Even In A Cyclist's Paradise, Not All Is Heavenly

The Netherlands is often seen as a cyclists' paradise.  Indeed, the country's ratio of bicycles to people is roughly the same as, ahem, of that of guns to people in the United States. (That is to say, humans are outnumbered.) And comprehensive networks of bike lanes that you can actually use to get from home to school or work, or to go shopping or simply on a "fun" ride, crisscross many Dutch cities and towns.  Moreover, bicycle "infrastructure" includes facilities like parking garages that drivers take for granted.

However, even in such a velocipedic utopia, not all places are "bike friendly," according to Mark Wagenbuur, the "Bicycle Dutch" blog author.  Recently, he was asked to speak in Wageningen, a small city with a university renowned for its work in agricultural technology and engineering.  As he had never before been in the city, he spent some time pedaling in it before offering his perspective on its cycling conditions.

There, he reports, he found "a mishmash of various types of infrastructure that have developed over time." Not only did he find paths with different kinds of surfaces that weren't connected, he also found bike lanes where they "didn't need to be," like the one alongside a residential street with a 30 kph (19 mph) speed limit.  To be fair, he points out, the street was once a major road, so the bike lane may have made more sense.  But, as with any kind of infrastructure, it needs to be updated. 

Also, he found "car parking lots galore" in a city that is "warmly welcoming car drivers" and noticed that, like other cities that aren't particularly welcoming to cyclists, it's also difficult to reach and navigate via mass transit. (Though there is a bus terminal, the nearest rail station is 8 km--about 5 miles--from the center of the city.) Furthermore, the pedestrian route from the bus station to the center of town includes crossing a busy Provincial Road with no crosswalk or traffic lights. From there, pedestrians traverse a dark underpass and a car parking lot.

Americans (and people in some other countries) might dismiss Wagenbuur as "spoiled." After all, he is comparing conditions in Wageningen to those of his home city and others in the Netherlands.  But he has made a valid point:  Wageningen can, and should do better, even if its cycling conditions are better than those of most locales in the United States.

The New Normal?

 

When I first heard of a town called “Normal” in Illinois, I wondered whether it was, well, normal. That might’ve been before I asked what “normal” means.

I’ve never been to the town, so I couldn’t tell you whether it fits an O.E.D. or D.S.M. definition of “normal.” Actually, the D.S.M. doesn’t so much define “normal” as it dictates what isn’t. In one edition, I wasn’t; in the next—current—edition, I am.

But I digress. The town was named, apparently, for a “normal” school located there. “Normal schools”—which are still so-named in Mexico and other countries—are now known as “teacher training colleges “ in the US.

So why were they called “normal” schools? Well, they were designed mainly to train elementary school teachers and their curricula concentrated on enforcing societal norms of behavior, for the teachers-in-training (almost all of whom were young women) as well as their prospective pupils. 

I don’t know what norms, if any, are being reinforced in today’s Normal.  It has, however, been recognized for practices that will, I hope, become normal. The League of American Bicyclists has acknowledged the town for its efforts to be a more bicycle-friendly city.

Could it be that one day, when a community makes efforts to be bicycle-friendly, it’s becoming Normal—or normal?  I hope so.

How "Bicycle Friendly" Is It?

Yesterday, in "Windshield Bias," I described  the way bike issues are covered in the media and how it's affected public perceptions and policy.  I focused on how the stories are covered in Boston because the question of media coverage came to my attention via a Boston Streetsblog stories.

One thing I touched upon is the perception vs. reality of "bicycle friendliness."  I mentioned that it's a relative term. Sure, there are bike lanes and "safety" laws in some jurisdictions.  But, on the whole, the US is a motor-centric country and most policy and planning is done by people who don't cycle, walk or even take mass transportation.

Photo by Samantha Carey, for Boston magazine.

Recently, Boston was chosen as  America's eighth- most "bike friendly" city by Clever, a real-estate data company. Of course, such a study by a real estate data company is suspect.  Still, some will give it credibility.  But not everyone, according to a survey done by Boston.com.

Respondents echoed many of the observations and complaints I've made in this blog, including bike lanes that appear and end abruptly, snow that is plowed and debris dumped into them, and hostile drivers. On the other hand, other respondents echoed what you hear from bike-phobic folks everywhere:  "They're taking away our parking spaces!"  

What the survey confirms, for me, is something that one respondent expressed--and I've said, as recently as yesterday, on this blog:  "bicycle-friendly" is a relative term, at least in the United States of America.

No Lump Of Coal In Their De-Feet Socks

Senator Joe Manchin may be doing more than anyone in the United States to perpetuate an obsolete industry:  coal mining and energy.

That's not surprising given that he represents West Virginia, the second-leading coal-producing state in the US.  

What's also not surprising is that in 2008, when the League of American Bicyclists issued its first reports of states' bicycle-friendliness, the Mountain State ranked dead last.  In 2019, when LAB released its last pre-pandemic report, West Virginia had moved up to 34th.

Now it's 28th, right in the middle of the pack.  The LAB rates each state in five areas:  Infrastructure & Funding, Education & Encouragement, Traffic Laws & Practices, Policies & Programs and Education & Planning.  In the first and last categories, WV got a B- and C+, respectively, and a C in each of the other categories.  One area in which the state seriously lags behind others is in the percentage of commuters who bike to work:  It's about half the national average and, at 47th, near the bottom of the list.

Massachusetts was named the most bike-friendly state.  My home state, New York, ranks 13th and, being New York, it ranks very well in most areas but very poorly in others.  In Infrastructure & Funding and Education & Encouragement, the Empire State got an A-.  In Policies & Programs and Evaluation & Planning, it earned a B+. But on Traffic Laws & Practices, it rates an F+. (As an educator, I have to ask:  What's the difference between a D-, which I've given once or twice as a grade, and an F+, which I don't think I've ever given.)  I am not surprised, really:  If the rest of the state is anything like the NYC Metro area, I can say that the state is doing the things policy makers think they're supposed to do to promote cycling:  starting education programs, building lanes and such.  But the laws and, more important, law enforcement, have not kept pace:  We are one of 11 states without a safe-passing law and we don't have the "Idaho Stop," or any version of it. 

Also, I have to say that for all that's been spent on bike lanes, the folks who conceive, plan, design and build them seem to have no better an idea than their counterparts of 50 years ago had about what makes for a good bike lane:  It has to be useful, free of hazards and planned so that it's actually safer than riding in traffic.  None that I've ridden are structured in a way that a cyclist can cross an intersection without having to worry about being struck by a turning motorist.

On the whole, the LAB's rankings don't surprise me much:  After the Bay State, Oregon and Washington rank second and third, respectively. All of the states ranked from 30th to 50th, with the exception of New Hampshire (34th) are south of the Potomac or west of the Mississippi.  

Which state ranks last?  Wyoming, the nation's leading coal producer. 

What If He'd Stayed?

Yesterday, I wrote about an effort to make Austin, Texas more bike- and pedestrian-friendly. I haven't been there, but if it's anything like the parts of the Lone Star State I've seen, the complaints of its cyclists and pedestrians don't surprise me:  Even Houston, its biggest city (and the fourth-largest in the US) can seem like an expanse of auto-centric suburban sprawl, especially if you're accustomed to a city like mine (New York), Boston, San Francisco or most major European burgs, bourgs or bergs.

Then again, I have to admit I was a little bit surprised that, from what I was reading, bike lanes and sidewalks are so poorly conceived, designed or maintained--or nonexistent outside central parts of the city.  After all, during the past three decades, many young, educated people--the ones who, during the same period, were most likely to become recreational or commuting cyclists--moved to the Lone Star Capital.  And it has a major university, which usually is enough to ensure a significant number of cyclists.

Today I was reminded of another reason why one might expect Austin to be a better place for cyclists.  Now, I know that almost anything that happened more than two years ago seems as distant as the Mesopotamian civilization but, believe it or not, three decades ago isn't so long in, as Doctor King said, the long arc of history.  

Just as there was indeed a time before COVID-19, there was also a time when Lance Armstrong was a kind of "golden boy."  He had just won the World Championship and was seen as an heir apparent to Greg LeMond and the generation of American riders who put their country on the sport's map for the first time in decades.

Well, back then, Lance lived in Austin. Professional cyclists are like other professional athletes in that they aren't "working" only when involved in a race, game or match.  Having been a racer for very brief time in my life, I know that in order to be competitive, you have to pedal for a few hours every day.  It's really as much of a commitment as going to the office, factory, school or wherever you make your living or forge your identity.  In addition, most cyclists, as well as other athletes, spend considerable amounts of time in other kinds of conditioning, such as running or weight-lifting.

Photo by Jeff Wilson for Texas Monthly

But one would think that with all of the cycling Lance--and, most likely, others--were doing, the city would have been more conscious of their needs.  You see, not only was he seen as a "rising star;" he had yet to be tainted by accusations of drug use.  In fact, he may not have been using any banned substances (at least, not in detectable quantities) in those days, before his cancer diagnosis. If you look at pre-illness photos of him and compare them to images of him after he returned to the sport, it's not difficult to believe as much.

Anyway, I couldn't help but to wonder whether Lance, had he retained his status, could have made a difference in hometown's cycle and pedestrian infrastructure.  Maybe he could have.  Then again, maybe he couldn't have:  After all, aside from people who bought Trek bicycles in the US Postal Service Team colors, I'm not sure he influenced much else. 

Still, it makes me feel old to think there was a time before COVID-19--and when Lance was revered.  

What Does He Think Of His "Bicycle Friendly" City?

This is a question I've asked, sometimes rhetorically, on and off this blog:  What, exactly, does it mean to be a bicycle-friendly city.

In the immortal words of one Dr. Tom Hammett of Chattanooga, Tennessee, his city's boast of "Bicycle Friendly" status is "mere bull droppings."  In a letter he wrote to his local newspaper, he writes of the hazards that still exist for cyclists, including those too often imposed, wittingly or unwittingly, by law enforcement officials.  One of them, he says, nearly killed him.

You might disagree with his politics, but he does make a valid point:  that in most cities, even the so-called bicycle-friendly ones, safe facilities for cyclists are "limited and do not serve the entire city," as Dr. Hammett complains.  "In general, our transportation grid is lousy," he points out.  Which brings me to another point: You can't have a bicycle-friendly city unless the whole transportation grid--including that for motor vehicles, not to mention public transportation--is well-designed.  Few cities, at least here in the US, have those things. Simply having a car-free commercial strip downtown doesn't cut it.

Cyclists at the Chickamauga Battlefield, Chattanooga, TN. From Outdoor Chattanooga.

What's really interesting is that Dr. Hammett isn't some hipster who moved into the city because he wanted to walk to his favorite bar and pedal to work.  He is a retired physician who says he "loves" Chattanooga--where, apparently, he spent his professional, if not his entire, life.  And he recognizes that his, and other people's (whether or not they're cyclists) quality of life in that city is intertwined with making it truly "bicycle friendly."

Could The Insurance Capital Help Cycling Bloom In The Rosebud City?

Bicycling is good for business.

Cities large and small are discovering how this is true, and not just for bike shop owners.  Obviously, we are good for coffee shops, bakeries and such.  But we--cyclists--use most of the same products and services as everybody else.  Thus, we will patronize the same sorts of businesses.

But we are also good for business, especially in urban downtown areas and on Main Street-type shopping strips in smaller towns, in the same way that pedestrians are.  Stores in such environs--whether they sell books or craft supplies or serve babkas or craft beer--are more likely to find customers among those who walk or pedal in front of them than from drivers who pass by because they can't find a parking spot.

That, I believe, is a reason why more cities here in the US are trying to make themselves "bike friendly"--or, at least, are doing the things they believe, rightly or wrongly, will make them so.  Chambers of Commerce or Business Improvement Districts will install bike racks (good) and nudge their cities into painting bicycle lanes on the streets (sometimes not so good).  They perceive that making their shopping areas more attractive and convenient for cyclists will do more to help business than squeezing more cars into already-crowded streets could.

Apparently, some folks in Hartford, Connecticut had the same idea.

Now, when most people think of Hartford, the insurance industry comes to mind.  It still is known as "The Insurance Capital of the World", with good reason.  Those with a sense of history might recall Connecticut's state capital was also a major industrial center.  In 1850, a native named Samuel Colt invented a precision manufacturing process that enabled the mass production of revolvers--which, of course, bore his name--with interchangeable parts.  His method would be adopted by a couple of guys named Richard Gatling and John Browning who made their own firearms, and the Weed Sewing Machine company, which dominated the market at the time.

Weed would also produce the first bicycles manufactured in the United States.  Albert Pope, another Hartford native, saw British high-wheeled velocipedes at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Exposition and bought the patent rights to produce them in the US.  Since he had no manufacturing facility, he contracted Weed, who would produce everything but the tires.  Soon, production of bicycles--Columbias-- overshadowed that of sewing machines, and Hartford became one of the leading centers of bicycle-making in the US.

Lest you think that the city's energies have been devoted entirely to commerce and industry, some very creative individuals in the arts have called Hartford home.  In fact, a couple of books you may have read--A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur's Court and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn were written in a house that is today a museum dedicated to their author. (I was there once, years ago, and thought it was interesting.)  And one of America's most innovative poets, Wallace Stevens, was an executive with the Hartford Accident and Indemnity Company!

Anyway, it seems that creative thinking lives on in Hartford. For years, the city's Business Improvement District has run a "safety ambassador" program.  The "ambassadors" patrol downtown streets, acting as security escorts, providing free help to stranded motorists and acting as additional sets of eyes and ears for the police.  In May, the BID added bicycle maintenance and repair to the work done by the "ambassadors" in order to encourage bicycle commuting and assuaging some of the fears associated with it, according Jordan Polon, the BID's executive director.

Eddie Zayas, a Hartford "safety ambassador",

Ambassadors give their phone numbers to people who ask for them.  Maureen Hart was one of those people. Just a few days after getting that number, she was riding home from a concert when she got a flat.  She called that number and became one of 42 cyclists who have received roadside assistance since the program started. 

"It's such a cool service," she said.  "I know people who live in Portland and that's a really bicycle-friendly city.  They don't have anything like this.  This is amazing."

Well, you can't have bicycle-friendly cities without bicycles.  And Hartford was making them long before most people ever heard of Portland.  Now the capital of the Nutmeg State looks ready to teach The City of Roses how to make it even easier to ride in their city.

(Here's another fun fact about Hartford:  It's also home to the oldest continuously-published daily newspaper in the US.  The Hartford Courant has been in print since 1764, making it 87 years older than the New York Times--and 12 years older than the United States itself!)

With Bike-Friendly Cities Like These, Who Needs Enemies?

You know you're an adult when you make the same mistakes as your parents made. 

Sometimes it seems that policy-makers define "progress" in a similar way.  Your city is becoming as big, important and hip as the "big boys" when it emulates their policy and legislative blunders.

At least, it seems that way whenever a city wants to tout itself as "bicycle friendly".  Hardly a day goes by without my learning that some municipality or another tries to show that its affinity for bicycles and cyclists.  The other day Houston was making its declaration of love.  So was Durham, North Carolina.

The enlightened leaders of both metropoli seem to think an alliance with cyclists seems  to involve the same things.  One is "encouraging ridership", whatever that means.  Another is building more bike lanes.

Photo by Marlo Stimpson

The latter always seems to be accepted as the ultimate sign that someone's fair city really and truly wants to make the world--or, at least, its world--safe for cycling.  Surely, they believe, riding in a designated bike lane is better than riding in traffic.  Even if that lane is poorly maintained. Even if there's nothing to stop cars and trucks from parking in it. Even if it leads into a turn more dangerous than anything a cyclist would have to navigate from the main roadway.  Even if it ends, without warning, in the middle of a block.

Or even if that lane is a "contraflow" lane:  a one-way street turned into a roadway shared with bicycle traffic running in the opposite direction from the motor vehicle traffic.

Welcome, Durham, to the Pantheon of Bicycle-Friendly Cities in the United States.  With friends like you, we don't need enemies!

Bicycle Report Cards, State-By-State

It's that time of year.

Yesterday, rough winds did shake the darling buds of May. Today the air is calmer but for some--especially my students, not to mention me--it is not a temperate day, lovely as it is.

You see, the semester is nearing its end. Some time after Memorial Day, my students will get their report cards in the same sense that we "dial" telephone numbers and "ship" items.   That is to say, no school or university (at least, none that I know of) uses cards anymore:  Students get their grades online.

In a similar fashion, all fifty states of the US have just received "report cards."  They weren't, however, graded in English or Math or History.  Their grades didn't come from me or any other professor or teacher, and their cards weren't issued by any educational insititution.

Instead, they came from the League of American Bicyclists. The "grades"--or, more precisely, scores--each state received were in categories that included Legislation & Enforcement, Policies & Programs, Infrastructure & Funding, Education & Encouragement and Evaluation & Planning.

This is not CNN's electoral map.  Yes, the states deemed most "bike friendly" are in blue.  But the next-most "bike friendly" are red.  Strangely, the states labelled least bike-friendly are in green!

So, which state finished at "the top of the class"?  That would be the Evergreen State--Washington--which also finished first last year.  So, while the efforts of advocates and planners there are to be commended, the ranking is bittersweet, as the state still scored only 66 out of 100 in both years for "bicycle friendliness".

Its neighbor to the south, Oregon, came in sixth and California eighth. Some of the states you'd expect to be high in the rankings--such as Massachusetts (fourth) and Colorado (seventh) are also there.  Not surprisingly, most of the states near the top of the table are in the Far West or Northeastern parts of the US. 

Also not surprisingly, the most of the lowest-ranking states are in the South, with Alabama bringing up the rear (with a score of 12.4, which was actually worse than their 2014 tally of 17.4) and Kentucky immediately in front of them.

My home state of New York ranked 29th in both years, though its score improved slightly from 33.9 to 35.4.

If my students had scores like those, I'd have appointments with my department chair and a dean--and they wouldn't be for lunch!