Tag Archive for bicycle safety

Three-foot passing zones — even a near miss can be deadly

April 10, 2009 / / One comment

If you’ve been reading this for awhile, you probably know that I’m a strong advocate of laws establishing a minimum three-foot distance for passing a cyclist.

It’s just common sense.

Just about anyone who has ever ridden a bike knows how dangerous it can be when a car passes too close. And just about anyone who has ever driven past a cyclist knows that it’s hard to judge just exactly how close is too close — and that riders often swerve to avoid obstacles a driver may not be aware of.

A three foot — or arm’s length — distance simply provides a reasonable margin of error to protect everyone’s safety.

It makes so much sense, in fact, that it is slowly becoming law across the nation. As of last year, eleven states had passed three-foot laws, while a number of states have either passed or are considering such laws this year.

What brings this up is today’s news.

A newspaper in New Jersey and a letter writer in Colorado go to great lengths to argue against three-foot laws under consideration in their states.

The New Jersey editorial questions why not have a two-foot distance for passing skinnier people, or whether someone will get a ticket for passing with just a 2’11” margin. And notes that drivers have enough to worry about without having to judge how closely they pass a cyclist.

Meanwhile, the Durango writer posits that some roads are just too narrow and curving to permit a three-foot margin without causing accidents — and that cyclists should be banned from some roads entirely.

Bullshit.

Virtually every state in the union already requires passing cyclists at a safe distance; all this law does in specify what a safe distance is.

Despite what the New Jersey paper says, no one will get a ticket for passing 1” closer than three feet, or two inches, or even three. No officer has the ability to judge distance that closely.

But they can tell when you’re too close. When that margin is far less than three feet, and close enough to interfere with the cyclist’s ability to ride safely.

Simply put, if you can’t safely pass a rider with a margin roughly of three feet, you can’t safely pass. So just slow down for a moment, and wait until you can.

In other words, drive safely. Just like common sense, and the law, requires.

Then there’s this, one day earlier, from the same newspaper.

A cyclist was killed when riding along a New Jersey street. Witnesses say he was struck by a passing school bus in a hit-and-run accident; yet all the evidence — including security camera footage and an examination of the bus — indicate that no collision occurred.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened.

If the bus passed so closely that witnesses on the scene swear it hit the cyclist, it was clearly too close — well within the proposed three-foot limit — causing the cyclist to lose control of his bike. Yet no charges will be filed.

To quote one of comments that followed the editorial:

How many drivers can gauge whether or not they are 3 feet away – all that really matters is that you do not hit the cyclist.

The death of an experienced cyclist — a 5,000 mile a year rider — clearly demonstrates the fallacy of that attitude.

But they still don’t get it. 

How many more cyclists have to die until they do?


Dave Zabriskie’s Yield to Life Foundation offers great tips for cyclists and motorists on how to share the road safely. Laguna Beach says it’s not safe to ride in their city, but bike lanes aren’t the answer. Stephen Box recently wrote about bus drivers who think they have the right to cut off cyclists; a 15-year old Oregon cyclist was killed in a similar incident — which might have been avoided if he’d stopped for the red light. One in five cyclists killed in New York had alcohol in their systems; only 3% were wearing helmets. The Hammer Museum is Westwood is sponsoring a bike night next week, complete with bike valet courtesy of the LACBC; the LA Weekly suggests that you wear a helmet and be careful on your way there. Finally, L.A.’s own hometown cycling travel writer gets political. You go, girl!

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Bicyclists are ***holes. I am a bicyclist. Therefore…

April 6, 2009 / / 7 comments

I stumbled on this the other day.

Just another rant from an indignorant bike-riding driver who can’t understand why cyclists are such assholes. Not him, of course, or others like him who only ride on side streets or sidewalks.

But those other jerks. The ones who ride in street, acting like they actually had a right to be there, or have the audacity to move up to the front of the intersection at a red light. Or, God forbid, flip him off when he expresses his righteous indignation.

Riders like me, in other words. And possibly, like you — though I hope you have better control over your middle finger than I do sometimes.

Normally, I’d just click on another link, and move on to something else. But this one stuck with me, because he was complaining about exactly the same things I do every time I ride — the same things most bike safety experts tell us to do, precisely because they help us stay alive.

For instance, he can’t understand why cyclists insist on moving to the front of the intersection at a red light. Let alone why they get so upset when he tries to block their path with his car so they can’t.

Since he doesn’t ride his bike in traffic, maybe he doesn’t know that stopping behind a line of cars is one of the most dangerous things a rider can do.

That’s because the single most important thing any cyclist can do is make sure he or she is seen. And when you stop behind a line of cars — or often, even a single car — you’re completely hidden from oncoming traffic.

Which means that a driver waiting patiently to make a left turn may not know you’re there, and could turn directly into your bike once the car ahead of you clears his path.

It’s also likely that drivers on the cross street may not see you, either. And anyone coming up from behind probably won’t be looking a cyclist behind a line of cars, resulting a high likelihood of a crush crash that could smash your bike against the car in front.

Of course, you can easily avoid that simply by working your way to the front of the intersection where you can be seen by everyone. So by blocking cyclists from moving up, driver’s like him are willing to put the lives of their fellow human beings at risk.

Just because they don’t understand.

Then there’s his complaint about cyclists who ride in “the center of the lane…just because (they) can.” Except what he’s really complaining about is someone riding just three feet from the edge of the lane.

In other words, exactly where many experts would tell you to ride. Not in the gutter, with all the cracked pavement and broken glass. Not next to the parked cars, where you run the risk of being doored by a careless driver. But slightly into the lane, where cars can safely go around you when there’s a break in traffic.

Of course, I wasn’t there. Maybe the rider really was just an asshole. But I find it very hard to believe that traffic — through a park, no less — was so heavy that this driver did not have a single opportunity to pass for “a good three or four minutes.”

Obviously, this is just one guy, posting in another city over 6 months ago. Yet a simple Google search for the phrase “bicyclists are assholes” returns over 58,000 hits.

So the question becomes, how can we communicate to all these people that we’re not going out of our way to be rude just because we can, and there’s actually a good reason why we do the things we do.

Because they don’t read cycling blogs like this.

And they’re clearly not getting the message.


The new Flying Pigeon lands downtown; Bicycle Fixation drops in for a visit. Stephen Box reports Metro drivers think bikes must yield to big ass buses. The Anonymous Cyclist suggests that building your own wheels can be as relaxing as preparing for a tattoo. The old Freeloading Cyclists canard rears its ugly head once again. El Monte wants you to experience their Emerald Necklace — and discover riverbeds that aren’t lined with cement. Baton Rouge peddles pedaling paramedics. A lawyer discusses dangerous driving habits cyclists hate. Finally, it seems there’s real science behind rolling through stop signs.

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In 1986, my sister saved my life 18 months ago

March 17, 2009 / / Comments Off on In 1986, my sister saved my life 18 months ago

Twenty-three years ago, I was, to paraphrase an early Jimmy Buffet song, God’s own cyclist and a fearless man.

I was living in Denver at the time, and biking was my life. By then, I’d been riding for 6 years and considered myself an expert on all things bike.

I rode a minimum of 50 miles a day, every day, rain or shine. On the rare occasions when something kept me off the bike, I obsessed about it all day, then rode that much harder the next day. Once I even bombed down a mountain pass, passing cars on the shoulder at over 60 miles an hour — without a helmet — well aware that the first mistake I made would be my last.

But then, hardly anyone wore helmets in those days. I certainly didn’t think I needed one, since experienced riders like me just didn’t hit the pavement.

The only risk, in my overly confident mind, was if I was knocked there by a car or another rider. And I’d made a careful study of traffic and defensive riding techniques to make that didn’t happen, priding myself on my ability to read the streets and anticipate the actions of everyone on it.

Pride, as they say, goes before a fall.

This particular day, I was riding fast as I approached a major three-way intersection. To this day, I could still tell you the exact location of every single car as I carved a perfect a turn, leaning hard to the right as my knee barely cleared the pavement.

The only thing I didn’t see was the large puddle of water directly in front of my wheel, left over from a brief thunderstorm earlier in the day.

As soon as my bike hit the water, I hit the pavement, sliding across six lanes of traffic until I hit the curb on the far side with enough force to pancake both wheels.

My clothes were shredded, leaving me no more than a few threads from an indecent exposure charge. Fortunately, one of the drivers who had miraculously avoided me wrapped me in a blanket, secured my bike and drove me to the emergency room, where I was diagnosed with a broken bone in my elbow and severe road rash from ankle to chin.

Somehow, my speed and the angle I hit the road kept my head off the pavement, confirming my belief that a helmet was unnecessary.

My sister, though, was not so convinced. The next day, she bought a helmet and made me promise to wear it. Once I was able to get back on the bike, I put it on just to humor her.

And I’ve worn one every time I’ve been on a bike since.

Because as I recuperated, it finally dawned on me that overconfidence is more dangerous than anything I might find on the road. And that every rider hits the pavement sooner or later.

Yet it took two more decades of riding before I used my helmet for more than hair net.

Then in September of 2007, I was riding along the bike path north of Santa Monica, just approaching the new L.A. County Lifeguard headquarters at Will Rogers State Beach, when I encountered a massive swarm of bees.

I’ve told the story before, so I won’t bore you with the details (you can click here if you missed it). But the next thing I knew, I was stretched out on the bike path as a lifeguard pulled an oxygen mask over my face, with no idea how I got there.

The doctors in the ER said I’d suffered a moderate concussion, and the fact that I’d been wearing a helmet had probably saved my life. And as I looked at the cracks veining through its foam lining, I realized they probably were right.

So if someone tells me they started wearing a helmet because of something I said or wrote, it means more to me than they will ever know. Because an accident like that, in a place like that, pretty pretty much confirms that anything can happen, anytime. And anywhere.

I hope they — and you — never need it.

But I can honestly say that my sister’s insistence that I wear one has a lot to do with why I’m still here, and writing this, today.

 

Police in Pasadena are encouraging kids to wear their helmets — something state law requires. A writer in Seattle examines the age-old conflict over where — and if — bikes belong. Bike culture comes to D.C. A cycling Fox News reporter in Milwaukee documents his encounters with dangerous drivers. Introducing the cycling art of schluffing — something I’ve done since I was about 6 years old. Brayj points out the failure of bike planning at UCLA, as well as calling our attention to tomorrow’s county Department of Public Works meeting to explain why they won’t be building the long-promised extension to the Arroyo Seco Bike Path.

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Today’s post, in which I consider my attitude

March 12, 2009 / / 8 comments

Let’s talk about negativity. Mine, in particular.

You see, during the panel I was on at last week’s Bike Summit, I mentioned that one of the many reasons I’d started this blog was that I was concerned — okay, pissed off — about the state of cycling in Los Angeles. And said that this is, with the possible exception of 1980’s era Louisiana, the worst city in which I’ve ridden.

Then someone asked if I thought that cycling had gotten better or worse in my 30 years of riding — and here in L.A. over my near two-decades of residence, in particular.

My response was, worse. Much, much worse, in fact.

And it’s true.

Once I learned to avoid busy streets unsuitable for cycling — and to never, ever ride after an LSU home game, when the risk of being intentionally run off the road by drunken frat boys increased exponentially — Louisiana really wasn’t that bad. There were lots of quiet side streets perfect for cycling, and the River Road along the levee was wide, flat and virtually car free. And cyclists were enough of an anomaly in those days that drivers usually gave us a wide berth.

Every other city I’ve passed through or called home, for whatever reason or length of time, had a system of cycling infrastructure far superior to present day L.A. Even San Diego, circa mid-‘80s, had a better system of Class 1 and Class 2 bikeways (off-road paths and on-road lanes) than L.A. does today.

And in many ways, L.A.’s bikeways are in worse shape than they were 10 years ago, as crumbling asphalt, increased traffic and lax enforcement of bikeway restrictions take their toll.

Another thing that’s changed over the last 10 years is the willingness of local drivers to share the road. And in case you’re unsure where this is going, I’m not suggesting that it’s gotten better.

Maybe it’s the fact that traffic here on the Westside is significantly heavier than it once was. Maybe it’s the added stress everyone is under these days. It could be the distractions to drivers offered by the proliferation of cell phones, iPods and PDAs.

Or it could be the simple fact that L.A.’s understaffed police force, combined with an increasing population and shifting departmental priorities, means there aren’t enough officers on the streets to enforce traffic laws. As a result, local drivers seem to feel free to do whatever strikes their fancy, legal — or safe — or not.

And whether or not there’s a cyclist in their way.

So if that sounds negative, I’m sorry. That’s just my experience, from my perspective.

On the other hand, it’s not all bad.

Things actually seem to have gotten better over the past year. There seems to be less tension on the roads today than there was just a year ago. Maybe the Mandeville Canyon incident has made drivers rethink their attitudes.

Or maybe we’re all just trying a little harder to get along.

Then there’s the fact that even a bad day on the bike is better than just about anything else I might be doing. And for every negative moment on the road, there are a thousand moments that make it all worth while.

Some people at the forum thought that it was wrong to focus on the negatives. They felt that too much negativity might discourage people from riding.

And they have a point.

This sport needs its evangelists. We need people who will encourage beginners, and help them get the skills they need to start on a long, safe and rewarding riding career.

But we also need to talk about the wrongs we see and experience on the road. The things that can, and should, be changed, so that the people who start riding today will experience a better, safer and more bike friendly city than we did yesterday.

Because we owe them that.

 

One of my fellow panelists says it’s time to become a more considerate cyclist. According to Streetsblog, cyclists may finally be getting some respect in Washington. An economics professor at Oregon State University says instead of taxing cyclists, they should pay us to ride. An off-duty police officer in Tucson was killed when his bike was struck from behind in broad daylight; as usual, the driver was not cited. And also as usual, it doesn’t take long for the anti-cyclist rants to start. Another cyclist, also run down by a pickup truck, credits his survival to wearing a helmet; while this site suggest that learning how not to get hit in the first place is an even smarter option. Evidently, I’m not the only rider who complains about iPods on the bike paths. And finally, L.A. Magazine has added a postscript to their description of Los Angeles’ Bike Culture, discussing the role we cyclists may have played in influencing the outcome of last week’s primary election.

 

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A meditation on bicycling and driving in the City of Angels, pt. 2

February 26, 2009 / / One comment

It’s been said before that Los Angeles is a city of neighborhoods.

Sometimes the changes from one to another are subtle. West L.A. flows seamlessly into Santa Monica, Rancho Park into Culver City, Studio City into Sherman Oaks.

Other times, the changes are abrupt. There’s no question when you enter Koreatown, whether you’re traveling by bike, bus or car.

And most of us know our own neighborhoods.

For instance, I know the Westside. From La Brea west to the coast; from Mulholland to the Marina. I know the back roads that let you slip past the traffic tie-ups; I know when to take Wilshire or cut over to Arizona to make a meeting in Santa Monica. And I know where the bike lanes are, where it’s safe to ride on the right and where it’s safer to take the lane.

I also know a few other areas pretty well, such as the lower Valley area, from Studio City west to Woodland Hills. And I can find my way through Hollywood and Downtown, Burbank and Pasadena.

But like most Angelenos, get me out my comfort zone, out of the areas I know, and I’m lost. In a car, it’s a minor inconvenience. Just pull out your Thomas Guide, use your GPS, or stop someone and ask for directions. Or do what most locals do, and just take the freeway to bypass all those strange, unknown neighborhoods and the people who live there.

On a bike, it’s a different problem entirely.

L.A. streets were designed for cars, not bikes. And there are some streets that just aren’t safe for cycling — like Vermont between Beverly and Wilshire, as I noticed the other day. It’s so crowded, I’m not sure cars even belong there. But I guess that’s to be expected in the nation’s most congested city.

If you live or work in that area, you’d know not to ride on weekdays, during the day, anyway. On the other hand, if you just looked at a map, it might seem like a reasonable route to get from, say, Culver City to Silver Lake or Griffith Park.

Or you might try to take a busy street like 3rd, not knowing that there’s a perfectly reasonable, and safe, alternative just one block away.

The problem is, there is no Thomas Guide for bicyclists. There’s no practical system of interconnected bike lanes, paths and routes that lead coherently from one neighborhood to another. And even the best map currently available has so many gaps that it’s virtually useless for planning a trip — and makes no distinction between routes that are safe for casual riders, and routes that are best left to experts.

Or routes that aren’t safe for cycling at all, like the inexplicable bike route on Pico between Sepulveda and Century Park East, sections of which should never be ridden without a death wish.

Since cyclists, like nature, abhor a vacuum, some riders have tried to fill in the blanks by posting their own routes. For instance, Rearview Rider offers a great route from my ‘hood to the Bicycle District. Los Angeles Rides offers a map of routes from Mar Vista to Koreatown, as well as a wiki map-in-progress where cyclists can enter their own routes and tips. And C.I.C.L.E. offers a number of routes throughout the region.

But it shouldn’t be up to us to map out these routes.

It should be the job of our government to provide a safe system of interconnected lanes, trails and routes that can take a rider anywhere in the city. Or at the very least, to provide a workable map that clearly addresses how to safely and efficiently ride to any point in the greater metro area — including such prime destinations as Downtown, Hollywood, Griffith Park, Dodger Stadium, the Rose Bowl and the beaches — from any other point in the city.

Until that day, though, we’re on our own.

And the roads that lead through our neighborhoods will continue to be the lines that divide us, instead of bringing us together.

 

Google says it was just kidding about that real-time traffic map. Caltrans gives our local region legion an F. Is anyone really surprised? LA Streetsblog says it’s going to be a busy weekend for local cyclists. Bikes and parts are disappearing in Silver Lake. Gary turns his usual breath-taking camera skills towards the Tour of California. Consumer Reports says half of all cyclists aren’t using their heads. And finally, authorities respond quickly when cyclists on PCH get shot in the ass.

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

Cyclists v. drivers — who’s to bless and who’s to blame

February 12, 2009 / / One comment

So let’s pick up where we left off the other day.

I ended on Monday by saying, if I may be allowed to briefly quote myself:

…While it is in everyone’s best interest to encourage everyone to ride safely, as cyclists, we bear no more collective responsibility for the two-wheeled jerks, than other drivers do for the four-wheeled ones who are undoubtedly speeding down the 101 or 405 at this very moment.

Which is to say, none at all.

Later that day, I was flipping through the March issue of Bicycling, and found an excerpt from a truly devastating article by David Feherty, the bike riding CBS golf analyst who was nearly killed last year in a collision with a truck:

…I am sick up to my coin purse of hearing cyclists apologize for the behavior of a tiny minority of morons on two wheels. Sure, they give the rest of us a bad name. Get over it. This problem is caused by careless and inattentive drivers, period.

Read the article. Seriously.

But read it on an empty stomach. Because his description of the accident and its aftermath will make whatever you have in there want to come back out — the hard way.

I can’t agree with his contention that drivers are the only ones responsible for bicycling accidents. I’ve seen riders do some damn stupid things. Myself included.

But he’s absolutely right that it’s time to stop apologizing for the actions of a small minority of riders.

I am not responsible for the jerk I saw drafting on a Big Blue Bus through Santa Monica traffic last year. Neither are you. Unless you happen to be that jerk, in which case I’d really like to have a serious conversation with you.

No more than I am responsible for the driver who followed a city bus through a stop sign in Westwood yesterday, without even pausing. And nearly hit my car in the process.

We see it every day, whether we’re in the saddle or behind the wheel, crossing the street or riding the bus. Drivers speeding and weaving, running red lights and stop signs, making U-turns in traffic, reading behind the wheel, chatting on their cell phones or putting on makeup.

Yet no one would suggest that drivers are responsible for the careless and irresponsible actions of other drivers.

Frankly, I’m tired of being blamed for things I didn’t do. And having my life endangered by drivers who can’t be bothered to observe their legal responsibility to drive safely and attentively.

The problem is, we live in a society where most drivers aren’t held accountable for their actions. The legal requirement that all drivers carry liability insurance means that there is no financial penalty for having an accident — except in the most extreme cases — other than a possible increase in insurance rates.

And drivers are seldom held legally responsible for their actions, simply because we as a society insist on believing that most collisions are simply “accidents,” rather than the result of carelessness or a failure to drive safely and maintain control of the vehicle, as required by law.

Meanwhile, as noted by Bob Mionske, we face an institutional bias against cyclists, both in law enforcement and in the media, and an attitude of blame bicyclists first.

It’s not going to change.

Not unless we demand that it does. Demand that our elected officials enact laws that protect our right to the road, and place the burden of responsibility on the operator of the more dangerous vehicle. And support candidates who support cycling.

Demand educated and unbiased law enforcement, knowledgeable in the rights, as well as the responsibilities, of cyclists. And insist that the press report cycling incidents fairly and objectively, rather than just parroting police reports.

 

A Santa Barbara writer insists on her right to be irritated when a cyclist impedes the progress of her Suburban, while another writer encourages bikers to increase their chances of survival by riding responsibly. An Austin cyclists befriends other riders — and steals their bikes. CityWatch’s Stephen Box notes that LADOT’s bikeway successes remain works in progress. And Fox News discovers four of the country’s deadliest highways are right here in Southern California.

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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.

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Control the intersection, control your safety

January 26, 2009 / / 5 comments

 

Recently, my wife and I were driving up Doheny, just below Beverly, when we came upon a young woman riding slowly in the right lane.

She was nicely dressed, as if she was going out for the evening. Yet she seemed to know what she was doing, riding just inside the right lane — and just outside dooring range.

I made sure to give her a wide passing berth as I drove around her, as a courtesy from one cyclist to another, before stopping at a red light at the next intersection.

As we waited for the light to change, the rider carefully worked her way past the cars lined up behind us until she reached the intersection. Then she moved left, stopping in the crosswalk just in front of our car.

My wife was annoyed that she was in our way once again. But recognizing a skilled rider, I told her to be patient. And sure enough, as soon as the light turned green, she pulled to the right, allowing us — and the other cars behind us — to safely pass while she crossed the intersection, before reclaiming her space in the lane.

I could fault her for not wearing a helmet — while she looked great, her stylish tam wasn’t likely to offer much protection in the event of an accident — but I had to admire the way she rode. And the way she controlled the intersection.

Because an intersection — any intersection — can be a dangerous place for a cyclist. And too many make the mistake of letting traffic dictate how they ride, instead of taking control of the situation.

For instance, a lot of riders will just stop in place when traffic comes to a halt, and stay right where they are in the traffic lane behind the line of cars.

They probably think they’re doing the right thing. But drivers coming up from behind may not expect to find a bike there, and may not react in time. And waiting behind even a single car could hide a rider from cars coming from the opposite direction, dramatically increasing the risk of a collision.

Which is not to say that drivers shouldn’t be aware of everyone on the road — bikes and pedestrians included.

But this is the real world. And you shouldn’t risk your life based on the limited skills and attention spans of those sharing the road with you.

Moving up to the front of the line ensures that everyone can see you, no matter what direction they’re coming from. It also means that the cars behind you are stopped, instead of leaving you exposed and vulnerable to any cars that are still moving — and drivers who may not be paying attention.

But even riders who make a habit of moving up to the intersection sometimes stop there, and wait patiently next to the lead car.

That can present it’s own problems, though.

By waiting beside the lead car, you run the risk of blocking access to the right turn lane, preventing cars from being able to make the right turn on a red light that we Californians treasure as our God-given birthright. And that can mean having an angry, impatient driver behind you — which is never a good thing.

Then there’s the risk that the driver at the head of the line won’t notice you waiting there beside him, and make a sudden right turn across your path — or worse, directly into you.

But you can virtually eliminate that risk by moving slightly forward and to the left, coming to a stop in front of the driver’s right front bumper.

That way, the turning lane is clear for anyone who wants to go right. And you’re directly in the lead driver’s field of view, where he can’t help but see you — and blocking him from any sudden moves that could put you in danger. Yet you’re still close enough to the side that you can get out of the way quickly if anything goes wrong.

Then once the light changes, just move slightly to the right so the cars pass while you cross the road. And then back into the traffic lane when you reach the other side.

I’m usually faster off the line than most drivers, and often reach the other side long before they do. But I still move to the right when the light changes — both out of courtesy and to protect myself from any impatient jerks who feel the need to race me across the street.

Bob Mionske, the cycling lawyer, joins the debate on changing the law to treat stop signs as yields. A self-described mediocre cyclist wants your help to become a full-fledged racer. An Alaskan rider explains why some riders prefer the streets to a “perfectly good” bike trail. Green LA Girl notes that LACBC is looking for bilingual bike safety advocates. Finally, City Watch points the lack of bike parking — and quality crappers — at Downtown’s new LALive.

 

Category: Best of, Bicycle Safety / Tags: , , , , , ,

This bike lane is mine, God gave this lane to me

January 15, 2009 / / Comments Off on This bike lane is mine, God gave this lane to me

Today’s vastly oversimplified and seemingly off-topic history lesson:

It wasn’t that long ago, a little less than a century, that there were very few Jews in Israel. In fact, there was no Israel.

At the end of the first World War, less than 90,000 Jews lived in what was then known as Palestine. Then the Zionist Movement encouraged the migration of Jews to Palestine, reclaiming the land the Romans expelled them from nearly two millennia before.

The turmoil preceding World War II led to further migration, as did the resettlement of refugees following the Holocaust — resulting in the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948.

The only problem is, there were already people living there.

Over 700,000 Arab Palestinians became refugees virtually overnight. And a conflict began that defies resolution 60 years later, as two distinct groups claim their right to the same limited space.

Remind you of anything?

There was a time — a very brief time — when the bicycle was the king of the road; the cleaner, more efficient, new-fangled contraption that was to replace the horse and buggy. At least until the car came along and claimed the roads for themselves.

Bikes were relegated to the side of the road — or banned from the roadways entirely. Some cyclists and traffic planners believed the solution was to build segregated bike lanes and off-road paths; others felt the answer lay in reclaiming our space on road, just as any other form of vehicular traffic.

The problem was, drivers felt the streets belonged to them, and would not willingly give up any part of the road, or make way for what they considered an inferior mode of transportation invading their turf.

And so began the conflict we deal with every day. A cold — or sometimes, very hot — war between cyclists and drivers, as we fight for our right to ride, and the motorized world too often refuses to give an inch.

Does it compare to the tragedy currently unfolding in Gaza?

Of course not. But the roots of the conflict are similar, and a resolution just as unlikely.

Even the cycling community is divided as to what approach to take. Some riders refuse to be confined to a separate but unequal lifestyle; others are willing to utilize bike paths and lanes, but believe the solution lies in a better educated motoring public. Some believe in sharrows, while others are willing to fight for their bike lanes; yet even those who support those painted lines on the street accept that they may not always be the best solution.

Then there are those of us who want to take their bike lanes with them, and others who are just happy to stay off the sidewalk.

As for me, I suppose I have a wheel in both camps. I agree with Will, in that I believe the ideal solution lies in educating drivers, so they’re more willing to share the road. And make room for us as equal users of the streets.

I just don’t believe that will ever happen.

So unless, and until, it does, I will take my place on the road, while staking my claim to the bike lane — even if it doesn’t go anywhere. And fight to defend it from any form of abuse, encroachment or foreign invaders. Because separate and unequal may not be ideal, or even right, but it’s ours.

And right now, it’s the best we’ve got.

Gary reports on Bike Kill, complete with killer photos. Matt fills us in on L.A.’s upcoming tour de hills (and yes, we do have a few), while Will once again demonstrates his mastery of the cyclist’s revenge — with no blood, or anything else, spilled. C.I.C.L.E. announces their new office in Northeast L.A., courtesy of the brewers of my favorite beer. Denver follows up on its bike sharing program during the Democratic Convention with an affordable city-wide rent-a-ride plan. And Lauren, AKA hardrockgirl, fills us in on her first four months of L.A. riding, part 1 (and thanks for the kind word).

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

The art of self defense

January 8, 2009 / / 2 comments

A few decades ago, when I was living in Louisiana, riding was not exactly a safe activity.

It wasn’t the traffic, or the narrow streets. It wasn’t the heatstroke-inducing humidity. Or even mosquitoes large enough to show up on local air traffic control.

It was the assaults.

From getting intentionally run off the road or doored by drunken frat boys, to riders getting mugged as they waited for stop lights while riding through one of the poorer sections of town — reminiscent of last year’s problems on the Ballona Creek bike path. Not to mention the usual problems of trash, sodas and other assorted flotsam flung from passing cars.

I dealt with it by refusing to stop for red lights in that part of town — following the advice of a friend on the local police force. And never riding after an LSU football or basketball game.

A friend of mine dealt with it by strapping a .22 revolver to his handlebars.

It was legal under Louisiana law at the time, since it wasn’t a concealed weapon. And according to him, all it took was a brief gesture towards the gun to make any threatening drivers — or anyone else — back off.

I was reminded of that after reading recent posts from Brayj, Gary and the Rearview Rider, which ranged from a slap on the ass to a late-night mugging.

While arming ourselves is an extreme reaction, we do experience a high level of vulnerability when we ride. We are exposed on the road, subject to the whims and impulses, criminal and otherwise, of those around us.

And hunched over our handlebars, balanced on two wheels, we are in no position to defend ourselves. Unlike drivers, we don’t have glass and steel, door locks and airbags to protect ourselves. Or isolate us — in perception, if nothing else — from those who might wish to do us harm, even if it’s only for their own amusement.

I don’t have a solution to offer.

Over the years, I’ve learned to defend myself from angry dogs and angry cyclists. The former will usually respond to a firm command ordering them to sit or stay; the latter will invariably back off when confronted with a hard object — say, an air pump or tire lever — about to be jammed through their spokes.

But as for criminal activity, threatening drivers and assorted jokesters, I have yet to find an effective means of self-defense, nor an effective response. And unlike Rearview Rider’s experience, I have yet to find a police officer who will take something like that seriously.

The only solution I’ve been able to come up with is to begin shopping for small video camera like the one Will uses. But one small enough to be mounted on my helmet, so it will record whatever I look at — such as a license plate — rather than mounting it on the bike, so it only records what’s directly in front of me.

It might not be an ideal solution. But it beats the hell out of a gun.

And if anyone has a better suggestion, I’d love to hear it.

 

Gary nurtures his competitive instincts with a spin around the Velodrome, while ultra-rider Matt posts his interview with Peak.com (part 1 and part 2). If you’re looking for a good cause, Mikey Wally suggests Africycle, an organization dedicated to improving access to bicycles in Africa. And C.I.C.L.E. relays winter biking tips from Minnesota, in case we experience a sudden freeze on the boardwalk this year.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,
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