What's A Cyclist Worth? In Florida, Not Even A Fine

I don't think of myself as a vengeful person.  At the same time, there are people I want to see punished, or at least castigated, for their misdeeds.

Moreover, I have come to realize that you can tell what a person's status is, or was, in his or her community or society by the sort of penalty meted out to someone who commits a crime against, or otherwise causes harm to, that person.

Now, I'm not going to say "Don't get me started about drivers who get off scot-free when they run down cyclists!" because, well, I am going to rant about that, whether or not anybody gets me started.

Specifically, I am going to rant and rave about one particular cyclist who was so victimized.  He has survived the ordeal, albeit with a fractured spine and deep bruises.  He hopes to get back on his bike sooner rather than later, but he still faces a long recovery from the injuries he incurred a month ago today.

A 65-year-old motorist named Dennis Brophy, of Fort Pierce, Florida, was in the process of inhaling a "breathing treatment" when he drove his 2016 Chevy Cruze straight into the back of a cyclist who, like him, was traveling south on Old Dixie Highway.  Brophy admitted he suffers from sleep apnea and said, according to the incident report, that he was "blinded by the light" and "never saw" the cyclist he struck.

That was at 8:03 am.   The cyclist would spend the next two days in the Lawnwood Medical Center's ICU.  Meantime, Brophy went home without even a citation for plowing into the cyclist, whom he could have just as easily killed.

Alan Snel, after a motorist struck him from behind

That cyclist is Alan Snel.  Perhaps you know him from reading his "Bicycle Stories" blog.  You may also know, or know of, him from his extensive cycling advocacy, or from his work as a journalist in Nevada and Florida.  It seems, though, that to Florida law enforcement officials, he was--as he says--"collateral damage", or simply someone who got in the way of a motorist who couldn't be bothered to swerve a couple of feet out of his way.

Alan's bicycle

Although I have had some very pleasant experiences of cycling in Florida, I also realized that it is a very auto-centric place.  From what I have seen, I would guess that the vast majority of cyclists are adults, many of--as we say--"a certain age".  Yet, too often, people entrusted to uphold the law and support public safety seem to see cyclists as people who won't grow up and drive and who therefore "bring it on themselves" when they are endangered or, worse, injured or killed by motorists.

Alan's helmet

I was not surprised to learn that more cyclists are killed by motorists, in proportion to the population, in Florida than in any other state.  Furthermore, in every year since 2010, Florida's rate has been around 50 percent higher than the second-deadliest state in each of those years: Louisiana.  And in most of those cases, like Snel's, the driver faced minor or no charges.

Alan, in better times

As Snel recovers, he still needs money to cover living and other expenses.  So, friends and other supporters have started a YouCaring fundraiser for him.

A Motorist Strikes--And Shoots--A Cyclist In Florida

It's bad enough when any motorist's vehicle strikes any cyclist.  It's even worse, at least in some ways, when said motorist does so intentionally.

What can be worse than that? 

An account that came my way provided an answer.  On Saturday, in Florida (surprise, surprise), on the Gulf Coast specifically, two men were cycling when they heard a car behind them. Before they could react, a driver them and knocked them to the ground.

Tire marks where a motorist struck--and shot--a cyclist.  (From WINK news.)

What makes this incident especially galling is that, according to investigations, the driver deliberately left the road to hit them.  Both cyclists saw that driver pilot the SUV past them, in the opposite direction, before circling around to approach them from behind, at a high rate of speed.

Oh, but it gets even worse. After driver struck them, the cyclists leapt and tried to flee.  The driver then got out of the SUV and shot one of the cyclists before getting back in and driving off.

Luckily for the cyclist who was shot, his injuries are non-life threatening.  

The Collier County Sheriff's Office says it has a "person of interest" but did not mention any suspects or a description of the shooter.

When A Motorist Pays For Endangering A Cyclist

As I've recounted in several (too many!) posts, cyclists are struck, or even killed, by motorists--and not much happens to the motorist.  If anything, the motorist is given tea and sympathy, and the cyclist is blamed for his or her own misfortune, even if the motorist was clearly violating the law. 

What does it take to hold a lawless driver to account?

I think the answer might have just come from San Antonio, Texas:  when the cyclist in question is a police officer on patrol.  

On the evening of 29 June, two San Antonio officers were patrolling the area around Cattleman's Square on bicycles.  They noticed a vehicle that made a turn without signaling and followed it until it stopped a few blocks later.  

One of the officers walked up to the driver, 22-year-old Jonathan Ray Martinez, and asked him to identify himself as the other officer parked his bicycle in front of the car Martinez was driving.  

Jonathan Ray Martinez

The officer who parked his bike noticed that Martinez was reaching into the center console and looked nervous.  Believing that Martinez might attack, he reached into the car to grab Martinez's hands.  He couldn't get a hold, and Martinez started to drive away.

The officer's arm was hit, and his bicycle was run over.  Another officer, in a car, started to chase, but lost, Martinez.  San Antonio police, however,  were able to link him to the incident through the license plate.  

Martinez was charged with aggravated assault on a public servant and was booked on an unrelated assault warrant.  His bail totaled $57,000.

Although I sometimes complain about the way police officers treat us, I am glad that the officer who tried to stop Martinez wasn't more seriously injured, and that Martinez is being punished for endangering a cyclist's life with a deadly weapon (his car).  But the cynic (or realist?) in me says that he would have gotten off with a lighter penalty had the person on the bicycle not been a police officer.

Gambling With Cyclists' Lives: Cara Cox Lost Hers

Here in New York City, those of us who ride often complain about the conditions of bike lanes and streets, and about the seeming hostility or cluelessness of some drivers.  While we all have our stories about the perils of the street, my experiences of cycling in other parts of the US have shown me that, poorly-conceived bike lanes notwithstanding, we have it a little better than riders in other parts of the country.

Other municipalities and states, I believe, actually are more hazardous than the Big Apple.  One reason, I think, is that much of the nation, particularly in parts of the South and West, are more automobile-centric than this city.  Cyclists are still seen  as anomalies in many places. As a result, drivers don't know what to do when they see us.  Some even feel resentment and hostility toward us for being on "their" roadway.

One city with such conditions, it seems, is Las Vegas.  I was there once, nearly three decades ago, and from what I understand, the city's permanent population has exploded and, as a result, traffic is much denser than it was back then.  So it's not surprising that I've been hearing and reading that 'Vegas has a "problem" with bike-car collisions and that it has a large number of fatlities in proportion to its population.

Cara Cox

The latest such casualty is Cara Cox, who was struck by a 74-year-old motorist more than two months ago.  She lay in a coma until her death the other day.  Ms. Cox thus became the ninth cyclist to be killed by a motorist in the Las Vegas area this year. A month before  her accident, 500 cyclists particpated in a safety awareness rally and ride in nearby Summerlin.  The eighth cyclist to be killed, Matthew Hunt, brought them together. "[M]atthew did everything right," according to his brother, Jason. "At this point, it's up to the drivers to pay attention," he added.

That some don't is the reason someone like Alan Snel can say, "Every bicyclist I know can share a story about a motorist endangering their safety."  Mr. Snel is a self-described "cyclist who pays the bills as a newspaper writer/reporter" who has written about Ms. Cara, Mr. Hunt and others who died after being struck by cars victims--as well as other stories about cycling in the area--for the Las Vegas Review-Journal.  He also writes a blog, Bicycle Stories, where I learned about Ms. Cara's tragic death.

"For the life of me, I can't understand how society accepts killed cyclists," he writes, "as just part of the regular carnage out there on the roads."

I couldn't have said it any better.  I hope that the day comes when there will be no need to say it at all.

Motorist Who Mowed Down Cyclist Arrested

On this blog, I have often decried the lackadaisical or even hostile response from law enforcement officials when a cyclist is maimed or killed by a motorist who was speeding, driving while impaired or operating the vehicle in some other illegal manner.

I also try to bring attention to law enforcement officials who are diligent in pursuing those who endanger or destroy lives by hurtling down the road inside two tons of steel.  In Michigan's Macomb County, just outside of Detroit, such work by the constables has led to the arrest of a man who blew through an intersection at 70 MPH, mowed down a cyclist who happened to be crossing the road, and didn't stop or even slow down.

Randy Menendez  

Randy Menendez, a 60-year-old father,  was riding his bike home from a friend's house at 6:27 pm on 3 February.  He'd planned to watch the Super Bowl with his family, according to his sister Roseanne Menendez.  He was crossing Groesbeck Highway in Warren when a gray Dodge Charger with a temporary tag in the rear window, and tinted side windows, struck him.  

He didn't make it. His clothes and mangled bike were scattered across the road.  



Some time after the crash, the driver had the Charger towed to a house in Detroit, where police found it under a tarp.  

The car, it turned out, had been leased.  That no doubt helped police in finding the driver, a 24-year-old man whose name hasn't yet been released.  He faces a charge of leaving the scene of a fatal crash, a felony that carries a 15-year sentence.

Although I commend the police officers' work, I have to wonder whether other charges will be brought against him.  At the risk of seeming vengeful, I'd like to be sure that someone who took a cyclist's--and father's--life with such seeming disregard won't get out for "good behavior" after, say, five years.

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.

Her Eyes Were Watching Amazon

 This story stokes my cynicism in so many ways.

A motorist struck a cyclist in Florida—the state that leads the US in the number of cyclists killed by motorists.

The driver was arrested.  I shouldn’t be so cynical, you say.  Well, I can’t help but to think the constables in Volusia County were diligent enough to apprehend the driver because someone captured the incident on video.

Oh, and the cyclist in question is Mike Chitwood—the Volusia County Sheriff.

Now, I am glad that, according to his tweets, he is recovering well from a fractured fibula and a gash caused by the car’s mirror. Having sustained similar injuries from being “doored,” I empathize with him.

But, in addition to the video and his position as Sheriff, there is another factor that led to a prompt arrest:  the driver, Paige Bergman, was shopping on Amazon on her phone—yes, while she was driving—when she struck Chitwood, who was on a 20-mile ride.

She was also charged with leaving the scene of an accident.  Unless they’re caught on video, hit-and-run drivers who hit cyclists are rarely arrested.

Apparently, Sheriff Chitwood isn’t the only person she hit: Online court records indicate that in December, she was arrested on domestic battery charges.

So, tell me:  Had she not been so flagrant, and had her victim not been a high-ranking county law enforcement officer, might she still be behind the wheel, looking at her screen instead of the road?

Mayor Wants To Hold Motorist Accountable In Latest Cyclist Death

Too often, a motorist kills or maims a cyclist and gets not much more than a traffic summons--or a sympathetic pat on the back from a police officer. 

The cynic in me, and other cyclists, believed that Umar Baig would be the latest such driver.  Last Sunday, in Brooklyn, he sped through a red light on Coney Island Avenue. Another driver, traveling on Avenue L, T-boned his car.  Both vehicles spun out of control. One of them struck 52-year-old Jose Alzorriz of Park Slope, who became the 19th cyclist killed on New York City streets in 2019.  

Baig was briefly held and released.  The NYPD says it will charge him, but they did not say with what. Presumably, they will come to a determination after working with the Brooklyn District Attorney.

If Mayor Bill de Blasio has his way, Baig will not be the next driver to get tea and sympathy, and maybe a ticket.  "If you kill someone through your negligence, maybe that's not murder one, I'm not a lawyer, but I'd say it should be a serious, serious charge, with many years in prison" he declared. "It's not that that something unavoidable happened," he explained. "He blew through a red light at high speed, and someone is gone now, a family is grieving."

Let's hope that the Brooklyn DA and the NYPD see the situation as the Mayor has seen it.   Already, nearly twice as many cyclists have been killed in 2019--with more than a third of the year to go--as in all of 2018.

Who And What We Need

When I was writing for a newspaper, a law enforcement official told me, off-record, that there are instances in which bodies are found but investigations aren't conducted. Or, said investigations are begun but lead nowhere quickly.   Then the bodies end up in a potter's field, donated for medical research, cremated--or simply, in the words of that official, "disappeared".  

The reason, he said, is the same as what probably caused those bodies to end up where they were found:   "Nobody knows them," he explained.  "And nobody will miss them."

I am thinking about that encounter, many years past, in light of writing about Alan Snel a few days ago.  Two months ago, as he was cycling down Old Dixie Highway in Florida when a motorist drove straight into his back.  Now he is moving back to Nevada, where he had lived and worked before arriving in the Sunshine State.   In his open letter to Governor Rick Scott, he wrote, "you and the political leaders just don't care enough to do anything to keep cyclists alive in your state."  

"Care" is, I now realize, the key word.  As articulate and energetic as Alan is, and as numerous as we (cyclists) may be, there is only so much we can accomplish if we don't have other people--whether or not they are cyclists--who care.  

My experiences as a transgender woman have taught me as much.  Lesbians, gay men, bisexuals, transgenders and others who don't fit into traditional notions about sexual and gender identity, by ourselves, are much more vulnerable to bigotry and violence when we are seen as the exceptions and the freaks--in other words, when other people cannot, or do not, see us as one of them.  And, people start to understand that we are as worthy of the same rights as they have when we are their sisters, brothers, parents, friends and colleagues.  

The same is true of cyclists, I believe.  Too often, we are seen as renegades or as members of some "over-privileged" group.  Or, people who don't ride think our lives are less valuable because we, for whatever reasons, aren't driving instead of pedaling.  On more than one occasion, I've heard people say, in essence, that the cyclist "had it coming" to him or her when he or she was struck or run down by a car or truck.

At such moments, we--cyclists--are an abstraction or bogeymen, and the word "cyclist" becomes an epithet.  That is because we are not seen as writers, teachers, engineers, carpenters or other professionals or tradespeople--or business people--who happen to ride bikes.  And we are also not thought of as someone's sibling or mother or father.

It's a lot easier to blame a victim you don't know anything about.  But when the person who's hit or run down is a loved one, finger-pointing and excuse-making just won't do.  Instead, you want answers.



Who?  How?  Why?  Those are the questions Jessica Martinez is asking, I imagine.  Police in San Antonio, Texas found her gravely injured father, Santiago Castillo, on the side of a street on the city's East Side.  Skid marks on the scene indicate that Castillo and his bicycle were dragged as much as 50 yards and a surveillance video from a nearby home show that two vehicles, including a dark SUV, struck him.

What makes this incident particularly egregious is that, according to the neighbor, one of the drivers stopped--to remove Castillo's bicycle from his car.  "So they had enough time to get [the bicycle] out of the bumper," said Linda Garcia, another relative of Castillo.  "But they didn't have enough time to wait there with him."  He lay on the street, at the intersection of Denver and Piedmont, until police arrived and he was rushed to the hospital.

Santiago Castillo, a 61-year-old father, died half an hour later.

I don't know whether Linda Garcia or Jessica Martinez ride, or have ever ridden, bicycles.  But someone they love has been killed by a hit-and-run driver.  He was a cyclist.  And they want answers.

He Thinks He'll Be Out In 30 Days

It's bad enough to be struck or "doored" by a motorist who "didn't see" you even though you were dressed in reflective and fluorescent clothing and had your "blinkies" flashing even though it was midday.

And it's galling that, too often, such motorists get "slapped on the wrist" or incur no penalty at all.  Moreover, the cyclist, especially if he/she/they doesn't survive the "accident" is likely to be blamed, even if, in addition to wearing the bright vetements I described, also donned a helmet and obeyed all traffic laws.

What could be worse?

Perhaps what Jesus Ayala and Jzamir Keys did.

On 14 August, the duo joyrode four stolen cars--in a single day--and struck two cyclists and a car intentionally.

Yes, you read that right.  There is no conjecture about their intentions:  As Ayala drove the vehicles, Keyes filmed their "adventures" from the passenger side.  In the video, they can be heard laughing as Ayala drove into retired police officer Andreas Probst as he cycled down a Las Vegas street.  When Probst bounced off the windshield and onto the side of the road, one of the teens said to the other, "We gotta get outta here."

Yes, they are teens:  Keys is 16 and Ayala has turned 18 since the incident.  That means Ayala could be moved to an adult jail from the juvenile facility where he's been held since his arrest.  Keys fled and was caught a month later.

Ayala predicts, "I'll be out in 30 days, I'll bet you."  His reasoning, he said, is that it was "just a hit-and-run."

Except for a couple of small details.  In addition to injuring the other cyclist, who was not identified, Ayala's antics killed Probst. 

The cynic in me says that law enforcement officials are taking it more seriously than they might have because one of their own died.  But even if that is the case, I hope that it leads to Ayala getting the sort of punishment any driver deserves, but too rarely gets, for striking and killing a cyclist.  He won't have much to laugh about then. 

Cyclist Struck By Hate

It’s one thing when a motorist strikes a cyclist accidentally.

It’s something else when done with intention.

But I’ve heard of few things more despicable than this:



The driver not only drove into a Black Lives Matter protester on a bicycle intentionally; she made a point of expressing her hate.

The latest report says the cyclist’s injuries are not life-threatening. But he may have emotional scars that will take a long time to heal, if they ever do.

I am no lawyer, but I reckon that the woman should be charged, at the very least, with assault with a deadly weapon.

The Incredible Shrinking Distance Between Bikes And Cars

Apparently, I am not the only one who perceives what I am about to describe.  Moreover (How many times have I used that word on this blog?), there is empirical evidence to back it up.

In New York City, where I live, as well as other American municipalities, there are more bike lanes than at any time since, probably, the 1890s bike boom. Of course, that is not to say that you can get from anywhere to anywhere you want or need to go in a lane separated from traffic, but you can spend at least some of your cycling time secluded from large motor vehicles.

Well, at least in theory, that's possible.  But there is something else that's mitigating against cyclists' safety.  As more "cycling infrastructure" is being built (too often, from misconceptions about cycling and traffic), motor vehicles are getting bigger.  Twenty years ago, a typical family vehicle was a Toyota Camry or some other sedan.  Today, it is a sport-utility vehicle (SUV) like the Kia Ascent or pickup truck like the Ford F-150. As an infographic from Transportation Alternatives shows, that means the typical amount of "elbow room" between a cyclist and a vehicle has shrunk from 18 inches to 4 (46 to 10 cm), a reduction of about 75 percent.

The trend toward larger vehicles began and accelerated well before cities like New York started to build bike lanes.  So, encounters between motor vehicles and cyclists were already getting closer.  That means drivers can't use the excuse that bike lanes were "taking away" their space for driving.  

On the other hand, as I've said in other posts, lines of paint does not a bike lane make.  Many family vehicles*  on the road today take up the entire width of a traffic lane.  So, if someone is driving their Toyota 4Runner to their kid's school or soccer practice and is trying to pass another driver, or has to swerve for any other reason, there's a good chance that the SUV will veer, or even careen, into the bike lane. At least one driver has done exactly that right in front of me.

Of course, a couple of lines of paint or a "neutral" buffer strip between a bike and traffic or parking lane won't protect a cyclist--or change a motorist's behavior--in such a situation.  Then again, so-called "protected" lanes don't, either:  Most of the objects used to segregate lanes, like bollards or planters, are easy to knock over, especially with a multiton vehicle.  

The size and weight of the vehicles presents another problem.  Safety experts say that driving even a mid-sized SUV like the Buick Enclave, let alone a full-sized one like the Cadillac Escalade, is more like driving a truck than a family sedan of the 1990s.  With all due respect to all of those parents who ferry their kids and aging parents, most of them don't have the driving skills of someone who operates a long-hauler.**  So, Sarah or Seth driving their Honda CR-V to pick up Ian or Beth can easily misjudge the distance between them and other vehicles--or pedestrians or cyclists. Worse, the larger size and heavier weight of their vehicles means that a blow that might have struck a pedestrian or cyclist in the middle of their body and caused damage that could be serious but was probably survivable had the vehicle been a Honda Accord or Ford Escort could, instead, trap the benighted person riding along the street or crossing it underneath the grille or the vehicle itself.

So, while the effort, if not the results, to build "bicycle infrastructure" is laudable, it won't make much difference in cycling (or pedestrians') safety if typical family vehicles continue to grow in size, along with the sense of entitlement that some drivers have.

*--I'm not talking about delivery trucks and the like, which have remained more or less constant in size.

**--Although I've never driven such conveyances, I am aware of the differences in driving skills between people who drive them and the average driver:  One of my uncles and a close friend, both departed, drove trucks for a living and another uncle and a cousin did so for significant parts of their working lives.

 

Death While Training For A Memorial

For the past several years, Florida has been the state in which a cyclist has the greatest chance of being killed by a motorist.

That point was underscored, for me, by a story that came my way.  The other day, Deputy Sheriff Frank Scofield was training for a memorial ride to honor 9/11 victims when he was--you guessed it--struck from behind. 

The motorist who ended his life on a county road blew through a stop sign. But that motorist wasn't a "good ol' boy" in a pickup truck or some drunken sunburned youth.  Rather, the driver in question is 75-year-old Lajos Toth of Lake Helen.

Deputy Sheriff Frank Scofield

The road where Deputy Scofield took his last ride is County Road 415 in Volusia County.  You might the collision "hit home" for me because Volusia is the county directly south of the one in which my parents live.  Just about every time I visit my parents, at least one bike ride takes me into the county, which includes Daytona and Ormond Beaches and The Casements.  

Frank Scofield was training for a ride to commemorate 9/11 victims.  Now I am writing a post to remember him.

Danger In My Backyard

As I've mentioned in other posts, for several years running, Florida is the US state where a cyclist is in the most danger of being killed by a motorist.  No other state comes close in that category.

Of course, that doesn't mean the Sunshine State has a monopoly on intoxicated or distracted drivers, supersized diesel-powered pickup trucks with bodies customized to take up an entire roadway, drag racers (though the state is home to Daytona) or inherently dangerous roads.

As for the last item on that list:  The single most dangerous road (excluding Interstates and other highways where bicycles are prohibited) for cyclists in the United States is in my home state of New York.  In fact, it's in my backyard.

All right, since I'm an apartment dweller, I don't have a backyard.  What I mean is that said thoroughfare is near me.  In fact, I've crossed, though not ridden, on it a number of times.

According to the Nassau County and Hempstead Police Departments, drivers struck 320 cyclists and pedestrians on the 16 mile-long Hempstead Turnpike (a.k.a. New York State Route 24) between 2011 and 2021. Mind you, that is only the number of such incidents the constables know about through 911 calls.  Of said victims, 13 died.  Another six were killed just during the past year.  The road is so dangerous for cyclists and pedestrians, in fact, that most of the fatalities were cyclists or pedestrians trying to cross the road so they could continue along one of the many streets that intersect with it.  

The most impatient and hot-tempered drivers I've ever encountered, anywhere were along that road.  When the light turns green, it's like a dam opening: a torrent of vehicles rushes through.  Woe be to a cyclist or pedestrian, even one in a wheelchair, who happens to be in the path of that storm surge.

OK, so I mixed my metaphors a bit. But I think you have at least a partial picture of what I'm talking about.  The drivers are indeed in a hurry to get to the store or through the next red light, but if someone wanted to design a traffic conduit that would bring out the worst in such drivers, he or she could hardly come up something that better fits the purpose than the Hempstead Turnpike.

Photo by Levi Mandel

One problem is that, in some stretches, it's even wider than an Interstate (like an Autobahn or Autoroute).  Through most of its length, it has eight lanes of traffic, with dividers that are low to the ground or nothing more than lines painted on the asphalt.  Also in keeping with the worst in highway design, it has no bike or pedestrian lane or, for most of its length, sidewalks.  

But unlike superhighways, it's not elevated or in a trench:  It's at the same level as other streets.  And, as it passes through residential and suburban residential neighborhoods, many two-lane and one-way streets cross it.  That means many people must cross in order to get to work or school or go home.

What exacerbates all of these deficiencies is that the Hempstead Turnpike begins in an area of southeastern Queens that has one of the highest population densities in the United States but almost no mass transportation.  That means people are car-dependent.  That part of Queens is also relatively low-income and has few stores besides bodegas and small grocery stores.  Thus, residents of that area frequently drive to the Nassau section of the highway, with its abundant stores (including supermarkets and chain stores), which offer more variety and lower prices.  

Also, many residents work in those stores and in other area businesses.  Meanwhile, the fact that on its Queens end, the highway connects with the Grand Central Parkway--a major artery to western Queens and Manhattan--also guarantees that many Nassau County residents drive their daily commutes on it.

When the Hempstead Turnpike isn't clogged with traffic--on most days, only from about 2 to 4 in the morning--it becomes our local version of Daytona.  Sometimes the wannabe racers even test the limits of their machines, in speed and maneuverability, when there's traffic.  The worst part is that they're not the only ones exceeding the 30- to- 40 mph speed limit.  In fact, according to a grim joke or local folk wisdom (depending on whom you believe), police officers give tickets to drivers who don't speed because they're the ones the cops can catch .

Having crossed the Hempstead Turnpike many times, I'm not surprised to learn that it's officially the most dangerous road in this region, and probably the nation.  Ironically, when I was "doored" nearly two years ago, I had just crossed the Hempstead Turnpike.  It wouldn't surprise me if the driver who opened her door into my path--or the drivers who honked their horns out of frustration over having to stop for a cyclist lying in their path--had just turned off the Turnpike.

A Ride Of Silence To Speak For Him

In Greek tragedies, the hero falls to a combination of circumstances and his or her personal failings or shortcomings.

One of the reasons such stories endure is that they make the world make some kind of sense.  The combination of situation and personal flaw give a sense of symmetry, if not justice, to the demise of the hero.

Of course, it doesn't always work out that way in life.  Sometimes a person meets his or her fate due to an incident that he or she did not bring on and cannot control.

Such is the story of Roger Grooters, who went on a ride to help people whose lives were changed for the worse by a circumstance not of their making.  

Eight years ago, the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill (better known as the BP Oil Spill) spewed seemingly endless streams of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico, befouling beaches in five US states and Mexico and leaving birds, fish and marine mammals sick, helpless or even dead.  Grooters wanted to help the people from whom the spill their property, livelihoods and health.  

His pastor and fellow church congregants told him there was nothing tangible he could do.  He thought otherwise.  So, on 10 September of that year, he got on his bicycle in Oceanside, California, near San Diego, with the intention of reaching Jacksonville, Florida.  He documented his trip, which raised $12,000, on a blog called Roger X Country.

The name of that blog has been changed to We Ride For Roger.  A little more than a month after he started his ride, a pickup truck was barreling down State Road 20 just outside of Panama City, in the Florida Panhandle.  The driver was texting and--unfortunately, you can guess what happened next:  He plowed right into the back of Grooters.

You can probably guess what happened next:  He didn't make it to Jacksonville.  He didn't make it, period.  His ride ended after 2179.4 miles, or about 300 miles short of his destination.

The following year, a group of cyclists that included some of his family members gathered at the crash site and continued his ride to Jacksonville.  He rode to raise awareness of the victims of one disaster; they were riding to raise awareness of the victims of the kinds of disasters that occur all too frequently on roadways in Florida and elsewhere.

The Ride Of Silence

A cyclist has a greater chance of being killed by a motorist in the Florida than in any other state in the Union.  I am sure that at least some of the 100 riders who gathered yesterday at Pensacola State College were aware of that. They participated in a seven-mile "Ride of Silence" along the city's streets in drizzle and rain.  At the beginning of the ride, organizers read the names of dozens of cyclists who have been killed while riding in the Florida Panhandle as bagpipers played "Amazing Grace".

The riders wore armbands--black for those who'd never been struck by a car, red for those who had.  I couldn't find a count, but from the photos I saw, the red bands were numerous.

Oh, by the way....The driver was so immersed in his texting that he didn't realize what he'd hit until the police stopped him.  He was cited and fined but never apologized to Roger Grooters' family.

The Bike Czar In A Black Dress

In the past decade or so, cities all over North America and Europe have tried--sometimes in misguided ways--to encourage more people to ride bikes to work and school, for shopping and for fun.  Lanes have been built, share programs started and commissions and committees organized or appointed--and organizations consulted--for insights into what would lure people out of four-wheeled vehicles and onto two-wheelers.  In some cities, these efforts have been followed by (if not resulted in) rapidly-increasing numbers of cyclists.

Atlanta, it seems, has not been one of those cities.  Nearly three years ago, Mayor Kasim Reed set a goal of making  his city one of the most "bike friendly" in the US by this year.  Much to his credit, he has worked hard toward that goal in a city with some of the worst traffic and longest commutes in the nation.  But,  a torrent of anti-bike backlash caused the Georgia Department of Transportation to remove bike lanes from its plans to re-stripe Peachtree Road, one of the busiest thoroughfares in the city.  And the bike share program, scheduled to begin before the end of 2015, now won't launch until this coming summer.

On the other hand, Dogwood City has just made a bold move that no other community--no, not even Portland or Minneapolis--has ventured.  One of the problems in most cities is that bicycle lanes and other infrastructure come under the purview of the local Department of Transportation or its equivalent.  Because there are many more motorists than cyclists (yes, even in the Rosebud and Mill Cities) and because bicycle infrastructure commands relatively small sums of money, bicycling is usually not a high priority in most DoTs.  In most places, there is not a full-time planner, engineer, organizer or lawyer who deals exclusively or even mainly with cycling-related issues.  Thus, there is neither an advocate nor an ombudsman for cycling in most places.

It looks as if "The Big Peach" might have solved that problem.  Last month,  the city hired Becky Katz as its first Chief Bicycle Officer.  The Atlanta Bicycle Coalition made the position possible, in large part, and received a five-year grant from the Atlanta Falcons Youth Foundation to help fund it.  The city has promised to add additional money.

Becky Katz

I knew nothing about Ms. Katz until I read about her appointment today.  If nothing else, she has firsthand knowledge of what cyclists in "The Big A" face:  She is a cyclist who, last year, was rear-ended by a motorist while she was riding on a wide street with low traffic.  The impact tossed her onto the windshield, where her helmet shattered the glass and she broke a shoulder socket  and wrist.  Her bike was totaled. 

Within two months, she'd bought another bike and was on it, even more determined to make cycling safer and more accessible in her city.  "Within moments [of being struck], I was thinking, 'this has got to be better.'"  She also realized that making streets safer for cyclists would also mean making them safer for motorists.

Since becoming the city's bike czar in October, Katz has been focusing on gathering data about cyclists--where and when they ride, where there are crashes and which roads are most stressful to cyclists and pedestrians.  "Data builds a strong case for why bike infrastructure can help all users of the road," she explains.

It may also--I hope--Atlanta avoid some of the mistakes other cities have made.  If it does, the delay in starting the bike share program or cancellation of bike lanes on Peachtree Road may turn out to benefit the community of cyclists in the Empire City of the South.

No Lump Of Coal In Their De-Feet Socks

Senator Joe Manchin may be doing more than anyone in the United States to perpetuate an obsolete industry:  coal mining and energy.

That's not surprising given that he represents West Virginia, the second-leading coal-producing state in the US.  

What's also not surprising is that in 2008, when the League of American Bicyclists issued its first reports of states' bicycle-friendliness, the Mountain State ranked dead last.  In 2019, when LAB released its last pre-pandemic report, West Virginia had moved up to 34th.

Now it's 28th, right in the middle of the pack.  The LAB rates each state in five areas:  Infrastructure & Funding, Education & Encouragement, Traffic Laws & Practices, Policies & Programs and Education & Planning.  In the first and last categories, WV got a B- and C+, respectively, and a C in each of the other categories.  One area in which the state seriously lags behind others is in the percentage of commuters who bike to work:  It's about half the national average and, at 47th, near the bottom of the list.

Massachusetts was named the most bike-friendly state.  My home state, New York, ranks 13th and, being New York, it ranks very well in most areas but very poorly in others.  In Infrastructure & Funding and Education & Encouragement, the Empire State got an A-.  In Policies & Programs and Evaluation & Planning, it earned a B+. But on Traffic Laws & Practices, it rates an F+. (As an educator, I have to ask:  What's the difference between a D-, which I've given once or twice as a grade, and an F+, which I don't think I've ever given.)  I am not surprised, really:  If the rest of the state is anything like the NYC Metro area, I can say that the state is doing the things policy makers think they're supposed to do to promote cycling:  starting education programs, building lanes and such.  But the laws and, more important, law enforcement, have not kept pace:  We are one of 11 states without a safe-passing law and we don't have the "Idaho Stop," or any version of it. 

Also, I have to say that for all that's been spent on bike lanes, the folks who conceive, plan, design and build them seem to have no better an idea than their counterparts of 50 years ago had about what makes for a good bike lane:  It has to be useful, free of hazards and planned so that it's actually safer than riding in traffic.  None that I've ridden are structured in a way that a cyclist can cross an intersection without having to worry about being struck by a turning motorist.

On the whole, the LAB's rankings don't surprise me much:  After the Bay State, Oregon and Washington rank second and third, respectively. All of the states ranked from 30th to 50th, with the exception of New Hampshire (34th) are south of the Potomac or west of the Mississippi.  

Which state ranks last?  Wyoming, the nation's leading coal producer.