Will He Lose The Election Along With His Bike?

 When I first became a dedicated cyclist, a brochure--distributed by Schwinn, if I recall correctly--exhorted us to lock our bikes if we were leaving them alone "even for a minute."

Good advice, that was--and is.  In fact, Rick Shone proved that it's doubly true--literally--today.

As part of his campaign to become Mayor of Winnipeg, Canada, he announced a cycling infrastructure plan that aims to, among other things, reduce bike theft.

Less than 90 minutes later, he drove his pickup truck at The Wilderness Supply, a store he owns, to talk to an employee.  He left his orange Rossin, converted into an urban single-speed in the back.  Two minutes later he returned. 

Guess what happened during those 120 seconds.

"I feel so stupid," he lamented.  He explained that he was "distracted by a question," which caused him to leave his truck and bike longer than he'd anticipated.

Of course, I hope he gets his bike back.  But I have to wonder whether that theft makes him look like a person of poor judgment and will hinder his candidacy--or whether it will underscore an issue to which he's bringing attention.

In short, will people be more or less likely to vote for him because he lost his bike through, as he admits, his own neglect?

We Need To Be Counted Because We Count

One of the reasons why underserved communities are underserved is that the folks who decide, for example, where to build schools or run bus lines don't know how many people are in those communities--or even that those communities exist.  Some of that has to do with members of those communities not making themselves know--for example, by not filling out census forms, for whatever reasons.  There is also a matter of the biases of the data-gatherers:  Some don't want to recognize members of such communities, but more often, they simply don't know where to look for them or how to count them.

So it is with cyclists.  While many American cities have found effective ways to gauge motor vehicle traffic, whether through "car counters" or other means, almost none have done even a rudimentary, let alone an accurate, count of bicyclists.  Worse yet, when we are counted, those tallies don't reflect where, when or for what purposes we ride. As an example, counts taken on bike lanes in central areas of cities will find commuters, while tallies taken on bike lanes leading out of those neighborhoods will find more recreational cyclists.  And if a bike census, if you will, depends on counts from bike share docking stations, yet another type of rider will be found.

A subtle bike counter. Photo by Christopher Porter,.

The problem is that jurisdictions that bother to count cyclists tend to use only one method to record riders.  The most common is volunteers stationed, with a clipboard and pen, in places where significant numbers of people ride.  I once was such a volunteer, for a day,  with Transportation Alternatives:  I stood on the Manhattan side of the Queensborough-59th Street Bridge and counted the cyclists and pedestrians (this was before motor scooters became popular)  descending from its ramp to First Avenue.  As diligent as I was, I am sure I missed riders or pedestrians.  Even if my count were completely accurate, I had to wonder how useful it would have been for anything but deciding whether to widen the bike lane--which would never happen.

As Kea Wilson points out in a recent Streetsblog article, cities need not only to start counting cyclists; they also need to employ a number of methods, including devices like the "car counters" many already employ and data from sources like Strava and even cell phone data. Although they, together, won't count 100 percent of riders --sometimes mechanical and electronic counters stop working or, if they're programmed to detect a certain level of speed, miss a cyclist who's riding faster than a bus-- they will do much to make us less under-countednand, more important, mis-counted, than we are now.  

Perhaps even more important, though, is a thoughtful analysis of the data collected.  Why are cyclists riding (or not)  where they're riding (or not)? Are they riding on one street rather than another, or instead of a nearby bike lane?  What are some of our common destinations?  Also, if a "census" is to be useful in improving bike safety, it needs to help in determining where crashes and injuries are most likely to occur.

Until cities and other jurisdictions start to make accurate counts of cyclists and assesments of how, where and why people ride (or don't), they won't build bicycle infrastructure or will continue to build more of the  poorly-designed, -constructed and -maintained bike lanes we too often see.

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.

A Girl Scout Makes Her Town Safe(r) For Cycling

 It's funny to think that I, a transgender woman, was once a Boy Scout (and altar boy).  I joined the Scouts, in part, to try to quell the nagging doubts  about my gender identity.  Although that part of the plan didn't work out, there were things I liked about Scouting.  Among them were the fact that it recognize, and even reward (via merit badges) for doing things I would have done anyway.  So I earned merit badges for reading (!) and cycling.

The requirements for the badge weren't terribly rigorous: a few rides of increasing length, knowledge of hand signals and the ability to fix a flat tire.  I certainly didn't have to do anything as original as Jordan Brown has done.

Jordan Brown

In addition to cycling and scouting (in her case, Girl Scouts), she and I have this in common: Middletown, and its high school, where she is a ninth-grader.

Her Middletown, though, is in Rhode Island. Mine  was in New Jersey. (What US state doesn't have a Middletown?) Oh, and hers is still called Middletown High, whereas mine became Middletown North when a second high school opened just after I graduated.

But I digress.  To earn the Silver Award, a Girl Scout must complete an in-depth project in which she identifies a need or issue in her community (whether local, state, national or international), researches it and plans a project to address the issue or need at its root cause.  It requires a minimum of 50 leadership hours to implement and includes requirements that the project can be sustained beyond the girl who creates it.  The project has to be proposed to, and approved by, an awards committee at the regional organization: in Jordan's case, the Girl Scouts of Southeastern New England (GSSNE).

As often as not, a need is identified through personal experience.  Ms. Brown's discerned the need to educate members of her community about bicycle safety after seeing a friend, who wasn't wearing a helmet, take a major fall on a bicycle.  As a result, she had planned to conduct six weeks of after-school programs, in partnership with Bike Newport, about bike safety and knowledge in Middletown's two elementary schools.

Those programs were to take place in March and April.  Brown had also planned to conduct a community event during the summer.  The COVID-19 pandemic, however, rendered those plans undoable as all of Rhode Island's schools closed from March onward and restrictions were still in place during the summer.

The initiative she took should be reason enough to give her the Silver, and Gold Awards, as well as any number of other accolades.  She embarked on an alternative project that she divided in two parts. The first involved the purchase and installation of two bike repair stations in Middletown:  one at the public library, the other at the Gaudet Middle School.  To fund the $2600 cost of those stations, she held two car washes (which netted $1200), requested and received funds from the Middletown Town Council and received private community donations.

To see this part of her project to completion, she worked with the Town Council,  facilities departments of the schools, superintendent of Middletown Public Schools, principal of Gaudet, town administrator and library director--in addition to Girl Scout representatives and local mentors and advisors.

The second part of Brown's project was educational.  Reaching out to her local community wasn't possible during the pandemic.  So, she created a Girl Scout Patch program based on safety and the history and social implications of the bicycle.  The patch program has been offered through GSSNE and Girl Scout Facebook groups throughout the country.  

On top of everything, Jordan designed the patch, of which 300 were originally produced and given, free of charge, to the first 300 girls who completed the program.  So successful was the program that Brown had to have another 500 patches made. 

Everything she did would have been impressive if an adult experienced in teaching, business or community organizing had done it.  That it was accomplished by a first-year high school student means that we'll hear more from, and about Jordan Brown.  I hope she gets to tout her accomplishments from the saddle of her bicycle!