Sending Us Across The Bridge

Until recently, almost no transportation planning in the US included bicycles.  In a way, it's understandable:  For decades, few adults rode bikes for any reason, let alone to commute.  But in many parts of the country, people of all ages, from officers in organizations to students and retail workers, are cycling to their workplaces or classrooms.  Some cities and states have tried, often misguidedly, to "accommodate" cyclists.  Some of their efforts have been, arguably, worse than ignoring us altogether.

One such effort has been a proposal to allow cyclists to cross the Potomac River between Maryland and Virginia on the recently-opened Governor Harry W. Nice/Senator Thomas "Mac" Middleton Bridge. 

Even at my age-which is still, ahem, midlife because, well, I say it is!-- I probably could cross the bridge faster than I could say its name. But that, I suspect, is not the reason why folks like Jed Weeks are using words like "ludicrous," "unconscionable" and "malpractice" in reference to the proposition. 

Weeks is the interim executive director and policy director of Bikemore.  His organization focuses on the Baltimore area,  about 90 miles north of the bridge.  Washington, DC is about midway between them. and From the nation's capital and Chesapeake Bay, where the Potomac empties--a distance of about 100 miles--there is no other Potomac crossing.

The new bridge with a name even longer than its span replaced an old bridge called (relatively) simply the Governor Harry Nice Memorial Bridge. David Brickley, who owns the Dahlgren Railroad Heritage trail, led an unsuccessful fight to preserve that span for pedestrians and cyclists.  He argued that it would have been "good for tourism" with its views and its potential for linking bike lanes and pedestrian paths on both sides of the river, allowing for longer trips.

Aerial view of the new Governor Harry W. Nice Memorial/Senator Thomas "Mac" Middleton Bridge.  Image from the Maryland Transportation Authority

When construction began on the new bridge, Larry Hogan was Maryland's governor.  He and his transportation planners did not make any provisions for bike or pedestrian lanes.  So how does the Maryland Transportation Authority want to "accommodate" cyclists?

Get ready for this: The agency's newest proposal calls for allowing cyclists to use the rightmost traffic lane in either direction.  Upon entering the bridge, cyclists would push a button that would trigger flashing lights, alerting motorists to the presence of a cyclist.  The lights would continue to blink their warning for 10 to 15 minutes to allow the cyclist to cross--while sharing that 12-foot-wide traffic lane with cars, SUVs, trucks and other vehicles crossing the span.

No, I didn't make that up. (If only I could!)  Oh, but it gets even better or worse, depending on whether you're seeing this as a story or transportation issue. The bridge connects the Maryland and Virginia sections of US Highway 301, which is a spur of US 1. So, said motor vehicles are traveling at 50 MPH.  At least, that's the speed limit.

If someone was plotting a way to kill cyclists, that person could hardly have done better.  That's not my emotions talking.  "I wonder if (Maryland Transportation Secretary Paul) Weidfeld would feel this is a good, safe option for bicyclists to go from Virginia to Maryland and Maryland to Virginia," mused Brickley.  "I wonder whether he would feel safe bicycling over that bridge."

Weeks felt even though the issue is "sort of out of our jurisdiction" it was comment because the plan is "such a dangerous idea." He summed up his verdict thusly:  "Anyone affiliated with a decision like that has no business designing bike or pedestrian infrastructure and should be banned from the practice."

Actually, from what I've seen and experienced, I could apply Weeks' brilliant summation to the vast majority of transportation planners who design bicycle infrastructure in the US.  Sometimes I think they see us as a "problem," much as grandstanding politicians in places like Florida, Montana and Georgia portray transgender people, and their  way to deal with us is to eliminate us or, if you like, send us across the bridge.

A Barrier To What--And Whom?

If you have studied any post-Renaissance history or theology (and you thought I wasted my youth only  on the things the young waste their youth on!), you have heard the question, "How many angels can dance on the head (or tip) of a pin?"  The question was posed, rhetorically by 17th Century Protestants to mock Scholastics such as Thomas Aquinas and Duns Scotus, and of angelology, a hot topic among Catholic theologians of the time. 

Oh, by the way, one answer to that question is:  an infinite number, as angels don't occupy physical space.

(So when a former partner of mine called me an "angel"--before she knew me better, of course!--was she really referring to how skinny I was at the time?)

Now, if you are not a transportation or utility cyclist, this question may seem as esoteric as the one about celestial beings and fasteners:  How many cyclists does it take to lift a cargo bike over a route barrier? I think it's the structure of the question makes it seem, at least rhetorically, as detached from any real-world concerns.  Then again, it could sound like a joke like "How many surrealists does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

(The answer to that one is "Fish!"  What else could it be?)

The question about cargo bikes and route barriers is important, though, if bicycles and other non-motorized vehicles are going to become an integral part of any city's transportation system.  Those little fences, in zig-zag patterns at the entrance to some bike lanes and pedestrian-bike overpasses, are supposed to keep motorbikes out, but in reality, they don't. Moreover, nothing is done to enforce stated bans:  On some lanes, I see four or five motorized bicycles and scooters for every traditional bicycle.  Those barriers do, however, inhibit or prevent access for wheelchair users and the aforementioned cargo bikes.

There are many barriers to cycling in London, some are physical especially when riding a cargo bike. Luckily I had my trusted group of riders with me to help me out on this occasion in Roding Valley @willnorman @ternbicycles @RedbridgeLive @London_Cycling pic.twitter.com/rcxTqQmcRu

— Mariam Sayed (@MariamCycles) March 22, 2023

Possibly the worst examples I've seen are the barriers on each end of the pedestrian-bike overpasses over the Clearview Expressway (a.k.a. I-295) in the eastern part of my home borough of Queens. Not only do they inhibit access for wheelchairs and cargo bikes, they also endanger cyclists or pedestrians entering exiting them because, once you go through the barriers, there is nothing separating you from the expressway's service road, where traffic enters (on the east side) or exits (on the west) at Expressway speeds (50MPH+).  I occasionally use those crossovers when cycling to or from Fort Totten or other areas along the North Shore.

If you look closely at the right side of this entrance to a Clearview Expressway overpass, you can see the zig-zag barrier.

For a time, bicycles were actually banned as a result of an eleven-year-old boy who was struck and killed by a car when he tried to exit the overpass.  In a way, that doesn't surprise me:  Most planners and politicians aren't everyday cyclists or even pedestrians, so they can be depended on to simply ban something when it could be made safer.  In the case of the Clearview overpasses--and, I suspect, the one in the Tweet I've included--accessing and using a lane should be made safer for all non-motorized (and wheelchair) traffic, and a ban against anything with a motor (besides a wheelchair) should be enforced. 

You'll Never Believe Where She Got This Ticket

A decade ago, a driver upbraided me for not riding in a bike lane.  None was present along the avenue where we encountered each other.  I pointed out that out to her. Still, she insisted, I should have been riding in the lane (where nothing but a line of paint separated cyclists from motorists) on a nearby avenue which parallels the one I was riding.

I politely told her I was going someplace on the avenue where we crossed paths. (Pun intended.) "Would you drive along a street that doesn't take you where you want to go?"

She then launched into a lecture about how riding on the path is safer than riding on the street, which revealed that she wasn't a cyclist.  Her claim that she had to go somewhere at that moment revealed that she'd lost the argument.

The reason why that exchange stays with me is that it revealed one of the many misconceptions that guide, not only everyday motorists, but too many planners and policy-makers.

Even in that supposed cycling Nirvana of Portland, Oregon.

On Monday, a police officer pulled over and cited a woman for not riding her bike in a lane.  To be fair, the law she, a daily bike commuter, violated was not specific to the city but, rather, an Oregon state law. ORS 814.420 states that "a person commits the offense of failure to use a bicycle lane or path if the person operates a bicycle on any portion of a roadway that is not a bicycle lane or bicycle path when a bicycle lane or bicycle path is adjacent to or near the roadway."

Photo by Jonathan Maus, Bike Portland

When folks like me don't use the bicycle lanes--including the one that runs right in front of the building where I live--we are accused of being "reckless," "entitled" or worse.  Truth is, sometimes it's more dangerous to ride in the bicycle than in a traffic lane.  Too often, drivers park or pass, or pick up or discharge passengers, in bike lanes.  I've even seen cops munching on their donuts or sandwiches in the cruise cars they parked in a bike lane.

If I am headed northbound on the Crescent Street lane, I am riding against the direction of vehicular traffic. (Crescent is a one-way southbound street.)  If a car, van or truck pulls into the bike lane, for whatever reason, I have two choices. One is to detour onto the sidewalk.  That option, however, is negated when the vehicle in question is from a contractor or utility company and construction or repair work on a building or power line obstructs the sidewalk.  Such a situation leaves one other option:  to veer into the edge of a lane where the traffic is going in the opposite direction.

Also, I've ridden along too many lanes that make it more dangerous for a cyclist to cross an intersection than crossing from a traffic lane would.  To make matters worse, some folks like to end their evening revelries by smashing their booze bottles, or dumping other debris, onto the lane.  And some lanes are hazardous simply because they're poorly constructed or maintained.

As I have never been in Portland, I don't know about the bike lane the ticketed woman was "supposed" to ride.  But, because she has commuted by bicycle on that same route for eight years, I don't doubt that she has encountered some or all of the hazards I have described, and possibly others.  If only the police in Portland--that supposed Mecca for cyclists--and Oregon lawmakers understood what that woman, or I, encounter regularly, they might finally understand that simply building a bike lane is not enough to ensure the safety of cyclists--or motorists.

A Model For Bike Policy?

 For years, a rumor or urban legend--what's the difference between them?--said that bicycles were illegal in the People's Republic of Korea (PRK), a.k.a. North Korea.  Given the country's reputation as one of the most totalarian states, and the fact that almost no one in the West could be sure of what was happening in the country, the story seemed plausible.

Turns out, bicycles weren't officially banned.  But they were frowned upon as a primitive means of transport for a country whose leader saw it as a modern socialist utopia--until 1992.  That year,  cycling gained official acceptance, though the country's leader, Kim Jong-Il, officially banned it women because he thought the sight of a woman striking a "seductive" pose on the saddle would corrupt public morals.

Now, I must say that it still surprises me that anyone  has ever found  me "seductive," "sexy" or even cute in any position, whether as the woman in, ahem, late middle age that I am now or the dude I once was.  And, to my knowledge, the only ways in which I've ever "corrupted" anyone was to have them read essays, poems or books that provoke "subversive" thinking--or to have those people write what they were really thinking or feeling at that moment.

Anyway, for someone who thought he was turning his country into a socialist paradise--which, one presumes, is for the benefit of common people and not based on religious orthodoxy--Kim Jong-Il's attitudes, at least when it came to women and bicycles, weren't much different from those of the leaders of Saudi Arabia or other extreme theocracies.  His son, King Jong-Un, from what I understand, hasn't been enforcing that ban, in part because in a country where few people have cars and mass transportation isn't widely available, especially in rural areas, much of what's grown in that country--by women--would never get to market if women couldn't port it on bikes.

Kim Jong-Un has been pictured on amusement park rides and horses, but not on bicycles.  But, ironically, his non-enforcement of the ban on women riding bikes isn't the only thing that makes his country's capital city, Pyongyang, 'bicycle friendly."  Bicycles are not just socially acceptable; they dominate the streets as they did in Chinese cities a generation ago, for the same reason:  There are few cars.

Interestingly, while some cite bicycles outnumbering people in Dutch and Danish cities as reasons why cycling and cyclists are respected to a greater degree than they are in the US, bicycles aren't fetishized, the fact that they are a, if not the, major means of transportation in Pyongang and other PRK cities is the reason why they are status symbols, in more or less the same way as cars in other places.  Japanese-made bicycles are the most-after (Hmm...Perhaps I should have saved my Miyatas just in case I ever take a trip there!), followed by locally-made bikes that are rumored to be made by prisoners.  Chinese-made bikes are at the bottom of the heap, just as they were in the US about a generation ago.

Could it be that UK Transport Secretary Grant Shapps was looking to the PRK rather than the Netherlands, Denmark or France in proposing a new bike-related policy?

No, he's not looking to get more cars off the road or women on bikes, or to build more bike lanes.  Rather, he wants to adopt one of the PRK's more controversial policies:  registration plates, like those on automobiles, prominently displayed on the front of every bike.  

Oh, but he's looking to go even further than King Jon pere ou fils:  He wants to require insurance and impose speed limits for bicycles.  Moreover, he wants to impose a system of penalty points similar to the ones for motorists who violate the speed limit or other regulations. 

Now, to be fair, he's not the first British public official to propose such regulations.  But I think more citizens, whether they favor or oppose such rules, are paying attention because of the increasing numbers of people who are cycling for fun or to get to work, school or the store.

Whatever happens, it is ironic that an official of a Western country that is often seen as "liberal" would take one of the world's most illiberal states as its model for policies related to a form of transportation and recreation that can do more than almost anything else to liberate women--and men and children.

Why They Left Out Bicycles

On Sunday, the US Senate passed the Inflation Reduction Act. Perhaps not surprisingly, the vote split along party lines, with the 50 Democrats voting for it and 50 Republicans rejecting it.  Vice President Kamala Harris, a Democrat, broke the tie.

As I understand it, the Inflation Reduction Act is a shrink-wrapped, rebranded version of what Biden and other Democrats actually wanted. The fact that some things that were included in the Build Back Better Act, which passed in the House of Representatives, were omitted from the IRA is no more an oversight than calling it the "Inflation Reduction Act" was not an attempt to make the energy- and environmentally-related aspects of it more palatable to the Senate's two most right-leaning Democrats, Kirsten Sinema and Joe Manchin.

One key omission were tax breaks and other subsidies for bicycles and other two-wheeled vehicles that are powered wholly or in part by human energy. The original Build Back Better proposal included a $900 tax credit for the purchase of an electric bicycle and a pre-tax benefit to help commuters with the costs of bicycling to work.  

That tax credit was available to cyclists before 2017, when Republicans repealed it as part of the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act.  The Build Back Better Act would have essentially restored it but I think Chuck Schumer, the Democratic leader of the Senate, who worked with Manchin on the IRA, realized that he had to take out some of its "greener" parts to get Manchin and Sinema to agree to it.

I say that it's unfortunate, not only because I am a cyclist.  As Harvard Kennedy Center visiting  fellow David Zipper told Alex Dougherty of POLITICO, "We need not just to shift people from gasoline to electric cars. We need people to shift from cars, period." But, as he points out, there's nothing in IRA that "makes that process easier or faster or more likely to happen."

Any piece of legislation that ostensibly has anything to do with the environment or energy but omits bicycles is a bit like a bouillabaisse without fish or a caponata without eggplant. 

What Do We Know? We Just Ride Bikes!

I am going to rant.  You have been forewarned.

Nothing angers me more than someone in a position of authority who schedules a meeting or gives you a few minutes to "state your case" when they've already made up their mind. Someone who is deemed an "experts," has a fancy title and is given unilateral decision-making power seems to be particularly prone to such behavior.  

What bothers me about such a person is not that they make the wrong decisions or simply ones that I disagree with.  Rather, it's their pretense of considering what  you have to say, when, deep down, they have no interest in learning anything more than they already know and are convinced that they can't learn it from you--a mere prole or rube, in their eyes.

I've seen many such people in the academic world. Because they have advanced degrees to go with their fancy titles, they know more or better than you, or so they think.  They're even worse after they've taken a workshop or seminar on something like race or gender identity or discrimination:  They are absolutely convinced that they already know what they need to know and would never consider hearing from somene who has actually experienced what those workshops and seminars supposedly taught them.

There is, of course, a parallel in the world of urban and transportation planning, especially when it comes to bicycling.  The planners may not have ridden bikes since they were kids--or, possibly worse, they ride on a path in a park while on vacation and think of themselves as "bike riders."  They plan and develop bike lanes that go from nowhere to nowhere and have turns, stops and signals that actually endanger cyclists more than riding in a traffic lane ever would.  And they hold hearings in which they invite representatives of bike advocacy groups to "get input" about the "bicycle infrastructure" they want to build.

I thought about my experiences in the academic world and bicycle and transportation advocacy when I came across an article about the Reno's pilot program that seeks to make "infrastructure improvements"  for bicycles, scooters and other "micromobility solutions." In a typically clueless statement, the Nevada city's assistant director of public works, Kerri Koski, said "We'll take and collect the data that we get, we'll analyze that and take a look at what makes the most sense."

Truckee Meadows Bicycle Alliance President Ky Plakson said that while area cyclists may welcome whatever the city ultimately does, they were not apprised of the study or the pilot program.  "We're told at the last minute that something's happened; we're brought into the conversation after the decision has been made," he said.  That sounds unfortunately familiar.  And he echoed something I said before, and after, any number of "bicycle infrastructure" projects were initiated--including the bike lane that lines the street where I live:  "If you're going to build a bike path, talk to people who ride bikes."

Do they teach that in graduate programs for urban planning?

Bikeways To The Future: I Hope Not!

Last week, I wrote about the current bicycle shortage and compared it to a similar scarcity during the 1970s Bike Boom.  Then, I waited three months for my Schwinn Continental, not a custom-built frame.  Today I want to talk about another parallel between then and now.

There probably was never a time, save for the 1890s (or now), when everyday people were more aware of cycling and cyclists as they were from about 1969 to 1974.  Back then, governments at every level from counties to the nation were floating plans to build "bikeways" (as bike lanes were called then) to, perhaps, an even greater degree than we see today.  

Back then, regular cyclists included Dr. Paul Dudley White, President Eisenhower's personal physician and a founder of the American Heart Association; Stewart Udall, the Secretary of the Interior under Presidents Kennedy and Johnson and one of the founders of modern environmental movements; and John Volpe, Secretary of Transportation.  Also among their number was Carl Bernstein, who helped to expose the Watergate scandal and, much to his chagrin, one of the Watergate "burglars" he exposed!

As transportation writer Carlton Reid notes, the 1970s Bike Boom offers hope, as well as cautionary tales, for today's "Boom".  One hopeful sign is that while, in some areas, cyclists are stereotyped as overprivileged milennials or hipsters--the bohoisie or bourgemians, if you will:  the very antithesis of a rebellion against consumer capitalism--back in the day, adult riders  were labelled as "bike freaks" who were hippies, commies or worse.  

More to the point, though, too many decisions about bicycle policy were being made by people who weren't cyclists and, worse, didn't have the collective memory, if you will, of cycling that Europeans and people in other parts of the world could  draw upon.  So there was an emphasis on "bikeways" that separated cyclists completely, not only from motorized traffic, but the community in general:  They were good for leisurely weekend rides, but not for transportation.  That is one reason why the massive bike sales of the early 1970s (which dwarfed mountain bike sales during their late 1980s-eary 1990s boom) did not translate into a culture in which bicycles were an integral part.  Once the "boom" ended, many people hung up their bikes for good.

That ignorance of cycling extended to law enforcement officials, as it too often does now.  I have been stopped by cops who insisted I broke the law when I didn't and that I should engage in practices that actually endanger cyclists, such as riding all the way to the right and following traffic signals when crossing busy intersections.

Also, as Reid points out, while bikes from that era are called "vintage" and sell for high prices on eBay, the fact is that most bikes sold during that time were of low quality.  In other words, when most people bought Schwinns or Raleighs (if they didn't buy department-store bikes), they weren't buying Internationals or Paramounts, they were shelling out their money for Records or Varsities--or for any number of low-end models from makers like Atala or any number of smaller companies that haven't been heard from since.  Most people never learned to even fix a flat, let alone take care of more complex problems, so when things went wrong, they never got fixed.  Moreover, most of the bikes sold really weren't designed for the way people were riding them.  That is why, for example, lower-end ten-speeds came with brake extension (a.k.a. "suicide") levers:  Most casual cyclists are better off with upright or flat handlebars than on drop bars.

So, Reid cautions that we must learn that--as Richard Ballantine argued in his 1972 book--"bikeways" alone are not  alone the answer.  For one thing, it's much better to take lanes and streets from vehicular traffic and to raise awareness of cyclists, pedestrians and motorists alike of cyclists' right to ride.  So are bikes that are suited to the riders' needs and inclinations.  Otherwise, a lot of the bikes purchased today will be hanging in rafters--or buried in landfills--by 2030.

Capital Fine

Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

I could say something like that on those rare occasions when I agree with the Automobile Association of America or the Washington Times.  Well, today I hit the "daily double," if you will.

The District of Columbia's Department of Public Works says that, later this month, it will begin to levy $150 fines on drivers who stop or park in bicycle lanes.  Perhaps not surprisingly, both the WT and AAA hate the idea.  

One point on which I agree with them is that the move probably won't help to improve cyclists' safety or the flow of traffic.  I am not familiar with that city's bike routes, but if they're anything like some that I've seen here in New York, they're worse than no lanes at all for cyclists.  And, of course, they frustrate drivers.

Perhaps more to the point, though, is this:  New York's ban against stopping or parking in bike lanes is rarely, if ever, enforced.  Will the Capital City do better in making drivers better at respecting the rights and safety of cyclists as well as pedestrians?

If it doesn't, the result will most likely be more injuries and fatalities--and frustrated drivers, which could lead to more deaths and injuries.  

Even more important, though, is the design of both lanes and streets.  Unless that is improved, no other policy or piece of bicycle "infrastructure" will do anything to help both motorists and cyclists navigate often-chaotic conditions. 

I’m Not Crazy About Their Steaks—Or Bicycle Infrastructure

I have never been to Omaha, and I have met only two people who hail from O.N.E. (Omaha, Nebraska) in my life.  So I won’t make any generalizations about it.  I will say, however, that the seem to have made the same mistakes in bicycle infrastructure planning and construction countless other places—including my hometown of New York.

While city officials are congratulating themselves for stringing together a “network “ of bike lanes that will allow cyclists to get around in the city, local cycling advocates are making the same justified criticisms one hears all over this nation.

From what I can see, local officials think that all you have to do to make a bike lane is to paint lines on the side of the road, and all you have to do to “connect” them is to install a few signs.

I’d protest by boycotting Omaha Steaks, but It wouldn’t change their thinking.  Besides, I’ve never ordered Omaha Steaks before and very rarely eat steak at all.  I’m not a vegetarian, but—I know that this will seem like heresy to some—I’m not so crazy about steak.  Or most bicycle infrastructure I’ve seen.  And I probably won’t like Omaha’s infrastructure, either.