Cyclists Killed, Victims Blamed

This blog is twelve years old.  During that time, I've argued--fairly consistently, I believe--that bike lanes and other physical forms of "bicycle infrastructure" aren't, by themselves, enough to make cycling safer or to encourage people to trade one pedal and four wheels for two pedals and two (or three) wheels, if only for short trips.

The most important form of "bicycle infrastructure" is, I believe, attitudes and policies and about cycling and cyclists.  As I've done before, I'm going to make a comparison between victims of sexual crimes and victims of motorists' aggression or carelessness against cyclists. (I've been both.)  In both cases, victims have been blamed, implicitly or explicitly, for what happened to them.

Photo by Tim Grist

Although some attitudes have changed, it's still not unusual for some people to wonder aloud what someone "was doing on the street at that time of night" or was wearing at the time she, he or they were attacked. Or, worse, to blame the victim's sexual orientation or gender presentation for the attack.  And the ways in which too many police officers treat victims re-traumatizes them and discourages others from reporting attacks against them.

Similarly, when an intoxicated or distracted driver runs down a cyclist, or when any driver uses a bike lane as a parking or passing lane, the cyclist or bicycling is, too often blamed, again, whether explicitly or implicitly.  The former happened after a woman driving an SUV in Houston struck and killed an eight-year-old boy on a bicycle.  In response, the Texas Department of Public Safety issued a statement that he "was riding his bike in an area that isn't safe for pedestrians or people riding bikes."

As it turns out, the boy was crossing an intersection where the driver had a stop sign.  So, in brief, the Texas DPS blamed the boy for riding--to school?  home?--as so many other kids, and adults, do.

The bike- and cyclist-blaming is also extended to users of any form of transportation that isn't an automobile.  Pedestrians have also been similarly held culpable for crossing a street when a driver blew through a red light.  And, in Bloomington, Indiana--home to Indiana University--a student was killed while riding a scooter in a bike lane.  How did the city respond?  It decided to limit scooter use.

The real infrastructure improvement, if you will, the city needs is for its planners and policy makers to shift their goals away from moving as many cars or trucks as possible as quickly as possible from one point to another. In other words, they need to stop thinking that the car is king--and to spread the message that motorists share space with cyclists, pedestrians, scooter-users--and folks in wheelchairs or walkers.

To be fair, just about every other US municipality, even if it's deemed "bike friendly," needs to make such a shift. Otherwise, kids riding their bikes to school or adults riding to work or for exercise will be blamed when they're run down by people who drink or text while they drive, or use bike lanes for parking or passing.

4000 Posts: Change And Hope

 Today this blog reaches another milestone:  post #4000. Every milestone, whether of this blog or in any other area of my life, is a time to reflect. 

It's perhaps not such a coincidence that I, and this blog, have reached such a landmark  after my latest trip to Florida.  I hadn't been there--or seen my father--in three years.  The occasion of my previous visit to the Sunshine State, which wasn't long enough (or quite the occasion) for a ride, was my mother's funeral. That was not long after my 3000th post on this blog. 

As I mentioned a few days ago, a couple of months after my mother passed, "COVID happened." In many ways, the world--at least the parts I know--have changed.  

I got to thinking about that while in Florida.  For one thing, while riding I noticed many more cyclists (which, of course, made me happy), and many more young or youngish people, than during previous visits.  Both of those developments are, at least partially, results of the pandemic. I also saw what I had never seen before on any of the streets, paths or trails:  e-bikes and scooters.  Of the latter, I would say that I saw, not only fewer overall-- which would make sense because there are fewer people in Palm Coast than in my neighborhood-- but also a lower ratio of scooters to bikes, e-bikes and other vehicles. Or so it seemed. Also, the e-bikes and motorized bicycles were ridden, it seemed, by recreational riders:  I didn't see anyone who seemed to be delivering anything.

Seeing the damage Ian wrought, though not as severe or extensive as what other parts of the state have endured, is enough to make me wonder how or whether some of the very things that attract people--namely, the scenic roads along the ocean and through the woods--can endure.  Perhaps more important, though, is how the psyche, if you will, of the place might change.  I couldn't help but to feel a more--for lack of a better term--sober atmosphere than I'd seen before.  Even the tourists, whether the motorcyclists along the A1A or the college students and other tourists out for the long weekend, didn't seem as carefree as in times past.

I hope some of the joy will return--accompanied, of course, by a safer environment for cyclists -- in Florida and elsewhere.  As long as people are cycling, I have hope.  And as long as I can pedal, whether to a milestone or no place in particular, I have at least one source of joy in my life.    

For the occasion of this milestone, here is a "4000" bike--an early '80's classic from Panasonic:

Panasonic DX-4000, circa 1981

Will He Give Them The Freedom To Be Themselves?

During my ride to St. Augustine on Sunday, I realized who is cleaning up the mess Hurricane Ian left:

I don't doubt they are still at work, even if it's taken a toll on their relationship

or detracted from the joy he could bring to some human

I have to hand it to those folks, though:  They have a sense of humor about themselves.

Like so much humor, however, it has its dark origins:

Am I the only one who saw a gun in the Ron De Santis campaign sign?

Of course it's a stylized map of Florida. I can't help but to think, though, that its creators stylized it as they did to fit De Santis'--and many of his supporters'--interpretation of "free." As in:  You have a right to as many guns as you want, whenever you want them.  But not to terminate a pregnancy, or any sort of healthcare or education, or a living wage.  Oh, and if you're a teacher or in the LGBTQ rainbow, you have no more rights to, well, anything.

If De Santis is re-elected, I suspect I may see more "skeleton crews" if and when I ride in Florida again.