Let's Hope This "Twist" Isn't Just The Latest Dance Craze

Two and a half years ago, I was "doored" into a potentially-fatal spill.  The reason I survived with a gash that required thirty stitches and torn muscles and ligaments is that traffic stopped just behind me, and a bystander took it upon himself to get water and bandages and to call the police and ambulance.

The driver, to her credit, checked to see whether I was OK and offered help. (Between her driver's and my health insurance, thankfully, it cost me very little.)  And, a few months later, I was nearly doored again on a Sunday afternoon as I pedaled along Metropolitan Avenue in Middle Village--while wearing a high-visibility jacket.  I turned back to yell at the driver, who stated the obvious:  "I wasn't paying attention."  

Other drivers, though, aren't so willing to own up to what they've done.  Even if they open the door as you're next to it, they somehow think it's your responsibility to keep them from dooring you.

Richard Silvester falls somewhere between these two categories of drivers.  Last July, the UK resident had been eating a sausage roll in his car when he opened his door to shake off crumbs.  (I have been the recipient of such morsels, and of showers from motorist dumping their half-finished cups of coffee and bottles of soda.)  Unfortunately for Benjamin Dearman-Baker, Silvester's effort at tidiness sent him tumbling from his bike--which he'd been riding at 20MPH--to the pavement.  

Although endangering or injuring someone by opening a car door is a misdemeanor offense in the UK, it's still a more serious charge than in most US jurisdictions.  Rarer still is the motorist, like Silvester,  actually prosecuted for it.

Silvester claimed to have "looked" before opening his door, but admitted he didn't check the blind spots.  He might have seen Dearman-Baker in one of them had he used the "Dutch Reach," which is now mandatory in the UK and other countries--and versions of it may soon be mandated in New York and other places in America.

The "Dutch Reach," invented in a country that has about the same ratio of bicycles to people as the US has guns to people, is simple:  The driver uses their "far hand" to open the door.  In the UK, where drivers travel on the right side of the road, it is their left hand.  In most other countries, a driver would open their portals right-handed.  Bending in such a way forces drivers to look in those spots immediately behind them, which is where they, more often than not, "don't see" cyclists.

During the past few years, Massachusetts and Illinois have made the "Dutch Reach" part of their drivers' curriculum.  In New York City, where I live, the Department of Transportation is trying to promote it among taxi and service-vehicle drivers as the "New York Twist."

It sounds like a dance.  Let's hope it catches on and it isn't just a temporary "craze," like an earlier "twist."

It’s easy to keep #BikeNYC safe! Do the New York Twist: before exiting a vehicle, twist your opposite arm to open the door, then turn your head behind you to watch for oncoming bikers. You twist one way to put on your seat belt, now twist another to save lives. #VisionZero pic.twitter.com/8tqllsp9P9

— NYC DOT (@NYC_DOT) April 10, 2023

Oh, and for his part, Richard Silvester has been ordered to pay the costs that result from hitting Benjamin Dearman-Baker when he opened his door to shake off the crumbs from his sausage roll.

We Were Doored. It Could Have Been Worse For Him.

Nearly two years ago, I experienced one of a cyclist's worst nightmares:  I was "doored."

At least the woman who opened the door into my path stayed with me as others--including a man who ran across the street to a drugstore for rubbing alcohol and bandages--stayed with me--helped in one way or another.  The woman apologized profusely and called me several times after the incident to see how I was. The worst thing I can say about her is that she was careless.

The same cannot be said for the man who opened his door into the path of Trev Walker.  The British cyclist was pedaling along a road in his native Yorkshire on 2 September when a driver, passing at what appears to be high speed, flung his door into Walker's path, slamming into his left hand.

The incident was recorded for posterity--and the local police--on a camera affixed to the rear of his bike.

Walker is a paramedic, so when he felt pain and saw swelling in his hand, he went for an X-ray.  When the pain didn't subside, he went for another, which revealed a fracture.  He says, "it could have been worse."  But I can just imagine the emotional trauma he might be experiencing:  If he is re-living the incident, it could be worse my reliving my experience because the driver who "doored" him did so deliberately.

But he summed up the seriousness of what happened to him the way I, and others, summed up mine:  Opening a car door on a cyclist could result in someone being killed.

Is “Bulled” Worse Than “Doored?”

The October before last, I suffered the worst nightmare of anyone who cycles in traffic:  I was “doored.”

I ended up with 30 stitches and a lot of aches and pains. Still, it could have been worse.

At least, I imagine getting “bulled” could be even more painful.  And the driver who doored me didn’t run from the scene! 

Recovery, X2

Yesterday I saw an orthopedic doctor.  My muscle strain, though painful, is not serious, he said:  "Take it easy, it'll heal itself."  He took some of the stitches out of my leg and substituted surgical tape.  

I don't know whether he's a cyclist, but he deals a lot with sports injuries.  So he understood when I complained that not cycling--when, it seems, everyone else in the world is turning their pedals and spinning their wheels through streets and paths dusted with red and gold and brown leaves fluttered down from wizening boughs--is driving me totally nuts.  "About two more weeks, if this keeps up," he said about my recovery.  That, to be fair, is a bit more optimistic than what the folks in the Long Island Jewish emergency room told me.  "That makes sense," he said.  "In ERs, they're zealous with their treatment and advice."

Of course, I don't mind now that the ER doctors and nurses were "zealous":  It may be the reason why I'm recovering well, so far.  But, oh, I want to get back on my bike.  And I don't want to gain back the weight I've lost during the last few months!

One irony in all of this is that the day after I got home from the hospital, I got a call from a doctor at the Westchester Medical Center Brain and Spine Center, where I ended up after my June accident.  The bleeding near my brain had cleared up, he said, and the latest images show no residual damage.  But, he admonished me to "be careful" because another impact to my head can magnify the trauma I suffered in the first accident.

"I will," I promised.  I didn't tell him why.

(Thank you to everyone who checked in on me!)

Not Again! Is There A Conspiracy?

I don't believe in curses or conspiracy theories--most of the time.  All right:  When I read about "Vote for Trump or Else" e-mails some voters have received, I have to wonder whether the person/people who sent them saw the "endorsement" in my previous post.

After posting that "Demo-cats" video and doing a few other things, I went for a ride through southeastern Queens and Nassau county to the "Nautical Mile" of Freeport.  I was pedaling back along streets that zigzagged back and forth along the Nassau-Queens border when--bam!--I was knocked to the pavement of Lefferts Boulevard in Elmont.  

I'd just experienced one of cyclists' worst nightmares:  the driver of a parked car opened her door right into my side.  

I watch very carefully for such things, but there was no way to anticipate--or avoid--her action:  I was directly alongside the driver's side door when she opened up.

Instead of pedaling home to feed Marlee and myself, I was carted to Long Island Jewish Medical Center-Valley Stream.  Thirty stitches and three X-rays later, I was sent home.  

This year has been awful in all sorts of ways, from world and national events to personal crises, for almost everybody I know.  In half a century of cycling, I have had two accidents that resulted in my needing medical attention.  I suffered both of them this year, only four months apart.

The doctor said I could be off my bike for anywhere from four to ten weeks, as the gashes were deep and the tissue will take time to recover. (Some of the stitches I needed were internal.)  Although my lower back, knee and shoulder hurt (and still hurt), the X-rays revealed no fractures or spinal damage.   She said I should recover "just fine," but it will "take time."  But she expressed confidence:  "You're tough. And you look great for your age."  The attending nurses agreed.

If I have to wait two and a half months to ride again, that means the rest of this year is gone.  But, if I my recovery goes more quickly, I might be able to salvage some late-fall riding.  

Now, I know logically that the timing of my accident has nothing to do with my endorsement of Donald Trump's opponent.  Or does it?

Where It's Really Hard To Get Out Of The Way

I've ridden the block dozens of times.  And walked it at least as often.

It's less than a kilometer from where I grew up.  Relatives, friends and classmates lived along the streets that crossed it.

Unfortunately, for a 16-year-old boy, it's where his life ended. 


Yisroel Schwartz was riding north on 17th Avenue, a narrow thoroughfare that runs through the heart of Borough Park, a neighborhood that is no as riding north on 17th Avenue, a narrow thoroughfare that runs through the heart of Borough Park, a neighborhood that is now home to one of the world's largest yet most cohesive Hasidic Jewish communities.

Although it's called an "avenue," it's narrower than most streets or roads in other American cities.  And because the Hasidim, who have large families, are among the most car-reliant people in New York City, the avenue is often crowded--even when drivers aren't pulled over to pick up or discharge family members, or simply double-parked. 

Those conditions, unfortunately, make getting "doored" a particular hazard.  That was the last lesson Yisroel Schwartz learned in his brief life.



He saw the door opening and swerved.  But he couldn't avoid it, striking the door and falling to the pavement.

But it gets worse:  While prone, he was struck by an Econoline E350 van that was heading in the same direction.  He suffered severe trauma to his head and body, and was pronounced dead soon after arriving at Maimonides Medical Center, about halfway between that block and my old house.

Both drivers--of he car whose door he struck and the van that struck him--remained at the scene of the accident.  The NYPD are investigating. Knowing that stretch of 17th Avenue--which I probably wouldn't ride if I weren't so familiar with it--I am actually inclined to give the van driver at least,  the benefit of the doubt.  No matter your cycling or driving skills, it's really hard to get out of the way on that stretch of the Avenue, between 53rd and 52nd Streets.

Embracing My Inner Magpie Leads To Englightenment (Or, Being More Informed About Cycling Advocacy, Anyway)

One thing you learn (sometimes, anyway) as you get older is to accept what you are and work with it--or let it work for you.

For a long time, I tried to suppress my inner magpie.  So, yes, I'll admit it:  I like pretty, shiny things, especially if I can recognize my own reflection in them. Then again, given what I've just said, a pretty, shiny thing is something that will, by definition, allow me to recognize my own reflection.  And vice-versa.

OK, enough of these extremely amateurish philosophical ramblings.  I accept that I like looking at pretty,shiny things and it leads me to images like this:

Instead of turning my nose up at this two-wheeled contraption (which is, however you define it, a bicycle), as I might have done not so long ago, I allowed myself to be drawn in by the pretty, shiny lights.  It led me to blog, which also contains this image:

That blog, is the most important find of all: Chicago Bicycle Advocate. I looked at a few posts on either side of the ones containing those photos.  The stories in them are all-too-familiar to urban cyclists:  getting doored (been there, done that!), a police officer who struck a cyclist and lied about it and  a driver who darted in front of a cyclist and tried to blame the cyclist for the ensuing crash.  But there are also inspiring stories, like that of the 13-year-old girl who came up with an idea for a signal system after seeing a man "doored" while she rode with her mother.

In reading those posts, and others, I was impressed by the level of analysis and clarity in discussions of the issues involved with accidents and other incidents involving cyclists.  I am going to subscribe to it, even though I live nowhere near Chicago.

Hooda thunk it:  Embracing my inner magpie has enhanced my understanding of the legal issues around cycling!

Cyclist Fatally Doored In Queens

The stretch of Union Turnpike where a cyclist was struck and killed by a car door

What are the greatest fears of an urban cyclist?

I'd bet that many cyclist would say that getting "doored" is one of them.

It's something we all think about, particularly when we ride between traffic and the parking lane on narrow city streets.  I have been "grazed" or suffered a glancing side-blow from drivers opening their doors.

While my encounters with doors were painful, I escaped with injuries that healed with rest.  However, last night, someone on his way home from work wasn't so lucky.

A 39-year-old lighting technician whose name has not yet been released was riding eastbound on Union Turnpike, a major thoroughfare in central and  eastern Queens.  Although it's not far from where I work, I generally avoid Union Turnpike because it has the worst of two worlds:  highway traffic speeds and a parking lane where cars frequently pull in and out, or weave, as most of the Turnpike is lined with stores.  On the other hand, I can understand why he took the Turnpike, especially if he'd had a long day at work and wanted to get home quickly.  

Anyway, as he was pedaling, a driver opened his door.  The NYPD doesn't suspect any criminality on his part, probably because he remained at the scene after he realized what happened.  But even his action, and the help passerby gave the cyclist, were to no avail.  According to one eyewitness,  who said the Lord's Prayer over the victim, "The handlebar went right through his jugular" and "The blood was pouring out like a fire hydrant."  


According to Section 1214 (pdf) of New York State Vehicle And Traffic  Law, which regulates the opening and closing of vehicle doors:

No person shall open the door of a motor vehicle on the side available to moving traffic unless and until it is reasonably safe to do so, and can be done without interfering with the movement of other traffic, nor shall any person leave a door open on the side of the vehicle available to moving traffic for a period of time longer than necessary to load or unload passengers.

As police suspect no criminality on the part of the driver, they most likely believe he was acting in accordance with the above rule. I have posted it here, in case you live in New York and are involved in a "dooring" case in which you believe the driver was careless or had malicious intent.

Losing the Lanes

Last night, about two blocks from the end of my commute home, a van pulled up alongside me.  The passenger side window rolled down.  My heart was starting to pump:  I was only two blocks from my apartment, but I was ready to pedal just about anywhere else.  The light turned green and, just as I was ready to thrust my left pedal down, a man's voice rasped, "Hey, sexy.  Why doesn't a beautiful lady like you use the bike lane?"


Now, that was one of the stranger things I've heard on my bike.  But he's probably not the first to have asked the question, and I'm not the first cyclist to have heard it.  But, if I were to meet that guy again (not that I'd want to!), I'd show him this:

It's one of those photos I wish I'd taken, but not because it would establish me as the next Eugene Atget. Rather, it shows all too clearly one of the reasons I normally don't use bike lanes. 


Now, if it were only a matter of cars being parked, I could ride around them.  But parked cars mean people getting in and out and, in some cases, not watching where they open doors.  I learned a painful lesson in that about this time last year.  At least I lived to laugh about it, once the pain subsided.  Other cyclists, though, haven't been so fortunate.


The photo came from a website I just found:  My Bike Lane, which is devoted entirely to bike lane violatons. In addition to photos, the license plate numbers of the most frequent offenders are posted.  


Thanks to "Greg" for creating and maintaining the site.