Could This Become The Father Of Better Bike Infrastructure?

 Here in New York City, it seems that every other non-cyclist hates the bike lanes. Drivers complain that “their” lanes and parking spaces are being taken from them. 

To be fair, many city streets—even some major ones—are narrow and were crowded even before the bike lanes came in. But, as I’ve mentioned in other posts, studies have found a “build it and they will come” phenomenon in road and other auto-related infrastructure: Creating more space for motorized traffic leads to more motorized traffic. In other words, car-clogged streets that have bike lanes would continue to experience traffic jams even if the bike lanes were given over to cars, trucks, buses and anything else that isn’t human-powered.

Apparently, some folks on Padre Island, off the Texas coast, have heard that message. If they haven’t, perhaps their latest plea to the Island’s Strategic Action Committee (which advises the Corpus Christi City Council) is motivated by two crashes involving cyclists and motorists within a month.

Those good folks (OK, I’m editorializing) are telling the Committee to build safe bicycle lanes and sidewalks. To me, it’s interesting that they’re asking to build something that many New Yorkers want to get rid of. More important, it’s heartening to know that if those lanes and sidewalks are built, they would be part of a larger mobility plan for the island, connecting different communities with buses, golf carts and other non-automotive transportation in addition to bike lanes and sidewalks. If nothing else, I hope that it prevents or defuses at least some of the animosity some drivers direct at cyclists. Oh, I also hope that such a plan might prevent some bad bike lanes—like a few I’ve ridden here in New York—from being built.

50 Kilometers--For Dumplings?

Bagel runs.  Pizza runs.  Taco runs.  Crepe runs.  Beer runs. 

I have made all of those "errands"--usually, at night--on my bicycle.  Some of those trips spanned only a few blocks; others were considerably longer, like the rides I took from Rutgers in New Brunswick, New Jersey to Brooklyn for bagels.  It's not that decent bagels couldn't be had in NB or, more precisely, neighboring Highland Park.  I simply believed that the bagels in Brooklyn--at one place in particular--were the best.

And, of course, those 50 or so kilometers (depending on which route I took) left a bagel (or two) sized hole in my stomach.  

I've probably taken rides of similar length within the bounds of New York City to taste a food that, while available in whichever neighborhood I resided, was better in some ethnic enclave or another:  knishes from Mrs. Stahl's in Brighton Beach, dim sum in Flushing, jerk chicken in Flatbush and, of course, soul food in pre-gentrified Harlem.  Oh, and few things can cap off a winter trek like pho in Sunset Park.

So I fully empathize with four students who made a 50 kilometer late-night run from Zhengzhou to Kaifeng--for soup dumplings. Of course, those young people claimed that they weren't riding only for a midnight snack:  They say they also took in some cultural attractions in Kaifeng, a city that has served as China's capital eight times during a history that stretches as far back as the Athenian Empire.  I believe them simply because I would do the same--while sampling the local cuisine, of course!

That all would have been fine with the local authorities if the ride was limited to those four students, maybe a few more.  But news of the trip went viral on social media. As a result, the quartet would be joined by 100,000 other cyclists, mostly young.

To put that into perspective, the Five Boro Bike Tour, one of the world's largest organized rides, attracted 32,000 riders this year.  Some people complain because they lose "their" lanes and parking spaces when streets are blocked off, but otherwise there is little public or private criticism because the ride is planned well in advance.  Thus, people are prepared for the street closures and police have an easy time patrolling and protecting. (Plus, one assumes, they don't mind the overtime pay.) 

The Dumpling Run, on the other hand, was a spontaneous event. Thus, no one else was prepared for the ensuing traffic jams and other interruptions it caused and local officials were, needless to say, not happy. Nor were bike share administrators:  They had to shut down their networks because most of the riders used share bikes and the networks simply couldn't keep up with the demand.  Also, the ride led to a glut of share bikes in Kaifeng and not enough in Zhengzhou.

Then again, some local papers, like People's Daily, have praised the event.  They cite the "energy" and "spirit" of the ride, not to mention the boost to restaurants and other hospitality businesses.  I can understand:  I've pedaled 50 kilometers, and more, for art, history, culture--and food!

We're Giving You A Reason That Conflicts With The One We Gave You

When I lived in Manhattan, I often cycled across the George Washington Bridge:  I could set out for Bear Mountain around sunrise on a late spring or summer morning and be back before noon.  Even at such an early hour, I'd see other cyclists crossing the bridge in both directions.  Some were riding into the city for work or pleasure, but a few were returning from midnight rides:  something I did at least a few times.  Such trips were possible because, in those days (ca. 1983-1991), the Bridge's walkway/cycle paths didn't close.

Some in the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey management will deny the lanes were ever available 24 hours.  Pardon my cynicism, but I don't find it surprising that the bi-state agency that owns the Bridge (and JFK International Airport, among other facilities) would try to gaslight those of us who have been using the Bridge for decades.  

Photo by Charles Pedola

I don't know exactly when the PANYNJ began overnight closure of the bike lanes.  Nor does the agency itself--or, if it does, it's employing "selective memory."  Like Ed Ravin of the Five Borough Bike Club, I remember the nocturnal lane closure starting some time after the terrorist attacks on 11 September 2001. That is when the Authority installed gates.   "I remember seeing that gate and saying, 'They want to be able to close this path,'"  he recalls.  "I didn't like that at all."

Whatever the case, the path had been closed from midnight through 6 am until earlier this month.  Then, the lanes'  availability was extended by one hour:  It now opens at 5 am.  While that is a partial victory, the PANYNJ's reasoning is murky at best and specious at worst.  A spokesman claimed that the closures began in 2016 for cleaning, maintenance and restoration.  That contrasts with  another statement attributing the closure to a "standard practice" that began in 1995. Both of those claims contradict a 2004 press release stating the lanes would be closed overnight due to "enhanced security measures" for that year's Republican National Convention.

Now, to most people, that difference of one hour doesn't sound like much.  But there are people who ride to and from jobs at that hour--or overnight--who can't afford to, or simply don't, drive or take buses.  Even those of us who pedal across the bridge to train or simply for pleasure feel something in common with those workers:  that the Port Authority doesn't care about us.  About 4 million vehicles drive across the bridge every month; the tolls they pay make the Bridge the Port Authority's second most-profitable asset (after JFK Airport).  On the other hand, in a warm-weather month, about 90,000 of us pedal across the bridge--and we don't pay tolls.

The Latent Demand For Bike Lanes

I took one economics course as an undergraduate. What did I learn? Well, there is a subject at which I am worse than I am at math, which is saying something. Oh, and I learned a few terms that come up every now and again, including “induced demand” and “latent demand.”

The former term refers to, among other things, what happens when new roads are built. Contrary to what people expect—and, too often, planners and politicians promise—building new roads or adding traffic lanes doesn’t ease congestion. Instead, it induces people to drive for short trips and on occasions when they otherwise might not have, and to move further away from their workplaces, schools and other places they need and want to go to—and public transportation.

On the other hand—again, counter to common perception and the claims of grandstanding politicians—bike lanes bring out latent demand. That is to say, they encourage people who wanted to cycle to their jobs, schools or favorite stores and restaurants but were reluctant because they didn’t feel safe. I imagine there are more such people than there are folks who want to drive two hours each way to work, or to put up with the hassles of driving and parking to buy some cereal and milk.

Cyclist on path in front of Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto. Photo by John Rieti for CBC.

Recent research bears out what I have just said. Moreover, it shows that in many places—including my hometown of New York—bike lanes actually help to reduce the amount of time it takes to drive because bike lanes, which are often installed with left turn lanes, allow cyclists to proceed more quickly through intersections and keep cars from blocking other cars.

Research also refutes another misconception: that bike lanes are “bad for business.” They might be in the short term, which is how most small businesses owners operate because a bad month or two can ruin them (as the pandemic showed us). But loyal customers tend to return, whatever the circumstances, and stores and restaurants can gain new customers in cyclists (and pedestrians) who happen to pass by.

In other words, they benefit from latent demand. Hmm…If my economics course had included more examples like that…math would have remained my worst subject.

We Won’t Stop. But We Need More

 When I crashed and was “doored” three months apart, people asked me whether I considered giving up cycling. 

That was four years ago. I’d been riding practically all of my life and a dedicated cyclist for nearly half a century. My response then is the same as the one I’d give now: “No!”

I therefore understand Jakob Morales’ assertion that he will continue to cycle as his primary means of transportation, even after being slammed by a hit-and-run driver in his hometown of Indianapolis. “I was on the bike the next day, so you can’t stop me,” he declared.

It’s as if he’d been answering the question I was asked. For all I know, someone may have asked him. But his testimony underscores something he said in response to hearing about his city’s plans to extend protected bike lanes on a major thoroughfare. It’s good, he said, but not enough. A careless or aggressive driver can literally get away with murder unless the incident is caught on camera. In Morales’ case, it was his own camera that recorded the impact, which shattered the driver’s windshield.

Fortunately for him, he came away with only a couple of scratches. But the fact that he just happened to have that device on his helmet may be what prevented the driver’s liability from being turned into blame against Morales.

And that, to him, is one of the issues his city needs to address. “It shouldn’t take a $500 camera to capture their information and hunt them down,” he says of drivers like the one who struck him.

And we shouldn’t have to live in fear—or have to answer the question of whether we’ll continue to ride.

Are Cyclists Against Religious Freedom?

I most recently visited Montréal around this time of year in 2015. My visit spanned a holiday weekend in the US: Columbus/Indigenous People’s’ Day, which just happened to coincide with Canadian Thanksgiving. That weekend, foliage colors were at or near their peak, highlighting the city’s beauty.

Of course, one of the things that made my visit memorable was the cycling.  La ville aux deux cent clochers had a network of protected bike lanes that was not only more extensive, but also seemed to be more practical for transportation cycling, than anything I’d seen in the US up to that time. Best of all, there seemed to be a respect between cyclists, pedestrians and motorists that I rarely, if ever, see in my home country.

Now, however, the sort of fight I thought could happen only in the ‘States might be brewing. It could pit cyclists and the city against…churchgoers.

A few months ago, bike lanes were installed on both sides of rue Terrebonne in the Nôtre Dame de Grace borough, and the previously two-way street became a one-way thoroughfare. That has upset business owners who say that the lanes have taken parking spaces and thus led to a loss of revenue.

But one of the most vigorous complaints has come from Paul Wong, the warden of St. Monica’s church. He claims that church attendance—and donations—have decreased by nearly a third because, as he tells it, parishioners can’t find parking.

Had such a scenario unfolded in the United States, Wong or someone like him might’ve turned it into a “religious freedom” issue. It will be interesting to see whether he can or does that. Canada’s constitution does guarantee freedom of religious expression. I am no scholar of either the U.S. or Canadian Constitution, but I have to wonder whether Canada’s laws could be interpreted in similar ways to US policies. There have been cases in which employees—mainly Muslim—of municipal, provincial and national governments alleged discrimination against them for wearing symbols or sartorial accoutrements of their faith while on the job.

One thing I would never mention to a congregant of any house of worship is that I am an atheist. Can you imagine what visions of a “conspiracy” that might invoke? Oh yeah, that transgender atheist cyclist is trying to keep us from worshipping in the way God wants us to.

A Tour Of My New Home

 The other day I rode in the Tour de Bronx.  The ride, which isn’t a race, is offered in three lengths:  10, 25 and the “epic” “40+” mile route.  If you’ve been reading this blog, you know that I took the longest trek which, for me, still isn’t particularly long. According to a few other riders, we actually did about 45 miles.

I must say, though, that it’s interesting. We pedaled through some neighborhoods my neighbor Sam and I have explored. He has lived most of his life in the Bronx, but he—like other riders in the Tour—was surprised to see that the borough is full of such varying communities, architectural styles and topography. For example, people were as surprised to see a sign reading “Welcome to Country Club” (Yes, there is a Bronx neighborhood by that name!) as they were to encounter the climb from Van Cortlandt Park to the Fieldston enclave of private streets and the prep school JFK attended.

The ride’s’ volunteers were helpful and almost preternaturally cheerful.  In addition to directing us, they handed out snacks, water and energy drinks and served up pizza and other goodies in the Botanical Garden, where the ride ended.

That they had so much food and drink was amazing when you consider one of the ways the Tour differs from the Five Boro Bike Tour (which is roughly the same length):  the Bronx ride is free, while last year’s Five Boro set back each participant $100. I think the difference might be due in part to how many sponsors the Bronx ride has. But it may also have to do with another major difference in the ride itself.

Streets and highways that comprise the 5B route are completely closed to traffic. I imagine that the city spends a fair amount for police patrols along the way—and, as I understand, accounts for part of the entry fee.  On the other hand, most of the streets—some of which included bike lanes—weren’t cordoned off for the TdB. 

While that wasn’t a problem for me—except for two incidents I’ll mention—for some riders, who were treating the ride as a race, stopping for a red light was an affront to their egos. So they rolled through and the riders behind them—including, at times, yours truly, felt drivers’ wrath.

One of those riders, who probably was young enough to be my grandchild, squeezed past me on City Island Avenue, which has one traffic lane in each direction and, for some reason, was as heavily trafficked as it would be on a summer Sunday. So there was no choice but to ride between the traffic and parked vehicles—which is where that young rider passed and almost bumped into me.

The other incident came near the end of the ride, where we turned on to University Avenue. There is a marked, but not protected, bike lane which I don’t use because, frankly, it’s more dangerous than riding in the traffic lane. Other riders were either familiar with it or saw that the turn to the bike lane was awkward. But one guy who looked like he’s lived on beer and bacon cheeseburgers since his days as a linebacker ended and was riding an electric bike (pedal-assisted, which was allowed) decided he had to ride in the bike lane and cut in front of me. “Why don’t you use the bike lane?” he yelled.

Even after his and the passer’s lack of consideration—and the fact that I had ridden everywhere (except Woodlawn Cemetery, which doesn’t allow bikes to enter at any other time) along the route on other rides, I am glad I did the Tour and probably will do it again. To me, it feels more like a ride than 5B, which feels more and more like an event. Oh, and I think the TdB offers more surprises—and rewards.

From A City That Almost Became A Cycling Utopia To One That Claims To Be One

 Before Portland became, well, Portland, there was a moment—say, about 30 years ago—when it seemed that Seattle would become what the “Rose City” has become in America’s —and the world’s—consciousness. (Sorry to sound like a grad student trying to imitate their favorite professor!) 

San Francisco’s countercultural spirit and much of its sheer charm was being ground down (some would say it had already been ground down) by tech- and finance-industry wealth; other cities’ creative communities and bohemian enclaves—if they ever had them in the first place—were similarly destroyed or co-opted by corporatization and gentrification. While “indie” culture, which was largely defined by its music (think Kurt Cobain, Pearl Jam et al.) was Seattle’s trademark and gave  “The Emerald City” a reputation as a haven for people who did things their way, it is very different from what “keeps Portland weird.”

But, because I am writing about cycling and not a cultural history of the United States, I am thinking of a particular way in which Seattle almost became, in essence, Portland before there was Portland—or the notion of Portland, anyway.  That is to say, Seattle seemed destined to become America’s “Bicycle City.”

I tried to find, in vain, reports I read during that time saying that Seattle had more bicycle shops, per capita, than any other US city and that it was building what we now call “bicycle infrastructure” decades before most other cities’ and other jurisdictions’—including Portland’s—planners had even thought of it. If indeed my memory of such things is correct, I could attribute that interest in cycling and cycling infrastructure to traits shared by many who moved to Seattle during the ‘80’s and ‘90’s and who moved to Portland a decade later: They loved outdoor activities, including cycling. Perhaps more important, at least a few fled car-centric cities and suburbs and wanted their newly-adopted hometowns to be more bike- and pedestrian-friendly.

Given this history, it’s understandable that Seattle Bike Blog author Tom Fucoloro would expect to find a cycling utopia during his recent visit to Portland—and surprising that he didn’t. Lest you think that his judgment was a matter of envy or civic pride, he offers some very specific criticisms of cycling in the city which, he says, he enjoyed. 

Tom Fucoloro and his son cycling in Portland.

His most trenchant observations are of downtown bike lanes. One is the lanes’ lack of connectedness: Some begin out of nowhere and take you nowhere, much less to another lane. (That is also one of my pet peeves about New York’s bike lanes.) Another is that there aren’t protected lanes in high-traffic downtown areas.

I share his consternation that a city that touts itself as a cyclists’ haven, and claims to encourage transportation as well as recreational cycling, doesn’t do something that might entice more people to abandon their cars, at least for short trips. Then again, I’m not surprised, as I live in New York, where the situation isn’t much better—but at least we have more extensive, if overburdened, mass transit systems .

Who Wreaks More Havoc?

 

Photo by Owen Zwiliak, Chicago Sun -Times

A few of my recent posts have dealt with drivers' and cyclists' attitudes about, and perceptions of, each other.  As I've described, irate motorists see us as over-privileged scofflaws who endanger the public order.

At least one person perceives otherwise.  James R. Anderson, a Chicago cyclist, wrote a letter to his hometown newspaper, the Sun-Times about drivers who behave badly.  As he correctly points out, they are a more egregious danger to cyclists and pedestrians than we can be to them in part because they are driving two to four tons of metal, often at two to four times the speed at which we ride (not to mention how much faster and more massive they are than pedestrians). But he makes another point:  Too many motorists (including drivers of pickup trucks and SUVs) are looking at their screens rather than their surroundings; they, and other drivers sometimes block crosswalks or bike lanes and blow through red lights, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they've done anything wrong.

Oh, and he also brings up another little-discussed fact:  That most fatal crashes are caused by drivers, not cyclists or pedestrians.  For one thing, even in cities like Chicago and New York with large numbers of cyclists, we are far outnumbered by drivers.  And a driver's error or carelessness can be magnified to a much greater degree--because of the vehicle's speed and mass--than any misjudgment a cyclist or pedestrian could make.

To spare you from having to navigate a paywall, I am reproducing Anderson's letter here:

I have seen letters to the editor recently from car drivers complaining about “sharing the road with bike riders while bike riders break all kinds of laws.” The letter writers say they’ve seen bicycle riders run stop signs.

My question is: Have they seen the behavior of car drivers? Last week on Hubbard Street, I was stopped at a stop sign — because it’s a stop sign and because there was a pedestrian in the far crosswalk — and three drivers buzzed around me to blow the stop sign and endanger the pedestrian.

Drivers in giant SUVs and pickup trucks, with no idea what’s happening around their vehicles because they’re too busy playing with their phones to have a look or check their mirrors, run red lights with alarming frequency. I don’t mean they just missed the yellow; the light was red, and they decided to go anyway.

Drivers turn right on red without stopping or looking for pedestrians on the right, often in contravention of “No turn on red” signs.

Drivers block bike lanes and crosswalks and fail to stop for pedestrians in crosswalks, with no idea they’re doing anything wrong.

By the way, it is drivers, not bicycle riders, who usually cause car crash fatalities, including more than 1,300 in 2021. Plus, they inflict injuries great and small, plus cause billions in property damage.

Bad bicycle riding is inexcusable, but its impact is microscopic compared to the harm of bad car driving. It’s like the difference between a nuclear missile and a fly swatter.

James R. Anderson, Near West Side

Why Are Bike Lanes Seen As Conduits Of Gentrification?

When the bike lane came to Crescent Street, people didn't wonder whether they'd be priced out of the neighborhood.  It didn't price me out:  My rent was the same on the day I moved as it was three and a half years earlier, when the bike lane opened.  I moved mainly because a senior apartment (don't tell anybody!) became available.

But others see those green strips of asphalt with white borders (or, in some cases, bollards or other separators) as conduits of class warfare.  While they might own their homes, they worry about the face and faces of their communities changing.  

Such anxieties are felt and expressed (sometimes overtly) mainly in older white working-class enclaves and communities of color.  From Hasidic Jews and other religious conservatives who don't want "scantily clad" cyclists (and "sexy-ass hipster girls") rolling past their abodes to working parents who ferry themselves to work and their kids to school in cars and minivans and complain they "can't park" and they're "always stuck in traffic" to poor Blacks and Hispanics who feel abandoned by their cities and country, people in communities where few adults ride bikes for recreation (and certainly aren't riding the latest carbon-fiber technowonder) see cyclists--especially cycling activists and advocates--as younger, whiter, richer or more libertine than themselves.  Oh, and many of us are childless or have only one child, in contrast to the large families many poor, religious and other people support.

So in a way, I can understand why some people sigh "There goes my neighborhood!" when a bike lane comes to their doorstep. To put it in pedantic, schoolmarmish terms, they are equating correlation with causation.  That is also understandable:  When people don't know the underlying reasons for a phenomenon, they tend to link any two events they see simultaneously.  And it's true that in my hometown of New York, you are more likely to ride in a bike lane if you're on the Upper East Side of Manhattan than if you're living and riding in the decidedly non-gentrified, non-hipster Brooklyn neighborhood of East New York.  

In my observation, if there is any cause-and-effect relationship between bike lanes and gentrification, it's actually the reverse of what many people believe:  If anything, gentrification leads to the building of bike lanes in one neighborhood.  Those paths are usually constructed along long corridors that lead from one neighborhood into another. So a lane like the one along Kent Avenue in Brooklyn began in the gentrified/hipster areas of Greenpoint and North Williamsburg and was extended down to the ungentrified areas of South Williamsburg, where most residents are members of large Hasidic families.  And another Brooklyn bike lane, along Fourth Avenue, extends from the mostly White and Middle Eastern enclaves of Bay Ridge through the mainly immigrant Chinese and Mexican communities in Sunset Park and, from there, into working-class neighborhoods near Greenwood Cemetery and on to uber-gentrified Park Slope.

If anything, such lanes should be equalizers:  People from poor as well as affluent communities can use them to bike (or ride their scooters) to work, school, shop or just for fun. I think, perhaps, more people would see them that way if more bike activists and advocates looked and talked (ahem) less like me!

Our Mistakes Migrating North?

 In one way, hostility drivers direct at cyclists is like racism, sexism and homo- and transphobia: It’s based on stereotypes and other misconceptions.

One of the stereotypes about cyclists is that we’re Lycra-clad antisocial scofflaws (or “sexy-ass hipster girls”). I stopped wearing Lycra years ago and I obey the law to the degree that I can without endangering myself or anyone else.

As for misconceptions:  One that drivers have shouted at me when they cut me off is that cyclists and bike lanes are the reason why drivers spend so much time sitting in traffic.

I can understand why they, however misguidedly, link bike lanes with traffic jams. On Crescent Street, where I lived until a few months ago, a bike lane was installed a few years ago. From day one, I thought it was a terrible idea because Crescent, a southbound thoroughfare with two traffic and parking lanes, was the only direct connection between the RFK Memorial Bridge/Grand Central Parkway and the Queensborough (59th Street) Bridge/Long Island Expressway. For that reason, it has always had more traffic than the other north-south streets (except 21st) in Astoria and Long Island City. The situation was exacerbated by Mount Sinai-Queens hospital on Crescent and 30th Avenue, two blocks from where I lived.

So as poor a decision as it was to turn a Crescent traffic lane into a bike route, it was not the cause of traffic tie-ups or drivers’ inability to find parking: Vehicular logjams and the paucity of parking spaces plagued the street long before the bike lane arrived.

Unfortunately, similar mistakes in bike infrastructure planning have been made, and motorists’ misconceptions and frustrations have resulted, all over New York and other US cities. They have led grandstanding politicians and candidates to pledge that no more bike lanes will be built and existing ones will be “ripped out.”

Even more worrisome, at least to me, is that lawmakers in a place that seems to have more enlightened policies than ours are talking about such knee-jerk “solutions” to traffic “problems.” In the Canadian province of Ontario, the government is considering legislation that would prohibit the installation of bike lanes if motor vehicle lanes have to be removed.

Bike lane on Eglinton Avenue. Toronto. Photo by Paul Smith for CBC.

The “reasoning” behind it is the population—and traffic—growth around cities like Toronto, Ottawa and Hamilton which has led to longer commute times.

What such policy makers fail to realize is that growth, especially in the suburbs, is largely a result of building roads that provide direct access to cities’ business districts, or between suburban locations.  Research has shown this pattern to repeat itself in metropolitan areas all over the world:  One planner describes it as a “build it and they will come” phenomenon.

Moreover, the legislation Ontario lawmakers are proposing posits a false choice between motor vehicle and bike lanes and pits cyclists against motorists. It’s difficult to see how inciting such a conflict will make commuting—or cycling or driving for any other kind of transportation or recreation—safer or more efficient.

I hope that Ontario’s legislature will stop and listen to research and evidence rather than loud, angry voices. My hope is not unfounded: our neighbors to the north seem to do such things more often and earlier, whether it comes to transportation, marriage equality or any number of other issues.

Struck—Not By A Car Or SUV—While Cycling To School

People's concerns about cycling safety most commonly are centered around motor vehicles: We all hope that two tons of metal approaching is from behind isn’t steered by someone who’s intoxicated, enraged or simply careless.

The next-most common safety concerns probably are about road or bike lane hazards like potholes, sewer drains with grates that run parallel to the curb or lanes that send us directly into the path of right-turning vehicles.

Depending on where we ride, we may also need to take weather or other natural elements into account. For example, in mountainous areas, I’ve ridden directly from sunshine and summery heat into snow and sleet, and  vice versa.  

And while lightning can flash just about anywhere in the world, Florida seems to be a particular target for those bolts of electricity. But even in the so-called Sunshine State, I don’t think that most cyclists think about their rides—and their days of riding—coming to an end because they were struck by lightning while riding.

That, apparently is what happened to an eleventh-grader in Pembroke Pines, just north of Miami.  He was rushed to a hospital where he was pronounced dead, and there’s a hole where his body was recovered. A home security video picked up the apparent strike, and a resident of the home where the camera was positioned said that she heard the loudest “boom” she’d ever heard right about the time that video captured the unfortunate encounter.

I’ll bet that she didn’t envision, any more than the poor young man did, being struck by lightning while cycling home from school. And I’ll bet that if she thought about cycling safely before that incident, she probably thought more about vehicles crashing into cyclists—which kills more cyclists in Florida than in any other US state.

Paying Attention to Cyclists in the City of Brotherly Love

Two months ago, Barbara Friedes was riding her bike on Philadelphia’s Spruce Street bike lane. An alleged drunk driver swerved into the lane and hit her from behind.

The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia was left with one fewer doctor than it had before the crash.

To its credit, the local affiliate of CBS News has been following bicycle safety in the City of Brotherly Love. The station’s investigation has not only followed crashes caused by drunk, careless or entitled drivers. It has also pursued such issues as city-issued permits—which the investigators called “questionable”—allowing churches to park in bike lanes on Sundays.

(That reminds me of something that might be touchy in this time of the Israel-Gaza conflict: The ultra-orthodox Jewish communities in my hometown of New York have a history of opposing nearly all bike-favorable policies and infrastructure on the grounds of “religious freedom.”)

Turns out, Philadelphia City Council President Kenyatta Johnson has also been paying attention. He has introduced a bill nicknamed the “Get Out of the Bike Lane” legislation. If passed, it would increase fines from $75 to $125 for parking or stopping in bike lanes in Center City or University City. Fines for similar infractions in other parts of the city would increase from $50 to $75.

Sometimes They’re Righr

 A letter to the Baltimore Banner’s editor illustrated, for me, a problem in the planning and public perception of bicycle infrastructure.

I am not familiar with Baltimore. From reading Dr. Mark Braun’s letter, however, I get the impression that the city’s bike lanes are as sporadic and episodic as they are in other American locales.

Dr. Braun, who describes himself as a new resident and avid cyclist, says that he cannot understand why residents object to one proposed bike lane, but completely understands why they object to another. 

Photo by Daniel Zawodny

About the latter, he says two roads that would connect parts of other bike trails are “overbuilt” and would be “incredibly unsafe for children or inexperienced riders. He says the former is a much better choice, as it is a four-lane road where traffic is light but fast, which encourages drivers to speed. A bike lane along that road, he argues, would result in “decreased vehicle speeds” and provide “direct access” to two parks.

In other words, he is saying that on the road where a proposed lane has raised objections he can’t understand, the lane would actually make the road safer for traffic as well as cyclists. And, he understands the objections to the other proposed route for essentially the same reason.

Such considerations never seem to factor into decisions about where and how to build bike lanes in American cities. That, I believe is one factor that causes planners to create bad bike lanes and for non-cyclists to object to good lanes for the wrong reasons.

Even In A Cyclist's Paradise, Not All Is Heavenly

The Netherlands is often seen as a cyclists' paradise.  Indeed, the country's ratio of bicycles to people is roughly the same as, ahem, of that of guns to people in the United States. (That is to say, humans are outnumbered.) And comprehensive networks of bike lanes that you can actually use to get from home to school or work, or to go shopping or simply on a "fun" ride, crisscross many Dutch cities and towns.  Moreover, bicycle "infrastructure" includes facilities like parking garages that drivers take for granted.

However, even in such a velocipedic utopia, not all places are "bike friendly," according to Mark Wagenbuur, the "Bicycle Dutch" blog author.  Recently, he was asked to speak in Wageningen, a small city with a university renowned for its work in agricultural technology and engineering.  As he had never before been in the city, he spent some time pedaling in it before offering his perspective on its cycling conditions.

There, he reports, he found "a mishmash of various types of infrastructure that have developed over time." Not only did he find paths with different kinds of surfaces that weren't connected, he also found bike lanes where they "didn't need to be," like the one alongside a residential street with a 30 kph (19 mph) speed limit.  To be fair, he points out, the street was once a major road, so the bike lane may have made more sense.  But, as with any kind of infrastructure, it needs to be updated. 

Also, he found "car parking lots galore" in a city that is "warmly welcoming car drivers" and noticed that, like other cities that aren't particularly welcoming to cyclists, it's also difficult to reach and navigate via mass transit. (Though there is a bus terminal, the nearest rail station is 8 km--about 5 miles--from the center of the city.) Furthermore, the pedestrian route from the bus station to the center of town includes crossing a busy Provincial Road with no crosswalk or traffic lights. From there, pedestrians traverse a dark underpass and a car parking lot.

Americans (and people in some other countries) might dismiss Wagenbuur as "spoiled." After all, he is comparing conditions in Wageningen to those of his home city and others in the Netherlands.  But he has made a valid point:  Wageningen can, and should do better, even if its cycling conditions are better than those of most locales in the United States.

A Newspaper Calls Out Its City's Drivers

"In a city plagued with reckless driving..."

Would you expect an article about your city (or town), published in a local newspaper, to begin with that phrase?

Well, a piece in the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel began that way.  In many other American locales, even those that are supposedly "bike-friendly," drivers would howl in protest, and cancel subscriptions and, if they're business owners, advertisements.  I've never been to Milwaukee, so I won't speculate on whether motorists have more or less sway than they have in other places.  Even if they have less influence, it's still surprising to see an article (not an editorial) begin with such a phrase.

The focus of the article is how reckless and simply entitled drivers are undermining the city's efforts to build a network of bike lanes.  In particular, it described the ways in which drivers have made pedaling  along North Avenue, in the words of longtime cyclist Lydia Ravenwood,  "worse with the bike lane."

I would echo a similar complaint about some streets in my hometown, New York City, that have bike lanes.  Sam Mattson, another longtime cyclist, gives a reason that any New York cyclist could give about too many of our lanes:  Drivers treat them like parking lanes. (He doesn't mention something I would add:  Taxi and ride share drivers pick up and discharge passengers in the bike lanes.)  But he also adds a detail that relates to the article's headline:  Drivers deliberately smash into the concrete planters that separate the bike from the traffic lane. 

A cyclist on East North Avenue, Milwaukee.  Photo by Mike De Sisti for the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel.

If you ask me, even if those motorists are skilled enough to effect a "controlled" crash, they are as reckless--with the lives of cyclists and pedestrians as well as themselves--as drug- or alcohol-addled hooligans who plow along the street at twice the speed limit and just "happen" to knock over the barriers.

Boston Hauls A “First”

 When Citibike debuted in New York City eleven years ago, Hasidic Jewish leaders in South Williamsburg, Brooklyn tried to keep the bike-share program out of their neighborhood. Why? The same reason why another Brooklyn ultra-Orthodox community—Borough Park—stopped bike lanes from coming into their enclave:  They didn’t want “scantily-clad” cyclists rolling disturbing their “peace.”

Although the Hasidim tend to vote as a bloc (including, ahem, for Donald Trump), not everyone was against Citibike. And when it finally came to their neck of the woods, the Hasidim—the men, anyway—couldn’t get enough of it.

I think we saw so many black-hatted bearded men pedaled blue Citibikes down Kent Avenue and Havemeyer Street, their tzitzits fluttering behind them for at least one of the reasons why hipsters in tank tops twiddled along Berry Street Although they have a reputation for being trust-fund kids whose parents buy condos for them, many hipsters are living with roommates in cramped quarters. And the Hasidim tend to have large families which, even in a large apartment or house, doesn’t leave much room for anything else.

All of this came to mind when I read that Boston is about to become the first city to add cargo bikes to its bike share program. Planners hope and anticipate that this new service, like Bluebikes, will become popular and offer an alternative to cars for people who must haul cargo and children. If Bostonians embrace the shared cargo bikes as they have Bluebikes, I think it will be in part for the same reasons Hasidim in South Williamsburg and hipsters on the North Side embraced Citibike. If people can’t store a regular bicycle in their living space, how would they fit a cargo bike?

I would be interested to see whether my hometown of New York follows Boston’s lead—which it does more often than New Yorkers care to admit. (Example: Boston opened the first subway system, a decade before New York’s.)

Cyclists in The City Of Light

 During the Olympic Games, not all cyclists are on the track or trails, or on streets set aside for the road races and time trials. And they’re not all commuters: After all, Paris (and France) has a reputation for being “closed” in August, when residents leave for vacations in the countryside or abroad.

Rather, many of the cyclists along the Quai d’Orsay and other popular venues are visitors. Velib (the city’s bike share network) use is up 11 percent from last year in spite of bad weather. Much of that increase can be attributed to a 44 percent rise in temporary passes.

It’s difficult not to think that visitors are encouraged by the network of bike lanes that laces the City of Light and the auto-free zones created in other parts of the city.  Also, Velib has installed additional docking stations at the entrances to Olympic venues and other key locations.

Illustration by Logan Guo

The campaign to make Paris less car-congested and more bik-friendly began shortly after current mayor Anne Hidalgo was first elected ten years ago and was no doubt accelerated by planning for the Olympics. In contrast to American cities—like my hometown of New York—that have made efforts that are more sporadic and less organized—visitors and residents alike seem to enjoy the car-free spaces. I wonder whether the visitors be motivated by their memories of cycling the city—or simply enjoying coffee by the Champ de Mars or Rue de Rivoli—and help to make their hometowns more bike-friendly or simply more pleasant and sustainable. I just hope they won’t blame a new bike lane for “taking “ “their” parking spaces, as happens so often here in New York. 

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.

Will Donuts Destroy This Shop?

 Some cyclists—racers, mainly—would never, ever touch a donut. Others see them as a quick and tasty source of energy.

I’ll admit that I’ve had a donut or two before or during rides. So I won’t judge you if you have.

If bikes and donuts are beside each other, I suppose they could be mutually beneficial for business. At least, a bike shop or lane might bring business to a donut shop. On the other hand, there are instances in which donuts aren’t good for a bike shop.

The kinds of donuts I’m talking about aren’t Dunkin’ or Krispy Kreme, cinnamon or Boston Cream. Rather, I am referring to an automotive stunt that involves rotating the rear or front wheels in a continuous motion around the opposite set of wheels. The goal seems to be to leave a circular skid mark of rubber and leave smoke from friction.

Of course, anyone engaging in such stupidity probably will feel the need to do it at as high a rate of speed as possible. That increases the chances of the driver losing control, sometimes with tragic consequences.

A donut “sideshow” didn’t cost John McDonell his life. But it may have cost him his life’s work—or the last 13 years of it, anyway.

During that time, he has owned and operated Market Street Cycles in San Francisco. For a few years, business was very good: The shop stands at the intersection of Market, Page and Valencia Streets, all of which have bike lanes. Thus, the establishment profited from being along one of the city’s busiest bicycles commuting routes.

That is, until the COVID-19 pandemic struck.  San Francisco was under one of the hardest lockdowns in the US. Even after it was lifted, bicycle—and vehicular—traffic never resumed. According to McDonell, there’s “less than one-third of the traffic” that passed the shop pre-pandemic. “There’s no downtown, there’s no commute anymore,” he lamented.

Since then, his shop and other businesses in the area have been plagued with robberies.  But the coup de grâce may have come early yesterday morning, when a driver doing “donuts” smashed into his shop. The 57-year-old shop owner says he’ll probably close permanently. “I’m too old for this shit,” he said.