Bike Lane Follies, Here And Down Under

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you might have noticed that I am not enthusiastic, in general, about bike lanes. 

A separate bike lane, especially one that runs alongside traffic, is not intrinsically safer for cyclists than a traffic lane on a typical city or suburban street.  The biggest flaw in most bike lanes I've seen and ridden is that they're positioned so that it's all but impossible for cyclists, especially inexperienced ones, to turn or cross safely at major intersections.  This is particularly true for those lanes that, in effect, turn into the right-turn lane for motor vehicles at such intersections, or for those streets that have right-turn-only lanes that cross the bike lane.  Things are even worse for a cyclist making a left turn at such an intersection, as he or she must cross several lanes of traffic coming from different directions.  This particular hazard is exacerbated when traffic flows off a highway into the intersection.

There are also other hazards, such as pedestrians who use the bike lanes as sidewalks or who wander onto them while they're texting or talking on their phones.  Two of the worst lanes I've experienced for that are the portion of Manhattan's First Avenue lane below (south of) 14th Street and Brooklyn's Kent Avenue lane (the one that skirts the Williamsburg waterfront).  Both lanes are lined with stores, restaurants, clubs and bars.  The clubs and bars pose particular hazards, especially during evenings and weekends, with patrons staggering out to the lanes.  But even shoppers and restaurant-goers too often aren't paying attention to their surroundings as they walk, and sometimes talk, with others.  And, of course, the drinkers, shoppers and restaurant-goers often leave debris in the lane.

Not to mention the drivers who steer their vans and trucks into the lanes to make deliveries at those establishments--or the driver who  pulls in mistakenly, to make a turn or, on rare occasion, out of sheer malice.  And, yes, police officers who their cruisers in the lanes while they're having coffee.

But even worse than the hazards I've mentioned or lanes that are poorly-designed (or -constructed or -maintained) are those that are built in ignorance or defiance of regulations governing them.  One such lane is found in Melbourne, Australia:



Apparently, according to Austroad's guidelines (see p. 30, Figure 4.27) a bike lane should be 1.2 to 1.5 meters wide and be separated from the parking lane by a strip 0.4 to 1.0 meters wide.  The bike lane in the video clearly does not follow that principle.

A few years ago, I was "doored" in a similar lane not far from my apartment in Queens.  The marked bike lane was not in any way separated from the parking lane to the right of it.  Fortunately for me, I did not take a full facial hit; I took a glancing blow that left me looking like I was pregnant on one side for a couple of weeks.

Now, from what I understand, Austroad's guidelines are not law or in-any-other-way-binding policy, so perhaps the designer of the lane in the video was (in addition to a non-cyclist, most likely) possibly ignorant of them. 

Similarly, the Department of Transportation here in New York City has guidelines for bike lanes (pp.55-59) but they are essentially unenforceable.  To be fair, those guidelines include some of the flaws I have pointed out in this and other posts.  However, the guidelines call for physical barriers between two-way bike lanes and arterial streets, in addition to clear markings between one-way bike lanes and narrower streets.  I have ridden on bike lanes that fail to meet those criteria.  And, worse, those lanes include some of the other design flaws I've mentioned, particularly when it comes to turns and merges--or, worst of all, bike lanes that suddenly disappear.

The thing that rankles me most, though, is that even such dry technical documents as the ones issued by the Department of Transportation continue to blithely tout the "benefits" of bike lanes for cyclists as well as motorists.    A poorly-designed or -constructed bike lane helps no one and, if anything, only fuels anger and resentments between motorists and cyclists.
 

Spinning Your Wheels To Make A Wheel

Two and a half years ago, I wrote a post about a bicycle wheel that looked as if it could have been drawn with a Spirograph set.

 

If you're of my generation, you might have had one.  It consisted of toothed wheels and bars used to draw various kinds of roulette curves.  The drawings that came out of it looked like some "dream catchers", wind chimes, stained-glass windows--and, yes, bicycle wheels--you've seen.

I don't remember whether I (or my brothers and I) got the Spirograph or the Etch-a-Sketch first.  But, for a time, we had both--that is, until the screen broke on the Etch-a-Sketch. (I still miss it sometimes!) I don't know what happened to the Spirograph set, but as I recall, we had it for a long time.  If memory serves, my brothers were still using it when I went away to college.

As I mentioned in my earlier post, not only some bicycles and wheels, but various accessories and art installations made from them, look like they could have been drawn with one of my favorite toys.

Here is another:

Not Monet: Vladimir Gusev

The first time I saw this painting

I said to myself, "I didn't know Monet painted that."

Now, I have never claimed to be an expert on the seminal Impressionist painter.  I can say, however, that I probably am more familiar with his work than the average layperson.  At least, I know enough to know that not all of his images are of waterlilies on ponds, lovely as those are.

And I know enough to tell a Monet from a Manet--and, certainly, from a Sisley, Pisarro, Renoir, Degas or Gaugin.  Still, I had to wonder, "Why did I never see this in any of the books--or in the Musee d'Orsay?

The first vehicles most of us would identify as bicycles--or semblances of them--were created early in Monet's life.  The high-wheeler or penny-farthing came along when he was coming into his own as an artist; the "safety" bicycle would be invented in the middle of his life, when he was becoming his most productive and innovative.  And the "bike boom" that seized most of the Western world (and Japan) at the end of the 19th Century and the beginning of the 20th coincided with his etudes of the Rouen Cathedral and his early Giverny work.  So it's certainly not inconceivable that a bicycles would appear in Monet paintings--or, for that matter, works by any of his contemporaries.

But, as far as I know, there are no velocipedes in any of his work.  This painting--of his son, Jean, on a hobby-horse--is about as close as he comes to including a bicycle in anything he did:

The artist whom I mistook for Monet, however, has graced quite a few canvases with his depictions of two-wheelers and the people--women and girls, mainly--who ride, or at least accompany, them.

And I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out more paintings with two-wheelers in them.  Yes, the artist in question is very much alive and working:  Vladimir Gusev.

If his name sounds familiar, it probably means you've been reading this blog.  In a bizarre coincidence, he shares his name with the unfortunate cyclist who--in my opinion, anyway--had his career ruined by the hypocrisy and mendacity of Johan Bruyneel, the directeur sportif of Astana, who threw him under the bus after the Union Cycliste Internationale (UCI) threatened to ban the team (and defending maillot jersey winner Alberto Contador) from participating in the Tour de France after doping allegations. 

Yes, we're talking about the same Johan Bruyneel who managed someone named Lance Armstrong on something called the US Postal Service team.  And, yes, the same UCI that looked the other way when Lance was winning but forced Gusev to drop his suit against them in order to continue his career.

The painter Gusev, of course, has nothing to do with any of that.  And the bicycles and cyclists in his paintings seem worlds away from the scandal-ridden milieu of professional racing.

Happy Mother's Day

I'll admit:  I wasn't always the best kid in the world.  I certainly wasn't the most obedient.  (Confession:  I still take some pride in that!)  Then again, as a rabbi pointed out to me, "The Fifth Commandment says, 'Honor thy mother and father.'  It doesn't say 'obey'."

Of course, that rabbi wasn't saying that I, or anyone else, should be a defiant child.  But he emphasized honor.  And, well, I can say I've tried to do that.  Really, I have.

The thing is, my mother knows that.  She knows now that even when I've done things she wished I hadn't, I wasn't trying to hurt or dishonor, let alone disrespect, her.  She knows there are some things I could only but do.  And she has supported me in what I needed to do.

Does she realize that I see cycling as one of those things I need to do?  Possibly:  She has encouraged me to do it, whether or not I needed encouraging. (She has never been a cyclist herself.) And, in the other things in which I needed encouragement--especially the biggest change I ever made--she has stood with me when others wouldn't.

My mother doesn't do computers, and probably never will.  However, my father might be reading this.  If he is, he will probably show it to her.  So, Mom:  Happy Mother's Day. And thank you.

(Both images are from Eleanor's NYC.)

She Didn't Need A Miracle. Neither Did I.

I've been to Lourdes.

No, I wasn't looking for a miracle cure--not even for the conflicts that raged within me.  In fact, I never planned to go there:  I just happened to pass through.

Back in 2000, I took a ride from France into Spain and back, through the Pyrenees.  Yes, I pedaled up Tourmalet, Hautaucam, Aspin, Portillon and Peyresourde, all of which have been part of the Tour de France at one time or another.  But I also pedaled through some cities and towns full of history and culture, including Toulouse (where I started) and Foix.  And, of course, Lourdes.

Now, I didn't think that a visit to the shrine would do anything that a good masseuse couldn't.  Still, I figured it would be interesting to stop there.  Even with all of the hawkers selling the tackiest souvenirs imaginable, it's lovely and charming--and offers some rather stunning vistas of the mountains and river valleys, not to mention great cycling.

The latter is known to many, including Rachel Atherton.  However, the ride she did is, let's say, just a little different from what I did: