Bicycle Freeways Are Nothing New

A few years ago, a bicycle freeway opened in Beijing.  Similar elevated bike lanes have been built, or have been proposed or planned, for other cities in Europe and Asia.

Turns out, bicycle highways and freeways aren't a new idea.  Nor is one of the motivations for them.  And they weren't exclusive to bike-friendly countries like the Netherlands and Denmark. 

In fact, a bike highway once linked a sleepy town with the city that, some would argue, is the birthplace of car culture. (Is "car culture" an oxymoron?)

All right...At the time the lane was built, that city--Los Angeles--hadn't become synonymous with "freeway."  And the town the lane linked to it--Pasadena--hadn't even begun to host the Rose Bowl.

In fact, automobiles were still a novelty item and the Model T was more than two decades in the future. For that matter, asphalt wasn't in use as a paving material.  

In that environment, a fellow named Horace Dobbins (who would become Pasadena's mayor) saw the need to get to downtown L.A. quickly.  Interestingly, getting to and from various destinations in China's capital was a design feature of the bike freeway built in that city a few years ago.

Dobbins envisioned an elevated bicycle highway stretching nine miles (about 14 kilometers) between his home town and the bustling metropolis.  His proposal was embraced and the first section of the bike highway--complete with a tollboth!--opened in 1900. A mile long, stood twenty feet (seven meters) in the air, had wooden railings on its sides and linked Pasadena's Green Hotel with the base of Raymond Hill, near the city's Glenarm Street.

The view north on the Dobbins Veloway

That year is often seen as a "tipping point," not only because it was the turn of the century.  Many then-current and developing events, ideas and inventions would shape the rest of the century and this one.  One of those inventions was, of course, the automobile.

And cars are, not surprisingly, why the Dobbins Veloway, as it was called, was never completed. Within a few years, the lane--the two miles of it that had been built--was torn down.  Ironically, the land rights that had been secured to construct it were used to build the Arroyo Seco/Pasadena Freeway, commonly recognized as the oldest freeway in the United States.

 

No Room To Maneuver

 In several of this blog’s posts, I have shown how poorly-designed, -built and -maintained bike lanes subject cyclists to more danger than they’d face on a street without a bike lane.

Yesterday, Joe Linton wrote about such a lane on Streetsblog LA.  Actually, he focused his attention on one segment of it: a stretch of DeSoto Avenue near Pierce College.

There, DeSoto is 80 feet (24.4 meters) wide, with seven lanes devoted to motor traffic.  It’s rimmed by a bike lane that, for most of its length is four or five feet (1.2 to 1.5 meters) wide, in keeping with current standards.  But at the intersection with El Rancho Road, in the community of Woodland Hills, it tapers to three feet (less than a meter), including the gutter.

In other bike lanes—including the four- and five foot sections of DeSoto—the gutter is included in the path’s width, not because cyclists are expected to ride in it, but to allow room for passing or other maneuvers, particularly when the lane runs next to a line of parked cars.  A three-foot width effectively eliminates any room to steer out of danger or to pass.

But, as Linton recounts, even the wider parts of the path aren’t adequate or safe for cyclists on DeSoto, which seems to fit the definition of a “stroad” and practically guarantees that motorists will exceed the speed limit—and, I imagine, use the bike lane for passing.

What Michael Carries In His Back-Pak

In one of my earliest posts, I recalled the messenger bag I carried before messenger bags became fashion accessories for hipsters.  I used it as I sluiced through the streets of Manhattan (and, occasionally, beyond) on my bike to deliver things legal and otherwise.  In that bag, I carried everything from prints (from a Soho gallery to Judy Collins. Yes, that Judy Collins!) to papers (for contracts to, and possibly on) as well as, believe it or not, pizza.  It also bore the weight of secrets I was trying to keep and issues I was avoiding by working a job where I never had contact with anyone for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

Some messengers still use bags like the one I had, except that they're made from different materials than the canvas that formed my workday luggage.  Since then, I've seen bicycle delivery folks use everything from "pizza racks" on the front, to panniers on the rear, of their bikes.  Some also use baskets of one kind and another.

Lately, I've seen another conveyance that looks the kind of insulated rectangular bags that are sometimes attached to "pizza racks,"  with backpack straps attached.  I imagine that they are handy for making deliveries, but I don't imagine that I'd want to use one to  carry loads for any significant amount of time:  The boxy shape doesn't look like it would be very comfortable on my back.

They are used, however, for a good reason:  It allows bicycle (and, increasingly, e-bike and motorized-bike) riders to make more deliveries in one trip than other kinds of bags or baskets would.  That would be especially important, I think, if those who receive the deliveries haven't had much, or anything, to eat in a couple of days--or if you wouldn't find them by knocking on a door or ringing a bell.

Michael Pak uses such a backbox. (Is that a good portmanteau of "backpack" and "box"?) So do some of his fellow delivery people in Los Angeles' Koreatown.  But they're not delivering kimchi to young software developers or hipsters.  Rather, the grateful recipients of their deliveries live on the neighborhood's streets.

One Monday in August, Pak put out an Instagram post asking for volunteers to help him deliver lunch kits on Friday.  "I picked up groceries on Thursday and packed them in my studio apartment while watching a movie," he recalls.  "Within an hour, I'd packed 80 lunches and called it a night."  He went to bed that night with no idea of who, if anyone, would show up the next day.

To his surprise, about 15 people came out to help him distribute the meals.  He realized, though, that his meal distribution could not be a one-time effort. "I realized that for this to work and grow, I had to be consistent and not be afraid to ask for help," he says.

Now, with the help of his friend Jacob Halpern and local volunteers, "Bicycle Meals" is making deliveries in Koreatown, to those without homes, on Mondays and Fridays.  The meals they deliver include a sandwich, fruit, water, snacks, hand sanitizer and a mask.  "The long term goal is to feed our neighbors every day," Pak declares.

To make his deliveries, he rides a BMX bike "gifted from a friend."  The "backbox," is, however, key.  "It can store up to 15 lunch kits at once," he explains.  "It's one of those Postmates delivery bags I found on Amazon."  

I carried a lot in my old messenger bag.  But I don't think I delivered anything as important as what Michael Pak delivers in his Backbox.

(Hmm.. Should we call it a Michaelpak?)

Photos by Wray Sinclair.

Saul Lopez Probably Never Saw It Coming

When a cyclist ends up under a motor vehicle, do you assume--if only for a moment--that it was some careless driver who was texting, drunk or simply not paying attention?

I admit: I do.  Perhaps it's because I've heard and  read too many of those stories.  

Do you also assume that a single motor vehicle, and driver, was involved?  Again, I admit that I do.  Reason:  See above.

Now, when you hear that two motor vehicles collide, do you picture both of them stopped as a result of the impact?  If you answered "yes", welcome to a club that includes me.  

Also, if you are like me, you probably don't expect a cyclist to be run down by one of those two vehicles that collided. In fact, I'd never heard of such a case--until today.

The crash site in Pacoima.

The other day, in the Pacoima neighborhood of Los Angeles' San Fernando Valley, a 2016 Dodge Ram pickup truck was headed south on Glenoaks Boulevard.  It collided with a 2006 Chevrolet pickup truck running eastward on Vaughn Street. 

The impact sent both trucks careening southward to an intersection where the Dodge struck a 15-year-old boy who was riding his bike westbound, to school, in the south crosswalk at around 7 am.  He was pinned under the truck and after police arrived, Saul Lopez was declared dead at the scene.

Saul Lopez, from the GoFundMe page for his funeral costs.

The good news--if there could be said to be any--is that both drivers stopped at the scene and cooperated with police.  Neither was arrested.  It's not clear which of them had the right of way.

A GoFundMe page created to cover the costs of his funeral has already raised nearly $28,000: about $13,000 more than the goal.  If only it weren't necessary!

Bike Shares-- And Social Class?

Yesterday, I wrote about the bike-share program that begins today in Los Angeles.  I was happy to learn that such a program is commencing in one of the first cities people associate with the automobile.  And I found it interesting, to say the least, that city officials hope that the bike-share program will help to bolster ridership in the city's Metro system, which has been on the decline.

If that goal is realized, it will buck trends seen in other cities that have bike-share programs.  In some places, like Washington DC, those who commute on share bikes are using them in lieu of subways and buses, not automobiles.  

Although I have not seen such data for my hometown, New York, I would suspect something similar is happening.  After all, the commuter who is most likely to ride a Citibike--or to be a bike commuter--lives somewhere in Manhattan below 125th Street, or in Astoria (where I live), Long Island City, Greenpoint, Williamsburg or other Brooklyn or Queens neighborhoods just across the East River from the United Nations.

Before they started riding bikes to work, those commuters were probably taking the subways, which bisect their neighborhoods. If they work in downtown or Midtown Manhattan, they would have been riding the subway for only a few stops:  fifteen or twenty minutes, no more than half an hour.

In contrast, someone who drives to work--or takes one of the express buses or trains--probably lives further away, in southern and eastern Queens neighborhoods like Bayside or Cambria Heights or southern Brooklyn areas such as Mill Basin or Dyker Heights.  Or they live outside city limits altogether.  Typically, those who drive to work or are taking the Long Island Rail Road (Yes, it's spelled as two words!) or Metro North have commutes of an hour or more each way.  Needless to say, few of them are going to start riding bicycles to work, even if Citibike installs ports in front of their houses!

Now, some of those commuters--particularly those who live on the North Shore of Nassau County or in certain parts of Westchester and Bergen counties--are rich. But most are middle- or working- class people who live in those areas because they simply could never afford a house, or even an apartment, big enough for their families in Manhattan or the nearby Brooklyn and Queens neighborhoods.   More than a few of them are contractors or have other kinds of businesses that requir them to haul a lot of equipment into, and out of, Manhattan or the areas near it.   I am not a sociologist, but I feel confident in concluding, from my own observations, that most such commuters are not cyclists.

I mention all of these things because reading about the launch of the LA bike share program got me to thinking about things I've noticed during the three decades I've been cycling in New York.  As I've mentioned in other posts, back in the mid-'80s, the neighborhoods that now comprise what I call Hipster Hook were mostly blue-collar, white-ethnic enclaves (Greeks and Italians in Astoria, Poles and Irish in Greenpoint, for example).  In those neighborhoods, people simply didn't ride bikes once they were old enough to drive. (Many never rode bikes, period.)  Very often, I would ride along the East River and New York Bay from Astoria Park all the way to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge--or even to Coney Island--without encountering another cyclist.

People who rode for fun, or even to commute, lived mainly in places like Greenwich Village, the Upper East and West Sides and Park Slope.  Those were home mainly to single people or young couples with varying amounts of disposable income--and without children.  Most didn't live far from where they worked, or they were artists or independent business people of one kind or another.  

In those days, the blue-collar and middle-class people I've described rarely, if ever, encountered cyclists--or anyone--from the milieu I described in the previous paragraph. But, as places like Williamsburg started to fill up with trust-fund kids on fixed-gear bikes, older and poorer residents looked at them as "privileged children" who were "taking over" their streets and sidewalks--and other public spaces.

Thus, older residents started to equate bicycles with privilege.  I guess it's easy to resent someone who looks like he or she is having fun--and is younger and fitter than you--when you're fighting traffic (or the crowds on the buses and trains)  to get to and from a job you hate so that you can pay for things your kids don't appreciate.  

I can't help but to notice that any time people express their displeasure over new bike lanes that take away one of the lanes on which they were accustomed to driving, or when a Citibike port appears on their block, they say that the city is catering to "privileged children".  Yes, they--as often as not--use that phrase.

I guess that, even at my age, I am one of the "privileged children"!

Joking aside, I got to thinking about the experiences and observations I've described when I learned that LA city officials hope that the new bike share program will bring riders back to the Metro system.  What I found especially revealing is the finding that one cause of the decline in Metro ridership is gentrification:  working- and middle-class families are being priced out of the areas that offer mass transportation.  So, while I hope the new bike share program is successful, I can't help but to wonder how it will entice people who've had to move further away from their jobs--and, possibly, had to take second jobs--to ride bicycles to a Metro system--or jobs--that are further away from wherever they were living before they were dispalced.

In brief, I couldn't help but to wonder whether the LA Bike Share program--or, more important, the hope that it will bring people back to the Metro--might reveal, or magnify, social and economic class differences in the way people commute.  

LA Bike Share Launches: Will It Save The Metro?

New York, my home town, is known as the City That Never Sleeps.

Los Angeles, on the other hand, has been called The Place Where Nobody Walks.

Like most labels, neither is completely true, though there is at least a kernel of truth to both.  About the Big Apple:  I know that at least one person sleeps because, well, at my age, it's harder to stay up at all hours than it was in my youth.  It's been a while since I've been to the City of Angels, but as I recall, it's not as conducive to pedestrians as, say, Paris. (Then again, how many cities are?)  And I don't recall seeing other cyclists when I rode there.  For that matter, I don't recall seeing anyone else walking on the Walk of Fame when I walked it. (OK, now you know another one of my dim, dark secrets! ;-))

Now, if any of you are reading this blog from Southern California, please don't hate on me.  I'll admit that I preferred San Francisco (and, hey, how can you not prefer the Central Coast to almost any other coastal area?), but I found things to like about the LA area, even though family members I didn't want to see were living there the last time I stayed.

Anyway...Something interesting is happening in one of the first metropolises to be developed for and around the automobile. (According to at least one history I've read, the motel was invented there.)  Could it really be that Angelenos are giving up their automobiles?  Might people go motorless in Santa Monica?

Well, perhaps things won't go that way just yet.  However, an idea that's taken hold in other cities around the world is about to come LA's way.

Tomorrow, the City of Los Angeles and Metro, its mass-transit authority, are launching a bike-share program.  About 1000 bikes will be available in 65 locations around the downtown area, including Union Station, City Hall, the Convention Center, Chinatown, the Arts District, Little Tokyo and the Fashion District. 

 Many of the bike ports will be close to Metro rail and bus stations.  This is not surprising when one considers that in other places, like Manhattan, people ride share bikes to subway and bus stations or from suburban commuter lines.  However, the reason why LA Metro bikes will be so placed is one I have never heard before:  Officials want to use the bike share program to not only reduce the number of automobile trips, but also to increase Metro ridership.

According to at least one report, the number of people who ride the buses (which comprise about 75 percent of the Metro system) and trains has been declining.  A number of factors have been cited, including fare hikes.  Interestingly, one reason given for the decline has been gentrification.  Working-class families are being priced out some neighborhoods that offer convenient mass transportation.  So, they have to move further away from their jobs, often to areas that don't have mass transportation.  They may also have to take on an additional job. Getting to either or both on time via mass transit--even if it is available--is often difficult, if not impossible.  Thus, another car is part of the next jam on the 10 Freeway.

This scenario contrasts with what has happened in other cities, like New York, where gentrification has actually contributed to increases in mass-transit ridership and may have saved previously-moribund lines from shutting down.





If the bike share system actually increases Metro ridership, it will create another contrast between Los Angeles and other cities with bike share programs.  In Washington DC, as an example, commuters are using the bike share program instead of the rail and bus lines.  In one way, that is not necessarily a negative development, as the rail lines are congested and there is neither the space nor the money to build new ones.  But is it a harbinger for what could happen in Los Angeles?

Whatever the case, I am glad that the Los Angeles bike share program is set to launch tomorrow.  If it gets more people on bikes, it's a success.  And if it can get people out of their cars, so much the better.

Stoopidtall

If you're reading this, you've probably seen at least one "funny bike":  you know, the kind with one frame is stacked on top of another.  

I've seen as many as four frames stacked up, with I-don't-know-how-many kilometers of chain connecting the cranks bearing the pedals with conveyor cogs and the sprocket that spins the chain that drives the rear wheel.  It was parked, so I don't know who (or whether anyone) rode it, let alone how he or she would have mounted such a machine.  

Turns out, that bike wasn't nearly as tall as one someone rode (yes, rode) at Ciclavia, a car-free bike ride through Los Angeles streets.  

Now I'm going to show you how much of an East Coaster I am:  I can't believe I typed the "car-free" and "Los Angeles" in the same sentence.  Still, I find it even more incredible that someone was actually astride that contraption.

If you really want to be amazed, here's a video of someone riding it:

That intrepid cyclist is 14.5 feet (about 4 meters) above Santa Monica Boulevard, or wherever he was riding.  Although I admire him, I don't think I would try it at home--or L.A., or anywhere else.

If that bike were ever to come to New York, its name would help it to fit right in:  It's called Stoopidtall.