks.

Like other such racks in New York and a few other cities, it’s at the end of a parking lane that’s supposed to serve as a “barrier” between the bike and traffic lane.  Too often, though, drivers turn it into a passing lane.  On one occasion, a ride-share driver barged into the Crescent Street lane a couple of SUV lengths behind me, blaring his horn and his mouth. I have seen other incidents like it.

That is the reason I don’t use those racks:

I don’t know whether the driver who “taco’ed” that rear wheel and frame did so deliberately. If they did and were caught, I can imagine their defense: “I didn’t see it!”

That is what a driver in Portland claimed after causing this:

That bike was its owner’s sole means of transportation. Worse yet, she—Cole—witnessed its destruction from across the street. In talking to the driver who made the claim she deemed “dubious,” she noticed  that his SUV, which took out a whole row of bikes in addition to hers, had no license plates. She got his name and contact information and contacted the police who, not surprisingly, didn’t seem interested.

She would appreciate monetary help in buying a new bike. I have to wonder whether the owner of the wrecked bike at the end of my block could replace it. I don’t have to wonder, however, about this: whether other bikes have met untimely ends in supposedly “safe” bike parking corrals.

If you want to contribute to Cole’s next bike, you could send to her CashApp account—$colesodcash—or to Jonathan Maus, the etditor and publisher of Bike Portland, who will forward it to her.

(The first two photos are mine. The others are from Bike Portland.)

At Least He Won’t Get Away With Murder—We Hope

Today, I am going to give you some advice you probably didn’t expect to find on this blog.

Here goes: In North America, if you want to get away with killing someone  run over that person with a car, truck, bus or other motorized vehicle.For one thing, dead victims can’t tell their side of the story.  So, even with the worst lawyer (or no lawyer), the most egregiously aggressive or careless driver can make him or her self seem blameless. 

For another, North America has had a “car culture” for a century.  Roads and intersections are therefore built or re-configured to convey motorized traffic as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Such a mentality among planners has inculcated a few generations of Americans with the not heir physical fitness—is somehow a second-class citizen, at best.

Such attitudes, combined with anger at whatever or whomever or with any other mental disturbance, often lead drivers to believe they have the right to run down cyclists.  Such an attitude, I think, nearly turned Sacramento cycling advocate Sherry Martinez into such a victim.

“I have four broken ribs, a fractured clavicle, a partial collapsed lung from a collision “I can’t remember,” she said from her hospital bed.  Fortunately for her, there are people who remember it:  members of the small group of cyclists with whom she was riding, as well as other witnesses.

Their testimony, and witnesses’ photos, confirmed the charge against 30-year-old Caleb Taubman: He deliberately drove his pickup truck at Martinez.

In other words, he’s been charged with assault with a deadly weapon.  Members of Sacramento’s cycling community have engaged in a letter-writing campaign urging the district attorney to prosecute Taubman to the fullest extent of the law.

Taubman has been released and awaits his first court date.  Whenever it is, he is on a more certain timeline than that of Sherry Martinez She has no exact date when she!l be well enough to discharged from the hospital. And I imagine that when she’s released, she’ll still have a long road to recovery ahead of her.

At least Caleb Taubman won’t get away with murder—we hope.

He Had To Watch A Cyclist

As the majority of Americans support equality for LGBTQ people, women, members of racial and ethnic "minorities," the disabled and others who have been marginalized, those on the other side--who see rights they've always enjoyed as "special privileges" when extended to members of the groups of people I've mentioned--become more virulent, vicious and even violent in expressing anger at having to share their privilege.

Among the empowered are motorists who think the roads are theirs, and theirs alone.  They accuse us--cyclists, pedestrians and users of mass transportation--as being subsidized by tax dollars (which, too often, the privileged don't even pay).   Some among them think they have a "right" to express their umbrage in whatever way they choose--even if it endangers or kills the objects of their rage.

While I still interact, thankfully, with many courteous drivers--especially those who drive trucks--I have also had more charged interactions with aggressive drivers than I can recall in some time.  On the return leg of a ride to Connecticut, just as I was crossing the state line at Glenville and King Streets, some guy who looked like his wife hadn't given him any since Obama's first term pulled up alongside me, in his pickup truck, just so he could shout "Fuck you!" 

While the temperature has risen, so to speak, since Trump first ran for President, I can't put all of the blame on him (as tempting as that may be).  Rather, I've noticed that some celebrities--mostly male, all of them privileged by their wealth and fame-- expressing veiled and not-so-veiled hostility toward those who aren't "the cool kids" in their eyes.  A while back, Whoopi Goldberg whined, on The View, about the chauffered drive to her gated community being slowed down by, oh, 7 seconds or so, by a cyclist.  Now it seems that "comedian" Paul Costabile, who seems to sneer with the smugness of a bully who knows that nobody will fight him, took a video of himself taunting a cyclist who was riding as far to the right as he could.

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A post shared by 🇵🇭Dino /deee•no/ not /dy•no/ (@_deeeno)

The worst part, though, is that Costabile is taking the video while driving.  Now, unless he's employing some trick of which I'm not aware, he's leaning as he's driving with one hand.  So, he's endangering the cyclist even more than he would have had he simply shouted slurs and curses out his window.

In the meantime, Costablile whined about having to watch that rider "work his glutes."  Sounds to me like he's insecure:  He looks like he can use some time with his feet on two pedals rather one foot on one pedal.  

That, of course, is what causes the privileged to pick on those who've just won the same rights they've always enjoyed:  It's scary for those who've enjoyed power and privilege to realize that other people could actually challenge their place in the social, political and economic heirarchy.  We, as cyclists, do that by our presence:  It shows motorists that the roads don't "belong" only to them.

Note:  The video in this post was deleted from Instagram.  However, I was able to post it thanks to a screengrab by @_deeno.

Cyclist Pays Price For Dollar Van

Some of my most harrowing encounters have been with "dollar vans."

For those of you who don't live here in New York City, dollar vans typically operate in "transportation deserts" that are far from subway and bus routes.  While they follow more or less set routes, their itineraries or schedules are not published; rather, people usually learn of them by word of mouth.

Dollar vans are said to have begun during the 1980 transit strike.  At that time, the New York City transit fare was 50 cents; after the strike, it climbed to 60 cents (and to 75 cents a year later, now it's $2.75). The vans operated all over the city, as they would during the 2005 transit workers' walkout. Between those labor actions, and since then, the  vans have served mainly the aforementioned "deserts".  

This might sound good, even though the ride now costs $2.00, but the problem is that these vans are not as regulated as taxis or even Uber-type car services are in New York.  So, if you take a dollar van, you run a greater risk of riding in an unsafe (not to mention unsanitary) vehicle.  Also, because there is so little regulation, drivers tend to be more aggressive and sometimes get into fights with each other over passengers and routes.  Plus, more than one accident investigation has revealed that the driver of a dollar van had a suspended drivers' license--or no drivers' license at all.  And no insurance.

Finally, at least in my experience, dollar van drivers' aggression toward each other is, too often, transferred to anyone and anything else they encounter on the road.  It's not uncommon for them to cut off other drivers, or to drive at pedestrians or cyclists who have the right of way.  I think the only reason dollar van drivers don't hit more cyclists than they do is that, well, there aren't as many cyclists in the neighborhoods where they operate as, ironically, in the more transportation-rich areas.

I was reminded of what I've just described yesterday, when I heard about a woman on a bicycle who was struck by a dollar van at Flatbush Avenue and Avenue U, in a decidedly un-hipster neighborhood of Brooklyn.   



The driver thought he was going to get away with it when he leapt from his car and began to run.  Fortunately, though, a bunch of people who just happened to be there tackled the guy.  


I hope the woman recovers.  Last I heard, she was in "serious but stable" condition and faces losing a leg.

Wearing Your Message On Your Sleeve (Or On Your Chest And Back, Anyway)

I stopped wearing bike-specific clothing (except for gloves and helmets) years ago.  I just might start again, at least in response to folks like Peter King and Heath Evans.

Actually, I would have a whole wardrobe of cycling tops.   For rides in which the possibility of encountering homicidal drivers is relatively low, I might wear this:

For times when there's a greater chance of a brush with a drunk or simply inconsiderate motorist--I could slip into this:

On days (or nights) when there might be more careless drivers--and there is a chance that one might be somewhat homicidal--I could sport this:

Finally, when it seems every other person behind a steering wheel has regressed to the emotional age of twelve, this just might set the right tone:

These jerseys are on Active.com.