Crossing That Bridge--If You Can Get To It

Two years ago, the new Kosciuszko Bridge opened between Queens and Brooklyn.  While I didn't dislike the look of the old span, industrial and utilitarian as it is, I think the new one is much more pleasing to look at, especially at night.

One thing that neither span had, though, is access for cyclists or pedestrians.  Even though I subscribe to John Forester's idea of "cycles as vehicles", at least to a point, there was no way I would have ridden across either span, even if it were permitted.  There are simply too many vehicles driven by impatient people across a roadway that, in spots, has rather poor sight lines.  And while I normally feel confident about truck drivers, too many rigs cross the bridge on any given day, which is to be expected when industrial areas line the shores of Newtown Creek, the body of sludge and slicks spanned by the bridge.

The new span is really one of two that was planned.  The other is set to open later this year and include a  20-foot-wide path for cyclists and pedestrians in either direction.  That sounds good, right?

Well, it is, except for one thing:  How do you get to the bridge?  I have ridden the streets that lead to it many times, as they are only about 5 kilometers from my apartment.  I actually like some of those streets, as they wind through a patchwork of old industrial sites, graveyards, disused railroad tracks and the turbid creek. But other streets are simply narrow and warren-like conduits for short-tempered drivers.

That is why I have mixed feelings about the New York City Department of Transportation's plans to build a network of bicycle and pedestrian access lanes on the streets that approach the bridge.  The DOT's reports say that some of the streets are "overly wide".  They are indeed wider than other city streets.  But when you consider that much of the traffic consists of trucks, it's actually a tighter squeeze than people realize.  And there are places, like this stretch of 43rd Street in Queens, where there is "no way out":

I actually have ridden there, with caution.  A "lane" separated from motor traffic by only lines of paint would actually put cyclists in greater danger, as such lanes seem to engender a false sense of safety in cyclists and encourage more aggressive behavior on the part of motorists. And the "sidewalk" on the left side leads from a lane of traffic to an entrance of the Queens-Midtown Expressway. I know:  I took it by mistake!

And I am not impressed with the DOT's plans for other streets in the area.  Given the agency's track record, I don't expect that the "network" they plan will provide safe, meaningful connections from residential areas, schools and workplaces clustered just below Queens Boulevard.  Unless there is a network of paths that is as well-planned as the motor vehicle routes to the bridge, I don't think this new network will encourage anyone to ride for transportation:  People who aren't already regular riders simply won't feel safe, with good reason.

For The Skyway, Higher Goals Than For The High Line, I Hope

There are many definitions of a "true New Yorker."

Here's one:  We don't go to the Statue of Liberty, and we wouldn't be caught dead in Times Square (at least in its current iteration)--or on the High Line.

I took a walk up on the High Line once, shortly after it opened.  At the time, I was recovering from my surgery and couldn't ride my bicycle.  I liked the idea of taking an old industrial railroad viaduct and turning it into a venue lined with art, plants and unusual buildings, from which one could take in some stunning views of the skyline and even the sky itself.

The next time I went, a few months later, I was on my bicycle.  I knew riding wasn't allowed, but I discovered that you couldn't even bring your bike onto the High Line.  And I wasn't about to lock it up on the street.

So I returned another day, sans bike.  I found myself hating the place, but not only because I couldn't ride my bike.  What I realized is that the High Line is just another tourist trap offering a sanitized view of the city--except, of course, for the part where you get to see inside the apartments that line part of the High Line.  I'm long past being titillated by what people do in their own rooms, on their own time!

Anyway, other cities are starting to think about ways they could use abandoned or disused railroad trestles, elevated highways and other kinds of viaducts.  One of those cities is at the other end of New York State: Buffalo.

Like other industrial towns in the "Rust Belt", the Nickel City has gone through some very hard times.  That has left abandoned and seemingly-obsolete structures.  They won't lure young people with education or money back into town unless they're used in appealing ways.

 

One such structure is the city's Skyway.  Slated for demolition, it's now the subject of a $100,000 contest for alternative ideas.  One such idea is to turn the old highway into an urban linear park for "use by bicycles and pedestrians, like the High Line."

The local news media report, of course, has misconceptions about the High Line.  Now, if they actually allow bicyclists on the Skyway and make it truly pedestrian-friendly--unlike the High Line, which is clogged with herds of tourists that move at an amoebic pace and stop for sunbathing and "selfies"--they might have something that could help turn Buffalo into a livable, sustainable city.

Fleeing: Speed Without Skill

A rush of adrenaline might make you stronger and faster, or at least feel as if you are.  It does not, however, improve your cycling skills.

Raymond Rodriguez of Roseburg, Oregon discovered that the hard way.  Around 3:50 this past Saturday morning, a police officer tried to stop him.  He took off--and crashed.

It's not the first time I've heard of someone crashing while trying to flee on bicycle.  My guess is that Rodriguez, like most criminals, is not an experienced cyclist--or, at least, he was riding under greater stress than normal. 

Anyway, after crashing, he did what almost all would-be fugitives do in such a situation:  He tried to continue on foot.  And he met the same fate as those others:  He was caught in short order.   And arrested.

While in custody, cops found methamphetamine on him.  He was jailed for that, and interfering with police, but has since been released.  

Maybe now he can work on his high-speed cycling skills.

This Bicycle Plan May Be Exceptional

One of my graduate school classmates described Cambridge, Massachusetts--his hometown--as "Paradise."  That was some years ago, but from what I hear, it's still a nice, albeit expensive place to live.

It's been a while since I've been there, but I do recall some nice bike riding--and lots of cyclists-- in the town.  The number of riders, I suppose, shouldn't have surprised me, given the number of college campuses in and around the city.

One thing that my former classmate probably liked about his native burg is this:  It's a nice place that tries to improve itself.  At least, that seems to be true when it comes to cyclability.

Photo by David L.Ryan of the Boston Globe staff

The 2015 Cambridge Bicycle Plan is more extensive and better thought-out than most other municipal bicycle plans. It calls for, among other things, a 20-mile network of protected bike lanes.  That, in itself, is impressive for a city that's about a quarter of the size of Manhattan, and a population of 113,630. What makes this plan all the more impressive is that it identifies particular streets and roads that need such lanes, and calls for them to be physically separated by more than lines painted on the street.

Now the plan is getting "teeth," according to Sam Feigenbaum, a volunteer with Cambridge Bicycle Safety, a local advocacy group.  The other day, a new Cycling Safety Ordinance was passed, mandating that the city add permanent protected bike lanes when doing reconstruction on any roads identified in the Safety Plan. "The intent of the Ordinance," according to Feigenbaum, is that if "the bike plan says a street needs a protected lane, that street will get a protected lane."  

Mayor Marc McGovern says that prior to passing the law, a lot of time was spent debating whether the roads under construction would have bike infrastructure. While there will be opportunities for community input, he explains, "people can expect that the city is moving in this direction."

While the plan allows the City Manager--Louis dePasquale--to nix a particular lane based on a street's physical features, the use of the road or financial constraints, he would have to provide a written analysis of why the lane couldn't be built.  But, he says, those instances should be "rare in a layman's sense of the word" as well as in the context of the Ordinance, meaning something that is "infrequent, irregular and exceptional."

Actually, those three words can describe most bicycle-related policy in most US jurisdictions--when it exists at all.  But, for its newly-passed Ordinance, Cambridge is indeed exceptional, whether or not it's the "paradise" my old classmate described.

Change of Scenery

When I cycle to work, I follow the same basic route on most days.  Sometimes I'm detoured.  For example, about three years ago, the RFK Memorial Bridge was closed, so I had to go through the East Side of Manhattan rather than Randall's Island.  At other times, however, I take short side-trips that more or less parallel my normal commute.

This morning was one of those times.  For some reason, when I got to the Bronx side of the Randall's Island Connector, I decided to turn right rather than left on 133rd Street.  Then I took a left onto Walnut Avenue, which cuts through the industrial heart of Port Morris and ends at 141st Street.  Normally, I would take Willow Avenue, which parallels Walnut but ends at 138th Street.  

Along Willow Avenue, I pass a great piece of street art.  But on 141st, where I rode this morning, I encountered an even grander (OK, the artists themselves probably wouldn't use such a term!) urban artscape:

Tats Cru is a group of graffiti artists who have become muralists.  Depending on who you ask, they "evolved", "went mainstream" or "sold out".  I suspect that when they reached an age at which they had to support themselves, and possibly others, they took whatever someone was willing to pay for their work.  I can't say I blame them.

What it means is that some of their work, at least, will survive.  And so will they.  I am happy for that.  So many people and things haven't--except in the memories of people who've lived, and cycled, in this city.