Which Way?

Yogi Berra supposedly said, “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.”

The Signs In Delaware

You're riding down a street.  You see a swath of green--and white lines and--barricades!?  Really?  There's a bike lane here?

More than a few times, I've had bike paths appear seemingly out of nowhere--and end just as abruptly. Or someone tells me about a lane I somehow missed in an area I ride frequently.

Now, I can only imagine how often someone who's newer to cycling than I am--or who rides less frequently than I do--is totally oblivious to whatever bicycle infrastructure might be available to them.  Or they just don't know what might be a good route to pedal from their homes to work, school, the park or wherever they want or need to go.

The folks at Bike Delaware understand as much.  They were instrumental in getting the state to build bike lanes-- including the Wilmington-New Castle Greenway, a safe, direct, flat and nearly uninterrupted seven-mile motor-free trail linking the Wilmington riverfront with downtown New Castle.

That lane opened last September.  Three years earlier, in July of 2015, Bike Delaware began working with the Delaware Department of Transportation to to secure the necessary regulatory approval for "wayfinding" signage.  Transportation signs are highly regulated by the Federal government--more so than roadways or bike paths, which are mainly state or county projects.  

Best of all, the bike signs have their own unique color, so they can't be confused with other road signs.  

I haven't been to Delaware in a long time. But if I ever find myself there, at least I'll know which way to ride!

Seeing The Signs

Caterina, Charlie (I), Candice, Charlie (II), Max and Marlee.

I have loved them all.  I miss Caterina, both Charlies and Candice.  At least I have Max and Marlee.

They all did, and gave, everything I ever could have wanted from the likes of them.  Well, all except one thing.

I never could get any of them to do this:

For that matter, I've never been able to persuade any cat to ride with me.  

A few years ago, on New Years' morning, I stopped for a cat I saw and who looked almost pleadingly at me.  As soon as I got off my bike, he darted to my ankles and rubbed himself against me.  I picked him up.  For a moment, he curled on my shoulder and I tried getting on my bike, figuring I could start off the new year by rescuing a feline friend.  But he was having none of it:  As soon as I lifted my leg over the bike, he dropped himself off my chest and landed on his feet.

I tried a similar rescue about a year ago, on another cat who greeted me.  It ended much like the first one I tried:  When I got on the bike, the cat decided to go airborne.

Perhaps those felines--and my own--saw this sign:

Well, now I know what they're doing while I'm riding!  Hmm...Maybe that's the reason they won't ride with me. 

The Mysterious Syntax Of A Road Sign

Some people seem to believe that writing or speaking grammatically is elitist or simply fussy.  Then there are those who are convinced that those of us who do are conspiring against them in some way or another.

Now, I don't pretend to speak (or write) with perfect grammar all of the time. I think I do it often enough to be understood, at least most of the time. If nothing else, I know how poorly constructed sentences with unclear phrasing can lead to misunderstandings--and keep lawyers busy.

Hey, proper punctuation can save a person's life. If you don't believe me, look at this:

Rescind order to execute prisoner.

Now, tell me:  Does the prisoner live or die in that sentence?

If we add a comma, the intent is clearer:

Rescind order, to execute prisoner.

If that sentence was in the governor's memo, the inmate in question would be choosing his or her last meal.  However, another kind of punctuation, placed in another part of the sentence, gives us an entirely different outcome:

Rescind:  Order to execute prisoner.

Now, there aren't such drastic examples (to my knowledge, anyway) in the world of cycling. However, in an earlier post, I showed how a poorly-phrased sign can say something different from--even the exact opposite of--what was intended.

Today I saw another sign--on the RFK/Triborough Bridge--that doesn't convey what I believe the Department of Transportation is trying to tell us:

So, the graphic part of the sign is saying that graffiti isn't allowed.  Then the first four words of the text say it's a crime.  So far, it makes sense.

But what does "camera enforced" mean?  Is crime "camera enforced"?  Perhaps the person who wrote the sign speaks another language and, while composing the sign, his or her brain flipped from English to whatever, causing a change in syntax. A "camera enforced crime" would be a "crime camera enforced" in French, Spanish, Italian or a lot of other languages.

Hmm...Maybe the city didn't want to spend the money to print the sign in both English and Spanish.  

Or is the sign trying to tell us that graffiti is camera enforced?  Now that would be interesting, if in an Orwellian sort of way. 
 

Road Signs For Cyclists

By now, we've all seen the international road signs. Yes, we even have some here in the US.  Hey, one day we might even have the metric system.

I saw those signs for the first time during my first bike tour in Europe.  I thought they were great:  Most of them didn't need explanation, which is nice when you don't know the local language.

They've got me to thinking about some signs for cyclists.  If you've travelled in a hilly area, you've probably seen the sign for falling rock zones.  So...how about one for a "falling rain zone"?

From MassBike