Why Is A Cyclist More 100 Times More Likely To Be Killed In Florida Than In New Hampshire?

Once again, Florida has more cycling fatalities per million residents than any other US state. The Sunshine State has 23.3 million residents, so its rate of 10.4 translates to 242 fatalities per year.

Florida's rate is 11 percent higher than that of second-deadliest Louisiana. New Mexico, South Carolina and Arizona round out the "top" five states for cycling rate fatalities.  At the other end of the table, the five "safest" states for cyclists-- Wyoming, Vermont, Alaska, Rhode Island and New Hampshire--all have about the same rate (0.1 per million), or less than one percent of Florida's.

Do you notice some patterns?

The states with the lowest rates are in New England (Vermont, Rhode Island and New Hampshire) or are far-western (or northern) states (Wyoming and Alaska) where outdoor recreation is popular.  The deadliest states for cyclists are all car-centric and in the "Sunbelt."

To be fair, none of the "safest" states has a city comparable in size to, say, Miami, Phoenix or even New Orleans.  Then again, the New England states have small-to-medium-sized cities with significant populations of college students.  Those cities are also older cities , developed before the automobile.  

 So what, aside from geographical clustering and (to a lesser degree, demographics) do the least dangerous states have share?  And what traits do the most perilous states have in common?

From the website of Christopher G. Burns, Esq. 

According to an article in Legal Reader, the following are among the factors contribute to the relative calm or perilousness of cycling in a particular state:

--Infrastructure Deficiencies.  The authors of the article weren't talking about cycling infrastructure.  Rather, they refer to wide, high-speed roads that are common in the "deadly" states.  Perhaps more important, they also mention planning, in and out of urban areas, that is auto-centric. Thus--as I can attest from my experiences of cycling in Florida and South Carolina--it is all but impossible to go from one place to another without using a "stroad," which often have high-speed lanes connecting them to major highways.  Navigating one of those entry and exit points makes crossing Times Square seem like a stroll on a bridge over a theme-park "stream."

--Rural vs. Urban Risk Factors:  While urban areas account for 83 percent of total bike fatalities, rural areas actually have higher per-capita rates because of the factors I mentioned my previous paragraph.  One reason is that some large cities have at least a skeleton of bike infrastructure and--as I can attest from many years of cycling in New York--lower vehicle speeds make fatalities less likely:  A cyclist struck by a car traveling at 40 MPH (65 K/H) has an 85 percent chance of dying, but only 25 percent if the vehicle is going at 20 MPH (32.5 K/H). 

--Legal Frameworks:   States and other jurisdictions with lower fatality rates also tend to have laws that truly promote cycling safety, such as the Idaho Stop or its variants, and enforce other laws and policies such as those against distracted driving.  Also, some of the "safer" states have Vulnerable Road User laws, which impose stricter penalties for motorists who cause harm to cyclists and pedestrians.

In addition to better urban and suburban planning, bicycle infrastructure and better laws (and enforcement), the authors also call for, among other things, mandatory bicycle awareness education in drivers' licensing programs.  I think it's a good idea because one difference I notice between cycling in the US (even in "bicycle friendly" places) and Europe is that drivers are more conscious of, and courteous to, cyclists.  Some countries have the bicycle awareness training the authors call for, but even in the places that don't, motorists see us differently because many are also cyclists, or were in their recent pasts.

Will They Stop The “Idaho Stop?”

In 1982 Idaho passed a law allowing cyclists to, in essence, to treat a red light as a “Stop” sign and a “Stop” sign as a “Yield” sign.  This piece of legislation made cycling both safer and more efficient:  It allowed cyclists to proceed through intersections ahead of turning vehicles and to keep up their rhythm.

At the time the law—now commonly called the “Idaho Stop”—was enacted, it was went almost unnoticed. That may have to do with the fact that the Gem State was, and is, one of the least-populated in the USA. Also, I suspect that there weren’t many transportation or even recreational cyclists there four decades ago. I haven’t been there, but I suspect that most adult cyclists were passing through (and enjoying the scenery) as part of an inter-state or transcontinental tour.

Ironically, planners and legislators finally took notice of a law passed in a mostly-rural state when current “bicycle culture “ developed about 25 to 30 years later, when jurisdictions from Portland, Oregon to Paris, France adopted versions of it.

Now, one has to wonder whether the “Idaho Stop” will survive in its namesake state.

Boise, the state’s largest city, is part of Ada county. Its highway district (ACHD) currently consists of five commissioners, all elected. Cyclists seem satisfied with the arrangement.  The cynic in me says that’s the reason why there’s a bill moving through the state legislature that would add two new commissioners—one appointed by the governor, the other by the commissioners themselves.

Some in the local cycling community fear that the law, if passed, could tilt the ACHD in tonmore anti-bike position and stall, or end, bicycle infrastructure creation and improvement.

While a governor’s appointment might not seem to have much immediate impact, there is fear that it could have outsized influence on the current commissioners and the election of future commissioners.  Such a fear is not unfounded in one of the most Republican—and pro-Fake Tan Führer—states in the nation. While previous Republican lawmakers in the state and nation seemed to take a laissez-faire attitude toward cycling and cyclists, too many current party leaders (and members), taking their cues from FTF, are openly hostile to us.

I just hope the “Idaho Stop” won’t be stopped—in the place of its birth or anywhere else.

Why Do They—And We—Break Traffic Laws?

For a time, I belonged to a church that propagated the belief that we inevitably sin because we are innately sinners. I wondered whether that logic applies to secular law: Do we break laws because we are inherently criminals?

Although I believe the answer is “no,” I can understand why some people would think otherwise. At least one study indicates that the average person breaks a law every day. As often as not, the offenses are unintentional. But why do otherwise upstanding citizens have, shall we say, moments when they don’t play by one rule or another?

The answer, I guess, is that it depends on the situation, which rule or regulation is being flouted or ignored, and why.  An Idaho (Now you know where this is going if you’ve been reading my blog regularly!) survey of road users indicates as much.

According to that survey, 95.9 percent of cyclists reported breaking a traffic law. That is only slightly less than the 97.9 percent of pedestrians and 99.97 percent of drivers who admitted to doing the same.

What distinguishes cyclists from pedestrians and motorists, however, are their motivations for law-breaking. While 85 percent of drivers and 71 percent of foot-travelers said they broke or ignored traffic regulations to save time, 71 percent of bicycle riders said they skirted a rule for their own safety.

That statistic is part of an argument advocates in California and other states are making for the adoption of the so-called Idaho Stop. Since 1982, the Gem State has allowed cyclists to proceed through a “Stop” sign if there is no cross-traffic at the intersection.  Since then, a number of states and other jurisdictions in the US and Europe have adopted it or similar policies.

Photo by Melanie Curry for Streetsblog CA

Studies indicate that allowing cyclists to, in essence, treat a “stop” sign as a “yield” sign has a somewhat positive or, at worst, neutral effect on safety for cyclists, pedestrians and motorists. 

Authors of those studies, however, also recommend that instruction about the “Idaho Stop” and its benefits be included in driver’s education courses and manuals. The reason for that is simple: In spite of those studies—and testimonies from cyclists like me—many drivers and law enforcement officers believe that the “Idaho Stop” leads to reckless, lawless cycling. As any cyclist can tell you, proceeding through an intersection ahead of traffic flowing in the same direction is safer for everyone involved, assuming there is no cross traffic. For one thing, it all but eliminates the chance that a cyclist will be hit by a right-turning vehicle and greatly reduces the risk of being struck from behind or by oncoming drivers making a left turn. It also reduces the likelihood of a cyclist striking a pedestrian.

Most of the jurisdictions that have legalized the “Idaho Stop” or similar legislation did so during the half-decade or so before the COVID-19 pandemic. Since then, attempts to enshrine it in California, my home state of New York and other places have been stalled or halted largely because of panic about eBike safety. That concern grew in part because of electric motorcycles illegally sold as eBikes (which, in most cities and states, don’t require permits or licenses) and because the use of legal and illegal machines grew exponentially as delivery-app services swelled in popularity. Consumers demand fast deliveries; app companies make delivery workers, most of whom are immigrants, work under unrealistic time frames. 

The result?  Delivery workers who run red lights and ignore traffic signs —so that Buffy and Dane can get their sushi in ten minutes. And cyclists like me have to break a rule or two to keep from getting hit by them.

It Doesn’t Cause Us To Misbehave

 Allowing cyclists to proceed through a “stop” sign if “the coast is clear”—essentially, treating a “stop” as a “yield” sign—is called a “rolling stop” in traffic planning and legal parlance. It’s been nicknamed the “Idaho Stop” because the Gem State legalized it all the way back in 1982. 

For more than three decades, that law was all but unknown in the rest of the United States. Since 2017, seven other states—my native New York not being one of them!—have enacted similar legislation.

One reason more states and locales* haven’t allowed the “Idaho Stop” is that many drivers believe that it would cause cyclists to act un safely, and some cyclists have expressed the same fear about motorists. So, perhaps, it’s not surprising that too many lawmakers share such misperceptions, which are the basis for their opposition.

A new study from the Oregon State University’s College of Engineering contradicts such fears and misperceptions, which are a basis of much hostility between motorists and cyclists, and aggressive behavior by the former towards the latter. Thus, according to David Hurwitz, an OSU Transportation Engineering professor and the study’s lead, any move to enact “rolling stop” laws must include efforts to educate both motorists and cyclists.

He and his team came to this conclusion after a remarkably simple experiment that included bicycle and motor vehicle simulators. Pairs of subjects simultaneously operated each simulator and each member of the pair interacted with an avatar of the other in a shared virtual world.

The results underscored a tenet from previous research: Drivers are more hostile, and behave more aggressively toward, cyclists when they think, with or without justification, that we’re breaking the law. That means people need to be educated about the benefits of the “Idaho Stop” not only in places that don’t allow it, but in places that already have it.

The OSU team’s study also underscores what every dedicated cyclist, especially in places like my hometown of New York, knows:  The faster we get through an intersection, the less likely we are to be in a catastrophic crash. And, as the OSU study reveals, when drivers understand as much, they’re more likely to approach an intersection at a slower speed and let cyclists proceed ahead of them.

I think education has to include law enforcement officials, especially traffic cops—including one who stopped me for going through a “Stop” sign on Long Island. As I recall, it was near the end of the month and he had an itchy ticket-writing hand. I explained to the honorable constable that my proceeding ahead of a school bus—which made a right turn— was safer for everyone, including the pedestrians who crossed after the bus driver and I cleared the intersection. He didn’t write the ticket, but he admonished me to “remember the law” because “the next officer might not be sympathetic.”

*—A few cities and counties allow the “Idaho Stop” even though they’re located in states that don’t.

Women Ride In Copenhagen. Why Not Here?

In an earlier post, I wrote about how women's greater propensity for obeying the law--or simply our risk-adverseness--actually puts us at greater risk of injury and death while cycling.

In that post, I wrote about how the "Idaho Stop" could help to close that "gap."  Briefly, the "Idaho Stop"--so named because the Gem State legalized it all the way back in 1982--allows cyclists to treat red lights like "Stop" signs and "Stop" signs like "Yield" signs.  In other words, cyclists can proceed through a red light if there is no cross-traffic in the intersection.  That allows cyclists to proceed through the intersection ahead of any traffic--including right-turning trucks and buses--that might be following them.

I got to thinking about that in reading Cara Eckholm's comparison of bicycle commuting in Copenhagen, where she spent her early twenties, and New York, where she currently resides.  She points out that in the Danish capital, female cyclists actually outnumber their male counterparts, but on the Big Apple streets, men outnumber women on bikes by a factor of three to one, even though women outnumber men in "spin" and other indoor cycling.

Some of that difference, she contends, has to do with the state of bicycle infrastructure in each city (and country).  Studies show that women's participation in cycling tends to increase when there are more protected lanes and other cycling infrastructure. But she also believes that the cultural norms around gender and cycling are perhaps more important.  As an example, she cites reports--and I can attest--that drivers are more likely to encroach on a female cyclist's space that that of a male rider's.  

Moreover, women are far more likely to be using their bikes to ferry their children to school or ballet or soccer practice, or to shop or do household errands, than men are.  For such riding and riders, the monocoque carbon frames and spandex riding outfits featured in most ad and p.r. campaigns aren't very practical.  Eckholm contends that showing women--whether on city, cargo or e-bikes--in non-bike clothing with their kids, groceries, books or other items that don't fit in a jersey pocket would probably encourage more women--and members of racial and ethnic minorities--to think, "Hey, I can ride a bike!"

Illustration of "New Woman" by F. Opper in Puck magazine, 1895.  From the Library of Congress.

That is more or less the image cycling has in places like Copenhagen.  And, ironically, it harkens back to the images of the 1890s that showed proud, confident women in their "bloomers" and derby hats astride two wheels.  

No Lump Of Coal In Their De-Feet Socks

Senator Joe Manchin may be doing more than anyone in the United States to perpetuate an obsolete industry:  coal mining and energy.

That's not surprising given that he represents West Virginia, the second-leading coal-producing state in the US.  

What's also not surprising is that in 2008, when the League of American Bicyclists issued its first reports of states' bicycle-friendliness, the Mountain State ranked dead last.  In 2019, when LAB released its last pre-pandemic report, West Virginia had moved up to 34th.

Now it's 28th, right in the middle of the pack.  The LAB rates each state in five areas:  Infrastructure & Funding, Education & Encouragement, Traffic Laws & Practices, Policies & Programs and Education & Planning.  In the first and last categories, WV got a B- and C+, respectively, and a C in each of the other categories.  One area in which the state seriously lags behind others is in the percentage of commuters who bike to work:  It's about half the national average and, at 47th, near the bottom of the list.

Massachusetts was named the most bike-friendly state.  My home state, New York, ranks 13th and, being New York, it ranks very well in most areas but very poorly in others.  In Infrastructure & Funding and Education & Encouragement, the Empire State got an A-.  In Policies & Programs and Evaluation & Planning, it earned a B+. But on Traffic Laws & Practices, it rates an F+. (As an educator, I have to ask:  What's the difference between a D-, which I've given once or twice as a grade, and an F+, which I don't think I've ever given.)  I am not surprised, really:  If the rest of the state is anything like the NYC Metro area, I can say that the state is doing the things policy makers think they're supposed to do to promote cycling:  starting education programs, building lanes and such.  But the laws and, more important, law enforcement, have not kept pace:  We are one of 11 states without a safe-passing law and we don't have the "Idaho Stop," or any version of it. 

Also, I have to say that for all that's been spent on bike lanes, the folks who conceive, plan, design and build them seem to have no better an idea than their counterparts of 50 years ago had about what makes for a good bike lane:  It has to be useful, free of hazards and planned so that it's actually safer than riding in traffic.  None that I've ridden are structured in a way that a cyclist can cross an intersection without having to worry about being struck by a turning motorist.

On the whole, the LAB's rankings don't surprise me much:  After the Bay State, Oregon and Washington rank second and third, respectively. All of the states ranked from 30th to 50th, with the exception of New Hampshire (34th) are south of the Potomac or west of the Mississippi.  

Which state ranks last?  Wyoming, the nation's leading coal producer. 

Death At An Intersection Of Choices

A few years ago, I taught a "capstone" course, required of graduating students, about the Bronx.  It seemed to make sense, as the college is located in the borough--in the heart of the poorest U.S. Congressional District, in the South Bronx--and most students live there.  As much as I tried to make it interesting and relevant, students were less than unenthusiastic:  They saw the course as one more thing standing between them and graduation.

If they've forgotten me, the projects they did (or didn't do), the class itself and the college, I hope they remember one lesson that, I believe, the course reinforced: Everything they lived with, good and bad, in the Bronx was the result of decisions made by human beings.  Sometimes their motives were nefarious, but at other times they were simply misguided.

Fahrad Manjoo makes that point today in a New York Times editorial, "Bike Riding In America Should Not Be This Dangerous."  In his essay, he briefly recounts how urban and transportation has prioritized the "speedy movement of vehicles over the safety of everyone else on our streets.  He doesn't get much into specifics--whole books have been written about that--but that governing principle took hold well before the high priest of auto-centricity, Robert Moses, started his work.

Manjoo's editorial was motivated by the death of 13-year-old Andre Retana at a Mountain View, California intersection that is an "asphalt-and-concrete love letter to cars."  On two corners stand gas stations; America's Tire occupies a third and the fourth is taken up with a BMW dealership.  "To keep traffic humming along," he writes, "motorists on all of its corners are allowed to turn right on red lights."

The intersectio of El Camino Real and Grant Road, Montain View, CA. The "ghost" bike commemorates Andre Retana, who died here.  Photo by Mark Da

As I have pointed out in other posts, such an arrangement endangers cyclists--when they follow the traffic signals as motorists are required to do.  A cyclist at the corner of an intersection is vulnerable to a right-turning vehicle, especially a truck--or an SUV (which I call "trucks for people who don't know how to drive them")--makes a turn. 

To be fair, most truck drivers, especially the long-distance variety, courteous and conscientious.  On the other hand, their vehicles are particurly hazardous for two reasons.  One is that because their vehicles are so large, they sometimes veer into pedestrian and cyclists' paths, or even onto sidewalks, especially on narrow streets in dense urban areas. The other is sight lines, or lack thereof: Drivers sit so far away from everything else on the street that they simply can't see someone crossing a street.

Those factors, and the right to turn right on red, contributed to Andre Retana's death.  The truck driver came to a complete stop at the instruction.  Andre pulled up alongside him.  In an unfortunate twist, he fell off his bike in the crosswalk near the front of the truck--at the very moment the driver, who didn't see him, decided it was safe turn.

The driver didn't realize he'd struck the boy until bystanders flagged him down. Andre suffered severe injuries and died a short time later in the hospital.

Manjoo points out that the intersection, not surprisingly, doesn't have a "box" or safe area where cyclists and pedestrians can wait, and neither of the streets leading to it--El Camino Real and Grant Road--has a protected bike lanes.  But, as much as I respect him for pointing out the dangers-by-design, he seems to share the same misguided thinking behind too many schemes to make cycling safer:  That more bike lanes and other "infrastructure" will do the job and that planning future roads with built-in bike lanes will help.

As I've pointed out in other posts, too many bike lanes are poorly conceived, planned and constructed:  They go from nowhere to nowhere and actually put cyclists in more danger.  Staggered signals, which Manjoo also recommends, could also help.   Moreover, he says that while transitioning from gasoline- to renewable energy-powered vehicles will help for health and environmental reasons, we really need to find ways to get people out of SUVs and into smaller cars.  And, while he doesn't say as much, it could also help to re-design trucks with better sight lines.

But, as I've pointed out in other posts, other changes, like legalizing some form of the "Idaho Stop," are also needed.  Most of all, though, I believe--as Manjoo seems to--that the way transportation is conceived has to change.   Not only are new street and vehicle designs and regulations needed, things like the tax structure, have to change.  Most people don't realize just how much driving is subsidized--yes, in the US to the point that the worst car choices and driving habits are rewarded.

None of the needed changes will bring back Andre Retana.  But they might prevent future tragedies like his--and make cities and societies more livable.  Such changes can only come about by choice--just as all of the mistakes that led to a 13-year-old boy's death were.

  

 

  

Is The Idaho Stop A Racial Justice Issue?

In previous posts, I have advocated "Idaho Stop," which allows cyclists to roll through stop signs at empty intersections and to treat stoplights as "stop" signs.  As the name indicates, it was first codified into law in The Gem State--in 1982. Despite proof that it does more than almost anything else to promote cycling safety--after all, an intersection is the most dangerous place for a cyclist--it's been slow to spread to other jurisdictions. 

Now, Colorado might be ready to join them.  A few cities and towns within the Centennial State have already legalized it, or modified versions of it.  But a bill that would allow the "Idaho Stop" statewide is about to go to Governor Jared Polis' desk, having passed both the state's House and Senate.  A spokesman for the Governor did not say whether or not he'll sign it.

Massimo Alpian hopes he does.  A lifelong cyclist, he surely understands how such a law will help to make cycling safer by reducing the risk of, say, being clipped by a right-turning vehicle in front of him.  But the also believes the "Idaho stop" could be a racial justice issue.

Photo by Hart Van Denberg, from CPR News

Years ago, he recalls, he was riding blazing down a road near Boulder.  Three cyclists in front of him shot through a "Stop" sign.  He followed, "right around the same speed," he says.  Then "I was pulled over and ticketed," he recounts.

Now, some might say that as officers in such situations are wont to do, they went after the "low hanging fruit," i.e., the last cyclist in a line.  But Alpian, all of these years later, still wonder whether something else was at play.  You see, he is the son of immigrants from Latin America and the Middle East.  The three cyclists in front of him were Caucasian.  

I get the impression that his diplomacy skills are better than mine.  He says he was "confused" as to why he was targeted. "If I was doing something blatantly egregious, sure, I'd feel bad that maybe I was breaking the law or putting other folks at risk."  But what he did would have been perfectly legal under an "Idaho Stop" regulation and, law or no law, put nobody at risk.  So, it's hard to blame him for harboring any thought that he was stopped because of his brown skin.

That, he says, is one reason why he wants Governor Polis to sign the bill into law.

I wonder whether the cops who stopped him went on to become Senators from Texas and Tennessee.

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.

Safe Bike Parking In The “Other” Portland

An important part of encouraging people to commute—or simply to ride—is to make the experience safe.

That means, among other things, creating practical, well-maintained bicycle infrastructure. Bike lanes—again, with the emphasis on practical and well-maintained—are part of such a system.  So are laws and policies (like the “Idaho stop”) that actually make sense rather than merely mimic motor vehicle or pedestrian codes.  Education, for the general public as well as cyclists, is also vital.

But an often-overlooked part of cycling safety is security for the bicycle itself.  I’ve known a few people who gave up on cycling after parking their wheels—sometimes in the “bike rooms” of their co-op buildings—and never seeing them again.

The Bicycle Coalition of Maine understands as much. That is why they are teaming with the Sierra Nevada Brewing Company to make valet bicycle parking available at 11 Thompson’s Point concerts in the “other” Portland.

I hope that this is a sign the idea is spreading.  When the Metropolitan Museum re-opened last year, I was as happy to see valet bike parking there as I was to see an extremely interesting exhibit of early Japanese art!

Must More Riding Mean More Fatalities?

In a coincidence that, perhaps, isn't such a coincidence, I chanced upon an item about an increase in the number of cyclists killed on Texas roads at the same time a local radio news program mentioned that pedestrian fatalities here in New York City have increased during the past year.

I have also seen and heard reports of increases in the number of cyclists killed and injured on New York City streets.  So, hearing about pedestrian fatalities here and cyclists killed in the Lone Star State did not surprise me because cyclist and pedestrian casualties tend to rise or fall in tandem.

The reports point to a dramatic increase in the number of cyclists as a reason for more crashes and fatalities.  The same isn't said for pedestrians, though I have seen more people walking around as pandemic-induced restrictions are eased or lifted.  But I think that there is a related, and more relevant, reason for the increase in deaths and injuries among cyclists and pedestrians.

During the first few months of the pandemic, there was little traffic on the roads.  I can recall riding to Connecticut and back last spring and being able to count, on both hands, the number of motorized vehicles I saw along the way, not counting the ones that crossed the RFK Memorial Bridge.  Until last spring, I never could have imagined such an occurence on a 140 kilometer road ride that takes me through the Bronx and Westchester County before crossing the state line.

As spring turned into summer, traffic was still light, but I noticed faster and more aggressive driving, including some drag racing and other flouting of traffic laws.  Those things were annoying, but I didn't feel I was in danger because the still-light traffic afforded a wide berth between me and the drivers.

During the past few months, though, I've seen more traffic.  Some people, I guess, are returning to their workplaces and old routines, while others started driving and bought cars (for the first time, in some instances) because they didn't want to use mass transit.

But the folks who got used to driving fast and aggressively, or even carelessly, aren't adjusting to the new reality.  They still want to drive as if they have the streets to themselves.  And, in my own unscientific observation, it seems that police aren't enforcing traffic laws as much as they were before the pandemic--if, indeed, they were enforcing them against any but the lowest-hanging fruit (i.e., cyclists and pedestrians).

Having done a fair amount of cycling in other cities, states and countries, I can make this observation:  Building bike lanes and lecturing cyclists about safety--which most of us practice to the best degree we can--does little to prevent tragic encounters between motorists and cyclists and pedestrians.  

What will  make life better for everyone involved are sensible laws and policies (like the Idaho Stop) crafted by people who understand what it's like to ride a city's streets--and a culture rather than a mere lifestyle of cycling.  The culture of which I speak is one in which cycling is seen as a viable mode of transportation rather than just a form of recreation for privileged young people. Such a culture exists in some European countries; that is why there is more respect between drivers and cyclists and pedestrians.

Otherwise, cities and other jurisdictions can continue to build poorly-designed and constructed bike lanes that lead from nowhere to nowhere, and cyclists--or pedestrians or motorists--won't be any safer.

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?

 

The Gem, The Beaver--And The Evergreen--Stop

How would you like to get something your neighbor has...

...had since 1982?

Well, I have to admit: That question hasn't crossed my mind because, well, I didn't know my current neighbors in 1982.  And my neighbors in 1982...well, that was a different world, wasn't it?

Anyway...Last year, one state got something its neighbor had 37 years earlier.  And, yesterday, another neighbor got it. 

So, which "neighbors" am I talking about?  They aren't the folks in the house or building next door. Rather, they're three northwestern states in the United States.

What they all have now is named for one of those states.  I've mentioned it in earlier posts:  a cyclist's right to ride through a stop sign if the coast is clear.

In our world (i.e., cycling and transportation circles), it's often referred to as the "Idaho stop."  The Gem State legalized it the same year Michael Jackson's "Thriller" was released.  Since then, other jurisdictions, including a few towns in Colorado and Paris, France, have instituted versions of it. But it took Oregon, Idaho's southwestern neighbor, 37 years to do the same.

Yesterday, cyclists in Washington State, just to the north of the Beaver State, received the same right. 

Kudos to Washington Bikes for its work leading to the passage of the law, sponsored by Senator Andy Billig and Representative Joe Fitzgibbon.  The Evergreen State lawmakers, and the Seattle Department of Transportation (SDT), cited a study documenting decreased bicycle injuries and improved overall bicycle safety in jurisdictions that implemented versions of the "Idaho Stop."  One reason for the improvement in safety is that the "Idaho Stop" reduces the confusion--which sometimes leads to collisions--that results when cyclists stop at signs or motorists give cyclists the right of way when, for example, traffic is entering the intersection from another direction.  

Interestingly, the study cited by the SDT also mentions that cyclist safety improves because, in riding through "stop" signs, cyclists spend less time in intersections, where air pollution is greater. Also, cyclists are less likely to suffer overuse or other injuries from continuous stopping and starting.

Now there's a question to be researched: How much does strain and stress increase the risk of cycling accidents?

 

A Bike Bay In The Steel City

Possibly the most difficult part of cycling in traffic is navigating intersections.

In jurisdictions that don't have some form of the "Idaho stop," cyclists are expected to follow the traffic signals as either vehicles or pedestrians.  One problem with that is that a cyclist proceeding straight through an intersection is in danger of getting hit by turning vehicles--especially right-turning trucks and buses, as their drivers often do not see cyclists who are far to the right of them. Another problem is that in very large intersections, it is all but impossible to turn left without running into danger from oncoming traffic.

Of course, the "Idaho stop" is meant to remedy the first problem:  Treating a red light as a "stop" sign or a "stop" sign as a "yield" sign (which is what the Idaho stop is, in essence) allows the cyclist to get out ahead of drivers who are making right turns.  As for the second problem, a new solution is being tried out in Pittsburgh.

In the city's Oakland neighborhood, boxes--"bays"--are being carved out in intersections.  Cyclists proceed to them and wait for their signal--which is activated by radar designed to detect their presence--before continuing through the intersection. 


I, for one, will be very interested to see how this idea works out.  In principle, it sounds good, though I must admit that I'm skeptical about a "bay" in the middle of an intersection that is separated from traffic only by lines of paint.

The Idaho Stop Comes To Oregon

A couple of months ago, I wrote that Jonathan Maus, the editor/publisher of Bike Portland, was trying to persuade the Oregon legislature to legalize the "Idaho Stop."  In essence, it allows cyclists to treat a red traffic signal as a "stop" sign and a "stop" sign as a "yield" sign.  What this means is that a cyclist wouldn't have to stop unless traffic were crossing the intersection.  That allows cyclists to get out in front of the traffic approaching him or her from behind, and to cross ahead of incoming traffic. These maneuvers prevent cyclists from being hit by turning vehicles.

Of course, people who don't cycle don't understand as much. They think that cyclists must behave exactly like drivers and  stop when and where the drivers stop.  They also think we are supposed to ride as far to the right as possible, which of course exponentially increases our chances of getting flattened by a turning car or truck--or of getting "doored."

Apparently, 28 such people in the Oregon legislature think this way.  Fortunately, 31 others "get it", and voted to bring the "Idaho Stop" to Oregon on Tuesday 25 June.  The bill will now go to Governor Kate Brown's desk for signing, and will become law six months from now, on New Year's Day of 2020.

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.