"Cars Are So 2005"

No one wants more cars in cities.  Cars are so 2005.

So said a spokesman from Milan, Italy, where private vehicles were recently banned for six hours.  

Officials from just about any major city could, and would, have said something similar.  Even the most adamant opponents of congestion pricing admit that shoehorning more motorized vehicles into Manhattan streets will not do any good.  If nothing else, they're tired of sitting in traffic jams if they're not cognizant of the health hazards from pollution.

Likewise, even some of the folks who hate cyclists will admit, if grudgingly, that one of the best ways to keep more cars from funneling into the bridges and tunnels that lead to Manhattan is to move people's feet from gas pedals to bicycle pedals--or the pavement.

But, they will point out, people will pedal or walk to work, school or wherever else they need to go if those places are within, say, a couple of miles.  Some people simply don't have the time for longer bike commutes: If they have to spend an hour or more in a car or on a bus or train, how long will it take them to pedal to the office or classroom? On the other hand, there are many people for whom bicycle commuting would be feasible, but are afraid of (or just don't want to deal with) motor traffic.

The solution for that latter group seems to be incentives to cycle.  I'm not talking only about tax credits (which would be nice) or other "perks" governments or employers might provide; I also mean things--what some might call "infrastructure"--to make cycling more convenient and safe for those who would consider riding to work, school or shop.

One criticism of the bicycle infrastructure, such as it is, in the United States is that it is concentrated in major urban areas and serves mainly the young and affluent within them.  As an example, ports and bikes for Citibike, New York City's share program, are abundant in Manhattan south of 125th Street as well as in the Brooklyn and Queens neighborhoods nearest to Manhattan.  But there are none in the Bronx or Staten Island, or in the outlying area of Queens and Brooklyn.

One reason for that is that planners don't seem to think bicycle infrastructure, however good its quality, would be of any benefit outside of large cities like New York, Boston and San Francisco.  If it takes an hour to drive to the nearest supermarket, according to their thinking, there is little hope of encouraging anyone to get out of their cars and onto bike.

That may well be true.  But there are other areas, such as those in and around college towns and other small- to medium-sized cities, where bicycle facilities might encourage people to ride.  One such area is a stretch of the Ruhr Valley in Germany, where a "bicycle autobahn" has been under construction.  It is more than half-finished; when it is complete, it will span 100 kilometers and connect three mid-sized cities (Duisberg, Hamm and Bochum) as well as four universities.

It's hard to believe that there aren't similar areas here in the United States.  An longtime Iowa cyclist has identified one such area in his backyard, so to speak.  Chuck Oestreich, in a recent editorial, said that Iowa City, home of the University of Iowa, could be connected to Quad-Cities, which is--you guessed it--100 kilometers away. 

Now, he doesn't envision anyone commuting between those cities.  Rather, he sees people taking weekend excursions or riding instead of driving to places in between.  Even those of us who have no business in such places would, he says, have the opportunity to see the small towns and countryside, and thus get "a true taste of the real Midwest."

Moreover, Oestreich points out, a "bicycle interstate" could take cars off some of the highways--which, at certain hours of the day, become elongated parking lots.

And we can look at those traffic jams and sigh, "That's so 2005!"

Don't Believe Everything You Read On An App

Some students are never, ever convinced that I--or any other instructor--is grading them fairly.  There are the ones who think we have it in for them because of their race , ethnicity, religion, socio-economic background (of course, they don't use that term) or opinions that differ from yours--no matter that their sources are minimal or non-existent, their logic flawed or their syntax more tangled than fishing line in an inept angler's hands.  Or they simply think we're too old, un-hip or simply stupid to understand the profound things they're saying.

Then there are the ones who simply can't understand how, after how hard they worked and how they "did everything" they were "supposed to do", they got the grade they got.  Some, of course, don't put such time and effort in what they hand in to me or their other instructors.  But others do, and I genuinely feel for them:  I know that it's frustrating to put forth your best effort and not get the result you want.

There was a time, a dozen or so years ago, when I'd return students' essays and the sighs and shuffle of papers would be broken by some someone whining, "But I used Spell Check--and Grammar Check."   I would explain, as patiently as I could, that not everything they see on a computer screen is to be trusted. (I guess that's the modern version of "Don't believe everything you read!") "All machines have the flaws of the people who make them," I'd pronounce.

It's been a while since a student (well, any student of mine, anyway) has used "The Spell Check Defense," if you will.  But some people are still more willing to trust an electronic device over good, old-fashioned common sense.

One such person was a 26-year-old Jersey City resident who was delivering food on his bicycle in Manhattan.  Following a route suggested by a phone app, he entered the Lincoln Tunnel and pedaled to the New Jersey side.

When he arrived, Port Authority of New York and New Jersey police intercepted him.  He explained how he ended up in the tunnel and showed them his phone, "which supported his claim," according to Port Authority spokesman Joseph Pentangelo.

Bicycles and other "velocipedes" (Yes, that term is used) are prohibited in the Lincoln, according to the regulations listed in the Port Authority's "Green Book".  As there was no significant disruption of traffic, the man received only a summons for trespass.

And, I'm sure, he won't believe everything he sees on a phone app.

No Idaho Stop In California--For Now, Anyway

Which is worse:

• a stupid, misguided, useless or pointless law that is passed by a legislative body

or

• a well-informed and well-conceived law that a legislative body votes against?

Yesterday's post concerned a mandate that may fit into the former category.  Today, unfortunately, I'm going to write about the latter.

As I've mentioned in an earlier post, way back in 1982, Idaho passed a law allowing cyclists to roll through an intersection at a red light if there is no cross-traffic.  Since then, no other US state has enacted similar legislation , though in 2011 a few Colorado municipalities adopted policies that allow cyclists to, in effect, treat "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs.  And the city of Paris, France has a statute allowing cyclists to do the same as long as they're making right turns, or going straight, through "T" junctions.

From the Portland Mercury

The so-called Idaho stop makes perfect sense because it allows cyclists to get out ahead of traffic and therefore be better seen by motorists, particularly those who are making right turns.  Even the policies of Paris and those Colorado communities are better than most others.

Recently, a bill that, if passed, would have given California cylists the same right that their peers in Idaho have enjoyed for more than three decades came up for a vote in the Golden State's Assembly.  After some intense lobbying (by, I think it's fair to assume, people who don't ride bikes), the bill was tabled.  Assembly member Jay Obernolte said the bill was being held up until the next legislative session so that "concerns" can be "worked out."

The one legitimate "concern" he mentioned came from groups representing the visually impaired, who say that people with vision problems could have difficulty hearing cyclists "whizzing by", as Sacrament Bee reporter Alexei Koseff put it.

That, in spite of researchers in the US and UK, working independently of each other and several years apart, coming to the conclusion that cyclists as well as motorists are safer when the "Idaho stop" is allowed.  Part of their research, of course, included a survey of Idaho's experience with its law.

Drones And Crits Don't Mix

When riding in the city, a cyclist has to be aware of--in addition to motor vehicles and their drivers--pedestrians.  All it takes is one darting across the street at mid-block, or someone ambling through an intersection while looking at an iPhone screen, to send a cyclist tumbling to the pavement.  

In fact, I have incurred two falls--one on Broadway in SoHo, the other in Coney Island--caused by pedestrians who barrelled across a street without looking in the direction of the approaching traffic (which included me).  In the SoHo incident, said pedestrian--who was shopping with a friend--at least stopped and apologized. In the other mishap, the boy who plowed into me--who appeared to be about 14 or 15 years old--simply kept on going.  

I wasn't hurt in either incident, but things could have been worse.  Even scarier, though, were two instances in which I didn't actually crash, but could easily have taken a hit and a tumble.  Both happened when I was riding down mountains and an animal crossed my path:  a deer in Pennsylvania; an Alpine Ibex just after I crossed the border from France into Switzerland.  

During my brief career as an amateur racer, I went down once and had a near-miss.  Both were the result of other riders who jackknifed in front of me.  In the crash, I wrecked an expensive front wheel but, fortunately, not the bike--or me.  In the near-miss, another rider incurred similar damage when he and a couple of other riders hit the pavement a bit further back in the pack from where I'd been riding.

Now it seems there's a new hazard that can take a racer out of the game, or leave a rider with  road rash or worse:



It almost sounds like one of those excuses I'd hear from a student who didn't show up for class the day a term paper was due.  (That's happening to me this week!)  "I got hit by a drone".  At least, that's now more plausible than "My drone ate it!"

Seriously, though:  We have to watch for low-flying or falling drones.  Imagine if one caused a pileup in, say, the Tour, Giro or Vuelta!

Bikes Will Eat Cars

Bikes will eat cars.

No, I am not using, uh, herbal remedies for non-medicinal purposes.  I haven't done that or used any other illicit substances in so long that I'm covered by the statute of limitations. (That is one thing to look forward to as you get older!)  In fact, the four words that opened this post aren't even mine.

They were uttered by Horace Dediu.  Who is he?, you ask.

I confess:  I didn't know who he is until I came across an article in, of all places, CNN Money.  There, he is described as a "prominent analyst of disruptive technologies."  That title alone makes him sound like he has an IQ that's even higher than my weight (in pounds, which is saying something!)

The way he sees it, bikes have all sorts of advantages over cars.  We are already familiar with some of them:  They're a lot easier to park and store, they cost less both to buy and maintain, and in many large cities, it's possible to get from point A to point B in less time one a bike than in a car, bus or, sometimes, even by rail.  

He also sees other advantages, which have only become apparent with the growth of bike-share programs.  One is, of course, the fact that bike share programs are relatively easy for cities to implement.  But another has to do with the sensors found in the bikes of some share programs.  At the moment, they're used to track the location of bikes so that they can be retrieved, especially in the newer programs that don't use ports or docks.  They also, of course, make it more difficult to steal the bikes.

Horace Dediu:  "Bikes will eat cars."

But the way Dediu sees it, that technology could develop into cameras that are placed in the bikes.  They, and other kinds of sensors, could record potholes and other real-time information that could be transmitted to city authorities.  They could even provide data on traffic and other street activity that could make Google Street View seem as antiquated as maps inked on parchment.

If you were to tell your non-cycling acquaintances what I've recounted, they'd object that bikes won't displace, much less "eat", cars for the same reasons they don't ride:  They're afraid of traffic, road conditions are bad and, oh, what do you do when it rains or snows?

Dediu has thought about those objections.  To address them, he describes the way infrastructure evolved around the automobile.  When the first motorized cars were created, there were far fewer paved roads, even in the most developed areas, and even the best roads were pretty rough.  Also, early cars were open-air.  It only took a generation or so for the landscape to be transformed by the infrastructure created for automobiles--which, by that time, were enclosed.

He sees a similar "evolution" for bicycles.  He thinks shells or other enclosures will become widespread, and that cities and other jurisdictions will develop bike lanes and other thoroughfares specifically for cyclists.

Finally, I must point out that when he says "bicycle", he isn't talking only about the kinds we pedal. He believes that electric bikes will also be part of the change he envisions.  Evidence for that, he explains, can be seen not only in the "explosive" growth in sales of e-bikes, but also in the fact that a few cities are introducing e-bikes to their share programs.  Some people who would be hesitant about trading their cars for pedaled bicycles could be enticed to ride e-bikes.  Also, the advantage in speed the bicycle offers in cities like New York could spread to areas further from urban centers.

One other obstacle--which, according to Dediu, must and will be overcome--to bikes displacing cars is the lack of availability of share bikes.  New York and San Francisco have the largest bike share programs in the US, at 12,000 and 7,000 bikes, respectively.  On the other hand, Beijing has 650,000 share bikes, all of which have hit that city's streets within the past nine months.

Horace Dediu says "Bikes will eat cars."  Whatever wastes they emit after their repast can't be nearly as toxic as what vehicles with internal combustion engines belch into the air we breathe!

A Day In Court---For....?

Which is worse:

• laws, policies and regulations that govern cyclists but are conceived and enacted by people who don't ride bikes, or
• enforcement of said laws, policies and regulations by people who don't cycle?

A few months ago, I was caught in a "perfect storm", if you will, between the two.

It was around noon on a warm, late-summer day.  The sun shone brightly in a clear sky.  That meant something unusual for that time of the year in this part of the world:  very little humidity, which is probably the reason why I felt the light wind wasn't slowing me down, even though I was pedaling into it.  

At that moment, I was about two thirds of the way from my apartment to Greenwich, Connecticut.  So, unless that wind changed direction (it wouldn't), I could look forward to it giving me a "boost" on my way home.  Most important, though--at least at that moment--I was feeling really, really good:  I was astride Arielle, my Mercian Audax, and each pedal stroke seemed to invigorate me.  

Somewhere along  Halstead Avenue, one of the major thoroughfares in the Westchester County town of Harrison, I noticed a police officer perched on a motorcycle.  Alfred Hitchcock once said that if you are going to show a gun on a mantel, it has to be used to shoot somebody at some point during the movie.  I actually remember thinking about that--why, I didn't know--when I saw that officer.  

A couple of minutes later, I came to the town's major intersection: where Halstead crosses Harrison Avenue, next to the railroad station.  I saw trucks and construction crews on the other side of Harrison; as I approached the intersection, I could hear more trucks rumbling behind me.  

(Here is a Google image of the intersection, without the construction crews.)

Focusing on the construction work and trucks ahead of me, and seeing that no traffic was crossing Halstead from either side of Harrison Avenue, I increased my speed through the intersection so I could stay ahead of the trucks I'd heard rumbling behind me. I figured that I would be safer if they saw me ahead of them:  Truck drivers, in my experience, tend to be more careful than most drivers and give the right of way as long as they see you.  Also, I thought that if I crossed the intersection ahead of those trucks and whatever other traffic might be approaching behind me, I could more safely navigate the construction zone.

You can probably guess what happened next:  The cop on the motorcycle zoomed up alongside me.  At first, I didn't think anything of it.  Then he yelled, "You, on the bike.  Pull over!"  

I did. In front of a funeral home.  

"Let me see your license."

"What's the problem, officer?"

"You went through that red light."

"I did?"

He then lectured me about how New York State law says that bicycles are, in effect, vehicles and are governed in the same way.  That meant I had to stop for the red light at an intersection.  "You know, if there had been cross traffic, it could have ended really badly."

"But, officer, there wasn't any."

"You're still supposed to obey traffic signals."

I tried to explain to him that doing so could've landed me underneath one of those trucks.  He was hearing none of it.  Instead, he ran my license through his computer.  He ordered me to step back as he read the screen and printed out the summons.

"Have you ever dealt with the police before?"

"No, sir."   

Then, sotto voce, he told me to mail in the summons with a not guilty plea and the pre-trial date would be set.

Well, that day was the other day.  I went to the Harrison court house and stood on a line with about three dozen other people who had traffic summonses of one kind or another.  A man at a desk called each of us by name.  He called mine, and said that he was going to do me a "favor" and, as a result, I wouldn't have points on my license or a record of any kind.  

I then realized he was the officer who pulled me over and wrote the summons.  "Go to the line on your right, Miss Valinotti," he ordered. "Have a good day."

While waiting on line, a few of us got to talking.  It seems that Harrison has a reputation for issuing lots of traffic tickets.  One person remarked that it's the town's second-biggest source of revenue, after property taxes.  He might not have been kidding.

(Maybe I'm not the first one to think the town should be re-named "Harassment" or "Harrass-son".)

Anyway...I should mention that the day I was pulled over was the last Saturday in August.  Although the officer who stopped me--or, for that matter, any other officer--would probably deny that there was a "quota" system in place, it's hard not to believe that I was stopped for any other reason.  

It was probably the easiest way for the town of Harrison, New York to get 175 dollars from someone who doesn't live there--and who might not ever pass through again.  

Good Bicycle Infrastructure: Good For Seniors

On more than one occasion, I've railed against drivers who park in bike lanes--or even use them to pass when they think "the coast is clear".

I used to get annoyed with skateboarders, skaters and runners who use the lanes.  Lately, though, I have had more sympathy for them, in part because of someone I talked to when I stopped for a red light a few weeks ago.

He was pushing his wheelchair in the lane I was pedaling.  I suppose the sympathy I feel for someone in his situation is normal:  After all, who grows up wanting to spend his or her life that way?

Anyway, he was apologized for using the lane.  "Don't worry," I intoned.  "Just be safe."

"Why do you think I do this?"

"What do you mean?"

He explained that he wheels himself along bike lanes because, in some places, the sidewalks are "impossible" to use.  "They're broken, they have debris all over them."  But,he said, "at least here"--meaning in New York--"we have sidewalks".  In other places--"like Florida", he said--"there aren't any sidewalks".  As often as not, it means he has to wait for people to drive him around because "it's just too dangerous to wheel a chair along those roads."

I was reminded of my encounter with that man when I came across an article from Connect Savannah.  In the Georgia city's "New, Arts & Entertainment Weekly," John Bennett writes, "People who ride bikes on Lincoln Street are used to seeing other wheeled conveyances in the bike lane."  He is "not talking about the cars that are regularly parked there."  Rather, he observes, that "people who use wheelchairs, scooters, walkers and other mobility aids" rely on the bike lanes to "permit them to safely reach important destinations."  

From Connect Savannah

Bennett said that a tweet from Anders Swanson, a Winnipeg designer and the chairman of the Canada Bikes board of directors, included a video of a man in a motorized wheelchair to remind people that "It's far more than just cycling."  His message to politicians is that unless they "never plan to grow old", bike infrastructure "should be their #1 priority."

As Bennett points out, having a good bicycle infrastructure is not just about separating cyclists from traffic. The lanes--when designed well--calm traffic, "improving safety and the comfort level for people who use mobility aids".  The result, according to Swanson, is that people have choices in their mode of transportation.  As Bennett so eloquently puts it, lanes "allow people like me to ride a bike to work instead of driving."  And, he says, it "makes it possible for a person in a wheelchair to shop for groceries at Kroger's."  

In places like Savannah, "when drivers argue against bike lanes, wider sidewalks and other traffic-calming measures," he explains,"what they are truly afraid of is losing their ability to speed," he explains.  However, "the consequences of prioritizing convenience of motorists over safety are dire," he reminds us, "especially for seniors".  

The reasons?   A 30-year-old chance has a three percent chance of being killed if hit by a car travelling 20 miles per hour.  At age 70, the mortality rate is 23 percent.  And, as speeds increase, so does the death rate.  It's not unusual, Bennett says, for motorists to drive at 45 MPH on Savannah streets.  A 30 year-old has a 50/50 chance of surviving an encounter with a vehicle travelling at that speed.  For 70-year-olds, the mortality rates increase to 83 percent.

So, in brief, creating good bicycle infrastructure (and I emphasize "good" here) is synonymous with making cities safer for people who use walkers, wheelchairs or motorized scooters--or for senior citizens generally.  In addition to enticing more people like me to bike (rather than, say, drive) to work, it also gives senior citizens--and others who can't, or don't want to, drive-- the opportunity to live more active and satisfying lives.