A Pub In His Path

When I was young and thought myself invincible, I would depart for a ride with a full water bottle (or CamelBack, in my mountain biking days) and return home with--a full water bottle.  And, no, I hadn't refilled it along the way.  Sometimes people, including "tough guy" riding partners, either wondered how I didn't, or implored me to, take at least a few sips.  In those days, I just didn't get thirsty very often and didn't realize that even when I wasn't, my body still needed water.

Once, on a ride in Pennsylvania, one of those riding buddies quipped, "This road could be blocked by a fountain and you wouldn't take a drink!"

Perhaps that was true.  But what if the bike lane were blocked by a cafe--or a pub?

A few months into the pandemic, New York City allowed restaurant and bar owners to construct kiosks outside their establishments in order to limit crowding inside.  Some of those kiosks block bike lanes which, ironically, were built not long before the kiosks.  Sometimes I wonder whether those places are trying to drum up business with folks like me--or whether their owners and patrons simply hate us.

The bike lanes in question were all carved out of city streets.  There are a few off-road lanes in the city's parks and other areas.  A few offer snack, drink and lunch stands along the way but none, to my knowledge, feature a full-on restaurant, cafe, bar--or pub.  On the other hand, in at least one part of England, the off-road bike lanes aren't immune to encroachment by eating and drinking establishments. 

Roadcc reader "IanMK" encountered this during his Easter Sunday ride in Buckinghamshire.  He grumbled but, in the end, he stopped for a pint.  I mean, what else could he do, right? 

Trash Bins Blocking Our Way

If it's happening in New York, it's happening (or has happened) in Portland.  At least, that's how it is in the world of cycling.

Even in that Bike-o-topia on the Pacific, some folks aren't above using bike lanes for parking, picking up or dropping off passengers or dumping debris.  Some folks who do such things are careless or thoughtless.  But in the Rosebud City, as in my hometown, some acts of bike lane blockage are pure malice.

I'm thinking now of something Jonathan Maus, the editor and publisher of Bike Portland, pointed out in the latest issue: trash cans blocking bike lanes.

I'm not talking about the stray bin a storm blows into our paths.  Rather, I'm referring to folks who lay multiple receptacles across or along the lane.  If you're riding in the dark or in the rain, it's easy to miss them. And if you're riding in a lane, but in the opposite direction from auto traffic (as I do when I pedal north on the Crescent Street lane that passes in front of my building)--and something is also blocking the sidewalk, as is often the case--you have to thread an extremely thin line between the lane and the traffic that's coming at you.

One of Maus's readers reported that workers who work for her building's management company were among the guilty. When she brought the issue to their attention, her concerns were "repeatedly dismissed." 

Then a car struck the bins.  She emailed the Oregon Department of Transportation, which manages the section of lane in question, and the Portland Bureau of Planning & Sustainability, who are in charge of waste and recycling.  "I shudder to think what would have happened had a cyclist approached this sudden wall of cans in the dark rainy weather and darted into traffic to avoid them," she wrote.

A day later, a PBS staffer responded.  The staffer said they contacted the building's management, who said the bins would be placed upright on the sidewalk, and out of the lane.  

As Maus points out, the city should handle such matters automatically "through a mix of marketing, educating, design and enforcement."  But, until that happens, the burden will be on us--whether we're in Portland, New York or anywhere else--to file complaints.

A Wall Across A Bike Lane--In Portland

Sometimes I won't use a bike lane because it is poorly-conceived, -built or -maintained.  Other times, as is often the case on the Queensborough-59th Street Bridge lane, it's simply too narrow and crowded, especially with ebikes and motorized scooters.  Or the lane may simply not go in the direction I need to go--or doesn't go anywhere at all.

I've mentioned those reasons in other post, along with the fact that some drivers park or pass--sometimes out of spite--in the lanes.  Also, cops often plant their patrol cars in them as they're taking breaks.  

There's another reason that I don't believe I've mentioned:  debris and obstacles, sometimes deliberately placed.  They range from broken bottles, tacks and nails to bricks, cinderblocks and larger objects.  Lately, someone built an actual wall across a bike lane in Portland, Oregon.

No one is sure of who built it, but some have observed that its architect and constructers must have been "amateurs."  While that could have made the structure even more hazardous than it could have been, it made the barrier easier to take apart.  

Remnants of the wall built across the N Concord bike path in Portland. (Photo by Jonathan Maus)

There is another interesting twist to this story, though.  In Portland, relationships between cyclists and non-cyclists are as contentious as they are in other place in the US.  But the wall's construction may have had little or nothing to do with antipathy toward cyclists.  Rather, it seems to have been placed to block a passage that connects two parts of the Overbrook neighborhood.  Homeowners live on one side; homeless encampments stand on the other.

So...The construction of the wall may have been illustrative of just how politicized not only the United States, but local communities, have become.  While the target may have been homeless people, but cyclists became collateral damage, if you will, whether or not that was the wall builder's (or builders') intention.

 

Jury Awards Cyclist Injured By Bike-Lane Obstruction

Sometimes it seems that there aren't any penalties for creating hazards in a bike lane.  I can't begin to count how many times government vehicles park in them, or civilians use them to pick up or discharge passengers.  Worst of all, though, are objects left thoughtlessly or deliberately in our paths.

Such an obstruction ended the career of a Securities and Exchange Commission official.  In April of 2016, James Schnurr was pedaling down a bike lane in his Jupiter, Florida neighborhood when he struck a stanchion.  According to his complaint, he "was ejected from his bicycle and hit the ground," causing "significant and permanent injuries."  The SEC hired an interim replacement for Schnurr in July of that year and he retired permanently that November.

James Schnurr

In addition to incurring expenses for his medical, nursing and rehabilitative care, Schnurr suffered a loss of earnings (he was making $248,000 a year) and the ability to earn money in the future, according to his complaint.  So, he filed suit against the homeowner's association that oversees Jonathan's Landing and Jonathan's Landing Golf Club, Inc.

He claims that the companies erected the stanchions--which are typically used to hold up chains, velvet ropes or cloth belts to delineate crowd-control boundaries--but failed to provide pavement markings, signage or other warnings as to their "hazardous nature."  It is not clear as to why the companies erected the stanchions.

The association and golf club fought the charges. Still, a Palm Beach County jury awarded Schnurr 41 million dollars but  determined that all parties shared responsibility. Schnurr was deemed 50 percent responsible due to "negligence. The homeowner's association was 45 percent negligent because it failed to notify Schnurr of the dangerous conditions, while the golf club's 5 percent negligence contributed to his loss, injury or damage. Now it is up to the court to determine whether that $41 million will be cut to reflect how responsibility was distributed.

Whatever happens, I hope this leads to more awareness of how cyclists are endangered, whether deliberately or unwittingly, by obstructions in bike lanes that are supposed to be safe for us.