Allen Brumm: A Cyclist Follows The Law And Is Blamed For His Own Death

Which is worse:  An ill-conceived law-- or a law enforcement official who is ignorant of, or misinterprets, a law?

The death of Allen Brumm seems to beg such a question.

The 57-year-old California cyclist was riding in a time trial when he was struck head-on by an oncoming motorist.

California Vehicle Code 21751 mandates the following:

Passing Without Sufficient Clearance 21751. On a two-lane highway, no vehicle shall be driven to the left side of the center of the roadway in overtaking and passing another vehicle proceeding in the same direction unless the left side is clearly visible and free of oncoming traffic for a sufficient distance ahead to permit such overtaking and passing to be completely made without interfering with the safe operation of any vehicle approaching from the opposite direction. 

Now, I'm not a lawyer. But it seems to me that the key clause in that passage is "unless the left side is clearly visible and free of oncoming traffic for a sufficient distance ahead".  In other words, if you're driving, you're not supposed to pass unless the left lane is clear for as much distance as you need to pass.

The 35-year-old-driver had pulled to her left to pass another cyclist on County Road 19 in a rural area of Yolo County, west of Sacramento. Mr. Brumm was riding in the oncoming lane.

This is a Google Streetview of a section of CR 19 near the crash site.  As you can see, there was nothing to obstruct her view almost clear to the horizon.  

California Highway Patrol Sergeant Andy Hill, in describing the accident, said "both parties" contributed to the collision.  He did not specify the driver's culpability, but said that Mr. Brumm's fault lay in his riding "as far to the right" as possible.

This is what the Golden State's Vehicle code specifies:

Operation on Roadway 21202. (a) Any person operating a bicycle upon a roadway at a speed less than the normal speed of traffic moving in the same direction at that time shall ride as close as practicable to the right-hand curb or edge of the roadway…. 

 Again, take my reading of this, as a non-barrister, as you will.  But it seems to me that the key part of this statute--as it pertains to the accident in question--is "shall ride as close as practicable to the right-hand curb or edge of the roadway.

The last time I checked, "practicable" does not mean quite the same thing as "possible".  Were Tour de France riders to descend any Alpine road as far to the right as "possible", there wouldn't be enough riders left to continue the Tour de France!  Even the most skilled rider would have a hard time not falling off a virage were he or she to ride as far to the right as possible.

On such roads, riding as far to the right as possible could mean riding on rocks or on the edge of a cliff.  In other situations, it could mean riding on ice or on a soft shoulder that would act as quicksand under a bicycle tire tread.

That last scenario is--from what I've read--what Mr. Brumm encountered.  Riding as far to the right as possible would have meant not riding at all.  So he rode as far to the right as was practicable in that situation.

Once, on a ride in Pennsylvania, I got into an argument with an officer about that very point.  The Keystone State, like many others, has (or had, at that time) language similar to CVC 21202 in its laws.  To the right of the roadway on which I was riding was the muddy bank of a stream, which would have been all but impossible to ride on the road bike I was pedaling.  That road was similar to the one on which Mr. Brumm died--a two-lane county road in a semi-rural area.

I explained to the policeman--who, I believe, was not a cyclist--the near-impossiblity of riding "as far to the right as possible".  He said, "Well, maybe you shouldn't be riding this road."  I think he knew that I didn't live in the area and, to his credit, suggested another nearby road, which I rode back to the bridge in Uhlerstown.

And, of course, I rode as far to the right as was practicable into New Jersey.  Poor Allen Brumm did the same in California and is being blamed for his death.

My sincere condolences to his friends and family.

Saluting An Early Morning Fog

This morning, on my way to work, I pedaled into a horizon of light, high fog.

The air was still pleasantly cool and, surprisingly, didn't seem very humid.  At least, I was pedaling at a vigorous, if not furious, pace because I could, and I wasn't sweating.

Perhaps it had to do with the stillness of everything around me.  They say this city never sleeps.  Well, sometimes I'm out before people--and machines--have awakened:

Or are they saluting the skyscrapers, veiled in mist on the other side of the river ?

Oh, it's such a treat to ride my bike to work!

Less Stressful Than The Greenway

 

Yesterday, after co-leading a workshop in the Bronx, I had an errand in Chelsea. The ride, about sixteen kilometers, would have taken me across the 145th Street Bridge and up a couple of short but fairly steep climbs in the Sugar Hill and Strivers' Row sections of Harlem.  Then I would descend, probably at 129th or 125th Street (Believe it or not, they intersect in the far western section of Harlem!), under the IRT Viaduct to the Hudson River Greenway, which I would have ridden down to 18th Street.

I followed the itinerary I've outlined up to the hill climbs.  Yes, I did pedal up them, and felt invigorated on a mild autumn afternoon, but decided to ride down the "Valley"--Manhattan Avenue--from 125th to 110th Street before turning toward the river and Greenway.

At 110th, I took a quick left on Riverside Terrace and rode (the wrong way, but there was no traffic) a block, where I crossed Riverside Drive and entered Riverside Park and, finally, the Greenway.

Hudson River Greenway

I shouldn't have been surprised that so many people were cycling, running, strolling,skateboarding, rollerblading, riding Segways, walking themselves and their dogs and stopping to kiss their loved ones along the Greenway on such a beautiful Saturday.  And, really, I can't begrudge any of them:  Only a mole wouldn't want to be outdoors, by the river, on a day like yesterday.

But some of the strollers, skateboarders and others were--not surprisingly--texting.  Actually, a few looked as if they were playing video games or doing other things that required them to interact only with their electronic devices.  Perhaps it's because I came of age in an era of high crime and was victimized a couple of times---or, maybe, because I grew up without the electronic devices--I still can't understand how people can walk, skateboard or whatever and text at the same time.  I simply can't divide my attentions in that way and--again, this may be a result of having lived through the age of "Fort Apache, The South Bronx"--I feel that I must remain aware of my surroundings.  
Only the cyclists and runners seemed to be going about their way without electronic distractions.  

To be fair, most people moved aside when they heard me. A couple of knuckleheads wouldn't get out of my way even after I rang my bell and shouted, and they seemed to make a point of making it impossible to maneuver around them.  

After dodging and weaving for a few minutes, I exited the Greenway at 96th Street and started riding down Riverside Drive.  I pedaled all the way to its southern end, at 72nd Street, without seeing a single driver of a car, bus or other motor vehicle.  In fact, the only vehicles I saw were parked along the side of the drive.

Then, after turning left on 72nd and right on West End Avenue, I encountered another major thoroughfare that was all but traffic-free.  To my knowledge, neither WEA or RD was closed to traffic.  Nor was 11th Avenue, which is what WEA becomes south of 59th Street.  There, I played tag with a few cars and a couple of buses--probably going to some event or another at the Javits Center--but stopped only once--at 34th Street, one of the busiest streets in Manhattan--on my way to 18th and 9th Avenue.

I still can't get over the irony of it all:  Riding the streets from 96th to 18th was actually relaxing--almost bucolic, really--in comparison to the Greenway.