Jason Lohr R.I.P.

 When a crash results in the death of a cyclist, the tragedy doesn’t end there. 

Such is the case of Jason Lohr. The 49-year-old bartender was riding northbound on Frankford Avenue, one of Philadelphia’s major thoroughfares, around 11:30 pm on 20 November. A driver traveling southbound made a left turn on East Hagert Street and collided with Jason, who died from his injuries last weekend.

The driver remained at the scene and is cooperating with the investigation

Jason was, apparently, extremely popular not only with patrons where he worked, but also in the local music and arts scenes.  Certainly, many people will miss him, but perhaps none more than his brother Dan. He is pleading with the city for more bike lanes—there is none on Frankford—and for cyclists to be “proactive.”

The Bicycle Coalition of Philadelphia is urging anyone who knows, or has lost, someone who was involved in a crash to reach out to Families For Safe Streets Greater Philadelphia by emailing nicole@bicyclecoalition.org.

And Standard Tap has a GoFundMe page for Jason Lohr and his family.

Paying Attention to Cyclists in the City of Brotherly Love

Two months ago, Barbara Friedes was riding her bike on Philadelphia’s Spruce Street bike lane. An alleged drunk driver swerved into the lane and hit her from behind.

The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia was left with one fewer doctor than it had before the crash.

To its credit, the local affiliate of CBS News has been following bicycle safety in the City of Brotherly Love. The station’s investigation has not only followed crashes caused by drunk, careless or entitled drivers. It has also pursued such issues as city-issued permits—which the investigators called “questionable”—allowing churches to park in bike lanes on Sundays.

(That reminds me of something that might be touchy in this time of the Israel-Gaza conflict: The ultra-orthodox Jewish communities in my hometown of New York have a history of opposing nearly all bike-favorable policies and infrastructure on the grounds of “religious freedom.”)

Turns out, Philadelphia City Council President Kenyatta Johnson has also been paying attention. He has introduced a bill nicknamed the “Get Out of the Bike Lane” legislation. If passed, it would increase fines from $75 to $125 for parking or stopping in bike lanes in Center City or University City. Fines for similar infractions in other parts of the city would increase from $50 to $75.

Connections In (And To) The CIty Of Brotherly Love

 If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that some of my pet peeves include New York's, and other US cities', follies in creating "bicycle infrastructure."  Often, it seems that those who conceive, plan, design and build bike lanes and other facilities haven't been on a bicycle since they got their driver's licenses, or at all.  

Evidence that I am not engaging in conspiracy theories or am simply a chronic complainer can be seen in the routing of bike lanes.  Too often, they put cyclists in more danger than they'd face while riding in traffic. They force cyclists to cross intersections where drivers--sometimes of buses and trucks--are making right turns in front of them.  Or they are simply poorly marked and maintained.

One of the hazards, which seems like a mere inconvenience to anybody who doesn't cycle, is the way some lanes begin or end seemingly out of the blue:  what I call the bike lanes from nowhere to nowhere.  When such a lane begins or ends abruptly--in some cases, in mid-block--motorists and cyclists alike are caught unawares, which probably does more than anything else to increase chances of a tragic encounter.

Those lanes from "nowhere to nowhere" also help to foster the attitude among non-cyclists that we're a bunch of entitled whiners engaging in a frivolous recreational activity.  While I do ride for recreation (or, more precisely, physical and mental health), I also ride for transportation.  So do many other riders in this city, and others:  They go to work or school,  visit friends and family members as well as museums and other venues, or the store, on their bikes.  Some might go a few blocks, but others--like me--venture beyond our neighborhoods and even our cities.

It must be said that I have been cycling for most of my life and in this city for about four decades.  I rode to school and work when none of my peers did; I pedaled through neighborhoods and towns when I was the only adult cyclist most residents had seen.  So, for me, the absence or presence of cycling "infrastructure" won't affect my decisions to ride or not.  

But, for a prospective, new or less-experienced cyclist, it might.  They might decide to pedal to their classrooms, workplaces or any other place they want or need to frequent if they felt there was a coherent system of bike lanes or other routes that could take them safely for all or much of their trip.  Not only would such a system allow them to ride with fewer worries about traffic, it would make navigating a route easier.

The Schuylkill River Trail

The Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia seems to understand as much.  That is why they have been working with the city's Circuit Trails network to fill in the "gaps" between some of the lanes within the City of Brotherly Love--and the communities surrounding it.  The stated goals of the program are 500 miles of trails by 2025 that will be--and this, to me, is the more important goal--that will be part of an integrated system.

Such a network, I believe, might entice some people who live in nearby suburbs--including a few, like Cherry Hill, across the Delaware river in New Jersey--to commute or take pleasure trips into the city by bicycle.  

Parking Patrols In Philadelphia

 Yesterday fit almost anybody’s definition of a perfect Spring day: warm (but not too), sunny, with enough wind to toss the hair hanging below my helmet.  I decided to take a ride I hadn’t taken in a while:  across the George Washington Bridge and down the Palisades.

To get to the Bridge, I followed another route I hadn’t pedaled in a while:  up the Park Avenue bike lane that runs alongside the Metro North tracks in the Bronx.

At least, I tried to.  At 170th Street, construction work closed off the path for part of a block.  That meant veering into the single lane of traffic, which consisted mainly of delivery and car service vehicles, all driven by folks tense and angry.  

After that detour, the lane was clear for about half a block—until I encountered a few vehicles parked in the lane.  Another detour, about 50 meters of clear lane, more parked cars.  Rinse and repeat for a couple more blocks until East Tremont Avenue, where an ambulance and fire department truck screamed through the intersection.  Two of the drivers by whom I’d been zigging and zagging shot through just before the emergency vehicles. The ones who couldn’t make it through—who were beside and behind me—honked their horns and cursed in a couple of languages I understand, and a couple I don’t.

Finally, I gave up on that lane and turned left on Tremont, which took me to University Heights and the old aqueduct, commonly known as the “High Bridge” into Upper Manhattan, not far from the GWB.

I thought about writing to or calling the city Department of Transportation but realized that my email probably wouldn’t be opened, or my call answered, unless I sent photos—and I hadn’t taken any.  But, coincidentally, I came across this story from Philadelphia:  The city’s Parking Authority is adding bike patrols specifically to monitor drivers who park illegally in bike lanes.

“Just look around. Parked all the time, makes the bike lanes pretty useless,” said cyclist Nic Reynard.  He explained—as I saw on yesterday’s ride—that having to move out of a blocked lane can be even more dangerous than riding without a bike lane because “I don’t know what the car next to me is going to do.”

The new patrols, therefore, are just one step in making cities safer for cyclists—and pedestrians and drivers. Streets themselves need to be more amenable to everyone, and greater awareness of cyclists and cycling must be fostered in drivers. And law enforcement officials need to take incidents of motorists maiming or killing cyclists—which, with increasing frequency, are deliberate acts—seriously.

In Philadelphia, You Can Park By A Hydrant If....

Firefighters might be one of the most loved and respected groups of people.  Even they, however, sometimes incur rage for doing their jobs.   As an example, one firefighter told me about the man who showed up at his firehouse, irate.  Turns out, the guy parked next to a hydrant and the firefighters had to damage his car to route the hose and ladder to an inflamed building.

Philadelphia has one of the largest communities of bicycle commuters in the US.  In one part of the city, nearly a fifth of all commuting miles are done by bicycle. Riders in the City of Brotherly love have similar complaints to their peers in other cities.  One is the lack of bike parking spaces:  Especially in central areas, where many work or go to school, cyclists find full racks when the try to park their bikes.

So, you ask, how are those two stories related?

The common thread was woven when three young people met in graduate school for industrial design. Grace Choi, Corey Jameson and Colin Lew formed an alliance called Team Sophon.  Under that moniker, they submitted a proposal to the Rack 'Em Up Bike Parking Competition.  Along with 16 others entries, Team Sophon's ideas were judged by a panel that included members of the city's Office of Transportation, Infrastructure and Sustainability (OTIS), Parking Authority, Fire Department and other agencies.  Five of  those entries were short-listed, and Team Sophon's was ultimately chosen.

Team Sophon's prototype, called "Harbor,"  would include a designated space in front of a hydrant where cyclists would stop and steer their bikes to the racks. That space--painted green--would be segregated by flexible barriers like the ones used to separate bike lanes from streets. Steel bollocks were initially proposed for the purpose, but selection committee members expressed concern that they could be dangerous in a crash.  And the racks, made from thick steel tubing, would sit under a canopy illuminated by solar-powered lights that would be activated when users enter.

Team Sophon's victory comes with a $3500 prize.  To begin, at least two Harbors will be built: one in West Philadelphia and another in the Old City, near a garage owned by the Philadelphia Parking Authority.

Those facilities will at least make some firefighters and cyclists happy.  Motorists, maybe not so much.

To Continue His Work—And Passions

At schools and universities, celebrated alumni are memorialized with libraries, collections, laboratories, galleries and other facilities named for them.

Not many, though, have bicycle repair shops or programs that bear their names.

I must say, however, that few people would want to take the route to fame, if you will, of Sam Ozer.

Last year, days after his graduation from the AIM Academy in Philadelphia—where he was the co-captain of the mountain biking team—was riding along Henry Street when he was struck by a vehicle.

The fatal crash was accompanied by some terrible ironies:  It was Fathers’ Day and he was going to spend time with his Dad, Sidney—who, along with Sam’s grandfather Morris, were founding members of the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia.

Even if he hadn’t been working at the Trek Manayunk Bicycle Shop on Main Street, Anne Rock, his cycling coach, would not have been exaggerating when she said bicycling was “in his blood.” His passion for cycling was accompanied by his love of the outdoors, which may have been inculcated by his mother, Mindy Maslin, the founder and program manager of Tree Tenders for the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society.

Thanks to her, her husband’s, Ms. Rock’s and other people’s efforts, Sam’s school will have a bicycle repair shop and program.  Aside from commemorating the “grit” Ms. Maslin recalled in her only son, the shop and program are appropriate in another way:  The AIM Academy is a school for intelligent and gifted kids with dyslexia, and bicycling and bike repair helped to put Sam Ozer on a road to becoming a confident adult.  Before he graduated, he took two college courses and had been accepted in all six colleges to which he’d applied.