Archive for General

Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

February 3, 2009 / / Comments Off on Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

As I was riding today, I was still a little steamed about last week’s unpleasant interaction with a driver who tried to tell me off after he nearly hit me — even though I had the right of way and was riding safely.

I was also considering his anger, and my unfortunate reaction to it, in the context of the anti-cyclist comments that are all too common online — such as the recent ones on the Times’ website.

You see, to a certain segment of the driving population, we seem to be an almost evil presence on the road — something to be tolerated, at best. Or for some, to be run off the road, if possible. Whether literally or figuratively.

To those people, there are no good cyclists.

As far as they’re concerned, we’re a breed of rude, arrogant, two-wheeled law-flaunting scofflaws who block the road, don’t signal, consistently run stop lights and never, ever observe stop signs. Especially the ones they see as the ultimate, crème de la vile crème of roadway criminality — the spandex-clad racers and recreational riders.

Like me.

Of course, you don’t have to watch the road very long to notice that many, if not most, riders actually do signal, as well as stop for — and wait out — red lights, and observe stops at least as often and well as most local drivers do.

But it seems that many drivers don’t notice the countless riders they pass who ride safely; just the few who blow through lights or commit some other unforgivable act. Even if it’s something that other drivers do on a near daily basis.

So that’s what I was thinking when I was stopped at 7th on San Vicente, and another rider — also a spandex-wrapped roadie — came up behind me.

We struck up a conversation, and once the light changed, fell in together as we rode side-by-side up the hill and back down the other side.

Turned out he was a pretty a nice guy. We discussed how nice it was to be riding in 80 degree weather when people back east are digging themselves out from the latest storm. About his work in the film industry, and the prospects for yet another crippling strike. And about his avocation a racer — an expert-level mountain biker, and a CAT-4 roadie who competed in last year’s Brentwood Grand Prix.

As we rode, an interesting thing happened. As the outside rider, when something came up that posed a risk for me on the inside, he’d briefly move out into the traffic lane to give me a little more room. And when I noticed something that could force him into traffic, I slowed down just enough to let him pass before moving back up beside him.

Just two riders working together to keep each other safe, without having to exchange a single word.

And despite riding tandem for nearly two miles, up and down hill, we both stayed comfortably within the bike lane virtually the entire time, allowing traffic to pass by uninterrupted. No red lights were run, no drivers inconvenienced.

So if some drivers insist on blaming us all for the actions of a few, I guess I can live it that.

Then a little further on, I encountered another cyclist. This time, it was an older woman riding slowly as she struggled up a short, steep hill and around a sharp corner.

As I approached her, I noticed a car coming up from behind, and realized that the driver’s view of the woman was blocked — and would have no idea she was there when he rounded the corner.

So I swung out around her, taking the corner much wider than I usually would, and blocking the lane to prevent the driver from going by.

I’m not sure the woman even knew what I was doing. But once the driver rounded the corner and saw her, he seemed to understand what I was doing, and why. So I moved back to the right to let him by, and he passed both of us — very safely — with about six feet of clearance.

Just one cyclist looking out for another.

 

Illuminate LA offers a guide for reducing cycling collisions, with studies to back it up. LA Rides provides a pair of maps for riding safely between Westwood and Mar Vista. No Whip describes a 75-mile ride on and off road through the hills of L.A. Ubrayj envisions a car-free Lincoln Park. Will gets excited about volunteering for the Tour of California. Cynergy Cycles announces their Women’s Week, a week of exclusive events for female riders; too bad their website isn’t as cool as the email, which I can’t link too. The Daily News calls on the MTA to speed up its support of cyclists. And finally, Streetsblog talks about the need to reform the laws governing cycling, while Indiana is in the process of doing something about it, with the support of the local paper.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

February 3, 2009 / / Comments Off on Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

As I was riding today, I was still a little steamed about last week’s unpleasant interaction with a driver who tried to tell me off after he nearly hit me — even though I had the right of way and was riding safely.

I was also considering his anger, and my unfortunate reaction to it, in the context of the anti-cyclist comments that are all too common online — such as the recent ones on the Times’ website.

You see, to a certain segment of the driving population, we seem to be an almost evil presence on the road — something to be tolerated, at best. Or for some, to be run off the road, if possible. Whether literally or figuratively.

To those people, there are no good cyclists.

As far as they’re concerned, we’re a breed of rude, arrogant, two-wheeled law-flaunting scofflaws who block the road, don’t signal, consistently run stop lights and never, ever observe stop signs. Especially the ones they see as the ultimate, crème de la vile crème of roadway criminality — the spandex-clad racers and recreational riders.

Like me.

Of course, you don’t have to watch the road very long to notice that many, if not most, riders actually do signal, as well as stop for — and wait out — red lights, and observe stops at least as often and well as most local drivers do.

But it seems that many drivers don’t notice the countless riders they pass who ride safely; just the few who blow through lights or commit some other unforgivable act. Even if it’s something that other drivers do on a near daily basis.

So that’s what I was thinking when I was stopped at 7th on San Vicente, and another rider — also a spandex-wrapped roadie — came up behind me.

We struck up a conversation, and once the light changed, fell in together as we rode side-by-side up the hill and back down the other side.

Turned out he was a pretty a nice guy. We discussed how nice it was to be riding in 80 degree weather when people back east are digging themselves out from the latest storm. About his work in the film industry, and the prospects for yet another crippling strike. And about his avocation a racer — an expert-level mountain biker, and a CAT-4 roadie who competed in last year’s Brentwood Grand Prix.

As we rode, an interesting thing happened. As the outside rider, when something came up that posed a risk for me on the inside, he’d briefly move out into the traffic lane to give me a little more room. And when I noticed something that could force him into traffic, I slowed down just enough to let him pass before moving back up beside him.

Just two riders working together to keep each other safe, without having to exchange a single word.

And despite riding tandem for nearly two miles, up and down hill, we both stayed comfortably within the bike lane virtually the entire time, allowing traffic to pass by uninterrupted. No red lights were run, no drivers inconvenienced.

So if some drivers insist on blaming us all for the actions of a few, I guess I can live it that.

Then a little further on, I encountered another cyclist. This time, it was an older woman riding slowly as she struggled up a short, steep hill and around a sharp corner.

As I approached her, I noticed a car coming up from behind, and realized that the driver’s view of the woman was blocked — and would have no idea she was there when he rounded the corner.

So I swung out around her, taking the corner much wider than I usually would, and blocking the lane to prevent the driver from going by.

I’m not sure the woman even knew what I was doing. But once the driver rounded the corner and saw her, he seemed to understand what I was doing, and why. So I moved back to the right to let him by, and he passed both of us — very safely — with about six feet of clearance.

Just one cyclist looking out for another.

 

Illuminate LA offers a guide for reducing cycling collisions, with studies to back it up. LA Rides provides a pair of maps for riding safely between Westwood and Mar Vista. No Whip describes a 75-mile ride on and off road through the hills of L.A. Ubrayj envisions a car-free Lincoln Park. Will gets excited about volunteering for the Tour of California. Cynergy Cycles announces their Women’s Week, a week of exclusive events for female riders; too bad their website isn’t as cool as the email, which I can’t link too. The Daily News calls on the MTA to speed up its support of cyclists. And finally, Streetsblog talks about the need to reform the laws governing cycling, while Indiana is in the process of doing something about it, with the support of the local paper.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

February 3, 2009 / / Comments Off on Today’s ride, in which I don’t inconvenience anyone

As I was riding today, I was still a little steamed about last week’s unpleasant interaction with a driver who tried to tell me off after he nearly hit me — even though I had the right of way and was riding safely.

I was also considering his anger, and my unfortunate reaction to it, in the context of the anti-cyclist comments that are all too common online — such as the recent ones on the Times’ website.

You see, to a certain segment of the driving population, we seem to be an almost evil presence on the road — something to be tolerated, at best. Or for some, to be run off the road, if possible. Whether literally or figuratively.

To those people, there are no good cyclists.

As far as they’re concerned, we’re a breed of rude, arrogant, two-wheeled law-flaunting scofflaws who block the road, don’t signal, consistently run stop lights and never, ever observe stop signs. Especially the ones they see as the ultimate, crème de la vile crème of roadway criminality — the spandex-clad racers and recreational riders.

Like me.

Of course, you don’t have to watch the road very long to notice that many, if not most, riders actually do signal, as well as stop for — and wait out — red lights, and observe stops at least as often and well as most local drivers do.

But it seems that many drivers don’t notice the countless riders they pass who ride safely; just the few who blow through lights or commit some other unforgivable act. Even if it’s something that other drivers do on a near daily basis.

So that’s what I was thinking when I was stopped at 7th on San Vicente, and another rider — also a spandex-wrapped roadie — came up behind me.

We struck up a conversation, and once the light changed, fell in together as we rode side-by-side up the hill and back down the other side.

Turned out he was a pretty a nice guy. We discussed how nice it was to be riding in 80 degree weather when people back east are digging themselves out from the latest storm. About his work in the film industry, and the prospects for yet another crippling strike. And about his avocation a racer — an expert-level mountain biker, and a CAT-4 roadie who competed in last year’s Brentwood Grand Prix.

As we rode, an interesting thing happened. As the outside rider, when something came up that posed a risk for me on the inside, he’d briefly move out into the traffic lane to give me a little more room. And when I noticed something that could force him into traffic, I slowed down just enough to let him pass before moving back up beside him.

Just two riders working together to keep each other safe, without having to exchange a single word.

And despite riding tandem for nearly two miles, up and down hill, we both stayed comfortably within the bike lane virtually the entire time, allowing traffic to pass by uninterrupted. No red lights were run, no drivers inconvenienced.

So if some drivers insist on blaming us all for the actions of a few, I guess I can live it that.

Then a little further on, I encountered another cyclist. This time, it was an older woman riding slowly as she struggled up a short, steep hill and around a sharp corner.

As I approached her, I noticed a car coming up from behind, and realized that the driver’s view of the woman was blocked — and would have no idea she was there when he rounded the corner.

So I swung out around her, taking the corner much wider than I usually would, and blocking the lane to prevent the driver from going by.

I’m not sure the woman even knew what I was doing. But once the driver rounded the corner and saw her, he seemed to understand what I was doing, and why. So I moved back to the right to let him by, and he passed both of us — very safely — with about six feet of clearance.

Just one cyclist looking out for another.

 

Illuminate LA offers a guide for reducing cycling collisions, with studies to back it up. LA Rides provides a pair of maps for riding safely between Westwood and Mar Vista. No Whip describes a 75-mile ride on and off road through the hills of L.A. Ubrayj envisions a car-free Lincoln Park. Will gets excited about volunteering for the Tour of California. Cynergy Cycles announces their Women’s Week, a week of exclusive events for female riders; too bad their website isn’t as cool as the email, which I can’t link too. The Daily News calls on the MTA to speed up its support of cyclists. And finally, Streetsblog talks about the need to reform the laws governing cycling, while Indiana is in the process of doing something about it, with the support of the local paper.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , ,

Today’s ride, in which I chase a BMW and race a Porsche

January 29, 2009 / / One comment

I should have known it was going to be one of those rides.

Just three blocks from home, I come up to a 4-way stop, then went through the intersection the same time as a car going the opposite way. Only problem was, a car on the cross street began his left turn as soon as the other car passed, while I was still in the intersection — attempting to occupy the same space I was already in.

But I bit my tongue. Hard.

I mean, not one word or gesture. It wasn’t that I had suddenly become a pacifist. I just didn’t want to ruin this beautiful day. Not even when he pulled to the curb a couple blocks later, almost dooring me as he got out of his car.

Then just a few blocks after that, at another 4-way stop, some idiot on the cross street came to a full stop — in the middle of the intersection. Which meant he was blocking the path of every other person on the road, including me. Then he just sat there waiting to see if anyone else was going to go first.

Message received. Just one of those days.

So about a half-dozen minor incidents later, I found myself riding down San Vicente in Brentwood, when I noticed a large BMW preparing to enter the street from the parking lot at Soup Plantation.

Only problem is, there was a large truck parked next to the exit, completely blocking his view of the street. So he had no way of knowing if there was a bike, car, bus or the entire USC Marching Band bearing down on him.

The way this ride had already gone, I assumed the worst, and grabbed my brakes while swinging out wide into the lane. And sure enough, just as I rounded the corner of the truck, he gunned his engine to pull out, then jammed on the brakes when he saw me.

But when he saw I was slowing down, this gold-plated, double-dipped Richard-head gunned it again, clearly thinking he could lurch out in front me — except by then, I was already in front of his car. So he jammed on the brake again, as I rolled by with my hands out to the side in the universal “What the fuck?” gesture.

Once I was past, he gunned it again, then pulled up beside me with his window down, yelling something unintelligible. But it was pretty damn clear it wasn’t an apology. So that caveman portion of my brain kicked, punching out the standard fight or flight response.

And I sure as hell wasn’t going to run away.

So the chase was on.

I kicked it up a couple gears, assumed my best sprint position and picked up the cadence. And much to my surprise, I found I was actually gaining on him.

In fact, I was just about to catch up to him, prepared to give him one of the few pieces of my mind that I have left, when a Porsche pulled out from the curb directly ahead of me without looking.

So I swung hard to the left. And next thing I knew, I was racing down the left lane at about 30 mph, next to the driver’s door of a 911 — the operator of which was preoccupied with talking to his lovely passenger, and had no idea that I was there, since he hadn’t once looked in my direction.

Now, any sane person would have realized the complete idiocy of that situation, grabbed hard on the brakes, and let the Porsche go by.

But that would have meant that the esteemed Mr. Head would get away.

So I kicked it up to my smallest gear and cut in front of the Porsche. And causing the driver to jam on his brakes, with an expression that clearly said “What the holy f…!!!!”

And yes, I confess that there was a small part of my otherwise engaged brain that registered his expression, and truly enjoyed it.

But Mr. Head comma Dick was getting away, so I continued to hammer down the street. And I was only about 20 feet behind him when he pulled a U-turn and raced off in the other direction. Leaving me in the position of chasing him down once again, or getting on with my life.

I chose the latter.

I’d like to say the remainder of my ride was uneventful. Really, I would.

But I would be lying.

Maybe I’ll share it with you another time. Or maybe I’ll just pour a few fingers of good Irish Whiskey and try to forget the whole thing.

One last thing, though. All that adrenalin must have done some good.

Because I finished my usual 2-1/2 hour ride in just a hair under 2:10.

 

Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who had a challenging ride lately. Will documents the Anatomy of an Inattentive Driver, while Gary discusses a recent hit and run that put a Santa Monica cyclist in critical condition. My friend, the proprietor of the Altadena Blog, uncovers a slightly nauseating video of a fat tire ride down Echo Mountain. L.A.C.B.C announces Car-Free Friday; celebrate it by riding with City Council President Eric Garcetti. And Stephen Box marks the second anniversary of storming the L.A. Bicycle Advisory Committee’s figurative Bastille with an open letter to the new head of the Bikeways Engineering Group.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

Today’s ride, in which I chase a BMW and race a Porsche

January 29, 2009 / / One comment

I should have known it was going to be one of those rides.

Just three blocks from home, I come up to a 4-way stop, then went through the intersection the same time as a car going the opposite way. Only problem was, a car on the cross street began his left turn as soon as the other car passed, while I was still in the intersection — attempting to occupy the same space I was already in.

But I bit my tongue. Hard.

I mean, not one word or gesture. It wasn’t that I had suddenly become a pacifist. I just didn’t want to ruin this beautiful day. Not even when he pulled to the curb a couple blocks later, almost dooring me as he got out of his car.

Then just a few blocks after that, at another 4-way stop, some idiot on the cross street came to a full stop — in the middle of the intersection. Which meant he was blocking the path of every other person on the road, including me. Then he just sat there waiting to see if anyone else was going to go first.

Message received. Just one of those days.

So about a half-dozen minor incidents later, I found myself riding down San Vicente in Brentwood, when I noticed a large BMW preparing to enter the street from the parking lot at Soup Plantation.

Only problem is, there was a large truck parked next to the exit, completely blocking his view of the street. So he had no way of knowing if there was a bike, car, bus or the entire USC Marching Band bearing down on him.

The way this ride had already gone, I assumed the worst, and grabbed my brakes while swinging out wide into the lane. And sure enough, just as I rounded the corner of the truck, he gunned his engine to pull out, then jammed on the brakes when he saw me.

But when he saw I was slowing down, this gold-plated, double-dipped Richard-head gunned it again, clearly thinking he could lurch out in front me — except by then, I was already in front of his car. So he jammed on the brake again, as I rolled by with my hands out to the side in the universal “What the fuck?” gesture.

Once I was past, he gunned it again, then pulled up beside me with his window down, yelling something unintelligible. But it was pretty damn clear it wasn’t an apology. So that caveman portion of my brain kicked, punching out the standard fight or flight response.

And I sure as hell wasn’t going to run away.

So the chase was on.

I kicked it up a couple gears, assumed my best sprint position and picked up the cadence. And much to my surprise, I found I was actually gaining on him.

In fact, I was just about to catch up to him, prepared to give him one of the few pieces of my mind that I have left, when a Porsche pulled out from the curb directly ahead of me without looking.

So I swung hard to the left. And next thing I knew, I was racing down the left lane at about 30 mph, next to the driver’s door of a 911 — the operator of which was preoccupied with talking to his lovely passenger, and had no idea that I was there, since he hadn’t once looked in my direction.

Now, any sane person would have realized the complete idiocy of that situation, grabbed hard on the brakes, and let the Porsche go by.

But that would have meant that the esteemed Mr. Head would get away.

So I kicked it up to my smallest gear and cut in front of the Porsche. And causing the driver to jam on his brakes, with an expression that clearly said “What the holy f…!!!!”

And yes, I confess that there was a small part of my otherwise engaged brain that registered his expression, and truly enjoyed it.

But Mr. Head comma Dick was getting away, so I continued to hammer down the street. And I was only about 20 feet behind him when he pulled a U-turn and raced off in the other direction. Leaving me in the position of chasing him down once again, or getting on with my life.

I chose the latter.

I’d like to say the remainder of my ride was uneventful. Really, I would.

But I would be lying.

Maybe I’ll share it with you another time. Or maybe I’ll just pour a few fingers of good Irish Whiskey and try to forget the whole thing.

One last thing, though. All that adrenalin must have done some good.

Because I finished my usual 2-1/2 hour ride in just a hair under 2:10.

 

Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who had a challenging ride lately. Will documents the Anatomy of an Inattentive Driver, while Gary discusses a recent hit and run that put a Santa Monica cyclist in critical condition. My friend, the proprietor of the Altadena Blog, uncovers a slightly nauseating video of a fat tire ride down Echo Mountain. L.A.C.B.C announces Car-Free Friday; celebrate it by riding with City Council President Eric Garcetti. And Stephen Box marks the second anniversary of storming the L.A. Bicycle Advisory Committee’s figurative Bastille with an open letter to the new head of the Bikeways Engineering Group.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

Today’s ride, in which I chase a BMW and race a Porsche

January 29, 2009 / / One comment

I should have known it was going to be one of those rides.

Just three blocks from home, I come up to a 4-way stop, then went through the intersection the same time as a car going the opposite way. Only problem was, a car on the cross street began his left turn as soon as the other car passed, while I was still in the intersection — attempting to occupy the same space I was already in.

But I bit my tongue. Hard.

I mean, not one word or gesture. It wasn’t that I had suddenly become a pacifist. I just didn’t want to ruin this beautiful day. Not even when he pulled to the curb a couple blocks later, almost dooring me as he got out of his car.

Then just a few blocks after that, at another 4-way stop, some idiot on the cross street came to a full stop — in the middle of the intersection. Which meant he was blocking the path of every other person on the road, including me. Then he just sat there waiting to see if anyone else was going to go first.

Message received. Just one of those days.

So about a half-dozen minor incidents later, I found myself riding down San Vicente in Brentwood, when I noticed a large BMW preparing to enter the street from the parking lot at Soup Plantation.

Only problem is, there was a large truck parked next to the exit, completely blocking his view of the street. So he had no way of knowing if there was a bike, car, bus or the entire USC Marching Band bearing down on him.

The way this ride had already gone, I assumed the worst, and grabbed my brakes while swinging out wide into the lane. And sure enough, just as I rounded the corner of the truck, he gunned his engine to pull out, then jammed on the brakes when he saw me.

But when he saw I was slowing down, this gold-plated, double-dipped Richard-head gunned it again, clearly thinking he could lurch out in front me — except by then, I was already in front of his car. So he jammed on the brake again, as I rolled by with my hands out to the side in the universal “What the fuck?” gesture.

Once I was past, he gunned it again, then pulled up beside me with his window down, yelling something unintelligible. But it was pretty damn clear it wasn’t an apology. So that caveman portion of my brain kicked, punching out the standard fight or flight response.

And I sure as hell wasn’t going to run away.

So the chase was on.

I kicked it up a couple gears, assumed my best sprint position and picked up the cadence. And much to my surprise, I found I was actually gaining on him.

In fact, I was just about to catch up to him, prepared to give him one of the few pieces of my mind that I have left, when a Porsche pulled out from the curb directly ahead of me without looking.

So I swung hard to the left. And next thing I knew, I was racing down the left lane at about 30 mph, next to the driver’s door of a 911 — the operator of which was preoccupied with talking to his lovely passenger, and had no idea that I was there, since he hadn’t once looked in my direction.

Now, any sane person would have realized the complete idiocy of that situation, grabbed hard on the brakes, and let the Porsche go by.

But that would have meant that the esteemed Mr. Head would get away.

So I kicked it up to my smallest gear and cut in front of the Porsche. And causing the driver to jam on his brakes, with an expression that clearly said “What the holy f…!!!!”

And yes, I confess that there was a small part of my otherwise engaged brain that registered his expression, and truly enjoyed it.

But Mr. Head comma Dick was getting away, so I continued to hammer down the street. And I was only about 20 feet behind him when he pulled a U-turn and raced off in the other direction. Leaving me in the position of chasing him down once again, or getting on with my life.

I chose the latter.

I’d like to say the remainder of my ride was uneventful. Really, I would.

But I would be lying.

Maybe I’ll share it with you another time. Or maybe I’ll just pour a few fingers of good Irish Whiskey and try to forget the whole thing.

One last thing, though. All that adrenalin must have done some good.

Because I finished my usual 2-1/2 hour ride in just a hair under 2:10.

 

Evidently, I wasn’t the only one who had a challenging ride lately. Will documents the Anatomy of an Inattentive Driver, while Gary discusses a recent hit and run that put a Santa Monica cyclist in critical condition. My friend, the proprietor of the Altadena Blog, uncovers a slightly nauseating video of a fat tire ride down Echo Mountain. L.A.C.B.C announces Car-Free Friday; celebrate it by riding with City Council President Eric Garcetti. And Stephen Box marks the second anniversary of storming the L.A. Bicycle Advisory Committee’s figurative Bastille with an open letter to the new head of the Bikeways Engineering Group.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

Control the intersection, part 2: Actually, it is polite to point

January 27, 2009 / / 2 comments

Just last week, I was riding towards a busy intersection. Ahead of me, there was a long line of cars facing me, waiting to make a left turn onto the cross street.

The driver of the first car had plenty of room to make his left before I got to the intersection, crossing my path and going on his way with room to spare.

The second car probably shouldn’t have gone. The driver’s view had been blocked by the first car, and he had no idea I was there until he followed the first driver in making his turn. Fortunately, I hadn’t quite entered the intersection, so he rounded the corner without posing an undue threat.

The third car was another matter.

It was clear that his view had been totally obscured by the cars ahead of him. And if he followed their lead, neither one of us would make it to the other side.

So I pointed at him.

I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just a little trick I’ve learned over the years. When a driver doesn’t seem to see me, I extend my arm and point at him. And invariably, they notice me, and respond appropriately.

Don’t ask me why it works. It just does.

In this case, I pointed at the driver as soon as he came into view, after the other car turned. We made eye contact, he nodded, and I rode safely through the intersection and on my merry way.

I’ve used the same technique as I’ve been stopped at a light, when it appeared a driver a going to try to get the jump on me as soon as the light changed. In that case, the driver appeared to be purposely ignoring me, refusing to make eye contact — always a bad sign.

Sure enough, the light changed and he gunned his engine, lurching into the intersection, despite the fact that I had the right of way. So again, I pointed.

And God help me, he stopped.

He sat there with an embarrassed look on his face and let me ride past. Then gunned his engine again, screeching through the corner and down the road.

Other times, I’ve used an extended digit — the first one, not the second, which I tend to employ all too often — to indicate where I intend to go. By pointing straight ahead, I could show that I was going to ride straight across an intersection, even though it was a situation where most drivers would have expected me to turn.

Or I’ve pointed out at a slight angle, to tell drivers that I was entering the lane briefly to go around some obstacle, rather than taking the full lane — or risk confusing them by making a left turn signal.

And in every case, it’s worked. Drivers slow down, and give me enough space to make my move or cross the street. And more amazingly, I’ve never gotten a single horn, shout or obscene gesture in response.

Don’t ask me why.

I’ve even been known to take it a step further by actually directing traffic.

Like at a four way stop, for instance, when no one knows who should go first. In some cases, it may have actually been my right of way. But only a fool would insist on taking it without knowing that the other vehicles intended to cede it.

And as they say down south, my Mama didn’t raise no fools.

So I point at one driver, and hold up my hand to indicate halt. Then point at the other driver and wave him through the intersection, before waving the first car through. And once the intersection is clear, I’ll go through myself — sometime holding out that same halt signal to tell a late arriving vehicle I’m going through.

I always expect the drivers to ignore me. Or laugh. Or get pissed off. But oddly, it never seems to happen.

Instead, they invariably respond to my points and hand commands as meekly as a herd of sheep with a border collie nipping at their flanks.

I can’t explain it. I won’t even try.

All I know is that it works. And the fact that I’m still here to tell you about it is all the proof you need that it does.

 

Bicycle Fixation offers their stylish Limited Edition Herringbone Knickers; very cool, but at that price, I think I’ll continue to wear my decided unstylish spandex. Meanwhile, another rider offers a jersey indicating the three foot passing distance we should all insist on — at least until our personal portable bike lanes hit the market. Gary relates his semi-soggy saga of riding to San Diego over the weekend. Another local bike path becomes a habitat for homeless humanity. Leave it to the Japanese to meld a parking garage with a bicycle vending machine. The Expo Construction Authority seeks an alternate for the Expo Bikeway through NIMBY-ist Cheviot Hills. Yeah, good luck with that. Bike paradise Boulder, Colorado is about to get a state-of-the-art off-road bike park, while Belmont, CA drivers are raging over the new bike lane. Finally, the Rearview Rider, aka the Bicycling Librarian, offers up her new blog of bike-worthy links.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Massachusetts Bicyclist Safety Bill vs. Dr. Doom and his Disciples of Death

January 22, 2009 / / 2 comments

The last few days, I’ve been reading, with increasing degrees of stomach-churning disgust, the comments that followed the Times’ article about the good doctor’s not guilty plea on their L.A. Now blog

Stomach churning, because many of our fellow citizens seem to believe they are justified in using their car as a deadly weapon, should any cyclist have the audacity to annoy or inconvenience them — and that the good doctor did nothing wrong, despite intentionally injuring two fellow human beings.

Stomach churning, in that many of the comments said that the cyclists were to blame, accusing them of tailgating the good doctor — despite the fact that he admitted intentionally cutting in front of the riders, then slamming on his brakes to teach them a lesson. Or at the very least, that their obnoxious behavior somehow justified sending both to the emergency room.

And stomach churning, in the appalling lack of knowledge of regarding the rights of cyclists under California law — and the belief that roads were made exclusively for motorized vehicles.

While I recognize that some — but by no means most — cyclists may ride in a dangerously aggressive manner, it is disingenuous at best to blame all riders for the actions of a relative few. As I was discussing with an employee at a local bike shop over the weekend, many drivers remember the single rider they saw blow through a red light, but never notice the others who waited patiently for it to change.

Then there are those who don’t believe we even belong on bikeways that were designed and built for our safety.

So despite the progress made in L.A. with the Cyclist’s Bill of Rights, it’s clear that we still have a very long way to go.

Contrast that with the new bill that was recently signed into law in Massachusetts. The Massachusetts Bicyclist Safety Bill applies common sense solutions to many of the problems we face everyday, on every ride.

Like making it clear that signals are not required when they would interfere with safe operation of the bike, such as when both hands are needed for braking or steering. Banning dooring, as well as cutting riders off after passing or when making a turn — something I’ve addressed previously.

And requiring that all police recruits receive training on “bicycle-related laws, bicyclist injuries, dangerous behavior by bicyclists, motorists actions that cause bicycle crashes, and motorists intentionally endangering bicyclists.” In-service training on the same subjects is optional for more experienced officers.

Imagine a police force that is actually knowledgeable, familiar with the rights and responsibilities of cyclists, and how motorists can cause cycling accidents — intentionally or otherwise.

I’ve been struggling lately with the question of what comes next, now that the Cyclists’ Bill of Rights is well on it’s way to becoming law.

As indicated above, I’ve made some suggestions for ways the California Vehicle Code could be changed to better protect riders and encourage cycling. (Scroll down to “Change the law. Change the world.”, then back up to see the individual suggestions.)

Another step would be to take the Cyclists’ Bill of Rights to the state level and make it part of the Vehicle Code. And require that drivers be tested on the full range of state cycling laws when they apply for their licenses.

As indicated in my previous post, Brayj had an excellent suggestion yesterday, when he said that the MTA could be sued to force funding of bicycle-related projects. And Ingrid Peterson of Rearview Rider added to his concept by suggesting that it’s time for a local coalition of cyclists and lawyers to protect our collective interests.

But we could do a lot worse than taking the full text of the Mass. law directly to our state representatives, and insisting that they use it as a platform for reforming our cycling laws.

Once they get off their collective asses and do something about the damn budget mess, that is.

 

Australian riders blame helmet laws for keeping cycling commuters off the road. Evidently, New York Police ignore hit-and-run accidents involving cyclists — as well as requests for more information. And cyclists fight back against bike thieves with exploding locks.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , , , ,

So that’s why you ride with your mouth closed

January 21, 2009 / / Comments Off on So that’s why you ride with your mouth closed

So there I was this morning, doing about 25 as I cruised down Ocean in Santa Monica, just trying to get a quick ride in before the weather turned.

But as I rode, I suddenly started having trouble breathing, as if something was blocking my airway. A quick personal inventory revealed something was stuck on the back of my throat. And being a semi-frequent practitioner of good dental hygiene, I quickly concluded that I must have inhaled something.

I observed that there was only a slight breeze, so using my brilliant powers of deduction, concluded that it probably wasn’t anything blowing in the wind. Not even an answer, with apologies to the formerly young Mr. Dylan — although I have choked on a few of those over the years, now that I think about it.

That left an insect, most likely of the flying variety.

Could have been a ladybug. Might have been a house fly. Or it could have been just about anything with wings, with the possible exception of the sea gulls and pigeons that frequent the area.

Of course, my fear was that it was a bee, since I didn’t get stung during the infamous beachfront bee encounter, and so still have no idea if I’m allergic or not.

So as I struggled to clear my airway, I anticipated a stinging — and I mean that literally — pain in my throat, followed by the inevitable swelling that would leave my airway constricted and unable to breathe. As well as the risk of anaphylaxis, leaving me a spasming heap in the middle of the roadway, and wondering if the paramedics would arrive before I suffered an inglorious death, surrounded by vegetable-carrying tourists from the farmer’s market.

Not that I tend to be overdramatic, or anything.

Fortunately, nothing happened.

Unfortunately, my instinct to swallow proved stronger than my gag reflex, providing me with an early, unplanned lunch. And with it, any possibility of discovering just what it was

And yes, I finished the rest of my ride with my mouth closed.

 

The cross-country Obama biker completes his trip — and I read about it first in a publication from Qatar? C.I.C.L.E. announces this weekend’s L.A. River ride. Bicycling talks to the CEO of Lance’s new LiveStrong foundation. Tips for Texas bike commuters. Timor has a brush with the law. And finally, Brayj starts a conversation about suing the MTA for more bike funding, and the Rearview Rider suggests starting a biking legal collective, ala NYC or Portland. Count me in.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

So that’s why you ride with your mouth closed

January 21, 2009 / / Comments Off on So that’s why you ride with your mouth closed

So there I was this morning, doing about 25 as I cruised down Ocean in Santa Monica, just trying to get a quick ride in before the weather turned.

But as I rode, I suddenly started having trouble breathing, as if something was blocking my airway. A quick personal inventory revealed something was stuck on the back of my throat. And being a semi-frequent practitioner of good dental hygiene, I quickly concluded that I must have inhaled something.

I observed that there was only a slight breeze, so using my brilliant powers of deduction, concluded that it probably wasn’t anything blowing in the wind. Not even an answer, with apologies to the formerly young Mr. Dylan — although I have choked on a few of those over the years, now that I think about it.

That left an insect, most likely of the flying variety.

Could have been a ladybug. Might have been a house fly. Or it could have been just about anything with wings, with the possible exception of the sea gulls and pigeons that frequent the area.

Of course, my fear was that it was a bee, since I didn’t get stung during the infamous beachfront bee encounter, and so still have no idea if I’m allergic or not.

So as I struggled to clear my airway, I anticipated a stinging — and I mean that literally — pain in my throat, followed by the inevitable swelling that would leave my airway constricted and unable to breathe. As well as the risk of anaphylaxis, leaving me a spasming heap in the middle of the roadway, and wondering if the paramedics would arrive before I suffered an inglorious death, surrounded by vegetable-carrying tourists from the farmer’s market.

Not that I tend to be overdramatic, or anything.

Fortunately, nothing happened.

Unfortunately, my instinct to swallow proved stronger than my gag reflex, providing me with an early, unplanned lunch. And with it, any possibility of discovering just what it was

And yes, I finished the rest of my ride with my mouth closed.

 

The cross-country Obama biker completes his trip — and I read about it first in a publication from Qatar? C.I.C.L.E. announces this weekend’s L.A. River ride. Bicycling talks to the CEO of Lance’s new LiveStrong foundation. Tips for Texas bike commuters. Timor has a brush with the law. And finally, Brayj starts a conversation about suing the MTA for more bike funding, and the Rearview Rider suggests starting a biking legal collective, ala NYC or Portland. Count me in.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,
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