Bike Lane Mayhem: Just Don't Yell At The Cops.

I ride the bike lane on Crescent Street in Astoria only because it passes directly in front of my apartment--and I use it only to get home or to a street that will take me wherever I'm going.  

In that sense, the Crescent Street lane is actually better than some:  It not only takes me to my apartment; it also provides a direct connection between two major bridges with bike lanes: the Triborough/RFK and Queensborough/59th Street.  

For a while, I was crossing the Triborough almost every day to work, and often use it for rides to points north, including Connecticut.  But I take the Queensborough/59th Street only if I'm going to someplace within a few blocks of the Manhattan side.  If I'm going to Midtown or downtown Manhattan, I prefer to pedal into Brooklyn and cross the Williamsburg or Manhattan Bridges.  

The reason I like those bridges better is that the bike lanes are relatively wide and accessible.  The Queensborough/59th Street Bridge, on the other hand, is--like the Crescent Street lane--narrow.  How narrow?  Well, I've come within a chain link width of brushing, or being brushed by, cyclists traveling in the opposite direction.  

That problem has been exacerbated by motorized bikes and scooters.  I was under the impression that they're supposed to be limited to a maximum speed of 40 kph (about 25 mph).  But I've seen more than a few that were traveling well above that speed.  And I have seen many more of them than cyclists run red lights, make careless turns and sideswipe cyclists and pedestrians.  

Photo by Scott Gries--Getty Images

I know I'm not the only one who's noticed.  Christopher Ketcham said as much yesterday, in a New York Daily News guest editorial.  He also points out something I've mentioned:  It's illegal to operate those motorized vehicles in bike lanes.  People do it; they endanger others; cops see it and do nothing.

Ketcham described such a scenario of which he had to be a part.  Someone riding a motorized bike nearly knocked him off his bike on the Manhattan Bridge Lane.  When he stopped to complain to the cops sitting on the complain to two cops stationed on the Manhattan side, one of them said, "We're here for the bikes."

So that officer admitted what many of us know:  the police come after us because we're easy prey--and because, as former Transportation Alternatives head Charlie Komanoff said, "Cycling is everything cops are acculturated to despise:  urban, improvisatory and joyous rather than suburban, rulebook and buttoned-up."  I have noticed the hostility he and Ketcham describe even in cops who patrol on bicycles: I suspect that none of them ride when they're off the clock.

Some might say that Ketcham, Komanoff and I are paranoid or "not seeing the whole picture."  Well, if we can't see from the proverbial 30,000 feet, we certainly can look through the wide-angle lens of statistics:  In 2019, the NYPD handed cyclists 35,000 tickets for all sorts of infractions, from not having bells (more about that in a moment) to running red lights (even when, as I have described, crossing at the red light is safer for the cyclist and drivers). Truck drivers received 400 fewer tickets, although there are ten times as many trucks as bicycles on New York City streets.

When Ketcham complained to the cops at the foot of the Manhattan Bridge, they gave him a $98 ticket--for not having a bell and, allegedly, for yelling at the officers, according to the "Description/Narrative" portion of the ticket.  

I wonder how many folks driving motorized bikes were ticketed for riding illegally in bike lanes (or on sidewalks), sideswiping cyclists and pedestrians--or yelling at police officers.

 

Safe Passing In The Garden State

During the past few years, a number of jurisdictions have passed laws with the ostensible purpose of promoting cycling safety.  Some, like the “Idaho Stop” and its variants, make all kinds of sense. Others don’t. Still others are well-intentioned and could work.

In that latter category is a law New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy signed yesterday.  It, and others like it, are commonly called “safe passing” laws. 

The Garden State version is more detailed than most.  It not only stipulates that, when passing, drivers move over one lane if a lane is available.  If it’s not, drivers must give a four-foot berth.  If that’s not possible, drivers must slow down to 25 MPH.

Moreover, those mandates apply when motorists are passing, not only cyclists, but also pedestrians, scooters and wheelchairs.

Patrick Conklin, President of Jersey City nonprofit advocacy group Bike JC, says that a “great benefit” of the law is that it “not only tells drivers how and when they should pass” but also “when they shouldn’t.”  Another result is that it “carves out a space for cycling as transportation,” even on “roads with high car traffic, which are often the most direct routes.”

Conlon is pointing to one of the barriers, for many people, to cycling for transportation:  a safe and direct way to pedal to work.

That is not only a problem for urban millennials:  In rural areas (Yes, New Jersey has them:  I know;

I’ve cycled them!), the direct route is sometimes the only route.  Also, many rural and even suburban roads don’t have sidewalks, let alone bike lanes. People are therefore forced to ride their bikes—or walk—or navigate their motorized wheelchairs—on the road.

I think the new New Jersey law is a good step towards promoting human-powered transportation.  My hope, naive as it may be, is that drivers’ consciousness keeps pace and doesn’t lead to hostility, as the construction of bike lanes has here in New York, the Garden State’s neighbor.

Passing, From Old Dominion To The Peach State

'Tis the season.

It seems that many new laws take effect on 1 July.  It may have to do with the fact that in many jurisdictions, the fiscal and legislative years begin on the first of July and run until 30 June.

A few days ago, I mentioned that new cycling-related laws took effect in Virginia on the first.  Turns out, a new set of bicycle safety regulations also commenced on the same day.  Interestingly, one of those mandates is very similar to one that just took effect in the Old Dominion.

As I mentioned in Tuesday's post, Virginia drivers are now required to change lanes when passing cyclists unless the lane is very wide.  Motorists in Georgia now have the same requirement as long as it's safe and legal to chage lanes.  The Peach State added another stipulation:  If it's not safe or legal to change lanes, the driver must slow down to 10 MPH below the speed limit or 25 MPH, whichever is higher.

Furthermore, Georgia drivers must allow three feet between their vehicles and cyclists they pass.  The "three-foot rule," which some other states and jurisdictions have, now applies in all situations when a motorist passes a cyclist. Previously, the "three foot rule" applied only when it was "feasible."

I will repeat the same observation and comment I made on Virginia's law. I haven't cycled in Georgia, but I suspect that riding there has some similiarties with Florida, where I've done a fair amount of cycling. Specifically, I suspect that it's more auto-centric than, say, New York and that in rural and even suburban areas, there might be only one road--a state or county highway--between where someone lives and works or shops.  Sometimes cyclists simply have no choice but to ride alongside two-ton hunks of metal zipping along at 50 MPH.  So, I think the new law is a good idea, as long as it's observed and enforced.

The Idaho Stop: Coming To A State Near You?

Nearly four decades ago--in 1982, to be exact--the state of Idaho passed what might be the single most intelligent and common-sensical piece of legislation ever made in the United States.  In my opinion, it does more to make cycling safer--especially for women--and, I believe, enjoyable than all of the "cycling infrastructure" that's been built in this country.

I am referring to what has come to be known as the "Idaho stop."  In effect, it allows cyclists to treat red lights as "Stop" signs and "Stop" signs as yield signs.  If there is no cross-traffic, cyclists are free to proceed through the intersection, even if the light is red.

The effect of such a law is something I argued with a cop who ticketed me:  It's safer to get out in front of traffic that's traveling in the same direction as you are, especially if that traffic includes trucks or buses.  In waiting for the light to turn green, you run the risk of getting clipped by a right-turning vehicle.

It would be more than three decades before any other US state adopted similar laws, although a few Colorado municipalities did so.  In Paris, France, cyclists can treat designated red lights (which are marked) as "Yield" (cedez le passage) signs as long as they are making right turns or proceeding straight through T-shaped intersections.

From Streetsblog

Now one of Idaho's neighbors, Utah, will join two other Gem State neighbors (Oregon and Washington) in implementing the "Idaho stop."  On 5 May, North Dakota will join them.  Delaware and Arkansas also have similar laws.

I hope that my home state, New York, will become part of the Enlightenment. (Hey, I couldn't resist that one, after mentioning Paris!)  And I hope other the rest of the country will follow.  Idaho d'abord, puis le monde?

 

His Research Confirms It

Two weeks ago, I wrote "Are Helmets An Issue of Racial and Economic Justice?"  In it, I described a perhaps-unintentional consequence of laws mandating helmets:  Black, Hispanic and Native American cyclists are far more likely to be ticketed for infractions than White or Asian cyclists.  That begs the question of whether non-white or -Asian cyclists are less likely to wear helmets and of why some don't wear them.

One answer to the latter question is economics:  Nonwhite cyclists are more likely to be poor, or even homeless, and riding bikes they bought for very little, inherited or rescued from a dumpster.  People don't buy a helmet if they can't, or can just barely, afford a bike.

Cyclist pedals by the Suzzallo Library (Photo by Nicole Pasia)

But the question of whether some groups of people are less compliant than others is still open.  Ethan C. Campbell might have an answer--or, at least a reason for a non-answer.

He is a doctoral student at the University of Washington and a member of advocacy group Central Seattle Greenways.  As part of his research, he has been working on an infractions analysis of tickets issued to Seattle cyclists from 2003 to 2020.  So far, he's learned that Black cyclists were cited for helmet-related infractions at 3.8 times the rate of White cyclists.  For Native American and Alaska Native cyclists, that rate is 2.2 times.  On the other hand, Asian and Pacific Islander cyclists were cited at only 10 percent of White cyclists.  

(I could find no mention of Hispanic cyclists.  Perhaps they are not as statistically significant as they are in cities like New York.  From what I've heard and read, Native Americans and Alaska Natives are a larger percentage of the population than they are in other US cities.)

To be fair, the disparities are more egregious in other cities:  In Washington, DC, for example, Black cyclists were almost ten times as likely to be stopped as White cyclists, while that ratio in Oakland, CA is five times.  

While Campbell's findings are important, he admits there are two significant problems in compiling and analyzing them.  First of all, it's difficult, without someone sitting on a corner with a counter, to gauge each demographic group's share of bike trips in Seattle.  (And, I might add, some people's racial and ethnic heritage is not easily idenitifiable.)  For another, says Campbell, "we don't know the demographic of who wears a helmet."  In other words, does the fact that certain groups of people are cited for violating a law actually mean that they are more likely to violate said law.

(Memories of my youth--which, I admit might be a bit hazy (ha, ha) give me an answer of "NO!":  While the white students I knew in college were more likely to smoke weed, black "townies" were more likely to be busted for it!)

Even with those questions, Campbell's research confirms that if you're Black or Native American or Alaska Native in the Seattle area, you're more likely to get a ticket for not wearing a helmet.  That reflects realities in other parts of the US, some of which I've witnessed:  Almost everyone who's cited for riding on a sidewalk in New York City is non-White or -Asian. 

And, of course, Black, Hispanic, Native American and Alaska Natives are less able to pay for the tickets they receive--which leads to all sorts of other inequalities.

Are Helmets An Issue Of Racial And Economic Justice?

 Four decades after helmet-wearing became widespread among cyclists, at least here in the US, helmet laws and regulations remain controversial.  Medical experts are all but unanimous in recommending helmets, citing their efficacy in preventing brain injury (something to which I can attest).  So, most doctors and surgeons favor requirements to wear head protection.

On the other hand, not all cyclists favor such regulations. I admit that sometimes I miss the wind through my hair, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way.  But I want to keep on riding, so I am willing to sacrifice that to keep my brain intact. And, as much as I respect this country's Constitution, with all of its flaws, I don't buy civil libertarian arguments against helmet laws--which some cyclists voiced years ago but I rarely hear anymore. (That, of course, may be a consequence of where I live and the people I normally see.)  Still, I am conflicted about helmet laws.  I certainly encourage cyclists to wear helmets, but I also understand that laws have unintended consequences.

One such outcome has played out in the Seattle area.  In a way, as upsetting as it is, it shouldn't come as a surprise because it's a result of a pernicious, pervasive problem:  the unequal enforcement of the law. 

If you are, or are perceived as, a member of any "minority" group, whether by race, gender identity or expression, sexual orientation, or socio-economic class, you are more likely to be cited for minor infractions--or for no infraction at all--than other people are.  (Yes, it's happened to me.)  Turns out, one such minor infraction can be riding bareheaded in places with helmet laws.   And, if you are a member of a "minority" group, that citation for a minor infraction is more likely to turn into a major fine or even a jail sentence, just as a cut is more likely to turn into an infection or something more serious if you don't have the means to treat it.

The key word here is "means."  "Folks aren't riding around without helmets because it's fun," according to Edwin Lindo.  "They're doing it because helmets aren't cheap."  Lindo, who identifies as Central American Indigenous, started the NorthStar Cycling Club to support Indigenous, Black and other cyclists of color in the Seattle area.  He was referring to Seattle Municipal Court statistics showing that while an estimated 4.7 percent of the city's cyclists are Black, they receive 17.3 percent of the summonses for not wearing helmets.  For Native American and Alaska Native cyclists, those numbers are 0.5 and 1.1 percent, respectively.

Edwin Lindo

For this reason, and others, Lindo and other activists encourage helmet-wearing but want Seattle to repeal its mandatory helmet law.  They cite the experience of Tacoma, which repealed its own helmet law, because it was, if unintentionally, reflecting the racial and other disparities in law enforcement.

One of the other disparities is economic:  Homeless and poor people are also disproportionately cited for not wearing helmets.  As often as not, they are riding bikes that were acquired for little or nothing.  So, they don't have funds to pay for buy a helmet--or pay for a ticket when they're cited for not wearing one.

So, the question of wearing helmets raises a question the COVID-19 pandemic has brought up:  How does a society promote the health and safety of the greatest number of people without exacerbating racial and economic inequities?

What If She Gave Hints To John?

Donald Trump has pledged to never, ever ride a bike again.

I don't think he'll break that promise, especially now that we've seen how Joe Biden could "smoke" a lot of young whippersnappers.  

To tell you the truth, I don't think I'd be too unhappy if El Cheeto Grande never mounted two wheels.  I don't feel that way about very many people.

On the other hand, I might actually like seeing Heloise on a bike.  I have absolutely no idea of what she's like as a person (or if she's even real). But at least she is trying to help people become something Trumplethinskin never is: civil.

In one of her recent "Hints" columns, she answered a letter from someone who complained about scofflaw cyclists and wondered whether we should follow the same rules of the road as drivers and other vehicle operators.

"Heloise"

Most of Heloise's answer comes from the League of American Bicyclists' guide.  It's stuff we've all seen and heard before, and makes sense, as far as it goes.  But I don't get the sense she's on a bike since she was a kid, if she ever rode.

If she were to take to the streets, it would be interesting if she could encounter the recently-departed John Forester.   

Capital Fine

Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.

I could say something like that on those rare occasions when I agree with the Automobile Association of America or the Washington Times.  Well, today I hit the "daily double," if you will.

The District of Columbia's Department of Public Works says that, later this month, it will begin to levy $150 fines on drivers who stop or park in bicycle lanes.  Perhaps not surprisingly, both the WT and AAA hate the idea.  

One point on which I agree with them is that the move probably won't help to improve cyclists' safety or the flow of traffic.  I am not familiar with that city's bike routes, but if they're anything like some that I've seen here in New York, they're worse than no lanes at all for cyclists.  And, of course, they frustrate drivers.

Perhaps more to the point, though, is this:  New York's ban against stopping or parking in bike lanes is rarely, if ever, enforced.  Will the Capital City do better in making drivers better at respecting the rights and safety of cyclists as well as pedestrians?

If it doesn't, the result will most likely be more injuries and fatalities--and frustrated drivers, which could lead to more deaths and injuries.  

Even more important, though, is the design of both lanes and streets.  Unless that is improved, no other policy or piece of bicycle "infrastructure" will do anything to help both motorists and cyclists navigate often-chaotic conditions. 

Will The Idaho Stop Come To Oregon?

Until recently, I was a disciple of John Forester's "bicycle as vehicle" philosophy.  It's explicated in his "Effective Cycling" book, which--along with the C.O.N.I. manual (which has, possibly, the most beautiful cover illustration of any cycling book)--were my touchstones for cycling.

I haven't looked at the C.O.N.I. manual in a long time.  I'm sure it's still valuable, though some of its specifics might be dated. (To my knowledge, no new edition of the book, at least in English, was published after 1972.)  But I still check out Forester's book on occasion.  Some of its information is dated. That is inevitable, of course:  The book came out about 40 years ago, and, for example, much of the equipment he mentions is no longer made.  But I think his notions about how to cycle in traffic are just as dated.

But they were needed at the time.  As I've related in other posts, many was my commute or training ride in which I would not encounter another cyclist.  Most motorists--which is almost the same thing as saying most adults, as defined by law--didn't ride and regarded the bicycle as a kid's toy.  And if they saw an adult riding, they thought it must be for a bad reason, such as loss of driver's license or inability to afford a car.  The "car is king" attitude was, I believe, even more prevalent than it was now.  Forester was, I think, trying to establish the bicycle as a viable and valid means of transportation for grown-ups in the US.  Four decades ago, that meant cyclists asserting themselves themselves on the road and behaving exactly like drivers in the ways we took lanes, made turns and such.

The conditions at the time also meant that almost no policy-makers were cyclists.  So, whatever laws and policies were created in the name of "safety" were wrongheaded, if not flat-out malicious.  Thus, while folks like Forester advocated for more enlightened rules, they knew that they would be a long time a'coming, if they ever came at all.  Cyclists asserting their rights as operators of vehicles therefore seemed like the best way to "establish" cycling, if you will, in the US.

Now, I'm not sure that drivers' attitudes toward cyclists have changed much.  If anything, I think some have grown more hostile becuase they feel bike lanes are taking away "their" traffic lanes, and because they have the misinformed notion that we use roadways and other infrastructure without paying for it. In fact, a driver parking in Brooklyn (at the formoer site of the library I frequented in my childhood, no less!) made that accusation as he shouted other fallacies and epithets at me.  I waited for him; he probably expected me to punch him in the nose.  But I calmly informed him that the only tax he pays that I don't pay is on gasoline.  I don't know whether he was more surprised by what I said or my demeanor.

Anyway, while drivers might be hostile for different reasons than they were four decades ago, there are some changes in the wind.  There are, at least in a few places, a few policymakers who cycle to their offices, and perhaps elsewhere.  And at least a few of the drivers I encounter have ridden a bike, say, within the last month.  So there is a small, but growing recognition, that while bicycles aren't the lawless hooligans some believe us to be, we also can't behave exactly like motor vehicles and live to tell about it.

That bikes aren't the same as cars is a point made by Jonathan Maus, the editor/publisher of Bike Portland.  In an excelllent article he published the other day, he uses that point to advocate for something that has become one of my pet causes, if you will, as a cyclist:  the Idaho Stop.

As I've mentioned in other posts, the Idaho Stop is when you treat a red signal as a "stop" sign and a "stop" sign as a "yield" sign.  In essence, it means that you don't have to come to a complete stop at an intersection unless traffic is crossing. That improves our safety immensely because if we can cross before the light turns green, we get out in front of whatever traffic might approach from behind us, as well as oncoming traffic--which keeps us from being hit by a turning vehicle.

Maus wrote his article because a similar law is up for vote in the Oregon state senate.  Governor Asa Hutchinson recently signed a similar law in Arkansas, and Utah is considering something like it.  A few municipalities in the US as well as the city of Paris have enacted similar policies during the past decade.  But it's called "The Idaho Stop" because the Gem State has had it on the books since 1982, and for about a quarter-century, it was the only such law in the United States.

Let's hope that Jonathan Maus's words move the legislators of Oregon.  Let's also hope that as Oregon goes, so go New York, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Florida and...well, you get the idea.

This Bicycle Plan May Be Exceptional

One of my graduate school classmates described Cambridge, Massachusetts--his hometown--as "Paradise."  That was some years ago, but from what I hear, it's still a nice, albeit expensive place to live.

It's been a while since I've been there, but I do recall some nice bike riding--and lots of cyclists-- in the town.  The number of riders, I suppose, shouldn't have surprised me, given the number of college campuses in and around the city.

One thing that my former classmate probably liked about his native burg is this:  It's a nice place that tries to improve itself.  At least, that seems to be true when it comes to cyclability.

Photo by David L.Ryan of the Boston Globe staff

The 2015 Cambridge Bicycle Plan is more extensive and better thought-out than most other municipal bicycle plans. It calls for, among other things, a 20-mile network of protected bike lanes.  That, in itself, is impressive for a city that's about a quarter of the size of Manhattan, and a population of 113,630. What makes this plan all the more impressive is that it identifies particular streets and roads that need such lanes, and calls for them to be physically separated by more than lines painted on the street.

Now the plan is getting "teeth," according to Sam Feigenbaum, a volunteer with Cambridge Bicycle Safety, a local advocacy group.  The other day, a new Cycling Safety Ordinance was passed, mandating that the city add permanent protected bike lanes when doing reconstruction on any roads identified in the Safety Plan. "The intent of the Ordinance," according to Feigenbaum, is that if "the bike plan says a street needs a protected lane, that street will get a protected lane."  

Mayor Marc McGovern says that prior to passing the law, a lot of time was spent debating whether the roads under construction would have bike infrastructure. While there will be opportunities for community input, he explains, "people can expect that the city is moving in this direction."

While the plan allows the City Manager--Louis dePasquale--to nix a particular lane based on a street's physical features, the use of the road or financial constraints, he would have to provide a written analysis of why the lane couldn't be built.  But, he says, those instances should be "rare in a layman's sense of the word" as well as in the context of the Ordinance, meaning something that is "infrequent, irregular and exceptional."

Actually, those three words can describe most bicycle-related policy in most US jurisdictions--when it exists at all.  But, for its newly-passed Ordinance, Cambridge is indeed exceptional, whether or not it's the "paradise" my old classmate described.

An Opportunity For Arkansas Cyclists

Say "Idaho" to most people, and they think of "potatoes."

You might think about them if you're a cyclist:  They are, after all, a good energy source. (An old riding buddy used to keep two baked spuds in his jersey pockets.) But you might also associate another word with the Gem State: "Stop."

Way back in 1982, the state passed a law allowing cyclists to treat red lights as "Stop" signs and "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs.  It also allows cyclists to ride through a red light if there is no cross-traffic in the intersection.  These provisions allow cyclists to get ahead of the traffic proceeding in the same direction, making it far less likely that they'll be struck by a turning vehicle.

Since 2011, a few cities in Colorado have enacted stop-as-yield policies.  A Paris decree, issued in 2012 and amended in 2015, allows cyclists to treat certain stop lights (designated by signage) as "Yield" signs.  It also permits cyclists to turn right at red signals or, if there is no street to the right, to proceed avec prudence extreme through the intersection.  To my knowledge, no other US state or other jurisdiction has passed a similar law, though a bill with essentially the same provisions as the Idaho statute was introduced last year in the Utah state legislature and is still making its way through the Statehouse.

But the Utah Yield won't be the second piece of statewide "red-as-stop, stop-as-yield legislation."  On Tuesday, Arkansas Governor Asa Hutchinson signed Act 650, which gives cyclists the same rights as the 1982 Idaho law.

So now that there's an Idaho Stop and it looks like there will be a Utah Yield, Arkansas has to come up with a catchy nickname for their law.  I should think any state that can call itself "The Land of Opportunity" shouldn't have any trouble finding one.

Blue Ridge Cycling Blues

There're too many of those gosh-darned bike riders on this-here road.

OK, so the complaint might not have been articulated in quite that way.  But I've given you the gist of it, as it was relayed to a state legislative representative.

So what does that legislator do?  He introduces a bill that would require all cyclists riding on public streets or highways in his state to register their bikes (for a fee) or face a fine.  They would also be required to affix a plate to the rear of their bicycles.

The representative is Jeffrey Elmore, a Republican who represents Wilkes County in the North Carolina House of Representatives.  He filed the bill "by request," which usually means the representative filed it as a favor to constituent or someone who's not in the general assembly.  It doesn't necessarily mean that the representative who files the bill is in favor of it.

Elmore hasn't said anything about the bill, HB157, since filing it.  However, at least two of his colleagues--both Democrats--have voiced their opposition to it.  

Susan Fisher of Buncombe County said it would discourage people from using their bikes to get to work or school, or for recreation, at a time when "[w]e should be encouraging alternative forms of transportation in light of the carbon restrained future we're facing."  

And Brian Turner, also of Buncombe County, pointed out that such a requirement would place an unfair burden on poor people who rely on their bicycles as their primary mode of transportation.  He also raised another issue:  "Is this what we want our police to be enforcing?"

Family cycling in Boone, North Carolina

The question of enforcement is related to another issue:  Would visitors from out of state be required to purchase a temporary permit?  If not, the police would probably waste a lot of time pulling over cyclists who didn't have plates on their bikes but who came Tar Heel State for a race or a tour of the coast or the Blue Ridge Mountains.   

That last point was not lost on Mike Sule, the executive director of nonprofit Asheville On Bikes.  He points out that his state has become one of the more popular destinations for bicycle tourism.  "WNC (Western North Carolina) is a great place to ride a bike," he explains.  "But so is Pennsylvania, and so is Tennessee" and that "we have to understand that we are competing with those other states for people to come here and enjoy themselves."

He also wonders whether such a bill, if passed, would have a negative impact on the state's bicycle manufacturing and retail industries, which are thriving even with the demise of Performance Bikes.  WNC is home to Industry 9, Fox Factory, Cane Creek and other bicycle-related companies.

Sule also made one other really good point against the bill.  He noted that other cities, including Seattle, San Diego, Chicago and Fort Lauderdale, have imposed similar fees.  In none of those cities did requiring cyclists to register their bikes for a fee meet the objectives, whatever they were, that served as the rationale for such fees.  And enforcing such regulations cost more than the cities collected in fees--while cycling was discouraged.

Together, They Are Better Than Nothing

In October, Anchorage (Alaska) Assembly member Christopher Constant introduced an ordinance that would have required the city's bicycle owners to register their bikes on a free online database, or face fines.  

I've never been to Alaska, so perhaps my perception of its people is a stereotype:  If nothing else, they are rugged individualists.  Somehow I don't think people end up there by following the crowd.

Whatever the truth about them may be, the citizens of The Last Frontier's largest city lived up to my perception when their outcry over the fines forced Constant to withdraw his proposal.

While bike registration isn't a deterrent against theft and certainly doesn't guarantee that a stolen bike will be reunited with its owner, it does make it easier to get the bike back to whoever bought, rides and loves it.  And registering the bike, and keeping a record of the bike's serial number in your own records will make it easier to prove that a bike is yours--especially if it's a common model--if it is recovered.

All of that, of course, assumes that the serial number is still on the bike.  As often as not, if the bike ends up in a "chop shop", the serial number is removed.  The same thing often happens to other stolen items that are re-sold. In Alaska, those items include propane tanks.

Constant--the same assembly member who introduced the failed bike-registration mandate--has just introduced another law that would make it a misdemeanor to remove a serial number from a bicycle or any other merchandise.  It passed unanimously on Tuesday night.

I concur with Austin Quinn-Davidson, another Anchorage Assembly member, who said that this measure won't, by itself, do much to combat theft.  She believes thieves will simply find ways to do their work without tampering with serial numbers.  While the new law is a "first step," the city needs to "come in and get registration up," she said.

She is right, but even the combination of registration and a ban on removing serial numbers will only put a dent in the city's bicycle theft epidemic, just as similar measures in other places would help, if only somewhat.

I'm Such A Rulebreaker, Sort Of...

I wear a helmet when I ride.  Well, most of the time, I do.  Whatever the naysayers might say, I have had two occasions when wearing my helmet probably, if not saved my life, then at least prevented serious injury.  In the second of those incidents, my helmet actually broke in two but I escaped with only a few scratches.

I admit, though, that I've ridden bareheaded, even after those incidents.  When I ride in Florida, I don't wear a helmet:  Even on cool days, most riders, it seems, aren't wearing them. And on my recent trips to Paris, Rome, Cambodia and Laos, I went sans casque, except on the Grasshopper tour in Siem Reap.  I think the only reason we had those is that Grasshopper tours is run by Westerners and was probably covered (pun intended) by insurance regulations in the US or someplace else.  Otherwise, in Southeast Asian countries, I'm not sure I could have even found a helmet: I didn't see any in the bike shops I peeked into, let alone the bike stalls of the market places. 

In the Italian capital, I followed the age-old advice: Do as the Romans do.  I did the same in Paris, which meant that in both cities I didn't wear helmets.  It wouldn't have been hard to find a hardhat in either city:  In fact, some rental services offer them. But it seemed that no one else was wearing them, so I didn't.

So, even though I have had occasions in which wearing a helmet might have saved me, I am still hesitant to support laws requiring every cyclist to wear one.  We don't have such a law here in New York, though every once in a while some police officer tickets an unsuspecting rider who isn't wearing one. In some places, like New Jersey, helmets are mandatory for kids; a few other places require them for adults.  But even though helmet-wearing has become more or less the norm in much of the US, there are still relatively few places that require it.

I am more ready, however, to support another ban:  one on headphones, at least ones that cover the ear.   Right now, the city of Washington, DC forbids cycling with headphones.  So do a few other jurisdictions; more, however, do not allow motorists to drive with mini-speakers covering their ears.

Now some startup company, Conduit Sports, has come out with a headphone that doesn't cover the ear and block the ear canal.  Its creators say their device allows for "situational awareness". By that, I assume they mean that you can hear horns and other traffic sounds while you listen to Cardi B or Brockhampton.  

Riding with such headphones may well be safe.  Still, I'll stick to riding without them, or without any other audio stimulation other than what's provided by my surroundings when I ride. Even if I'm doing a ride I can do in my sleep, I prefer to hear what's around me, in part because it helps me to think, meditate or simply relax while riding.  Also, I reckon it's safer than riding even with those new headphones.

But I'll still wear my helmet. Most of the time, anyway.

Did Lime Make Things 1000 Percent Worse?

Given how much I ride in Westchester County, I haven't ridden much in White Plains.  It seems that I pedal through all of the towns surrounding it, but somehow manage to miss WP.

Then again, I haven't found many compelling reasons to wheel through the city.  One thing I have noticed is that there are probably more signs telling cyclists (and skateboarders) not to ride on the sidewalks than in any other municipality in the area.

Lately, I've heard that the police are actually making efforts to enforce the law, especially since the dockless Lime Bike sharing company set up shop.  Although some locals say that there's been more riding on sidewalks since those green bikes made their appearance, Mayor Thomas Roach insists, [T]his is not a Lime Bike issue. This is a bike issue."

 

He may have a point.  After all, in places where Lime has come to town, the main complaint has been about bicycles left on sidewalks and other places where people could trip over them.  On the other hand, it may be that people on such bikes are more likely to ride them onto the sidewalks since the only stipulation seems to be that they can't be left in the street.

Whatever the situation, some in the city think the real problem is that there is so little disincentive to break the law.  Police officers who wrote tickets soon realized as much when they learned that the fine--$10--"hadn't been increased since the Eisenhower administration," according to Roach.

So, he says, it should be increased to $100--or 1000 percent.  Some agree with this idea, while others--not all of whom are cyclists--think it's too steep.  Some, like Laura Molloy, believe "something like $30 or $40 will make you think about it.  Fellow resident Joan Bennett thinks, "they should get a $10 ticket the first time," but "if there's a second time, they should get a much bigger ticket."

A vote will be taken on it at the next City Council meeting, 5 November.

Three Feet: Better Than Nothing?

Two years ago, one of the most horrific car-bike collisions I've ever heard of occurred near Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel were out for the ride they took together every week for more than a decade.  Sheila Jeske, Paul Runnels, Jennifer Johnson and Paul Gobble joined them.

As they pedaled, a blue Chevy pickup truck was barreling along the road in the same direction--"erratically", according to three people who called it in to the police.  

Moments later, that truck plowed into the cyclists.  Jeske, Runnels, Johnson and Gobble would spend months in recuperation and therapy.  They are riding again today, though with more difficulty.

Still, they are more fortunate than their riding buddies:  Bradley, Fevig-Hughes, Nelson, Paulik and Sippel were killed almost instantly.  

In response to that tragedy, and others, a law was proposed earlier this year.  It would have mandated that motorists give cyclists a five-foot berth when passing them.  The law in the Wolverine State, like that in many others, said only that vehicles had to pass "at a safe distance."

In fairness, it should be pointed out that, as I have mentioned in earlier posts, studies have reached conflicting conclusions about the efficacy of such laws in preventing car-bike collisions. For one thing, on narrow roads, it is difficult, if not impossible, to give such a wide berth, especially if there is traffic coming from the opposite direction.  Also, such laws, like the ones against texting or using a cell phone while driving, are difficult to enforce.

Still, such a law is probably better than nothing for protecting cyclists. (Also, as some have pointed out, when it's enforced, it makes driving too close to cyclists a ticketable offense.)  I think that is what Michigan legislators were thinking when they passed a law, which takes effect today, requiring drivers to give cyclists a three-foot berth when passing.  

It's too late for Debbie Bradley, Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Tony Nelson, Larry Paulik and Suzanne Sippel.  But, one can hope that it will save other lives.