Will Bike Share Return to Bayou City?

 

Photo by Gail Delaughter, Houston Public Media

Houston, Texas is the fourth-largest city in the United States. At the end of last month, it became the largest without a bike-share network.

To put that into perspective, New Rochelle, New York—a city a few miles from my apartment—has a bike share network. And for every resident in “The Queen City of the Sound,” approximately 30 live in “Bayou City.”

Houston BCycle launched in 2012 and, like most other bike-share programs, became popular. Some say that it became a victim of its success. BCycle board member James Llamas told Houston Public Media that as  BCycle tried to grow from a mainly recreational service to one that could serve as an alternative and equitable mode of transportation, its business model—which relied on user and sponsorship revenue—proved unsustainable. The nonprofit network sometimes received support from Harris County Commissioner Rodney Ellis and the city, but it wasn’t steady enough to cover budget shortfalls.

Under a previous group of Metropolitan Transit Authority of Harris County (METRO) board members, there had been a plan to operate a new bike-share program operated by Quebec-based PBSC Urban Solutions. But new leadership recently took Metro’s reins and a spokesperson said the plan is “under review.”

I haven’t been to Houston in a long time. But if it’s anything like the city I remember, it needs a bike share program that is a viable transportation option as much as any city needs it. While, from what I’ve read and heard, the availability and reliability of the city’s bus system has improved greatly—and there are a few light-rail lines (none existed when I was there), it’s still—like most US cities south of the Potomac and west of the Appalachians—very difficult to live and work without a car. For one thing, unlike cities like Boston, Paris and my hometown of New York, it sprawls and annexes far-flung suburbs and rural areas. For another, its planning has prioritized driving: Much of METRO’s jurisdiction includes High Occupancy Vehicle (HOV) lanes.  And, as one resident explained, in “H-Town” and its surrounding area, “sidewalks are a luxury.”

If and when Houston gets a new bike-share network, it will be starting from scratch: BCycle’s bikes, docking stations and ancillary equipment —from pickup trucks to soap dispensers—are up for auction.  All items are sold “as is” and are, as Scott Erdo, the city’s Asset Disposition Department division manager admits, “in various states of disrepair.” He cautions, “Buyer beware.” Bids on bikes start at $10: only $2.50 more than a one-hour ride on BCycle.

One can only hope that the auction will help to bring a new, and possibly improved, bike share system to a city that really can use it.

No Gas=Less Greenhouse Gas: The Bicycle Equation

There is the Paris Climate Accord.  And there are other agreements between nations to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.  Among them is the European Green Deal, adopted by the European Union member states.

A common criticism of such plans is that they're "too little, too late."  Or, more precisely, the goals are ambitious but there are few or no details about what will be done to meet them, or how.  Also, many scientists and others who study pollution and climate change say that the target dates are too far into the future:  The crisis is, and therefore the work needs to be done, now.

In an article she wrote for Parliament, Jill Warren points out another deficiency of the EGD which, I suspect could also be a fault of other plans to "go green" or make cities--and the planet--"sustainable."  I mentioned it last month in writing about Nicolas Collignon's excellent Next City article.  

Essentially, both Warren and Collignon say that any plan to make a city or this planet more livable or "sustainable" should include bicycling--or, more exactly, ways to get more people to ride bicycles.  But planners, whether at the municipal or continental level, seem to have a blind spot where there are vehicles with two wheels, two pedals and no motor (unless you count the humans pedaling them).  Neither says, but I believe both agree with, what I am about to say next: While not everyone will, or want to, be a racer or long-distance tourer, most people can cycle for short trips.

And, I think that each one makes a proposal that, while seemingly very different, are very closely related.  Collignon says that one problem with much planning is that the planners think we can "technology" our way out of our problems. (Some of that mentality is, of course, a result of the sway technology companies have over policy-makers.)  Thus, planners are oblivious, not only to bicycles, but other low-tech solutions.

As planners think in terms of high-tech, they also tend, especially if they are in large governing bodies like the EU, to see the world in macroeconomic terms.  That is why, I believe, that the drafters of the EGD don't mention something that, when I read about it, seems glaringly obvious:  re-shoring Europe's bicycle industry.

Road transport accounts for 26 percent of the EU's greenhouse gas emissions.  I suspect the proportion in similar in Japan and other developed economies.  Some of those emissions come from vehicles transporting manufactured goods, and still more from planes and other forms of transportation.  Re-shoring bicycle (and other) industries would mean that bikes, parts and accessories now made in China would be manufactured once again in France, Italy and other EU countries, as they were until around the beginning of this century.

Cyclists waiting at a red light in Munich, Germany.

Warren's idea ties into Collignon's because as raw materials and manufactured goods have to travel shorter distances to their customers, the means of accounting for, as well as transporting, them don't have to be as technologically sophisticated.  

So, yet another voice is saying that planners and policy-makers need to take a longer and closer look at the bicycle.  Let's hope that Jill Warren and Nicolas Collignon are seen as oracles or prophets rather than as Cassandras.

How Many "Drips" Will It Take To Wash Away A Stroad?

Charles Marohn's book is called The Confessions of a Recovering Engineer.  In it, the former road designer and transportation planner describes how conventional American traffic engineering makes people and communities less safe, destroys the fabric of communities, bankrupts towns and cities and exacerbates the very problems--like congestion--engineers like himself were trying to solve.

His greatest disdain is for what he calls "stroads."  I mentioned them in an August post. Think of them as Franken-lanes:  They are supposed to be streets in cities and towns but in reality are highways with multiple lanes of high-speed traffic.  (Even if the speed limit is more like that of an urban or residential street--say, 30 mph (50 kph), drivers are often sprinting at twice that between lights.) They are usually lined with big-box stores and other businesses that provide a steady stream of cars and trucks pulling in and out of the lanes.

Examples of "stroads" in my area are the Hempstead Turnpike, which I wrote about in an earlier post, West Street (a.k.a. Route 9A) in Manhattan and, even closer to home, Northern and Queens Boulevards.  A particularly egregious example of a "stroad" is US 19 on Florida's Gulf Coast.  

In some places, particularly in the southern and western US states, cyclists use "stroads" because there are few or no alternative routes.  Even if a cyclist is not riding along the route itself, he or she probably will need to cross it because, as Mahron points out, they often divide downtown areas, leaving, say, a store somebody frequents on one side and a doctor or other service provider on the other.  Or said cyclist might live on one side of the stroad and want to go to a park or movie theatre--or need to get to school or work--on the other side.

Michael Weilert discovered this danger the hard way.  He was crossing, with his bicycle, one such stroad--Pacific Avenue (a.k.a. State Route 7) in Tacoma, Washington--when he was struck and killed in a crosswalk.  Last week, a hundred people gathered for a silent ride at the site where Michael's life ended after only 13 years.

Photo by Carla Gramlich for Strong Towns

While such tragedies motivate the families, friends and immediate communities of victims, they don't lead to fundamental change because of what Marohn calls the "drip, drip, drip" effect.  When hundreds of people are killed, say, in a plane crash or building collapse, it gets the attention of planners, policy-makers and, sometimes, politicians.  On the other hand, incidents like the one that claimed young Michael Weilert usually claim one, or a few victims, so they receive less notice.

How many more "drips" will it take before those in authority see a tidal wave?

 

Even The Dutch Take A Wrong Turn Sometimes

Which of these statements is true?

A. The Netherlands gets it right when it comes to cycling infrastructure.

B.  Justine Valinotti is a direct descendent of Christopher Columbus and inherited his sense of direction.

Actually, neither is completely true--or false.  I can't claim lineage (as far as I know, anyway) to the guy who didn't "discover" America, but my navigational skills are on par with his.  It's a good thing I have a sense of adventure!

As for the Netherlands:  Much of the world sees it as a cycling paradise.  Indeed, there are more bikes than people, and its system of bike lanes and other structures are, well, a system, more or less:  They actually make cycling a real transportation alternative, at least in the cities.

That said, even Dutch planners get it wrong sometimes.  Mark Wagenbuur reminds us of this in a recent post on his blog, Bicycle Dutch.

Once or twice a year, he rents a bike at the Venlo train station and rides to his in-laws in Grubbenvorst.  In times past, his route was perhaps not the most scenic, but was pretty direct--and, from his direction, relatively safe for cycling.  Four years ago, however, the local government built a viaduct for cyclists that was ostensibly safe and convenient for cyclists.

The problem, from Mr. Wagenbuur's point of view, was that one of the roads he took on earlier trips was closed to cyclists--and the viaduct was designed, in part, to bypass that road. It forces cyclists to take a slightly longer--but considerably more complicated--route.

The blue line is Mark Wagenbuur's current route.  The horizontal blue segment is the viaduct.  His old route is in green.  In red are possible connections that could make his route more straighforward. From Bicycle Dutch.

He admits that the additional distance isn't much--it adds only 36 seconds to his trip--but the detours and other turns are exasperating.  I guess he's a bit like me in that way:  I don't mind taking a longer route, whether it's for a commute or a fun ride.  If I'm trying to get to a particular place (e.g., work or a doctor's appointment) at a particular time, though, I prefer to minimize my chances of taking a wrong turn.

As I've said in other posts, merely building bike lanes isn't going to convert people from four wheels to two.  Those lanes have to be planned in order to provide safe, convenient and practical routes for cyclists.  That happens more often in European countries, like the Netherlands, than in the United States.  But, since Dutch planners are people (and may not realize that folks like me are navigationally-challenged), every once in a while they make missteps--like the viaduct Mark Wagenbuur described.

For The Skyway, Higher Goals Than For The High Line, I Hope

There are many definitions of a "true New Yorker."

Here's one:  We don't go to the Statue of Liberty, and we wouldn't be caught dead in Times Square (at least in its current iteration)--or on the High Line.

I took a walk up on the High Line once, shortly after it opened.  At the time, I was recovering from my surgery and couldn't ride my bicycle.  I liked the idea of taking an old industrial railroad viaduct and turning it into a venue lined with art, plants and unusual buildings, from which one could take in some stunning views of the skyline and even the sky itself.

The next time I went, a few months later, I was on my bicycle.  I knew riding wasn't allowed, but I discovered that you couldn't even bring your bike onto the High Line.  And I wasn't about to lock it up on the street.

So I returned another day, sans bike.  I found myself hating the place, but not only because I couldn't ride my bike.  What I realized is that the High Line is just another tourist trap offering a sanitized view of the city--except, of course, for the part where you get to see inside the apartments that line part of the High Line.  I'm long past being titillated by what people do in their own rooms, on their own time!

Anyway, other cities are starting to think about ways they could use abandoned or disused railroad trestles, elevated highways and other kinds of viaducts.  One of those cities is at the other end of New York State: Buffalo.

Like other industrial towns in the "Rust Belt", the Nickel City has gone through some very hard times.  That has left abandoned and seemingly-obsolete structures.  They won't lure young people with education or money back into town unless they're used in appealing ways.

 

One such structure is the city's Skyway.  Slated for demolition, it's now the subject of a $100,000 contest for alternative ideas.  One such idea is to turn the old highway into an urban linear park for "use by bicycles and pedestrians, like the High Line."

The local news media report, of course, has misconceptions about the High Line.  Now, if they actually allow bicyclists on the Skyway and make it truly pedestrian-friendly--unlike the High Line, which is clogged with herds of tourists that move at an amoebic pace and stop for sunbathing and "selfies"--they might have something that could help turn Buffalo into a livable, sustainable city.

Going Dutch In Colorado

You all have heard of NIMBY--Not In My Backyard.  It's how people react when their city wants to build a waste treatment plant, homeless shelter or anything else that brings people or things darker and dirtier than they are (on the outside, anyway) to their neighborhoods.

Me, I'd say NIMBY to big parking lots, high-speed roads and expansive lawns.  Then again, I've never owned a car (or house) or even had a driver's license.  

It seems that Pete Adeney shares my sentiments.  Known to readers of his blog as "Mr. Money Mustache", he is the guru of the Financial Independence, Retire Early" movement he proselytizes on his blog.  Its acronym, FIRE, also just happens to be the acronym for the industries--Finance, Insurance and Real Estate--that are the engines of the sorts of cities that are the antithesis of the one he wants to create. 

Now, he admits that he and his wife lucked out by finding tech-sector jobs that paid them extremely well. One of his tips, however, is to plunge yourself into DIY (He even built his own house.) and put even small change into investments. But the best thing anyone can do to stop up "the exploding volcano of wastefulness,"  he says, is to drive less.  He cites Ivan Ilitch, author of Energy and Equity, who in 1974 calculated that the average American male devotes more than 1600 hours a year to his car, whether on the road or gathering resources for his machine.  Or, you can look at it this way:  In 2017, the average amount borrowed for a new car was $31,099, which translates into a $515 monthly payment. (Those figures were $21,375 and $398, respectively, for a used car.)

A conception of Cyclocroft.

This knowledge informs his idea for a planned community, provisionally called Cyclocroft, between the cities of Longmont and Boulder in Colorado.  He's teaming up with B4place, an urban-planning consultancy based in the Netherlands, to try to bring the project into being.

Their proposed community would encompass approximately one square mile and be home to 50,000 people.  It would be a "compact" place, he says, where cyclists and pedestrians rule the roost, as in some Dutch cities, and automobiles wouldn't be allowed.  Nor would malls:  Instead, the small stores, like the parks and other public places, would be close to people's homes.

His choice of site, he says, will make the project possible because other "sustainable" projects" like the Google-funded "smart city" planned for Toronto's Quayside, "aren't creating any magic."  It, and other projects like it, are being built in cities that have sky-high costs because they "already destroyed by cars," he claims.  So the benefits of a pedestrian mall and bike lane accrue only to those who can afford to move to those places, and are lost the moment one ventures into the rest of the city.

Although Adeney is optimistic about his idea's chances of becoming reality, B4place's managers realize there are obstacles, such as NIMBYism and "the entrenched" who are "unchallenged and lawyered up," says B4place's Tara Ross, an American.  But, she says, even if it isn't built, it's a sign of eco-friendly urban developments to come because current development practices are neither environmentally nor economically sustainable.

What Fits In The Box?

Why should we encourage people to give up their steering wheels for handlebars?  Here is one possible answer:

You have a box, and it holds only so much, and once it gets beyond that--then you start to have problems.

The "box" to which economic development specialist Einar Tangen was referring is a city--in this case, Beijing.  But he could have been describing just about any old European or Asian capital--or a few US cities like New York, Boston and San Francisco.

Tangen was describing a reality of the Chinese capital:  It simply wasn't designed for 22 million people--or, even more to the point (for the purposes of this blog, anyway), 5 million cars.  To put that in perspective, Beijing has almost two and a half times as many people, and cars, as New York City.  

From what I've read, I don't think anyone even began to realize Beijing's limits until, maybe, two decades ago.  That is when industrialization--and, with it, migrations from the countryside to the cities--accelerated.  

Beijing traffic jam,  1975

In 1995, Beijing and New York had roughly the same population--around 8 million.  Commuters and visitors to New York--especially the central areas of Manhattan--complained about traffic jams.  Driving from the Hudson to the East River along 14th Street--a distance of about 4 kilometers, or 2.5 miles--could, and can, take as much as 45 minutes, while a bus ride along the same route might cost an hour.  Meanwhile, even if a Beijing cyclist encountered a traffic jam, it would mean that the road was clogged with other bikes, not cars.  That cyclist could pedal the same distance in half as much time as it took transverse Manhattan.

Today, both cities contend with traffic jams.  Starting in the early 2000s, the ones in the Big Apple started to ease up a bit, at least for a decade or so.  But since 2015 or thereabouts, motor traffic is on the rise once again, in spite of Uber's boast that its services would take a million cars off this city's streets.  Uber and similar services, unbound from many of the regulations that govern New York's taxis and limousines, put thousands of new for-hire drivers on the city's streets.  Also, Amazon and other online shopping services began to offer free shipping for very small orders (Previously, most had a minimum number of items or dollar amount for no-charge shipping), which meant more deliveries, nearly all of which come in trucks.

Beijing's traffic jams, on the other hand, now have the same composition of the ones in most other major cities:  cars and trucks--but especially cars, in Beijing's case. 

Beijing traffic jam, 2015

New York, Beijing and other cities are facing or denying this reality:  They simply can't shoehorn any more motor vehicles onto their streets.  If anything, those places, and others, should encourge bicycling--but make it truly safe and convenient for people going to and from work, not merely a way for the affluent to stretch when they get bored with the gym.

As Einar Tangen said, each of these cities is a box that's already holding more than it was designed to hold.  To keep that box from bursting, planners need to start thinking out of the (auto-centric) box.

More Than Green Paint In Beantown

In which American city do motorists spend the most time in bumper-to-bumper traffic?

Hint:  It's not New York.  Or Los Angeles.  Or any other city in California.  And it's not Chicago or Detroit, either.

That distinction goes to Boston.  Residents of Beantown wouldn't be surprised:  After all, their city has long had a reputation for having some of the worst traffic in the United States.

It's such that fellow New Yorkers are amazed when I tell them I've cycled in Boston.  More than one Big Apple cyclist has told me he or she would never, ever ride in the New England hub. "Those drivers are crazy!," they exclaim.

My response is usually along the lines of, "Well, yes, you do have to exercise caution, just like you would in any other city."

One thing I have to say about Boston cyclists, though:  They have grown very sophisticated about cycling infrastructure.  No longer are they satisfied with the "green paint on the side of the road" approach to bike lanes.

Now Causeway Street, a major connection between the North and West Ends (and, until 2004, the site of one of the city's main elevated train lines), has a bike lane running down its center, separated from the east- and west-bound traffic lanes by concrete barriers.  This could be very important to commuters and recreational cyclists alike, as it links to the Connect Historic Boston bike path and ends with the New England Aquarium.

Also, the upcoming redesign of Commonwealth Avenue near Boston University will include bike lanes built into wide sidewalks and separated from cars:  an arrangement common in Europe.  The redesign will also eliminate a flaw such lanes have in other American locales:  At intersections, concrete platforms will be built between the bike path and auto lanes.  This is intended to force drivers to take slower, wider right turns.

Speaking of turns: The city's first bike rotary is under construction at a point (near the MBTA Forest Hills station) where new bike paths intersect with the city's Southwest Corridor path.  As Boston Globe reporter Adam Vaccaro wryly notes, it remains to be seen whether cyclists behave better in their rotaries than motorists do in theirs.  (That sounds like something a Bostonian would say.)

And, for traffic management, traffic signals for cyclists are also under construction.  I've seen a few here in New York.  In theory, they are a good idea, especially where bike lanes intersect with major roadways.  One problem I've seen is on the lane I often use when commuting to work:  It's a two-way lane for cyclists, but the street that runs alongside it is a one-way.  This creates problems when you are cycling in the opposite direction from the traffic:  The bike signal isn't always in sync with the cars, many of which are coming off the nearby expressway.  I hope the Boston planners are mindful of such things.

So far, it all sounds pretty ambitious and forward-thinking.  I am very interested to see how the new lanes, barriers and signals work.

Enlightened Self-Interest?: Uber And Bike Sharing

During rush hour, it is very inefficient for a one-tonne hunk of metal to take one person ten blocks.

Who said that?  An urban planner?  An environmentalist?  Someone involved with a bike-share program?

That last answer would be the right one, sort of.  Dara Khosrowshahi is the CEO of the company that acquired bike-share startup Jump Bikes.

And that company is...Uber.  Yes, the ride-share company:   one of the companies responsible for clogging the streets of cities like New York with drivers who pull over, seemingly without warning or regard for pedestrians or cyclists.  (I've had a couple of near-misses with Uber drivers who were looking at their screens instead of what (or who) was outside of their windows.)  Believe it or not, they're not only getting into bike share, they will soon offer electric scooters in San Francisco and other cities.

So, what brought about Mr. Khosrowshahi's seeming apostasy?  As he told The Financial Times, "There's a $6 trillion mobility market, and no one product is going to be serving that whole market."  So, while shifting some of the company's resources from drivers to cycling or scooters may hurt profits for a little while, it will pay off in the long run by giving people more options.

Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi presenting Jump Bicycles in Berlin, Germany.

Interestingly, he says some Uber drivers are even embracing the idea.  The reason, he says, is that bicycles would reduce the demand for short rides and leave drivers to complete longer, more lucrative runs, such as rides to airports.

And, unlike yellow cabs, Uber drivers don't make money if they're stuck in traffic:  Usually, they are paid a fixed or agreed-upon amount of money for a trip, regardless of whether it takes 10 minutes or an hour.  Yellow cabs, on the other hand, have meters that continue to run whether the car is zipping down a side street or idling on the Long Island Expressway. (How can it be an "expressway" if the traffic isn't moving?  Its acronym, the LIE, is more apt.)

So, as Khosrowshahi says, driving a tonne of metal ten blocks isn't a very efficient way to transport one passenger--from a transportation, environmental or economic standpoint. Ultimately, it doesn't even help the drivers' bottom lines.  More bikes, fewer cars, less congestion and pollution...because of Uber?  Who knew?

Studying In Copenhagen

When I was an undergraduate, "studying abroad" usually involved foreign-language majors spending a year in the "home" or "mother" country of a language.  So French majors went to France, Spanish majors to Spain and, well, you get the idea.

Occasionally, students in other majors sojourned in other lands.  For example, art and architecture students might go to Italy or France, aspiring Shakespeare scholars trekked to England and some who were training in technical or scientific fields might spend time in Germany.  

In those days, nobody went to another country to study cycling, especially transportation or utility cycling.  Most American urban planning was auto-centric, and even though we'd lived through the '70's Bike Boom, forsaking two pedals and two wheels for one pedal and four wheels was seen as a milestone of maturity for a young person.

Well, it seems that things are changing, if little by little.  Three days from now,  seven Landscape Architecture and four Kinesiology students from Penn State University are going to Copenhagen to learn more about the Danish capital's cycling culture.

Specifically, those students will spend two weeks in a faculty-led program in which they will, according to the university, "observe bicycle infrastructure and multi-modal transportation solutions, learn from programs and policies that support biking, and learn about the role of biking in sustainable, livable communities."

Upon the completion of online course work, the students will earn three credits in their respective disciplines.  We can hope that the experience will help them to make or inform better decisions than most of the ones that have been made by planners who have made most of the policies and infrastructure we have here in New York and other American cities.

Is The Future In A Miniloop?

If you are a cycle-commuter, someone is sure to ask, "What do you do when it rains?"

In most places, you have the following choices:

1. Use fenders and raingear (or carry a change of clothes).
2. Get wet.
3. Use other means of transportation.

I'll admit to having used 3.) when it's raining, cold and windy--or during a hard, driving rain when I could hardly see in front of me. I also have used alternative means of transportation--which, for me, here in New York, means the subway--when there was more than a dusting of snow.

Some day the weather excuse won't wash--at least, if architect Richard Moreta has any influence over urban planners.

He has just unveiled his "MINILOOP", an enclosed elevated bikeway designed to snake alongside streets or highways, or cut their own paths through cities.  

Moreta says he has designed MINILOOP to be easily replicated in, and adapted to, different locales:  It can be made open-air for warmer climates and fully enclosed in less hospitable environs.  Most important, though, he believes his design will not only help to reduce the number of motor vehicles used for transportation; they will afford more vertical space for trees and plants to grow and help filter the air.

Will A Ride Report Lead To A Better Bike Lane?

On this blog, I have lamented the poor planning, design and construction of too many bike lanes and other kinds of bike infrastructure.  Some of you have suggested--and I would agree--that it is in large part due to planners who don't understand cycling because, by and large, they don't ride themselves.

If someone doesn't ride, the only accurate information he or she can receive about riding conditions and the needs of cyclists will come from other cyclists.  Of course, the best information of all comes in "real time":  In other words, from records of cyclists as they cycle rather than "snapshots" of who passes through a given point at a given moment.

At least, that seems to be the thinking of transportation planners in--you guessed it--Portland.  They have just signed an agreement with Ride Report, a local tech startup, to share user data with them.  The company's free smartphone application automatically tracks trips and gives users the ability to immediately rate the route's safety, whether it's great, mixed or not so great.

Of course, this cannot provide complete data:  The city has no plans to mandate it for cyclists.  Still, it would almost certainly provide more useful information than taking counts at 280 intersections, as Portland currently does.  Such counts cannot be done continuously and require trained volunteers--who, no matter how good they are, don't always collect precise information.  Moreover, the apps could collect information from cyclists who don't have the time or inclination to attend planning meetings.  

Ride Report says that the data made available will be anonymous.  According to its terms of service, however, it may share demographic data like age or gender if the user agrees, though such agreement is not a requirement for signing up to use the app.

Make what you will of that promise.  As far as I know, no executives of a certain social media company I won't name are involved in the project!

Connecting The Lanes In Rubber City

One of my pet peeves about bike lanes is that, too often, they go to and from nowhere, or they begin or end without warning.  So they are essentially useless for urban cyclists who want to commute or do any sort of utility riding.  Bike lanes like those certainly won't make cycling a viable alternative to driving or even mass transportation, at least for most people.

Well, the folks at Copenhagenize design of Montreal (which actually has a coherent system of lanes) seem to understand.  Best of all, a city here in the good ol' U.S. of A. is hiring them to create a "cycling grid" that will allow cyclists to get to and from their homes, workplaces, schools and places where they shop and enjoy their recreations.

Granted, that city isn't as big as Montreal or Copenhagen--or my beloved Big Apple.  But I couldn't help but to feel good that the Copenhagenize consultants have been brought into the hometown of a favorite bike blogger of mine.

I am talking about Akron, Ohio, were resides one "Retrogrouch".  Mayor Dan Horrigan has announced that a $127,000 grant from the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation will be used to hire the folks at Copenhagenize.  They have agreed to take on the task of connecting the city's existing 25 miles of bike paths and another 16 that are expected to go online soon. 

The biggest challenge, according to the consultants, will be to decide which of the Akron's streets should be conduits for cyclists traveling between the city's major bike trails.  The goal, according to the mayor, is not only tourism, recreation and exercise, but also to make viable routes for bicycle commuters.  

I haven't been to Akron.  But I can't help but to think Horrigan is looking to nearby Pittsburgh, which has made strides in recent years toward becoming a "bike-friendly" city.  Like many other cities, Pittsburgh simply can't build more streets and would be hard-pressed to construct more highways.  And it can hardly fit more vehicular traffic into its streets than it already has.   People in the mayor's office seem to have noticed as much, and how the erstwhile Steel City is becoming a center for higher education, medicine, high technology and other industries that employ educated professionals--in short, a smaller inland version of Boston.  And, also in short, a city full of people who see the practical as well as the psychological and physical benefits of cycling to work or school, or for fun.

Perhaps Mayor Horrigan is thinking about how Akron might transition from being the Rubber City to something else altogether.  Whatever it becomes, it should be welcoming and accomodating to cyclists, according to Horrigan.  "To truly become a bike-friendly city, Akron needs a core network of connected bike lanes that will link our neighborhoods to key destinations and business districts across the city," he said in a press release.  Those lanes need to be "safe and welcoming for all users, and designed with input from the residents and stakeholders they serve," he added.

In Delhi: Getting People To Ride Before It's Too Late

Delhi, like other major cities in developing countries, has an air pollution problem that some are calling a crisis. It's so bad that international players on the cricket field wear masks.

While political parties are playing the "blame game", more than a few people realize that some things must change.  Akash Gupta, the founder of Mobycy--which claims to be India's first dockless bicycle sharing startup system--tells of a report he recently read, which indicated that one of the reasons why people drive or take cabs to work or school is the problem they have with "last mile connectivity".  People can take public transportation, but to actually reach their destinations, they must make switches of transport.  And, the closer they come to their destination, the more likely it is that they will need to switch--whether from one bus line to another or to another mode of transportation entirely.

So, Gupta says, bicycling can offer a solution.  "Cycles should become a norm," he explains, "because they are easy to ride, quick to find, don't let you become dependent on someone else and are also cost effective."  That last point is not lost on businesses, who are finding that making deliveries by bike or e-bike is more effective--because it's faster--in dense city traffic.  

Even as bike share programs and delivery bicycles are becoming more common, and increasing numbers of people are riding for recreation, getting people to trade pistons for pedals in their daily commute has been a difficult task for city planners.  The biggest obstacle for most people is the motorized traffic that planners are trying to reduce.  Many people in Delhi echo a familiar refrain heard in cities all over the globe:  They don't feel safe riding among the cars, trucks and other motorized vehicles--or, more to the point, drivers.   

To that end, bike lanes and other physical infrastructure are being built.  But, as studies have shown, lanes by themselves don't do much to increase the number of bicycle commuters, or cyclists overall.  Vishala Reddy seems to recognize as much.  The founder and Director of Identcity has been behind many projects, such as car-free Tuesdays, to promote cycling during the past decade.  But she says that the real infrastructure consists of attitudes and incentives.  About the former, she says that more respect has to be developed for cyclists on the road.  As for the latter, she believes offices and other workplaces could offer them--and physical infrastructure, such as parking facilities, for cyclists.

Cyclists in Delhi

She and Gupta, unlike too many involved with planning in American cities, recognize that making cycling more appealing and safe is not just something that will make hipsters happy. They understand that their city's economic well-being--and, indeed, its very survival, as well as that of the planet--hinge at least in part on getting people's feet off gas pedals and onto bicycle pedals.  As Gupta warns, "If we don't start using e-vehicles or cycles now, it will be too late."

How A More Accurate "Bicycle Census" Could Save Lives

There are a number of reasons why too many bike infrastructure projects--including any number of bike lanes I've ridden--do little or nothing to make cycling safer or more convenient.  If anything, some of those projects--including lanes that lead cyclists straight into the path of turning vehicles or merging traffic--put cyclists in more danger than they'd experience if they rode in traffic.

One reason why so many bike infrastructure projects are ill-conceived, -planned or -executed is that, too often, planners have an inaccurate idea--or no idea at all--of how many cyclists are riding along a particular route or at a given time.  As often as not, planners have only a rough guesstimate of how many people ride per day, month or year.

One reason for that is the planners' methods and equipment for gathering data are designed to give accurate counts of motorized, but not cycling or pedestrian, traffic.  That is at least somewhat understandable:  After all, cars, trucks and buses are easier to detect, whether by humans or devices, than cyclists or pedestrians.  Also, most planners are educated and trained to collect, and pay attention to, "big data"--and their experience reinforces that bias.

"Little data", if you will, is especially relevant in regards to cycling because cyclists--whether they're riding to work, or for fitness or pleasure--take a greater variety of routes and have a wider range of destinations than most drivers.  While one can find clusters of cyclists in certain parts of a city, and along certain routes and certain times, those of us who pedal aren't clustered to the same degree as those who go where they want or must by putting a foot on the gas pedal.

Some researchers in Texas are  aware of what I am describing.  They are working on a pilot program, backed by the Texas Department of Transportation, to find more "nuanced data", in the words of Greg Griffin, about cycling and walking in Austin and Houston.   

The goal, says Griffin, is to better inform, among other things, Austin's corridor project, which will build lanes along nine roads.   That project received funding from the mobility bond Texas voters chose last year, but the City Council hasn't approved construction plans.  A draft of those plans is expected to go before the City Council next year and Griffin, a Texas A&M researcher, hopes to better inform the project and others like it.

He and other researchers are trying a number of methods to count cyclists, such as gathering data from Strava and other apps.  Of course, not all cyclists use them, so Griffin and his team are also installing pneumatic tubes similar to the ones used to count cars along roads frequently used by cyclists.  Those tubes, however, last only a few weeks, so he is trying to have permanent counters installed and recruiting cyclists and others to interview cyclists about their riding habits.

A variety of methods must be used, he says, because using only one would skew the results toward one type of cyclist over another.  For example, merely taking data from apps, he says, would result in "planning for people that are buying apps--instead of your community."

 He and others hope that better methods of taking a cycling census, if you will, will help to lay a "foundation for being able to save lives through infrastructure changes."

What Will They Accomplish By Cracking Down On The "Chop Shops"?

At least a few of my rides have included stops at flea markets.  

So why are they called "flea markets"?

Well, it's a translation of "marche aux puces", the name given to an outdoor bazaar at the Porte de Clignancourt, on Paris' northern edge.  It's been operating there since some time around 1880.

So why is it called the "marche aux puces"?  It was often said--sometimes, with justification--that items, particularly upholstery, sold there were infested with fleas.  

Not long before the market began to operate, the straight, wide boulevards lined with sandstone-colored buildings one sees all over the City of Light were first constructed.  To make way for them, old buildings on narrow, winding streets were demolished.  This left a residue of old furniture and other items out in the open, where they could have been infested with vermin.

There is another reason why people might have thought those items were infested with fleas:  The folks who salvaged them were, as often as not, themselves infested.  Not surprisingly, when Georges-Eugene, Baron Haussmann, executed Napoleon III's vision for modernising Paris, it left many Parisians homeless or simply destitute.*  During the city's transitional period, many such people had few, if any, other ways to generate income.

Homeless people all over the world continue to "pick up the pieces", if you will, all over the world.  In my hometown of New York, I have seen them selling everything from corsets to computers, from books to barbed wire.  And, of course, many pick up soda and beer bottles and cans, which they can recycle for 5 cents each, from trash bins.

In San Francisco, that city of entrepreneurs, it seems that some of the homeless have become small-time operators in the bike business:  They operate what detractors call "chop shops" from underneath bridge and highway overpasses and other semi-enclosed public spaces.  

While even homeless advocates admit that some of the bikes are stolen, the majority are the fruits of dumpster-diving, scavenging on the streets or barter.  Usually, the homeless or poor people who operate these pop-up bike shops fix up the bikes they sell or trade, or assemble bikes from parts found in various places or stripped from other bikes. 

Most of the complaints the city receives regarding these operations are not about the shops, per se:  Most people don't have a problem with people doing whatever they have to do to put food in their mouths.  Rather, many residents say that these vagabond mechanics spread their wares across sidewalks, bike paths and sometimes even into streets, making it impossible or simply dangerous to navigate.   

With that in mind, the city's Board of Supervisors is expected to pass a bill that would prohibit anyone from storing or selling the following on any public street, sidewalk or right-of-way:

• five or more complete bicycles
• a bicycle frame with its gear or brake cables cut
• three or more bicycles with missing parts
• five or more bicycle parts.

The prohibition would not apply to anyone who has a commercial license (which, of course, includes almost no homeless person) or a permit for an event like a bike rally or clinic.  The bill gives the Public Works Department authority to seize items deemed to be in violation of the code. If the owner of the items doesn't allow the PWD to seize the items, police officers can be called in.  And, the owner can appeal to have the items returned 30 days after the seizure and notice of violation.

Not surprisingly, small business associations support this bill, mainly because the "chop shops" often impede access to stores, cafes and other establishments.  Bike shops are among such small businesses, and support the bill for the same reason.  Interestingly, though, none seems to have made an argument that these shops are taking business away from them because of their lower prices, probably because people who would buy (or barter for) bikes from "chop shops" weren't going to buy their bikes in a bike shop anyway.

Also not surprisingly, this bill is adamantly opposed by homeless advocates, civil liberties organizations and the Democratic Socialist party.  Most interesting of all, though, is a letter of opposition penned by Jeremy Pollock. He writes as a ten-year member of the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition who, as he says, has had bikes and parts stolen and recovered a "ghost bike" from a homeless encampment.  

He effectively makes a point that the bill, should it become law, could violate the Fourth Amendment of the US Constitution.  He also decries the lack of collaboration between the city government and its citizens (especially cyclists) in drafting and voting on the bill.  

Pollock also expresses concern that enforcing such a mandate could make the already-challenging  jobs of DPW workers who clear homeless encampments even more difficult by making already-strained relationships between those workers and the residents of homeless encampments even more tense and hostile.  This will put a further strain on the DPW's resources, and will stretch the police department and criminal justice system even thinner than it already is.

Oh, and if the San Francisco Police Department is stretched thinner, it will dedicate even less manpower and fewer resources than it does to combat bike theft.  As it is, the Department--like others across the country--simply doesn't regard bike theft as a priority.  And, if it wants to combat bike theft, according to Pollock, "we don't need this cumbersome new notice of violation, we need SFPD to focus on catching bike thieves!"

*To be fair, Haussmann's work also made it possible, for the first time, to navigate Paris with relative ease, which helped Paris to grow as a commercial as well as cultural center.  When he widened the streets, he also added sidewalks, which made Paris the walkable city it is today. Moreover, his plan included other public works, including sewers, which greatly improved sanitation and the health of people, as well as a series of public parks and gardens.

Then again, he also made it all but impossible to mount an insurrection in Paris by widening and straightening those streets that could previously be barricaded--or used as escape routes by people who knew them.