The Tax Is Unfair? Tax 'Em All!

I suppose I should thank my lucky stars that Donald Trump, a.k.a. El Cheeto Grande, is President.  Almost every day, he manages to say or do something that proves me right.  And I like being right.

Well, sometimes, anyway.

One notion of mine that Ein Trumpf manages to confirm on an almost daily basis is this:  There is no idea or policy so bad that a politician, or some public figure, won't double down on it.

Oregon's bike tax is a case in point.  The Beaver State's Legislature voted for it in July.  One of the bill's authors, state Senator Lee Beyer, said that the tax would ensure that cyclists "have skin in the game", apparently ignorant of the fact that we pay the same taxes that everyone else does.  And US Congressman and fellow Democrat Earl Blumenauer claimed that the tax would "raise the profile of cycling," whatever that means.

The rationale for the tax is based on faulty logic and some notions that are just plain wrong.  For one, the tax was supposed to apply to bicycles costing $500 or more because they are "luxury" items.  For someone who commutes or makes deliveries every day, such a machine is not a "luxury", and $500 is about what such a person would have to spend for a new bike that's reliable and durable.  If that wasn't bad enough, before the bill was approved, the threshold was lowered to $200.

Worse, it applies to bikes with wheels 26 inches or more in diameter because they are "adult" bikes. Never mind that some good bikes for adults, as well as most folding bikes (which many commuters use) have smaller wheels.  

So, instead of realizing how arbitrary their distinctions-- and how unfair and ineffective the tax-- would be, a state Legislative committee wants to do away with 26 inch lower limit but keep the $200 threshold.  But, just as there are adult bikes with wheels smaller than 26 inches, some kids' bikes cost well north of $200.  

Tax me if you can!

Even worse, to my mind, than any ignorant or misguided definition "luxury" or "adult-sized" is the stipulation that the tax will  be used to help improve and maintain the state's
"bicycle infrastructure" system.  Now, whenever I hear that phrase, I'm skeptical:  What do they mean by it?  Bike lanes and paths?  I've seen too many that are so poorly-designed,-constructed and -maintained to think "More are better!" Bicycle safety classes?  If so, for whom?  Drivers?  Kids?  

As I said previously, cyclists are paying the same taxes as everyone else.  That includes gasoline tax:  In states like Oregon, nearly all cyclists are also drivers, or at least car owners.  The taxes (and I'm not only talking about the ones for petrol) everyone pays are supposed to help improve and maintain the transportation system--of which the "bicycle infrastructure" (the paths and lanes, anyway) are a part.  If the "infrastructure" were conceived by engineers and other professionals who are cyclists, I might not mind paying more.  But if a new tax is only going to buy more of the same, I'm against it.  

Moreover, as left-ish as I am, I still retain some of my youthful libertarian skepticism and cynicism about what the government will actually do once it gets the money.  Will it be siphoned off into something other than its stated purpose?  Will some politician's pet project be classified as cycling or transportation "infrastructure" so it can receive some of the tax revenue?

If there is no idea or policy so bad that someone with power won't double down on it, there isn't a project so poorly conceived or simply wasteful that someone doesn't want to throw more money at it.  And, of course, such people would never pay for such a project themselves:  They will tax someone else for the privilege.

How A More Accurate "Bicycle Census" Could Save Lives

There are a number of reasons why too many bike infrastructure projects--including any number of bike lanes I've ridden--do little or nothing to make cycling safer or more convenient.  If anything, some of those projects--including lanes that lead cyclists straight into the path of turning vehicles or merging traffic--put cyclists in more danger than they'd experience if they rode in traffic.

One reason why so many bike infrastructure projects are ill-conceived, -planned or -executed is that, too often, planners have an inaccurate idea--or no idea at all--of how many cyclists are riding along a particular route or at a given time.  As often as not, planners have only a rough guesstimate of how many people ride per day, month or year.

One reason for that is the planners' methods and equipment for gathering data are designed to give accurate counts of motorized, but not cycling or pedestrian, traffic.  That is at least somewhat understandable:  After all, cars, trucks and buses are easier to detect, whether by humans or devices, than cyclists or pedestrians.  Also, most planners are educated and trained to collect, and pay attention to, "big data"--and their experience reinforces that bias.

"Little data", if you will, is especially relevant in regards to cycling because cyclists--whether they're riding to work, or for fitness or pleasure--take a greater variety of routes and have a wider range of destinations than most drivers.  While one can find clusters of cyclists in certain parts of a city, and along certain routes and certain times, those of us who pedal aren't clustered to the same degree as those who go where they want or must by putting a foot on the gas pedal.

Some researchers in Texas are  aware of what I am describing.  They are working on a pilot program, backed by the Texas Department of Transportation, to find more "nuanced data", in the words of Greg Griffin, about cycling and walking in Austin and Houston.   

The goal, says Griffin, is to better inform, among other things, Austin's corridor project, which will build lanes along nine roads.   That project received funding from the mobility bond Texas voters chose last year, but the City Council hasn't approved construction plans.  A draft of those plans is expected to go before the City Council next year and Griffin, a Texas A&M researcher, hopes to better inform the project and others like it.

He and other researchers are trying a number of methods to count cyclists, such as gathering data from Strava and other apps.  Of course, not all cyclists use them, so Griffin and his team are also installing pneumatic tubes similar to the ones used to count cars along roads frequently used by cyclists.  Those tubes, however, last only a few weeks, so he is trying to have permanent counters installed and recruiting cyclists and others to interview cyclists about their riding habits.

A variety of methods must be used, he says, because using only one would skew the results toward one type of cyclist over another.  For example, merely taking data from apps, he says, would result in "planning for people that are buying apps--instead of your community."

 He and others hope that better methods of taking a cycling census, if you will, will help to lay a "foundation for being able to save lives through infrastructure changes."

Cycling: Socially Profitable--And Good For Business

As an undergraduate, I took an economics class.  The thing I remember most is the professor intoning, "Marginal Revenue equals Marginal Cost", then pounding the podium  and shouting "Always!"  I don't recall, exactly, what that means, but I do understand--more or less--by two other phrases he seemed to use in every class:  "supply and demand" and "benefit cost analysis."

That last phrase might be one of the few things I actually understood in that class, which may be the reason why it's probably the only thing I took from that class and used in my daily life.  Well, sometimes, anyway.  I guess most of us perform some version of a "benefit cost analysis" when we're making important decisions.  

Of course, the "benefits" and "costs" are not always monetarily measurable, or even quantifiable in any other way.   For example, we might give up some free time in order to volunteer for something, or simply to help someone.  The "cost" of the free time can't be measured; nor can the "benefit" of serving meals at a soup kitchen.  

Sometimes the costs and benefits of something are both quantitative and qualitative or, if you like, empirical and subjective.  An example is a city's efforts to encourage cycling.  

What's interesting is that the authors of a study from the Spanish research group Applied Economics and Management, which is based at the University of Seville, set out to discover whether building cycling infrastructure in their city--and generally--is a net gain.  One thing that sets their study apart from others like it, however, is that the economists involved didn't try to calculate only business profitability.  Instead, they tried to measure what is commonly called "social profitability":  Does the investment make the city a better place to live?

Now, if you ask cyclists--or people who want to make their cities "bicycle friendly"--that question in reference to bicycle infrastructure, their reflexive answer would be "Yes!"  And, on the whole, the authors of the study agree, but with some caveats.

Those researchers seem to share some of my skepticism about bike lanes.  Indeed, they conclude that it's not enough that Seville has constructed 140 kilometers (about 87 miles) of bike lanes or 260 bike-share share stations.  They are just two elements of a scheme that would actually entice more people to ride bikes to work, school, shop or play.  The authors, therefore, advise that other  "complementary services", such as places to safely and securely park bicycles at the beginnings and ends of routes, are necessary.  Absent such measures, they say, cycling for transportation in Seville "will probably enter a period of stagnation, not to say decline."

Yes, they understand that "bicycle infrastructure" isn't just bike share programs and bike lanes and that they alone don't make cities "bike friendly."  (If anything, the poorly-conceived, designed, constructed and maintained bike lanes I've encountered probably keep people from cycling and discourage those who've just started.)  Moreover, they also acknowledge that public projects often end up costing a lot more than anyone anticipated, especially in a country like Spain, notorious for its corruption and the over-spending that results from it.

Even weighing in such factors, the researchers found a remarkably high social profitability to the bike lanes and stations that have been constructed. That, even as University of Seville Economics Professor Jose Ignacio Castillo Manzano, the chief author of the study, says that his team used a "conservative approach" that didn't take into account such factors as the reduction of traffic and noise levels or the national and international recognition the city has earned for its use of the bicycle.

So, the short answer is, yes, building bicycle infrastructure--the right kind, anyway is socially profitable--and good for business!

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.

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!

As I Was Saying...

If you've been reading this blog, you know that I am, in general, not a big fan of bike lanes.  At least, I don't like bike lanes as they're (mis)conceived, designed, constructed, regulated and maintained here in New York, and in too many other US locales.

And I have another peeve about bike lanes--again, mainly about the ones here in the Big Apple.  One of my posts from a few days ago began with it:

One of the reasons I don't like to use bike lanes, at least here in New York, is that motor vehicles frequently pull in and out, and sometimes park, in them.

Well, wouldn't you know it...This is what I encountered while riding to work this morning:

A few weeks ago, a new bike lane opened on the north side of Hoyt Avenue, the wide boulevard that straddles the entrance to the RFK Memorial Bridge.  Traffic is westbound, one-way on the north side, above which the bridge's pedestrian-bike lane arcs.  (Traffic is eastbound one-way on the south side.)  The lane runs eastbound--in the direction opposite the traffic.  There are two rationales for that, I guess:  1.) The lane is intended, at least in part, to provide access to the bridge's pedestrian/bike lane; and 2.) The lane is "protected", meaning that there are pylons separating it from the motorized traffic.

Although the lane hasn't been open for very long, this wasn't the first time I've seen a vehicle parked in it.  Worse, I've seen a truck or van in the lane, and another motorized vehicle on the sidewalk: There are maintenance and storage facilities in the real estate around the bridge pillars. 

Woe betide the cyclist who unwittingly turns on to the lane: If both the lane and the sidewalk are blocked, there is no choice but to ride in the traffic lane--against traffic--or to make a U-turn back on to 26th Street, which is one-way. If the sidewalk is free, a cyclist can use it as long as some highway cop with too much time on his hands isn't looking to meet his ticket quota for the month.

For the time being, I think I will take the route I had been taking most days before the lane opened:  I will ride up 23rd Street to the south side of Hoyt Avenue, turn at 27th Street, cross under the bridge overpass and access the bridge's pedestrian/bike lane from there.

I must say, though, that in spite of the obstacle, I had a pleasant commute.  As you can see in the photo--which I hastily took with my cell phone--it was a beautiful morning.  And, when I stopped to take the photo a nice young lady named Rachel--who probably thought I was looking at a GPS or some other app-- asked whether I was trying to find something.  I explained what I was doing and told her about this blog.  And she told me about some rides that might start soon on Randall's Island, where she works--and through which I ride during my commute!

What's Worse Than A Bad Bike Lane? Bad Bike Lane Regulation!

One of the reasons why I don't like to use bike lanes, at least here in New York, is that motorized vehicles frequently pull in and out, and sometimes park in them.  I've even seen drivers use bike lanes for passing.

The problem is that if a car pulls in, or parks, in the lane, there is no room for you to get around it, especially if the lane is "protected", i.e., has a barrier between it and the street.  At least, if only a painted line separates you from the street, you can veer into the traffic lane.  

Another problem is that drivers often pull into the lane without warning--and, it seems, without looking to see whether cyclists are in the lane. If you are riding in the street and someone makes a sudden turn, you most likely can move over or shift into another lane.  You don't have that option in a bike lane--again, especially a "protected" one. 

I did not notice such problems when I recently rode bike lanes in Paris and Montreal:  Drivers in those cities seem more cognizant that bike lanes are for, well, bikes.  That, or the regulations that prohibit motor vehicles are more strictly enforced.  

On the other hand, it seems that cyclists in other American cities have experiences with bike lanes similar to the ones I and other cyclists have in New York.  Bob Collins, a blogger and news editor for Minnesota Public Radio, offers this:  "The biggest problem with bike lanes in the Twin Cities isn't cyclists; it's people who insist on parking their cars in them."

That statement is particularly notable because during the past few years, Minneapolis has stolen some of Portland's, as well as San Francisco's and New York's, thunder as a "bike friendly" city.  In 2015, Minneapolis was the only US municipality in Copenhagenize Design Company's index of the world's 20 most bike-friendly cities.  Montreal was the only other North American city on the list.

(Copenhagenize's previous indexes were published in 2011 and 2013.  I am guessing they will publish another this year, though I have seen no indication of that on their site.)

Anyway, Mr. Collins shows us that there is no end to the ignorance or hostility of lawmakers when it comes to cycling.  Some want, or claim to want, to make things safer for us.  Others simply don't want to upset drivers, who make up a much larger constituency than cyclists, or see us as renegades, scofflaws or worse.

I don't know which, if either, of those categories includes Minnesota State Representative Duane Quam.  Instead of working on regulations to keep motorists from driving or parking in bike lanes--or, for that matter, from texting or talking on cell phones while driving--he has the brilliant idea of limiting access to bike lanes and deterring young people from cycling.  

At least, that seems to be the intent of the bill he's filed with the State Legislature.  Among other things, it would require anyone who wants to use the bike lanes to take a safety course, register his or her bike and pay an annual $5 fee.

But the most absurd part of that bill stipulates that anyone who rides in a bike lane has to be at least 15 years old.  "It's not clear where people under 15--kids going to school comes to mind--are supposed to ride their bikes," Collins wryly notes.  He also notes another onerous aspect of the bill:  that it applies only to areas with "structures devoted to business, industry or dwelling houses situated at intervals of less than 100 feet for a distance of a quarter mile or more.  

In other words, as Collins astutely observes, it is aimed at Minneapolis and St. Paul.  Representative Byron comes from Byron, a town of 5063 residents--and no bike lanes.

Loves "Bicycle Thieves." Hates Cyclists?

Nobody has an unbiased opinion--well, all right, nobody has an unbiased opinion, right?

So let's just say that nobody can be, um, neutral when it comes to Woody Allen.

As repulsed as I was by his affair with, then marriage to, a woman decades younger than he whom he and his ex-wife adopted as a baby, I was--still am--willing to admit that I enjoyed Annie Hall and Manhattan when they came out.  I thought even Hannah and Her Sisters and Stardust Memories were pretty good.  All right, I'll admit that part of the latter film's appeal for me lay in my uncle's bit role in it.

Emma Stone and Joaquin Phoenix in Irrational  Man

But almost nothing he's done since Hannah has appealed to me.  Irrational Man, which came out last year, was torture to see:  It felt like a murder mystery written the way some self-absorbed sophomore imagines how Jean-Paul Sartre or Soren Kierkegaard might have written it.  Or, perhaps, it's Woody Allen's own idea of how he might have made Dead Poets Society (a favorite of mine) were he up to the task.

I know, I'm not Pauline Kael.  So why am I ranting about a would-be auteur whose time has come and gone in this blog?  Well, I have recently found another thing to further becloud my judgment when it comes to Mr. Allen:  He's anti-bike.  More precisely, he's anti-cyclist.

Woody Allen at the Community Board meeting n which he voiced his opposition to bike lanes on Manhattan's Upper East Side.

He didn't become that way overnight, although it became plain for all to see when he opposed the city's plan to paint a bike lane on East 70th Street--which just happens to be the street on which he lives.  (A little bit of NIMBY, wouldn't you say?) For years, he's been blaming "out of control" cyclists for making the city a worse place.  Why, he even blames them (us:  He thinks all cyclists are "out of control"!) for everything from making the streets more dangerous to--are you ready for this?-- that there is no "graceful" way for any street on the Upper East Side, where he lives, to accomodate bike lanes.

He made his prejudices known at his local community board's hearing in May.  But not everyone who attended that meeting agreed with him.  And, apparently, not the city's Department of Transportation, either:  While they decided not to paint lanes on East 70th and 71st Streets, they are going to put them on East 67th and 68th Streets as well as 77th and 78th, and 84th and 85th, Streets.  Traffic on each of those streets is unidirectional:  eastbound on the even-numbered streets of each pairing, and westbound on the odd-numbered ones.  All of them run from Central Park (at Fifth Avenue) to the East River.

For what it's worth, Allen still says that Bicycle Thieves is still one of his favorite films, but admits that he doesn't have it in him to make anything of its magnitude.

Today: Shared Streets And Summer Streets

Today is Shared Streets Day.

No, it's not another one of those holidays created by FTD or the publishers of calendars and greeting cards.

Instead, it creates an almost traffic-free environment on what are--on weekdays, anyway--some of the busiest streets in the world.  Cars will have access to them only through checkpoints, and will be asked to drive at no more than five miles per hour (8kph).  Cyclists and pedestrians, on the other hand, will be able to enter and leave them freely.

From DIY Biking

The restricted streets will comprise a 60 square-block area south of New York's City Hall.  Most of them are in Manhattan's Financial District, which normally doesn't see a lot of traffic on weekends, especially in the summer.  In fact, I've taken dates and out-of-town visitors on rides in that area when the Stock Exchange and financial institutions are closed, and everyone marveled on how oddly bucolic it seemed.  It was as if the glass and steel towers were holding the noise and haste at bay.

Shared Streets area.

I'd bet that even most native New Yorkers have never enjoyed that part of town on a summer weekend.  For that reason alone, I think that area is a good place for Shared Streets Day.  Plus, it includes some of Manhattan's most historic sites, including the Customs House (ironically, now the home of the Museum of the American Indian),  Coenties Slip and the Woolworth Building.  It also includes such notable monuments as the Louise Nevelson Park and 9/11 Memorial and, well, tourist traps like the South Street Seaport.  

This event is being held today in addition to the Summer Streets Program, which took place last Saturday and will return next Saturday.  Nearly seven miles of major Manhattan Streets, running from Central Park at East 72nd Street to the Brooklyn Bridge, will be closed to traffic.  There will be rest stops as well as performances and other cultural events, as well as bike repair stands, along the way.

A Summer Streets stop, 2015.

While today is the first Shared Streets Day, the Summer Streets program has been held every August since 2008.  Not surprisingly, some drivers have complained about Summer Streets, although not as many as one might expect:  although not as quiet as the Shared Streets are on weekends and during the summer, traffic is generally lighter on the Summer Streets routes during those times.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Shared Streets, though, is that it encompasses the oldest parts of Manhattan (or, at least, the first parts to be settled and built upon by European colonizers).  Thus, for most of its history, it was traversed mainly by pedestrians; only horses and, later, bicycles would break the monopoly walkers would enjoy over the area.  Now that area of the city is being returned, mostly, if only for a day, to human-powered transportation.

Bike Lane Follies, Here And Down Under

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you might have noticed that I am not enthusiastic, in general, about bike lanes. 

A separate bike lane, especially one that runs alongside traffic, is not intrinsically safer for cyclists than a traffic lane on a typical city or suburban street.  The biggest flaw in most bike lanes I've seen and ridden is that they're positioned so that it's all but impossible for cyclists, especially inexperienced ones, to turn or cross safely at major intersections.  This is particularly true for those lanes that, in effect, turn into the right-turn lane for motor vehicles at such intersections, or for those streets that have right-turn-only lanes that cross the bike lane.  Things are even worse for a cyclist making a left turn at such an intersection, as he or she must cross several lanes of traffic coming from different directions.  This particular hazard is exacerbated when traffic flows off a highway into the intersection.

There are also other hazards, such as pedestrians who use the bike lanes as sidewalks or who wander onto them while they're texting or talking on their phones.  Two of the worst lanes I've experienced for that are the portion of Manhattan's First Avenue lane below (south of) 14th Street and Brooklyn's Kent Avenue lane (the one that skirts the Williamsburg waterfront).  Both lanes are lined with stores, restaurants, clubs and bars.  The clubs and bars pose particular hazards, especially during evenings and weekends, with patrons staggering out to the lanes.  But even shoppers and restaurant-goers too often aren't paying attention to their surroundings as they walk, and sometimes talk, with others.  And, of course, the drinkers, shoppers and restaurant-goers often leave debris in the lane.

Not to mention the drivers who steer their vans and trucks into the lanes to make deliveries at those establishments--or the driver who  pulls in mistakenly, to make a turn or, on rare occasion, out of sheer malice.  And, yes, police officers who their cruisers in the lanes while they're having coffee.

But even worse than the hazards I've mentioned or lanes that are poorly-designed (or -constructed or -maintained) are those that are built in ignorance or defiance of regulations governing them.  One such lane is found in Melbourne, Australia:



Apparently, according to Austroad's guidelines (see p. 30, Figure 4.27) a bike lane should be 1.2 to 1.5 meters wide and be separated from the parking lane by a strip 0.4 to 1.0 meters wide.  The bike lane in the video clearly does not follow that principle.

A few years ago, I was "doored" in a similar lane not far from my apartment in Queens.  The marked bike lane was not in any way separated from the parking lane to the right of it.  Fortunately for me, I did not take a full facial hit; I took a glancing blow that left me looking like I was pregnant on one side for a couple of weeks.

Now, from what I understand, Austroad's guidelines are not law or in-any-other-way-binding policy, so perhaps the designer of the lane in the video was (in addition to a non-cyclist, most likely) possibly ignorant of them. 

Similarly, the Department of Transportation here in New York City has guidelines for bike lanes (pp.55-59) but they are essentially unenforceable.  To be fair, those guidelines include some of the flaws I have pointed out in this and other posts.  However, the guidelines call for physical barriers between two-way bike lanes and arterial streets, in addition to clear markings between one-way bike lanes and narrower streets.  I have ridden on bike lanes that fail to meet those criteria.  And, worse, those lanes include some of the other design flaws I've mentioned, particularly when it comes to turns and merges--or, worst of all, bike lanes that suddenly disappear.

The thing that rankles me most, though, is that even such dry technical documents as the ones issued by the Department of Transportation continue to blithely tout the "benefits" of bike lanes for cyclists as well as motorists.    A poorly-designed or -constructed bike lane helps no one and, if anything, only fuels anger and resentments between motorists and cyclists.
 

The Bike Czar In A Black Dress

In the past decade or so, cities all over North America and Europe have tried--sometimes in misguided ways--to encourage more people to ride bikes to work and school, for shopping and for fun.  Lanes have been built, share programs started and commissions and committees organized or appointed--and organizations consulted--for insights into what would lure people out of four-wheeled vehicles and onto two-wheelers.  In some cities, these efforts have been followed by (if not resulted in) rapidly-increasing numbers of cyclists.

Atlanta, it seems, has not been one of those cities.  Nearly three years ago, Mayor Kasim Reed set a goal of making  his city one of the most "bike friendly" in the US by this year.  Much to his credit, he has worked hard toward that goal in a city with some of the worst traffic and longest commutes in the nation.  But,  a torrent of anti-bike backlash caused the Georgia Department of Transportation to remove bike lanes from its plans to re-stripe Peachtree Road, one of the busiest thoroughfares in the city.  And the bike share program, scheduled to begin before the end of 2015, now won't launch until this coming summer.

On the other hand, Dogwood City has just made a bold move that no other community--no, not even Portland or Minneapolis--has ventured.  One of the problems in most cities is that bicycle lanes and other infrastructure come under the purview of the local Department of Transportation or its equivalent.  Because there are many more motorists than cyclists (yes, even in the Rosebud and Mill Cities) and because bicycle infrastructure commands relatively small sums of money, bicycling is usually not a high priority in most DoTs.  In most places, there is not a full-time planner, engineer, organizer or lawyer who deals exclusively or even mainly with cycling-related issues.  Thus, there is neither an advocate nor an ombudsman for cycling in most places.

It looks as if "The Big Peach" might have solved that problem.  Last month,  the city hired Becky Katz as its first Chief Bicycle Officer.  The Atlanta Bicycle Coalition made the position possible, in large part, and received a five-year grant from the Atlanta Falcons Youth Foundation to help fund it.  The city has promised to add additional money.

Becky Katz

I knew nothing about Ms. Katz until I read about her appointment today.  If nothing else, she has firsthand knowledge of what cyclists in "The Big A" face:  She is a cyclist who, last year, was rear-ended by a motorist while she was riding on a wide street with low traffic.  The impact tossed her onto the windshield, where her helmet shattered the glass and she broke a shoulder socket  and wrist.  Her bike was totaled. 

Within two months, she'd bought another bike and was on it, even more determined to make cycling safer and more accessible in her city.  "Within moments [of being struck], I was thinking, 'this has got to be better.'"  She also realized that making streets safer for cyclists would also mean making them safer for motorists.

Since becoming the city's bike czar in October, Katz has been focusing on gathering data about cyclists--where and when they ride, where there are crashes and which roads are most stressful to cyclists and pedestrians.  "Data builds a strong case for why bike infrastructure can help all users of the road," she explains.

It may also--I hope--Atlanta avoid some of the mistakes other cities have made.  If it does, the delay in starting the bike share program or cancellation of bike lanes on Peachtree Road may turn out to benefit the community of cyclists in the Empire City of the South.

Metamorphosis: NYC Streets

Anybody who's been cycling in New York for a decade or more knows that riding this city's streets is much different now from how it was then. 

The most obvious changes are the bike lanes--which were all but nonexistent in the early 2000s--and, of course, Citibike.  Also, there are purely and simply more people riding--and, as I've recounted in other posts, I encounter other cyclists while riding along streets and in neighborhoods where, not so long ago, I would be the only person on a bike.

As I've also discussed in other posts, I don't think the changes have necessarily made this a better city for cyclists.  Some of the lanes are poorly designed (a few lead to nowhere) and built.  Perhaps even worse is that the building of bike lanes and installation of Citibike ports doesn't seem to have accompanied a reduction in motorized traffic.  Streets can't be made any wider, so the bike lanes that run along major streets and avenues were created by blocking off one of the traffic lanes.  That has led to more traffic congestion and greater tension between motorists and cyclists--and between cyclists themselves. 

Some riders, most of  whom wouldn't have been riding had the bike lanes not been built, are as rude and aggressive as some of the worst drivers I've seen.  Years ago, I knew--at least by sight--most of the cyclists I'd see on a given day.  Even if we didn't know each other by name, we looked out for each other:  We signaled turns.  We didn't cut each other off. We alerted each other to broken glass and other hazards. Today, it seems, a lot of the newbies are riding as if they have blinders on.  And the ones who ride motorized and electric bikes are even worse!

So, even though I enjoyed the film I am including in this post, I do not share the view of filmmaker Clarence Eckerson Jr. that this city is more bike-friendly as a result of the changes it shows.  Still, the film is interesting to watch because it visually chronicles some of the changes in the appearance as well as the rhythms of the Big Apple:

 

A Crusader's Bike Lane

Some people have streets named after them.

For the longest time, I hoped to have a bridge named after me.  That dream began during my childhood when, from the roof of the building where my family lived, I watched workers pull cables and link girders that would become the Verrazano Narrows Bridge.

Sometimes I'd still like to have such a span named after me.  But now, if I were going to have anything named after me, I wouldn't mind a bike lane.  Not too many people have that, at least not yet.

One member of that club is a heroine of mine.  If you weren't living in New York during the 1990s, you probably haven't heard of her:  Julie (J.A.) Lobbia.

Every day, clad in bike gear, she'd roll her wheels into her office, where she'd change into one of the vintage dresses she found in flea markets.  At her desk, she'd write the stories she found while pedaling all over New York City, from the streets of Bed-Stuy to the avenues of Astoria, from East New York to the Upper West Side.

One of her rides uncovered a path of arson that predated the wave of gentrification that spilled over Williamsburg and other parts of Brooklyn. On other rides, she found everything from eviction notices to shards from construction sites led her to her stories.

But she was not a mere reporter or even just a researcher; she was a crusading journalist in the tradition of Jacob Riis, one of her idols.   She was also a kind of Sister of Mercy, if you will:  When an X-ray technician lost his job and home, she got him mattresses, pillows and blankets.  One day, she saw an eviction notice on a Chinese-speaking neighbor's door.  She spent a workday having it translated and later left a note under the door, in Chinese, explaining what that neighbor should do.

At least one of my commenters has said that cyclists have a stronger sense of justice than most people.  In my own unbiased view ;-), said commenters are right.  J.A. Lobbia was proof. 

In 2001, at the age of 43, she died of ovarian cancer. She asked to be buried in her favorite dress and bike shoes.

The sign in the photo stands at the intersection of Sixth Avenue and 33rd Street, just a block east of Penn Station and Madison Square Garden.

Cycling In Montreal

Different cities have different "feels" or "vibes".  A musician--Charles Mingus, I believe--once remarked that he could tell, blindfolded, and with his ears plugged, whether he was in San Francisco or New York or Paris or wherever.  

He, or whoever that musician was, also said it was possible to sense the "energy" of a place you're visiting for the first time the moment you step off the plane or train or whatever took you there.  I believe there's something to that:  I recall feeling almost as if I'd developed another sense as I walked through the airport in Istanbul.  Every place I went, whether in the city itself or along the coast or into the Cappadocia countryside, just seemed to pulse with vitality, whether I was marveling at the Blue Mosque, sauntering among the ancient ruins or looking at the almost-otherworldly landsapes--or seeing the mansions along the Bosphrous or the shacks of once-mighty cities whose harbors had silted up.

Likewise, cycling feels different in different cities.  In Boston, it can seem like mano-a-mano combat with drivers; all through Florida (all right, it's not a city, but bear with me), it feels as if you're holding out (I was going to stay "standing your ground", but that seems pretty touchy!) and holding onto pieces of real estate that are miles long and inches wide.  In Prague, you're always climbing or descending a hill, just as I remember San Francisco.  The difference between cycling in Paris and cycling in New York is like the difference between caffeine and Red Bull laced with cocaine:  The former energizes cyclists but doesn't seem to impair their social skills; the latter turns everything into a race--to what, no one seems to know.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, Parisian drivers are courteous and respectful because, I believe, many are--or have recently been--cyclists.  I'm not sure that the bike lanes or Velib made it a more "bike friendly" city, as some have said, although I did see more cyclists on my most recent trip there than I saw on previous trips.  More time elapsed between the Montreal trip I just took and the one before it, but I think it's fair to see that there are more real changes in the city's cycling atmosphere than I've witnessed in any other city.

I certainly saw more cyclists--and, perhaps most important, a wider variety of people cycling--than I did on previous visits.  I rode some routes I'd ridden before and explored areas I'd never before seen.  I was able to do most of my riding on bike paths, although that was not one of my objectives.  I wouldn't say that the paths, which were all but non-existent the last time I was in Montreal, necessarily make cycling safer or even more pleasant than it had been before.  But I have to say that, for the most part, they seem well-planned:  I didn't find myself on "paths to nowhere" or ones that abruptly let cyclists out into dangerous intersections.  

However, I found myself questioning the wisdom of this:

I understand what planners were trying to do:  Provide paths that allow cyclists to ride in an orderly fashion.  And, for whatever reasons, they wanted or had to keep the paths on one side of the street or the other.  The issue wasn't the width of the paths.  One lane in each direction is more or less like one lane in each direction on a road for motorized vehicles:  You follow similar kinds of procedures and etiquette for riding with, behind or in front, of--or passing--other drivers.  It certainly seemed to work well:  I didn't sense conflicts between cyclists over rights-of-way.

On the other hand, there was a problem I found with them:  When you're riding in the right lane, in the opposite direction from the motorized traffic, and you come to an intersection, you have to take extra care, especially if the cross-street is one-way, with the traffic coming from your left.  This is even more true when drivers traveling in the opposite direction on the street your path parallels make right turns.

To be fair, the local cyclists and drivers didn't seem to have any problem.  Perhaps they've grown accustomed to the arrangement.  Were I living in Montreal--or simply cycling there more often--I probably would, too.  

I didn't see any of the confrontations, or any other expressions of hostility, one witnesses--or, perhaps, gets involved in--here in New York.  There seems to be more respect--or, at least, some sort of detente--between motorists and cyclists.  The latter--even the fastest and most competitive ones--come to a full stop at red lights, as do pedestrians. So do the drivers:  They don't try to "gun it" as the light is changing, and there is actually a pause between the light turning green and cars proceeding through it.  In the Big Apple, it seems, drivers have learned how to put their foot on the gas pedal a second or two before the signal changes so their vehicles are in motion even before the light is green.

In brief, the calm atmosphere I experienced while riding in Montreal seems to be a result of people's sense of security about themselves, as motorists and cyclists as well as human beings.  In New York, I am realizing, no matter how well you do, you've only survived the day and, perhaps, survived for another day.  As James Baldwin has noted, when everyone is striving for status, nobody really has any.  Or, as a student of mine remarked last night, "You have to be a shark to survive in this city!"  If that is the case, and Montreal's streets are waterways, one can navigate them as a dolphin.

Plus, you've got to love a place where you can see a sign like this:

I think something was lost in translation.

or a street with a name like this:

Admit it:  You would love to say you live on "Rue Rufus Rockhead"!

just blocks away from this:

In Vieux Montreal, or Old Montreal

or this:

"Farine Five Roses":  I'm not sre of whether it's stranger in French or English!

or where a bridge like the Jacques Cartier would have an underpass like this between the east and west walkways:

 You can't hear the traffic above you, and look at how clean it is!  It was open, even tough the west walkway is closed.

Such a thing never would be built in New York.  (A fair number of bridges, such as the Verrazano Narrows, don't even have bike paths or walkways.)  And if it were, it would always be "closed for repairs", but homeless people or the young and intoxicated would break into it.

All right.  I'll stop whining about what does and doesn't happen in New York and say that Montreal is indeed a fine cycling city.