What's Stopping Them From Biking To Work?

It's rained nonstop, sometimes torrentially, since early Sunday morning. And it's been unseasonably cold.  My friend Millie remarked, "The weather is always nasty on Mother's Day but nice on Father's Day."

I mused that the weather might be a metaphor for a mother's life and a father's life, or a woman's and a man's.  Or, perhaps, it means that God really is a man--and one who hates women, at that.

She, who's enough of a Catholic to believe that if she lives right, she'll join her husband John in Heaven, laughed.

About the weather: That it comes during Bike to Week work seems like a conspiracy.  I used to know someone who believed that the CIA controlled the weather.  I could believe that, at least for the past few days, the clouds and precipitation have been regulated by someone who hates cyclists.

Now, this weather might deter someone who was thinking about riding his or her bike to work or school for the first time.  It doesn't seem to have driven most of the regular bike commuters to the subway or buses.  And, yes, I rode to work, but I haven't done a "fun" ride since Saturday.

While the rain might not be a disincentive for die-hard veteran bike commuters, this could be

You have to admit, though, that there is something ironic about a Department of Transportation vehicle in the approach to the Queensborough Bridge bike lane:

Thank you, Coleman Barton, for the image--and tweet.

We'll Cross That Bridge---When Traffic Allows!

Last night, I stayed at work later than I'd planned.  I figured it would be easier to finish grading a bunch of papers in my office than at home.

That meant I couldn't go via Randall's Island, as the Queens spur of the RFK Bridge closed for repairs at 8 pm.  So I rode into Manhattan via the Willis Avenue Bridge, which lets cyclists off at 125th Street and First Avenue.  It was already past 9:30 by the time I got on my bike, but I figured that if I channeled the messenger I once was, I might get to the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge path before it closed for repairs at 10pm.

Well, things didn't quite work that way.  The Queensborough path was indeed closed when I got there.  At least a bus is provided.  Actually, there's a bus and a truck.  Each cyclist is given a number for his or her bike as it's loaded onto the truck.  The bus follows it across the bridge.

Not a bad arrangement, right?  Well, the bus and truck are nice, and the drivers are prompt and helpful.  There are two problems, though.  One is motor traffic on the Bridge:  I never realized there would be so much after 10 pm! The other is that the bus and truck have to take circuitous routes to get onto the bridge, and once they leave the bridge, as some streets are one-way and others are narrow and don't allow buses or trucks.



So, it took about 45 minutes from the time we left 59th Street and First Avenue in Manhattan until we disembarked on 23rd Street at Queensborough Plaza.  In other words, that trip took  twice as long as it took me to pedal from my job, at 149th Street and Grand Concourse in the Bronx, to 59th Street and First Avenue in Manhattan!





I won't whine about the inconvenience:  We got across the bridge safely and as quickly as conditions would allow.  And, as I said, the drivers and truck-loaders were courteous and helpful.  I can't help but to think, though, that whatever reduction in carbon emissions any of us might have acheived by riding from wherever to the Bridge was negated by all the time the bus and truck was stuck in traffic on the Bridge.

Diverting My Commute Through History

The bike/pedestrian lane on the Queens spur of the RFK Memorial (a.k.a. Triborough) Bridge has been closed for "painting and repairs."  The signs said the lane would be closed from 9 am to 5 pm from the 1st to the 26th of this month.  I didn't figure that it would affect me much, if at all, since I always go in to work before 9 and usually am heading home after 5.

Last Tuesday, however, I didn't leave work until 8 pm.  I pedaled across the Randall's Island connector and the island to the Queens spur of the bridge.  There, the gate was still locked, with the same sign announcing its closure.

All right, I told myself.  Maybe they just forgot to reopen it.  That night, it meant backtracking to the north end of the island and the Manhattan spur of the bridge.  Then I rode down Second Avenue from 125th Street to the Queensborough (a.k.a. 59th Street) Bridge.  It was a longer commute home, but I didn't mind, really.

Well, the Queens spur of the RFK hasn't been opened since.  No one from the Department of Transportation has returned my calls.  (Should I be surprised?)  So, I've been taking another route to and from work.  To get to the Bronx, I've been crossing the Queensborough to First Avenue, which has a bike lane all the way up to 125th Street.  From there, I take the Willis Avenue Bridge into the Bronx.  It's not bad, really:  Above 96th Street, there isn't much traffic, and below, there are other cyclists so, if nothing else, we're visible, though one has to watch for pedestrians who step into the lane while looking at their electronic devices or simply not looking at anything in their surroundings.  One place where you have to be careful  is at 96th Street, where traffic enters and exits the FDR Drive and there are several schools, a hospital and the largest mosque in the US within a two-block radius. 

(Along the way I passed several fruit sellers.  I stopped at one and bought my first cherries of the season.)

I often think that I ride, write and teach for the same reason:  to learn.  Well, today, I did just that on the Willis Avenue Bridge--or, more specifically, what's below the Bronx side of it:

 

Now, I know it looks like just another lot in an industrial landscape.  But this plaque, on the bridge, told of its significance:

It may be hard to believe that until 1840, most of the Bronx was farmland or woods.  That changed when the railroad cut through the area around that lot, which is now crisscrossed by highways, bridges and railroad tracks. 

Port Morris--the part of the South Bronx by the bridge--became the first commercial and industrial area of the Bronx.  (In fact, one nearby section became the nation's center of piano-making and has recently been dubbed "The Piano District" by realtors who are envisioning the next DUMBO.)  It also became a railroad center, which is why the roundhouse was built on the site under the bridge. 

Hmm...You never know what a slight change in your daily commute can teach you, eh?

Misty Morning Ride

The last couple of mornings, heavy fogs have shrouded the Queensborough Bridge towers.  

The cyclist you see in this photo soon disappeared as he descended through the fog on the Manhattan side of the bridge.

The Upper East Side, Long Island City, Astoria, Roosevelt Island and the the southern tip of the Bronx all seemed to dissolve into a soup of steel pores and ashen light that the East River had become.  

I actually enjoy riding on a misty morning.  Perhaps it's because I have no choice but to focus on what's around, rather than ahead of, me.  

From Wheels To Feet

Nearly every cyclist has had the experience of cycling, for the first time, some street, road, lane or landscape over which he or she had previously walked or driven.

Today I had the inverse of that experience:  Walking, for the first time, a lane I had cycled many, many times before.

Marley had a medical emergency.  To my knowledge, the only place where I could take him on a Sunday morning is the Humane Society, just a block away from the Manhattan side of the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge.  The subway neaerest to me (two blocks) stops only a block from the Humane Society.  I reasoned (correctly) that it probably be a quicker trip in a car (assuming I could get someone to drive me on such short notice) or even a taxi, if I could find one.  

Riding my bike might have been even quicker, but rigging a secure way to carry him would have taken even more time, probably, than the ride.  Also, I wasn't sure of how he'd take to being on a bike and, because he was sick, I didn't want to the anxiety he was already feeling.

So I took the "N" train to the Lexington Avenue and 59th Street station. Marley will remain at the Humane Society's treatment center for two, possibly three nights.  That meant, of course, that today I returned home without him.

If I were to ride from the Humane Society to my apartment, I would cover about three and a half miles, which would probably take me anywhere between ten and fourteen minutes, depending on which bike I rode, how I rode and what conditions I encountered en route.  Walking, as it turns out, is slightly shorter, distance-wise, as I can walk up a couple of one-way streets (including the one on which I live) around which I would have to detour were I using wheels.  However, the walk took nearly an hour, or five to six times the time I would need to cycle it.

Those facts of time and distance came as no surprise to me.   However, I was not prepared for a sensation I had while walking across the bridge's bike/pedestrian lane:  I felt nearly naked, and a bit vulnerable.  The heat and humidity that smothered us for the past week finally broke today, so even more cyclists crossed the bridge, in both directions, than would normally transverse it on a Sunday.  The lane is just wide enough for about three cyclists travelling abreast of each other in either direction, and even though the lane is divided (with paint) between cyclists and pedestrians, it's all but impossible to remain in one way or another.  If you're cycling in one direction, you're going to dodge cyclists (and, sometimes, skateboarders and scooter-riders) in the opposite direction, as well as tourists taking in the panorama.

Back in the day, not nearly as many cyclists used the bridge as use it today, and there were no skateboarders, rollerbladers or scooters.  If I recall correctly, those of us who cycled, walked or ran used a lane on the north side of the bridge.  (I didn't use the Queensborough regularly in those days, as I lived in Manhattan, then Brooklyn.)  The current lane rims the south side.  If there is/was indeed a lane on the north side, I wonder why it's no longer open.  Did it fall into disrepair?  I think the number of cyclists who use the bridge (and walk) will continue to grow, not only because more people are commuting or going into Manhattan to shop, dine and such, but also becuase--in a phenomenon all but unheard-of two decades ago--tourists are actually coming to Queens. 

Therefore, if there is a north lane, it should be repaired and opened.  If there isn't, one should be built.  Then, those of us who ride, walk, run, skateboard or otherwise travel motor-free between Queens and Manhattan will have the same choice as those who take the Manhattan Bridge, which has bike/pedestrian lanes on both its north and south sides.

How Real New York Cyclists Cross The East River

When you live in any place--especially a major city--for any period of time, you realize that there are certain "things only tourists do".

For example, Parisians don't visit the Eiffel Tower or go to le Boulevard des Champs-Elysees unless they absolutely must.  And, no Parisian--unless he or she is a student or oherwise on a really tight budget--eats in the cubbyhole restaurants and frites stands along la rue de la Huchette, known locally as Allee des Bacteries.

(OK, so I went up the Eiffel Tower once.  But I was new to town at the time!)

Likewise, New Yorkers don't go to the Statue of Liberty or Radio City Music Hall.  We also don't go to the Empire State Building unless we work there.  (The same held true for the World Trade Center.)

What don't New York cyclists do?  Well, the first thing that comes to my mind is this:

From nycentralparktours

These days,  no Big Apple bike rider pedals across the Brooklyn Bridge unless he or she is part of an organized ride-or under extreme duress.

Of course, at one time there was almost no other practical way for a cyclist to cross between Brooklyn and Manhattan.  For many years, the bike/pedestrian lanes of the Manhattan Bridge were closed.  (Recently, the north walkway reopened, making the Manhattan the only New York City crossing with more than one usable bike lane. )  And, if you entered the Williamsburg Bridge, you really had to wonder whether you and your bike would both make it to the other side:  If the condition of the walkway didn't shake you or your bike apart, you and your bike might be parted from each other en route by someone who, shall we say, knew that you were riding a good bike but had absolutely no intention of riding it himself. (Yes, the thugs were all male in those days

But now, the condition of the Williamsburg has greatly improved and, while we might bemoan the proliferation of hipsters in the neighborhoods on either side of the bridge, you have to say at least this much for them:  They're not going to mug you for your bike.  And the north lane of the Manhattan Bridge offers easy access to one bike lane that actually makes sense: the one that separates cyclists from the traffic entering and exiting the bridge and expressways at Sands Street in Brooklyn.

Plus, there are now daytime ferries between Brooklyn and Manhattan.  I've seen people ride their bikes to the boats in Williamsburg and Grand Army Terminal and disembark at Wall Street.

So now New York cyclists don't use the Brooklyn Bridge, not to show how sophisticated they are, but because, at times, it seems as if all of humanity is walking across it.  And, of course, they're not watching for cyclists:  They're craning their necks, taking photos, embracing, eating, drinking or doing almost anything else you can imagine.  And stateboarders are weaving among them. 

So, it's much easier to ride over the Queensborough (what I usually take, as I live near it), Williamsburgh or Manhattan Bridges to Manhattan.  Besides, if you want a view of the Brooklyn Bridge (and the lower New York harbor), your best bet is the south walkway/bike path of the Manhattan.

 

A Crash I Just Missed

I had just pedaled up the ramp on the Manhattan side of the Queensborough (a.k.a 59th Street) Bridge.  Two men and a woman, abreast each other,  spread themselves across the pedestrian side and into the side marked for bikes of the bike/pedestrian lane.  One of the men was stretching and craning his neck to snap photos of the city's skyline and the Roosevelt Island finiculaire; the other man and the woman were neither doing nor paying attention to anything in particular.  

As I had pedaled up the ramp from a dead stop at the bottom (courtesy of a man who was texting somebody and crossed into my path), I was riding slowly.  From the opposite direction, three young-looking, lycra-clad young men pedalled and spun at a much faster speed.  Still, I figured I had enough time and space to pedal around the photographer and his friends and that, by the time the three young cyclists were ready to ride around them, I would be well past the midpoint of the bridge.

My highly unscientific calculations proved to be entirely correct.  I was well past the photographer and his friends when the young male cyclists rode around them.  And I probably never would have thought about them, or the photographer and his mates, again.

But then I heard the thumping, clanging and clattering of metal and human flesh colliding as if sucked into a vortex or carbon fiber.  The cyclists were a few wheel lengths past the photographer and his travelling companions, but I don't think they had anything to do with the pileup.  To their credit, the male friend helped the cyclists--who didn't seem to be hurt--up.  I did a U-turn (fortunately, no other cyclists were approaching from either direction) and went to see whether the cyclists needed any help.  Two declined, and thanked me for my offer.  But the other, upon seeing that his bike was wrecked (It was carbon fiber.), punched and kicked the fence on the side of the bridge, picked up his bike and flung it. I got out of his way.

The bridge's lane is just barely wide enough for a couple of pedestrians walking abreast and a cyclist riding alone or in single file.  Plus, parts of the paving have been torn away (It's supposed to be re-paved), leaving half the width of the lane unusable for a significant part of the path's length.  That, at a time when more people are walking and pedaling across the bridge than perhaps at any time in its history.

It Looks Like A Lane Now

It looks like a real bike lane now.


Last week, I mentioned the construction I saw on the Queens side of the Edward Koch/Queensborough/59th Street Bridge.  (At the rate it's going, the bridge'll have more names than God has in the Old Testament!)  Well, I don't know whether they've finished it.  But at least now the path is useful, and takes you to a practical destination.


More important, it doesn't force cyclists into this:

This is where the lane from the bridge used to end.  Just beyond the orange barrels, 27th Street dead-ends under the elevated tracks of the #7 and N lines of the New York subways.  Most of the traffic on 27th (which is one-way in the direction of the truck in the rear of the photo) merges onto the bridge ramp; a few vehicles turn right onto Queens Plaza North, where you see the black sedan.  Sometimes those streets are completely full of vehicles, and their drivers aren't known for patience.


So, when a cyclist coming off the bridge can turn left onto the lane, which intersects with 23rd, 22nd and 21st Streets. All of them continue underneath the tracks.  Or one can take 23rd in the other direction to go to Astoria.  That street passes through an industrial area and the traffic on it is usually light.   Twenty-Second is one-way in the opposite direction from 23rd, and 21st is a major artery that serves as part of the route for several bus lines.  


I would love it if the path were extended to Vernon Boulevard, which skirts the Queens bank of the East River.   That would offer cyclists relatively easy and safe access to PS 1, Socrates Sculpture Park and the Noguchi Museum, among other things. 


One can always hope.  For now, I'll suspend my cynicism and be grateful for something that's better than what we had.

You Can Cross That Bridge When You Come To It

This is not an April Fool's joke:  Today is the second.


Besides, you don't really believe that a nice, simple middle-aged woman (Is that a contradiction?) would play a joke on you, do you?  


I really did buy that fixie you saw in yesterday's post.  ;-)


Anyway...What I'm telling you today is true, although some of you familiar with the situation might think I'm extending April Fool's Day by another 24 hours.


If I go about a kilometer or so directly down the street on which I live, I come to an entrance for the Edward I. Koch Bridge. Those of you who don't live in New York and know what you know about this city from Simon and Garfunkel probably call it the 59th Street Bridge.  Officially, it has been known as the Queensborough Bridge.


As you can imagine, I cycle over it fairly often.  And, being a New Yorker, I can find reason to complain about it.  Actually, you don't need to be a native of this city to find ptoblems with the crossing.  The path on the north side of the bridge is divided between cyclists and pedestrians.  It isn't wide enough for either, and sometimes rollers, skateboarders and surfers use it too.  All right, I was kidding about the last one.  But you get the picture.


Still, it's not bad, as bicycle/pedestrian accesses on local bridges go.  It's been well-maintained and, of course, there are some interesting views.  Plus, it takes you about as close to the Roosevelt Island finiculaire as you can get without riding it.  

The main problem with it is getting on and off it.  The path ended where 27th Street effectively dead-ended in Queensborough Plaza.  And the traffic on that street is one-way, in the direction opposite from the one a cyclist would be riding upon exiting the bridge.  


Until recently, there was one other alternative for exiting the bridge:  turning left onto a path that wasn't really one.  In other words, it was a strip of dirt in a berm that was, as often as not, full of glass.  But it at least took cyclists to 23rd Street, where one could turn right and cycle toward my neighborhood and other points north. Or one could turn left and go underneath the bridge and train trestles to Silvercup studios and the factories and warehouses (some of which are now used for studios and other purposes) in Long Island City.


Well. the city Department of Transportation is paving that ad hoc path, effectively extending the bridge's bicycle/pedestrian path.  The cynic in me gapes in disbelief that the city (or any American municipality besides Portland) is providing something safe and practical for cyclists.  And--gasp--it's pretty convenient too (at least for me).  


Now, if they could only extend the exit/entrance ramp on the Manhattan side just a bit.  It ends on 60th Street and First Avenue.  That's fine if you're going uptown, as that's the way the traffic goes on First.  I sometimes take that route  when riding to the George Washington Bridge.  However, it's not so convenient if you're going downtown, as I do when I teach at the technical college on 34th Street.


I guess I should be thankful for what we get, and hopeful that we'll get more.  Actually, it's rather nice to think that way.