On The Bridge Too Far

 Bells clang.  Lights flash.  A gate drops.

You have to stop for: a.) a railroad crossing or b.) a drawbridge.

I admit that on more than one occasion, upon hearing the bells, my legs pumped out a momentary burst of speed that would have impressed a Russian sprinter. OK, I'm exaggerating---only slightly! 😉 But I did manage to cross tracks before trains plowed through, or bridges before they opened.

It's been a while since I pulled such stunts.  These days, I envision the fate of a cyclist in this video:

 

He hung onto the North Palm Beach, Florida span as it opened.  According to a news report, the witness who took the video saw the cyclist on the bridge as it began to lift and, believing the cyclist would ride down, started to take the video.

When the witnessed noticed the cyclist was in trouble, he stopped taking the video and "rushed to help him down  off the bridge," according to police.

The bike was damaged but the cyclist suffered only "pain and discomfort" in his left shoulder from holding himself up on the bridge and a slight burn in his right inner bicep from sliding on the railing. 

He declined EMS help at the scene but went to the hospital on his own.  

The bridge tender claims she didn't see anyone crossing the bridge.

The Weather Outside Is Ice-ful

This morning, anything that can fall from the sky has been falling.

All right, that was a terrible description to use on Day 2 or 3 (depending on what you consider “zero hour”) of Putain’s, I mean Putin’s, invasion.  Actually, it would be a frightening description any day, given my proximity to an airport.  So let me be more specific:  Anything that can naturally fall from the Earth’s atmosphere—snow, rain, sleet and freezing rain is falling. That combination, according to my, shall we say, layperson’s understanding of meteorology, can happen only in the conditions we have now: the air is saturated and the temperature is yo-yoing a degree or two above and below the freezing point.

The weather is indeed frightful.  But some of the resulting scenes are, if not delightful, at least interesting. 

Paint Is Not Infrastructure

 I don't know whether Robert "Bicycle Bob" Silverman, about whom I wrote yesterday, uttered the title of this post.  It's not hard to imagine that he did--le peinture n'est pas une infrastructure--when he was campaigning for the safe, practical lanes Montreal's cyclists enjoy.

Someone who did say that--in English--was a fellow identified only as "John" in Hertfordshire.  He documented a "near miss" in which a driver squeezed him over to the curb.  

"John" blames, in part the driver:  "Whilst this was telegraphed right from the point when the van signals to turn right, there was a weary inevitability of at least one of the drivers not being able to see beyond the end of their bonnet and creating an easily preventable situation"  

While the carelessness or cluelessness of drivers is not news to cyclists in the UK or US, "John" also blames what an editor of road.cc sarcastically calls "a great piece of cycle superhighway."  His all-too-close encounter, he says, "demonstrates that poor cycle infrastructure, in this case a narrow lane that disappears just when you need it, can cause more problems than it solves."

He said what I've said--and, what I don't doubt "Bicycle Bob" said:  Poorly-conceived, -constructed and -maintained bicycle infrastructure is not only less convenient, but more dangerous, for cyclists and motorists alike, than no infrastructure at all.  I have seen too many examples of that here in New York, but too many planners persist in believing that simply painting a few lines on a street will lead to a safer co-existence, or at least a truce, between cyclists and motorists.