Paris In The Bike Lane

If you were to ask, "What is the world's most bicycle-friendly city?", the answers you'd most commonly hear probably would be "Copenhagen" and "Amsterdam".

It would be difficult to argue against either.  And, although it's more bikeable than most American cities, not many people would put Paris ahead of either the Danish or Dutch capitals.

If you've been reading this blog, you know that I thoroughly enjoyed cycling in the City of Light.  That is not to say, however, that there isn't room for making it an even better place for cyclists than it is.  Mayor Anne Hidalgo recognizes as much, and has said that she wants not only to improve the cycling experience in her city, but to make the French capital into "the world's cycling capital".

Although one sees many bicycles and cyclists along the banks of the Seine, the portion of the population that rides regularly, let alone every day, is still fairly low, at least in comparison to places like Copenhagen and Amsterdam.  Nearly everyone agrees that one of the goals in making a city more "bike friendly" is to get people out of their cars and onto bike for their commutes, and to shop and visit the sights of the city.  That can be done when cycling is made available, affordable, safe and practical for those who are not, and do not wish to become, hard-core cyclists.

From what I can see, Paris has succeeded with the first two priorities:  You don't have to go very far to find a Velib station (or other bikes to rent or buy), and rental rates and purchase prices  are relatively reasonable.  The availability of Velib even well beyond city limits at least partially addresses the practicality issue.  But another part of it ties in with safety:  a coherent scheme of bike routes that cyclists can actually use to get to work, school or anyplace else from their homes and is physically separated from vehicular traffic.

The new Paris bike expressway.  Photo from a tweet by Marie Fugain.

Such networks are what separates Copenhagen and Amsterdam from nearly all other cities, according to Mikael Colville-Andersen,a  planner who regularly works with cities around the world to improve cycling conditions.  Of his native city, Copenhagen, he says, "Visitors who come for the first time will easily find their way around by bike because the network is uniform. That is not the case in Paris," where he points to "incoherent" choices like putting buses and bikes in the same lane on some roads.  Then there are "utterly stupid" ideas, he says, like the bicycle lane in the middle of the Champs-Elysees that is scheduled for completion next year.  "It will fail," he pronounces, because it will "lead to accidents" which will "give ammunition to the bike haters."

He does, however, see signs of improvement, like the new bike expressway" along the right bank of the Seine.  The route was created by taking two lanes from the Voie Georges Pompidou, a motorway that winds past the Louvre and the garden of the Tuileries, across the river from the Eiffel Tower.  This new "expressway" meets the standards of "Copenhagenization" in that it runs in a continuous axis in both directions, has enough room for cyclists to pass each other and has a separator between the bike and auto lanes, according to Colville-Andersen.

He says it could be the start of a bicycle network that could take its inspiration from another network for which Paris is justly renowned: its Metro.

They Keep Going Even When There's No Gas

Here in the US, one normally expects to see a bicycle-mounted police officer in a park, on a college campus or in some other place where there are narrow alleys or paths, like large housing complexes.

It seems, however, that cities and towns are figuring out that such patrols can be very useful in downtown areas.  If you have cycled in such places, as I so often have, you know that you can often reach a given destination before a car or bus, especially when traffic is heavy.

That is basically the reason why there are still bike messengers, even when offices have scanners and e-mail systems.  Some things require that actual people physically sign for them, or have to be delivered by hand for other reasons.  When I was a messenger, I routinely made trips from Midtown to the Wall Street area in five to ten minutes that would have taken twenty minutes to half an hour in a motorized vehicle.

But I digress.  Now ever-smaller cities and towns are seeing the usefulness of bicycle patrols.

One such municipality is Wimberley, in the south-central part of Texas, between Austin and San Antonio. With less than 3000 residents, it doesn't have its own police station, so it depends mainly on deputies from the Hays County Constable and the county sheriff's department to respond to emergencies.

As often as not, those emergencies are the cause of traffic congestion in the downtown area.  Emergency trucks have an especially difficult time getting to the scene of an accident, explosion or some other emergency quickly.  In situations like those, saving seconds can mean saving a life.  And, as Constable Ray Helm explains, "those guys on their bikes can get there within 20 seconds" when it might take minutes for a first responders' vehicle. Also, "they can access different parts of the city trucks can't," he notes.

Also, those quick arrivals make it more likely for officers to de-escalate tense situations, like the ones that unfolded this weekend when gas stations ran out of fuel. Tempers flared, and the officers on bicycles avoided traffic tie-ups and were thus might have arrived just in time to prevent a fracas.

In sending constable's deputies on bicycles, the department was also able to use less of its own gasoline--which, of course saves money.  I am sure that would sway a few folks who might not be moved by the other benefits--such as improved community relations (Officers and the public deal with each other face-to-face rather than through a metal encasement.) that accrue from getting officers out of their cars and onto bikes.

To Find A Bike, Go Where The Donuts Are

Years ago, a fellow but very-senior faculty member was observing and evaluating one of my classes.  She wrote favorably of me, though she commented on my seeming lack of confidence.  "Remember, you are doing God's work," she told me.

I was taken aback because I hadn't taken her for a religious person.  For that matter, I was somewhat surprised--for reasons I can't recall--that she would even invoke a deity.  Perhaps I had assumed, wrongly, that she would share most other humanities faculty members'--and my--non-religiosity.

(I sometimes joke that the Carmelite nuns of my school tried to beat the devil out of me but exorcised me of my faith instead.)

Anyway, I think it's fair to ask this:  If there is indeed a god, what would that god's work be?

Of course, being a cyclist and bike blogger, I'd like to think that it somehow involves bicycles and bicycling.  Benjamin Franklin once quipped that beer is a sign that God loves us and wants us to be happy.  I would say the same about bicycles.

And, if God's work does involve bicycles, could a bakery be a theatre, staging area or workshop?

Larry Batten is the coordinator of Chain Reaction Ministries.  The program, based in The First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) of Oklahoma City, provides bikes for people who need basic transportation to get to their jobs.  Not surprisingly, most of the recipients have recently started their jobs or work for low wages.  Among their ranks, also not surprisingly, are some recovering addicts and new or recent parolees.

Chain Reaction Ministries coordinator Larry Batten

The point of the program, according to Batten, is to help such people get back on track with their lives.  That is the reason why, he says, the bikes aren't given to just anybody. "We are providing a hand up, not a handout," he explains.  Thus, the program requires takes  would-be recipients who are referred by various agencies, and requires those would-be recipients to present some sort of proof of employment.

The program has grown much faster than he or anyone else imagined.  So, they are almost always in need of bikes and parts. Sometimes bikes are stripped for parts, while the more expensive ones are traded at nearby Al's Bicycles for tires, tubes, chains and other parts that are needed continuously.  "Al's been amazing to us," Batten says.

His search for bikes sometimes goes far and wide.  One thing he  learned, however, is to go where the bikes are--or, more precisely, where the bikes might be.  Hence program volunteer Tom Russell's trip to Brown's Bakery.  It seems that Brown's doughnuts have quite a reputation, which is the reason why the bakery is a magnet for cyclists.  Indeed, as far back as the 1970's it served as the destination for  the Oklahoma Bicycle Society's Donut ride, a meandering ride through historic neighborhoods in Oklahoma City.

Batten says that the church has a repair shop equipped with tools donated by the local rotary club.  Two mechanics work there.  They are not mere "wrenches", though:  They empathize with their clients because they were once homeless themselves.

There are other "happy endings," evidenced by the many "thank-you" letters Batten receives.  Some of the recipients continue to ride after they get their lives together.  Others, though, buy cars--and give their bikes back to Chain Reaction Ministries.

If you want to donate, or simply want more information, you can call Chain Reaction Ministries at  (405) 525-6551 or Batten himself at (405) 479-3809.

Keep Your Eyes On The Road!

Whenever I'm about to take attendance, or read something to my students, I have to pull my reading glasses out of my purse or bookbag.  Sometimes I wave my spectacles in the air and warn my students, "This is what you have to look forward to when you get old!"

Fortunately, I don't yet need glasses for anything besides reading or other close-up work.  When I ride, the only eyewear I need is the kind that protects my eyes from the sun and wind.

Others are not so fortunate:

Bike Shares: The "Monster Revealing Mirror"?

I've head and read more than a few anti-bicycle (or, more precisely, anti-cyclist) rants.  Almost invariably, they say we are scofflaws who run red lights, thumb our noses at everyone in sight and run over puppies, kittens and people's grandmothers.

I'll admit that in my younger years, I was bolder and perhaps more reckless than I am now.  But I have never run over anyone's grandmother, or a puppy or kitten.  In fact, I've actually rescued a couple of little furry ones and stopped to help senior citizens with one thing and another.

And I'll also admit that however inaccurate the rants may be, I don't recall anyone--at least, not in this country or this time--blaming us moral decay.  I've been fingered as one of the agents in the breakedown of civil society and Christian values, and as a potential bad influence on young people--but not because I'm a cyclist.  Of course, I might not be the best example one can find for his or her children, but not for the reasons the blamers usually cite.

Anyway, I at least feel fortunate in that most of the time, I can cycle in relative peace, alone or with whomever I choose.  And I can make a case against the haters of cyclists by being law-abiding and well-behaved (mostly).  And I've listened to more than a few rants that ended with the ranter turning to me and catching him or her self:  "I didn't mean you.  It's those others--you know who I mean."

Now, you might think--correctly--that the ranters haven't been on bikes since they were kids, or at all, and they still can't wrap their heads around the idea that someone who's old enough to drive would continue to cycle by choice.  But cyclists--and bicycles--are getting the blame for "moral breakdown" and all manner of bad behavior in one of the first countries that comes to mind when one thinks about everyday adult cyclists.

I am talking about China.  There, bicycles--actually, a specific kind of bike and rider--are seen as the worm in the apple of their country's order.  

As I have mentioned in earlier posts, Chinese bike-share companies have pioneered systems that don't require ports and, instead, depend upon telephone apps and codes.  Borrowers can, therefore, leave their bikes anywhere when they are finished, and anyone who has the share company's app can find it, or any other available bike, wherever it may be.

Well, people are complaining that bikes are left literally anywhere, including in the middle of busy intersections, where they block traffic.  They've also been left on people's doorsteps or in their yards, and in any place where grandmothers can trip over them.

But some Chinese people aren't upset only because users of bike share programs are being inconsiderate of others.  Turns out, those share programs are taking business away from taxi and rickshaw drivers.  They, like those whose properties are blighted or paths are blocked by piles of abandoned bikes, are angry. It's believed that they are behind much of the vandalism and outright destruction of bikes, which includes setting them on fire or tossing them into dumps and rivers.  And bike vandalism isn't limited to the "strip and dump" variety:  individual parts are hacked and shredded, and the pieces are conspicuously displayed. 

(I am reminded of those hate crimes in which the victim is shot, slashed and burned.)

The Chinese response to the bike share menace, if you will, might reveal something about the difference between their culture--or, perhaps the way people see their roles and responsibilities in it--and what we see in the West.  When I hear an anti-bike or anti-cyclist rant here, it always goes in one direction:  against bikes and cyclists.  It is not in any way self-reflective, or even self-referential:  It begins and ends with blame of the bikes or cyclists.

On the other hand, some in China have described bike-share programs as the "monster-revealing mirror."  They believe bikes that are vandalized or block intersections expose the true nature of Chinese people.  Then again, no one seems to be saying that the phenomena I've described are indicators of anything new:  Nearly a century ago, writer Lu Xun assailed Chinese culture as boastful, cruel, selfish and servile.

Well...at least nobody in this country says such things about cyclists.  At least, not in the anti-bike rants I've heard.