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.

Bicycle Ambulances In Uganda Are FABIO!

There are some places that can't be reached easily, or at all, with cars or trucks.  In some places, like rural Uganda, that can be a matter of life and death. 


Uganda's infant, newborn and maternal mortality rates are among the highest in the world.   The harsh terrain spreads between the vast distances pregnant women often must traverse in order to get care for themselves or their newborns.  As an example, early in her pregnancy, Sandra Naigaga had to walk more than four kilometers (2.5 miles) to access antenatal care in Kibibi.  Later in her pregnancy, that distance may as well have been the distance to the moon.

Fortunately for her, the First African Bicycle Information Organization (FABIO:  Could you ask for a better acronym?)  introduced bicycle ambulance service to her region's two major health centers late last year.  FABIO has been offering similar services, ferrying pregnant women as well as other people needing medical care, in other parts of Uganda since 2006.

Sandra Naigaga (R) after arriving at the antenatal care centre in Kibibi

Aside from the services it provides, another thing that's great about FABIO is that it tries to maintain an environmentally sustainable system that can be easily maintained by local people using local materials from local sources.  So, the ambulances are built around basic black bicycles for which spare parts are readily available, even in such a remote region. And the carts that are attached to those bicycles are made from locally-sourced materials.  FABIO's ambulances are thus "African solutions to African problems," in the words of field officer Jeremiah Brian Nkuutu.  

Jeremiah Brian Nkuuti welding a carriage for a FABIO bicycle ambulance.

While most of the bicycle ambulances are of the pedaled, mechanical kind, FABIO also has ambulances towed by rechargeable e-bicycles.  These are used in hilly areas and, like the bicycles, are chosen for their reliability and the local availability of spare parts.

What They Notice

Years ago, I would attract attention while riding my bike.  In many communities, people stopped riding bicycles as soon as they were old enough to drive--if, indeed, they ever rode bicycles in the first place.  Seeing an adult on two wheels instead of four, and pedaling instead of stepping on a gas pedal, was strange for many people.  

And, in my workplaces, I was "the one who rides a bike."  I didn't mind the appelation:  I simply wished others would ride.

Apparently, it's still possible to get attention simply by riding a bicycle:

On The Path Across America: The Hennepin Canal

When I was an undergraduate, one of my favorite rides took me along the Delaware and Raritan Canal Towpath.  One of my favorite rides in Paris follows the Canal St. Martin, and one of the highlights, for me, of cycling in Montreal was the Lachine Canal path.

All over the world, as canals designed for barge traffic fall into disuse, paths alongside them--which were often trod by horses and mules that pulled the barges--turn into all-but-ideal cycling and walking lanes.

Some folks in northern Illinois have discovered as much:  a trail alongside the Hennepin Canal has become a magnet for cyclists.  It's so popular, in fact, that it will become part of the Great American Rail Trail.

The Hennepin Canal connects the Illinois and Mississippi Rivers through northern Illinois.  Like the Delaware-Raritan,  St. Martin and other canals, it once served as an important link for water transportation.  Now it is a draw for all sorts of recreation, including fishing, boating and hiking as well as cycling.  

For one thing, paths along canals are flat.  But, perhaps most of all, canals are almost always scenic, whether because of the landscapes surrounding them or the industrial structures that line them.