Attacked Because He Is A Cyclist?

 These days, when I ride into Manhattan, I am most likely to use the Williamsburg Bridge.  One reason is convenience:  It’s closest to the places on either side of the river from, to or through which I am likely to ride.  Another is habit:  The Brooklyn Bridge bike lane, which opened a couple of years ago, is better than I expected it to be.  But before it became available, the Williamsburg had widest lanes and easiest access of the East River crossings.

Time was, though, when I avoided the Williamsburg.  When I lived in Park Slope, Brooklyn, the Brooklyn was more convenient.  But the neighborhoods on either side of the Williamsburg were, at the time, rough.  I knew a few people who were attacked and their bicycles stolen.

As if such crimes weren’t intimidating enough, a new wave of attacks—like the one I’m about to mention—is targeting cyclists.

Early this morning, a 62-year-old man was riding through Chicago’s South Loop.  For no apparent reason, someone attacked him with a construction sign. Then the perp beat the man with his bicycle.

While the methods and weapons used vary, one thing that the aforementioned incident has in common with others I’ve heard about recently is that police and reporters have said there was “no apparent motive.” I can’t help but to think, however that the man in Chicago, and other cyclists, are being attacked because they are cyclists.

Let Us Know So We Can Do Nothing

Be a snitch.  But don't expect us to go after the perps.

That is the message Chicago cyclists are getting from their city.  

On one hand, on Wednesday morning Alderman Daniel La Spata of the Windy City's First Ward sent this Tweet:

My office has been investigating the best way to submit Bike Lane Parking Violations for enforcement to the City of Chicago. Here is the best way to submit violations for ticketing:

— Alderman Daniel La Spata (@AldermanLaSpata) June 15, 2022

He was  encouraging cyclists to take photos of drivers parked in designated bike lanes and send them to 311 so the city can pursue a citation.

That same afternoon, however, a Chicago Department of Transportation spokesperson said that while the agency encourages what La Spata advised, the City uses the information "to guide enforcement and identify hot spots to improve public safety."  Those complaints, however, are not sent to Administrative Hearings for ticketing," the CDoT spokesperson said.

Would Chicago, or any other city, tell its citizens to take videos of robberies or assaults in progress, forward them to the city, and say that it plans to do nothing with them?  How many people would want to be "the eyes and ears" of their communities?  

 

Going Nowhere, Unsafely

What's the easiest way to anger urban drivers?  Take a lane out of "their" street or roadway and turn it into a bike lane.

Here's something that will leave them more enraged (I can't blame them):  When we, cyclists, don't use the lane designated for us.

We eschew those pieces of "bicycle infrastructure" our cities and counties "provide" for us, not because we're ingrates.  Rather, we avoid them because they're unsafe or impractical.  As I've said in other posts, paint does not infrastructure make:  Simply painting lines on asphalt does nothing to improve the safety of motorists driving at 30MPH (a typical urban speed limit)  or cyclists pedaling at half that velocity.  And too many bike lanes simply go from nowhere to nowhere.

Both of those flaws, it seems, came together this winter, Chicago's Department of Transportation constructed a "protected" bike lane on the city's West Side, along Jackson Boulevard between Central Avenue and Austin Boulevard.  The lane is only ten blocks long (which, if those blocks are anything like those here in New York, means that the lane is only half a mile long).  The worst thing about it, for both motorists and cyclists, is that it took a lane in each direction from a busy if narrow thoroughfare that connects the northern part of Columbus Park with Oak Park, an adjacent suburb.

The Jackson Boulevard Bike Lane. Photo by Colin Boyle, Block Club Chicago

In doing so, the Chicago DOT made an often-congested route even more crowded.  One problem is that drivers often use Jackson to reach the Central Avenue onramp for the Eisenhower Expressway.  Drivers making a right turn on Central get backed up behind drivers going east on Jackson because they can't make the turn on a red light.

Things are even worse during rush hour, school dismissals and when the 126 bus makes one of its four stops along the route.  The result is "total chaos and confusion," according to Salone.  It might be a reason why "I have yet to see one bike there."  City and school buses may be picking up and discharging passengers in the lane, and having to cross an entrance to a freeway is, for me, a reason to avoid a lane or street. (That is one reason why, when cycling back from Point Lookout or the Rockaways, I detour off Cross Bay Boulevard a block or two after crossing the North Channel (a.k.a. Joseph Addabo Memorial) Bridge:  I want to avoid the Belt Parkway entrance and exit ramps.)

The result, according to resident Mildred Salone, is "total chaos and confusion."  That might be a reason why she has "yet to see one bike there."  An equally important reason was voiced by someone else, who called Jackson Boulevard a "bike lane to nowhere."  

That title was bestowed upon it by Oboi Reed, who founded Equicity, a mobility justice organization that seeks, among other things, to start a bicycling culture in the area.  "When the bike lanes drop out of nowhere, people are turned off," he explained.  "People have to feel ownership and excitement."  

He says that in addition to the lane's faulty planning and design, people were alienated because they see the bike lanes as vectors of gentrification.  The Jackson Boulevard neighborhood is full of longtime residents, some of whom live in multi-generational homes, and most of whom are black and working-class.  They cyclists they see are mainly younger and whiter than they are, and don't share their roots in the neighborhood.

So, it seems to me, Chicago's Jackson Boulevard bike lane encapsulates all of the faults of "bicycle infrastructure" in the U.S.:  It was poorly planned and designed, with little or no regard for whom it would serve or the neighborhood through which it was built.  The result is something that makes motorists and cyclists equally unhappy.  Unfortunately, unless planners and policy-makers pay more attention to cyclists as well as other people who might be affected, we will see more unsafe bike lanes to nowhere.

A Juneteenth Freedom Ride In Bronzeville

Lately, there's been much talk about things returning to "normal" or becoming a "new normal" as pandemic-induced restrictions are eased or lifted.

Some aspects of the "new normal" will be welcome.  One, I hope, will be a ride Jason Easterly and Mike Allan took last year and are repeating this year.

Jason Easterly. Photo by Ariel Uribe, from the Chicago Tribune

Easterly is, among other things, a spin class instructor.  Allan was one of his students.  Last spring, when gyms were ordered to close, Easterly took his classes online.  Allan continued his participation.

In the days after a Minneapolis police officer murdered George Floyd, in the words of Easterly, "we were living in a powder keg." People were "sitting in lockdown, not able to get out" as "our loved ones" were dying.

Allan suggested a bike ride--in person, through Bronzeville, the Chicago neighborhood where he and Easterly live.  They would invite a friends.  A 15-mile route was planned, as was the date:  19 June a.k.a Juneteenth.

They decided to call it the "Freedom Ride," in commemoration on the date in 1865 when Union General Gordon Granger arrived in Galveston to inform enslaved Americans that they were free.  At that time, Texas was the frontier:  There were really no major cities between St. Louis and San Francisco.  The Lone Star State was the last bastion of slavery, as it was the Confederate state farthest from Washington DC.

So the slaves of Texas, the last to be liberated, learned of their freedom some two months after the Civil War ended and two years after Lincoln declared the Emancipation Proclamation.

Apparently, a lot of people in Chicago (and other places) wanted to be liberated from lockdown.  About  200 showed up for that ride.

It will be reprised this Saturday, the 19th.  Riders will meet at noon Wintrust Arena, 200 East Cermak Road, and pedal to Bronzeville and then into downtown.  

Perhaps the “Juneteenth Freedom Ride” will become an annual event—and part of “the new normal.” 

Swept By A Tide Of Poor Design

Yesterday’s  story told the tragic end of an award-winning journalist—and cycling enthusiast—on a Florida road.

The story I’m going to relate today didn’t end as badly—the cyclist survived.  But it had this in common with Tim O’Brien’s mishap:  It had a cause in something neither that cyclist, O’Brien (or, for that matter anyone else) could have foreseen.  That cause, however stemmed at least in part from poor planning, design or policy.

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, O’Brien was struck by a car that ricocheted after it was struck by a pickup truck making a left turn on Route A1A:  a two-lane road (for most of its length) where drivers drive at highway speeds and make left turns onto side streets where, as often as not, there are no signals or signs.  Also, on A1A, the sidewalks serve as bike lanes and, too often, shoulders or pull-over lanes for cars.

The cyclist I’m going to mention today was swept off his bike by a tide—while pedaling along a bike lane that skirted the edge of the water.

This near-tragedy struck on the path between Lake Michigan and Chicago’s Lakeshore Drive.  Although Michigan, like the other Great Lakes, is filled with fresh water, it—like Superior, Huron, Erie and Ontario—is really a vast inland sea with its own tides. 

Those tides are affected by the same things that whip up the oceans:  the moon’s gravitational pull, geocentric forces—and the weather, the wind in particular.

I know these phenomena quite well:  I often cycle along the Verrazano Narrows, Long Island Sound, Upper New York Bay (where the Hudson River ends) Jamaica Bay and the misnamed East and Harlem Rivers.  All are inlets or bays of the Atlantic Ocean:  something people living by them learned the hard way during Superstorm Sandy!  I have been reminded of the waters’ provenance a few times when waves spilled onto the paths or streets I was riding.

Now, some might say that my and that Chicago cyclist’s experience were unfortunate accidents that were just part of life in the big city.  There was, however, a flaw in the Chicago path that I’ve noticed on some waterside bike lanes I’ve ridden: It sits several feet lower than the adjacent roadway.  Oh, and there’s no barrier between the lane and the water.

A bike lane sandwiched between a major roadway and a tidal waterway—built several feet lower than the roadway, with no barrier between the lane and tides? If I were just a little more paranoid, I’d think that it wasn’t just bad planning and design: I’d believe it was designed to do away with cyclists!