Why Do They—And We—Break Traffic Laws?

For a time, I belonged to a church that propagated the belief that we inevitably sin because we are innately sinners. I wondered whether that logic applies to secular law: Do we break laws because we are inherently criminals?

Although I believe the answer is “no,” I can understand why some people would think otherwise. At least one study indicates that the average person breaks a law every day. As often as not, the offenses are unintentional. But why do otherwise upstanding citizens have, shall we say, moments when they don’t play by one rule or another?

The answer, I guess, is that it depends on the situation, which rule or regulation is being flouted or ignored, and why.  An Idaho (Now you know where this is going if you’ve been reading my blog regularly!) survey of road users indicates as much.

According to that survey, 95.9 percent of cyclists reported breaking a traffic law. That is only slightly less than the 97.9 percent of pedestrians and 99.97 percent of drivers who admitted to doing the same.

What distinguishes cyclists from pedestrians and motorists, however, are their motivations for law-breaking. While 85 percent of drivers and 71 percent of foot-travelers said they broke or ignored traffic regulations to save time, 71 percent of bicycle riders said they skirted a rule for their own safety.

That statistic is part of an argument advocates in California and other states are making for the adoption of the so-called Idaho Stop. Since 1982, the Gem State has allowed cyclists to proceed through a “Stop” sign if there is no cross-traffic at the intersection.  Since then, a number of states and other jurisdictions in the US and Europe have adopted it or similar policies.

Photo by Melanie Curry for Streetsblog CA

Studies indicate that allowing cyclists to, in essence, treat a “stop” sign as a “yield” sign has a somewhat positive or, at worst, neutral effect on safety for cyclists, pedestrians and motorists. 

Authors of those studies, however, also recommend that instruction about the “Idaho Stop” and its benefits be included in driver’s education courses and manuals. The reason for that is simple: In spite of those studies—and testimonies from cyclists like me—many drivers and law enforcement officers believe that the “Idaho Stop” leads to reckless, lawless cycling. As any cyclist can tell you, proceeding through an intersection ahead of traffic flowing in the same direction is safer for everyone involved, assuming there is no cross traffic. For one thing, it all but eliminates the chance that a cyclist will be hit by a right-turning vehicle and greatly reduces the risk of being struck from behind or by oncoming drivers making a left turn. It also reduces the likelihood of a cyclist striking a pedestrian.

Most of the jurisdictions that have legalized the “Idaho Stop” or similar legislation did so during the half-decade or so before the COVID-19 pandemic. Since then, attempts to enshrine it in California, my home state of New York and other places have been stalled or halted largely because of panic about eBike safety. That concern grew in part because of electric motorcycles illegally sold as eBikes (which, in most cities and states, don’t require permits or licenses) and because the use of legal and illegal machines grew exponentially as delivery-app services swelled in popularity. Consumers demand fast deliveries; app companies make delivery workers, most of whom are immigrants, work under unrealistic time frames. 

The result?  Delivery workers who run red lights and ignore traffic signs —so that Buffy and Dane can get their sushi in ten minutes. And cyclists like me have to break a rule or two to keep from getting hit by them.

It’s Ours, Too

 Once, a driver’s tirade against me included the rant, “I pay road taxes!”

As calmly as I could, I responded, “Well, I do too.” I then pointed out that the only tax he pays, and I don’t, is on gasoline.

Had I been a different sort of person, this might’ve been my response:

Using A Bike Lane To Avoid A “Brick”

 I don’t drive. So I am basing this assumption on being an (infrequent) passenger and (more frequent) observer:  When drivers are lost or confused, or detect malfunctions (in their cars or passengers), they pull over in the nearest place that looks safe.

That is, if the driver is human.  If the car’s driver is itself (Does that sound creepy or what?), it won’t pull over.  And, if it’s lost or confused, it won’t go to a therapist or spiritual counselor.

Rather, it will “brick.” No, it won’t build a wall—at least not literally. (Even Donald Trump and Greg Abbot have difficulty doing that!) Rather, said non-human driver will stop dead wherever it happens to be—even in the middle of an intersection.  

In San Francisco, which probably is denser with ride-sharing services and autonomous vehicles than any other city, Waymo and Cruise self-driving cars accounted for 215 crashes during the first four months of this year.

I could not find reports of injuries caused by those collisions.  The city’s transportation authority says that self-driving vehicles “will improve safety” but admits that the technology “isn’t fully developed yet.” One commenter wonders whether the city can “end this experiment now” or “does someone need to be killed first?”

He posted a video that illustrated his concerns:  a number of human drivers steered into the Valencia Street bike lane, in the city’s Mission district, to avoid a self-driving Waymo vehicle that “bricked.”

Twofer! Let's take a look at how well the posts are working on Valencia @SFMTA_Muni. Can we end this experiment now or does someone need to be killed first? Also did @waymo report this incident to @californiapuc? pic.twitter.com/BSBvYUw5HK

— Andy (@Shenanigans_ATL) August 7, 2023

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?  

 

Driver Rolls Coal, Cyclists Treated Like Invasive Species

A recent incident has cyclists "arguing that consequence-free way to kill someone in Texas is to do it with a car."  

So wrote Dug Begley in yesterday's Houston Chronicle.  He was referring to the inaction of law enforcement officials against a 16-year-old who "rolled coal"--accelerated and passed a group of cyclists in order to blow black exhaust on them--then whipped around and plowed into another group of riders, injuring six of them.

The driver stopped and talked to police, but it's clear that his actions were intended to at least intimidate, and at worst to maim or kill, cyclists.  He cannot plausibly claim he "didn't see them," as Begley describes the road as "ramrod straight" and the weather was sunny, with scarcely a cloud anywhere, on Saturday morning when he struck.

Cyclists on the Bluebonnet Express Ride in 2012, near the site where a young man plowed into a group of cyclists on Saturday.  Photo by Patric Schneider

While other jurisdictions are starting to take incidents against cyclists more seriously, BikeHouston executive director Joe Cutrufo says that cyclists in his area are "treated like an invasive species" when, in fact, we "have every right to use the roads."

I hope that Waller County police and prosecutors acknowledge as much, and to treat the driver as someone who committed assault with a deadly weapon.

Worse Than Getting "Doored"

I know I could've been hurt even worse than I was when I was "doored" last week.  That should make me grateful, or at least feel better, I suppose. 

So should the knowledge that she had no intention of hurting me:  Had she not opened the door of her 2015 Toyota into my side, we probably wouldn't have interacted in any way at all.  If she'd noticed me at all, I would have been just another cyclist.

I guess that knowledge should make me feel a little better, but it doesn't.  If anything, it's just as disturbing, to me, as the knowledge of what happened to Michelle Marie Weissman in Las Vegas on Sunday.

The 56-year-old was pedaling down south on the Hollywood Boulevard bike lane around 7:30 that morning.  As she passed a couple strolling on the adjacent sidewalk, she greeted them: "Good morning."

At that moment, a 22-year-old,  identified as Rodrigo Cruz, drove a 2015 Toyota Sienna van"50 to 60 miles an hour, according to his own admission. He was racing other drivers, he said.  

For reasons he hasn't explained, he swerved into the bike lane.  His passenger, identified only as "Gio", leaned from the windowsill in an attempt to strike the couple.

He missed. But a little further down, he shoved Weissman to the ground.  She wore a helmet, but it wasn't enough--probably, nothing would have been--to save her from the impact of being pushed to the pavement by a guy in a speeding van.  Witnesses tried to give her CPR, but that wasn't enough, either, to save her life.

Michelle Marie Weissman (l) and Rodrigo Cruz

In school, we all learn Newton's Third Law of Motion:  For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.  One thing "Gio" probably thought about was that he wasn't exempt from that law:  The momentum of his hitting her pushed him backward, out of the Sienna's windowsill, and onto the pavement.  He met the same fate as Ms. Weissman.

Cruz fled the scene but, based on information from witnesses---including three women who'd been following the van in a gold Ford Focus before the incident--tracked him and the Sienna down.  He initially denied he'd been driving the van but finally admitted that he didn't go back to check on "Gio" because he was "scared."

He had good reason to be.  He's being held without bail, not only for murder and leaving the scene of an accident, but for a parole violation.

Of course, none of this does Michelle Marie Weissman any good.  But at least if he is charged with murder, it will be good to know that the authorities, somewhere, have taken serious action against someone who turned his vehicle into a deadly weapon against a cyclist.

Now Drivers Can Cross The Line, And Cyclists Are Happy About It

Whenever I visit my parents in Florida, I get out and ride at least once.

Some rides--such as those along Route A1A, which rims the Atlantic Ocean--are beautiful and peaceful.  The calm is occasionally interrupted by traffic in popular beach towns like Flagler and Ormond Beaches, but for the most part, it's pretty orderly and no driver has done anything hostile or dangerous toward me.  Some, I suspect, may be cyclists, but the others just seemed like people who are relaxed and enjoying themselves, or simply courteous.

When I head inland from my parents' house, though, things change.  There, I find myself riding through wooded areas and swamps, or along rivers and creeks.  Those rides are also pleasant and enjoyable, but riding the one-, two- or even four-lane roads toward the Sunshine State's interior is a different experiences.  Although one encounters less traffic--on some roads, you can go for an hour or more without encountering a motor vehicle--the way drivers interact with me is very different.

On such roads, drivers leave less room when passing.  To be fair, many of those roads are very narrow.  But some drivers, it seems, just don't want to deviate even in the slightest from their path.  Or, perhaps, they are not cyclists and are therefore unaccustomed to us.  Indeed, I might be the only cyclist they see that day.  

I've also had drivers tail me even though they could easily pass me.  Then they would bang their horns in frustration and make a sudden swerve around me, affording me only a berth thinner than Benotto handlebar tape.

Then there were those who simply roar down the road as fast as the laws of physics will allow, stirring up whirlwinds of pebbles and dirt and wakes of rustling reeds and mussed-up hair.  They, perhaps, are the most disconcerting drivers of all.

From CBS North Carolina

I have never cycled in North Carolina, but I imagine that all of the scenarios I've described are pretty common.  Cyclists there have long  complained about cars and trucks passing close enough to "take the skin off the back of your hand", as more than one cyclist put it. Another cyclist, Randall Bennett, recalls his arm being clipped by the mirror of a passing car.

Apparently, a section of North Carolina traffic code all but mandated such behavior.  Until the beginning of this month, it was illegal for a driver in the Tar Heel State to cross over the center line to pass a cyclist.  Also, a driver was required to give a berth of only two feet to a cyclist he or she passed.

On the first of this month, changes that were made to House Bill 959 of the State Legislature went into effect.  As a result, it's now legal for a driver to cross over the center line to pass a cyclist, as long as there's an assured clear distance ahead and no oncoming traffic.  Also, drivers have to give cyclists more room--four feet instead of two--when passing.

From what I've read, it seems that both cyclists and drivers are happy with the change:  Cyclists say that it makes conditions safer for them; drivers say the same thing and that it makes them less worried about incurring fines.

Let's hope that, down the road (pun intended), both sides see the results of the new law as a win-win situation.

Wearing Your Message On Your Sleeve (Or On Your Chest And Back, Anyway)

I stopped wearing bike-specific clothing (except for gloves and helmets) years ago.  I just might start again, at least in response to folks like Peter King and Heath Evans.

Actually, I would have a whole wardrobe of cycling tops.   For rides in which the possibility of encountering homicidal drivers is relatively low, I might wear this:

For times when there's a greater chance of a brush with a drunk or simply inconsiderate motorist--I could slip into this:

On days (or nights) when there might be more careless drivers--and there is a chance that one might be somewhat homicidal--I could sport this:

Finally, when it seems every other person behind a steering wheel has regressed to the emotional age of twelve, this just might set the right tone:

These jerseys are on Active.com.

See How They Run: Choosing Your Fuel

Are you trying to convince someone (yourself?) to cycle rather than drive to work or school or wherever?

If you are, this might make your job a little easier:

A Crash By Any Other Name

This happened at a bicycle race in Matamoros, Mexico on 1 June 2008. One cyclist was killed.  Ironically, "Matamoros" means "Kill Moors" in Spanish.  (From VeloWorld)

A few years ago, a man used his SUV to run over five people on Long Island after getting into a fight with one of them.  He fled the scene of the accident.

Tell me:  What's wrong with the above passage?

It's in the last word:  accident.  The last time I checked my Oxford English Dictionary, none of the definitions of the word "accident" included intention, volition or causality.  Perhaps I should look again, just in case my memory is getting fuzzy.

Yet no less than the New York Times--and, presumably, the Nassau County Police Department-- used that word to characterize the incident.

Now, you might say that my perceptions are colored (clouded?) by being a writer and English instructor. Still, I contend that words are powerful, and the ones that are chosen shape the way people perceive whatever is being described.  And people's responses, or lack of them, are a result of their perceptions.

The Long Island man's use of his SUV as a weapon of mass destruction certainly wasn't the first--and probably won't be the last--time such an incident is referred to as an "accident."  It's also not the only kind of non-random collision that has been, or will be, so misnamed.

About two years before the Long Island incident, rapper Foxy Brown is said to have hit two cyclists on West Houston Street in Manhattan.  She originally claimed that her former friend, Ayesha Quattara, was at the wheel, but the testimony of the cyclists who were hit--and Quattara--indicated that the rapper (who is said to be losing her hearing) was the real culprit.  Quattara and the cyclists also said that Brown yelled, "Get out of my way, you dumb white faggots!"

That incident was also listed as an accident (and her friends claimed that she is neither a racist nor a homophobe).  Now, she probably didn't intend to run them down.  However, Brown herself admitted she was agitated as she was racing from one Louis Vuitton store to another before it closed.  So the incident can't be called an "accident" that "happened."

Calling such incidents "accidents", by implication, lessens the culpability of the drivers involved.  It also, I think, causes detectives and others charged with investigating such incidents to think that they are simply terrible fates that could not have been avoided.  I can't help but to believe that anyone who thinks that way will take their investigations less seriously and, perhaps, to be less diligent in them.  

On the other hand, if such incidents were classified as (attempted) homicides or negligence, the cops would be right on them.  Even classifying what Foxy Brown or her friend did as a hate crime would have gotten it more attention than it got as an "accident".

Why Aren't You Riding In The Bike Lane?

The other day, I was riding along 21st Avenue in East Elmhurst.  A driver made a careless turn in front of me.  I yelled a few things not allowed in PG-rated movies and flashed the one-fingered peace sign.


The driver--a woman a few years younger than me--rolled down her window.  "You shouldn't be riding here," she yelled.  "You should be on the bike lane."


"There's none here," I shouted.

"Well, there's one on 20th Avenue."



"But it won't take me to where I'm going."

"You still should use it."


"Would you drive along a street that doesn't take you where you want to go?"


She then started to lecture me about how riding on a bike lane is safer than riding on a street.  Mustering all of the patience I could gather within myself, I explained that bike lanes can be more dangerous than the streets for cyclists.   "Some drivers seem to think the bike lanes are for passing or double-parking."  


Her eyes widened.  "I don't do those things!"



"I wasn't accusing you. I said some drivers do them. "  I was about to tell her that I have been "doored" twice, and on both occasions I was riding in a bike lane.  But she had to go somewhere, so that debate didn't come to pass.


Afterward, it occured to me that her misconceptions about bicycle safety are considered "common knowledge" and guide the decisions of too many urban planners.  That is the reason why so many bike lanes are poorly-conceived and -constructed, and people like the driver I confronted simply cannot understand why we don' t use them.