A New Hazard In The COVID-19 Bike Boom

The good and bad news about the pandemic....

That does seem like an odd phrase, doesn't it?  Well, in the two years-plus since COVID-19 hijacked the world,  there was at least one positive development, at least related to cycling:  more of us are doing it.  I have at least a little bit of hope every time someone mounts a saddle and pedals.  I have a little more when someone rides again.  Of course, that has made bikes, parts and accessories difficult to find--and far more expensive than they were.  

The bad news?  More riders has meant more riders being injured and killed.  The pandemic has derailed "Vision Zero" initiatives here in New York and in other cities:  The goal of no more pedestrian and cyclist fatalities, toward which cities were trending, however slowly, seems even further out of reach than it was when those initiatives started.

Most of the attention has been on cyclists who were struck by motorists.  They, of course, accounted for the vast majority of casualties.  But an increasing number of us have fallen victim to an even-more disturbing trend.

Oscar Gaytan is one of them.  The award-winning nurse from the Duarte area of Los Angeles attended a Dodger game Monday night.  He was, apparently, riding to an LA Metro station Monday night when someone pulled him off his bike and pushed him to the ground. He was found early Tuesday morning, dead, from head injuries.

Police have declared they are conducting a homicide investigation and are seeking a man between 30 and 40 years old who fled on foot.  Duarte community members have organized a GoFundMe page to help his family pay for funeral services.

I have been hearing and reading about an increasing number of such incidents--or ones in which a cyclist is knocked down while riding.  The assaults are, of course, serious.  But, in addition to injuring riders, they also have the potential to put us in even greater danger, especially if we're attacked on a street or a streetside bike lane, from traffic.  I became all-too-aware of that danger a year and a half ago, when a driver flung her door into my side and sent me sprawling into the street, where another driver stopped inches from running over me.

So, while it's important to look at ways to eliminate fatal encounters between cyclists and motorists, it's also important to treat seemingly-random assaults as what they are.  It's hard not to think that Oscar Gaytan's death was a hate crime because of his ethnicity.  But I think that even if he were whiter than I am, he could've been the victim of another kind of hate: the kind some feel against us for taking "their" streets and parking spaces when bike lanes or built, or who simply for what they believe we, as cyclists, represent.  

Assaulted For "Not Riding In The Lane"

A decade ago, a driver nearly hit me when she made a careless turn. (I think she was distracted.)  I yelled a few things they don't teach immigrants in English classes and flashed a one-fingered peace sign. She rolled down her window and lectured me on how I "should be riding on the bike lane."  Never mind that the lane was on another street and wouldn't have taken me where I was going.

To this day, too many drivers and  seem beholden to the same notion.  I was once stopped by a cop when I turned out of a bike lane onto a side street.  Said cop claimed that I went through a light--which I wasn't--and that I "should stay in the lane."  Never mind that I turned off the lane to go where I needed to go and that, in any event, even if I had gone through the light when there was no cross-traffic--or ahead of a driver who would turn right when the light turned green--I (and the driver) would be safer than if I'd strictly followed the signal.  When I pointed that out, the cop said, "I ride a bicycle, too," in a tone of reminded me of people who tell me about a gay brother, sister or friend before doing or saying something to hurt me.

If bicyclists could ride only in bike lanes, we couldn't go anywhere--unless, of course, the lane goes right to the doors of our homes, schools, workplaces or favorite stores, cafes, museums or anyplace else we go.

Erin Riediger understands as much.  The Manitoba-based architect and host of Plain Bicycle Podcast veered from the bike lane into the traffic lane so she could turn onto a side street.  A man walked in front of her bike, struck her and said, "The bike lane is over there."

Fortunately, she wasn't hurt, at least not physically.  She posted a series of Tweets about the incident and most of the responses were sympathetic.  However, as almost invariably happens on Twitter, trolls clambered from under their rocks.  One upbraided her for "wasting her time" with those posts (If she was "wasting her time," wha does that say about the troll?), she should have "called the cops"--which she did.  Others posted stuff that nobody should be subjected to.  

Still other twits (what I call trolls on Twitter) lectured her about how she should have handled the incident or stayed in the bike lane.  Then there were the ones who used the occasion to rant about how cyclists should have licenses, insurance, etc.--which many, if not most, of us have--never mind that those things have nothing to do with the real issue at hand:  someone--a woman--was assaulted--by a man--when she rode her bike.

A woman was assaulted by a man as she rode her bicycle. She was within the law; he wasn't.  Those are the facts of this case; they have nothing to do with licenses, insurance or anything else that's bothering trolls with too much time on their hands.

A Perfect Storm Of Hate

I am a transgender woman and a cyclist.  That means I belong to two groups of people for whom it means that becoming more visible means having a target pinned on your back.

That's how it seems, anyway.  On some jobs, when I've done anything that draws positive attention--whether it's an excellent review, volunteering for a committee or, sometimes, even outside activities, like my writing--some co-workers, including those of higher rank than mine, become Captain Ahabs to my Moby Dick.  Until that happens, they congratulate themselves for "tolerating" me.  But when I accomplish something through my creativity and hard work, they seem to think that someone like me (or unlike them) isn't supposed to do such things.  

Likewise, as cycling for transportation as well as recreation becomes more mainstream, it stokes whatever hatreds and resentments some folks have toward us--or, at least, whatever notions, however unfounded, they have about us. We are seen as taking something--"their" streets or, perhaps, some notion of what it means to live a meaningful and productive life.  We are also accused of "not paying taxes" when, in fact, as I pointed out to one driver,  we pay more taxes for things we don't use, such as gasoline and highways.  

An unfortunate corollary to the things I've described can be seen in the aftermath of recent protests against the ways police, in too many places, treat Black*, Hispanic and Native American people.  It seems that, like trans and non-binary folks and cyclists, racial and ethnic minorities--especially Blacks and, in some parts of the country, Native Americans--have similarly been targeted for harassment and violence. Unfortunately, it's no surprise when you realize that the Ku Klux Klan became a force in the wake of Reconstruction, and lynchings and other kinds of violence against Black people surged in the years just after World War I, when large numbers of Black soldiers returned home, and during and after the Civil Rights protests of the 1950s and 1960s.

One parallel between what I've experienced, if less intensely, as a cyclist and trans woman and what Blacks too often endure is that we and they are too often targeted for doing or accomplishing things, or being in a place we're "not supposed to." And, being a member of one of the groups I've mentioned can compound the harassment you might experience as a member of one of the other groups.  As an example, one hot day early in my gender-affirmation process (I was on hormones for about two years and had begun living and working as female), a couple of cops pulled me over on some made-up charge while I was riding home. Their interrogation was punctuated by comments like, "I like your bike" and "You have nice legs." 

Elliot Reed also experienced an unfortunate confluence of bigotry while he was out for his morning ride two weeks ago.  The 50-year-old Texan is not only a cyclist in a car-centric, red-meat state; he is also--you guessed it--Black.  

When he stopped at an intersection, 25-year-old Collin Joseph Fries (great name for someone in a red-meat state, isn't it?)  drove up along side him.  "He was just looking at me at the stop sign," Reed recalls.  "He said, 'You need to get out of this neighborhood because you're making a lot of people nervous."  

Then Fries upped the ante:  "You don't live here, and if I catch you, I'm gonna do something to you."

Reed says he tried to get away and  get neighbors to confirm that he indeed lives in the neighborhood.  Then he pulled out his cell phone to record the incident.  At that point, he recalls, Fries got out of his car and used the N-word.  Things went downhill, very quickly, from there. 

Several witnesses have confirmed everything I've described so far, and what I'm about to relate.  Fries chased Reed, caught him and punched him so hard and so often that he lost consciousness. Those same witnesses reported that Fries continued to punch him even after he lost consciousness.

The attack left Reed with cuts requiring numerous stitches on his face, a broken tooth, fractured cheek bone and a burst blood vessel in his eye.

From Black Enterprise

Now, you might expect that, with all of those witnesses giving essentially the same account, Fries would be facing some serious charges.  For the moment, though, he's only been charged with a misdemeanor for aggravated assault.  (Is that a Harris County thing?  If something is "assault" and it's "aggravated," how can it be called a "misdemeanor?")  The District Attorney's office, however, says the investigation is "ongoing" and that it's awaiting medical records of the injuries and other evidence from the investigating officers.

At the very least, I think, Fries should be charged with something more serious related to Reed's injuries--and a hate crime.  For that matter, anyone who is attacked because of his or her identity--yes, I include motorists who did what Fries did or pedestrians who push people off their bicycles because their victims are cyclists--should be so charged, and sentenced.

*  I am using the term "Black" because I want to include immigrants and descendants from the Caribbean and Africa, as well those who were born here. They, too often, experience the same sort of hostility and violence as African Americans.

It Ain't "Breaking Away"

If you've seen Breaking Away, you probably remember this scene:



Of course, some things that are funny in a movie aren't so in real life.  Certainly, Bryan Blair isn't laughing.

On the evening 22 February, he was riding his bicycle in Scottsdale, Arizona.  A man entered the roadway and stuck a long metal object into Blair's front spokes, bringing him and his bike to a dead stop.

Unlike our the protagonist of BA, Blair suffered wounds to more than his pride.  He didn't get up and ride the next day.  In fact, he never rode again:  After three weeks in a hospital, he died from his injuries.

The man who ended his ride, and his journey, fled the scene in a car.  The police, who had no idea of whether the attack was random or targeted, enlisted  the public's help.

Daniel James Hinoto

Through surveillance videos, eyewitness accounts and other tips, Scottsdale police investigators tracked down the man they believe to be responsible:  49-year-old Daniel James Hinton.  The other day, they arrested him.

He's been charged with second-degree murder. As we all know, life doesn't always imitate the movies.