Tag Archive for bicycle safety

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.

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: , , , , , , , ,

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: , , , , ,

An unexpected change in direction

January 7, 2009 / / 2 comments

This is not the post I intended to write.

I had planned to write about the challenges of winter riding here in L.A. — winter being a relative term, of course. And how the spandex-clad can dress effectively for cooler weather, including tips on how to avoid chaffing, both above and below the belt.

A post so brilliant, witty and insightful, it would have virtually guaranteed my first Pulitzer, and the love and admiration of cyclists everywhere.

Maybe another time. Because something happened today that I feel compelled to comment on (or, on which I feel compelled to comment, for those grammatical sticklers out there).

At the end of 28 cool, if uneventful miles, I found myself riding through a residential neighborhood just four blocks from my home.

Off to my left, I noticed a minivan starting to back out of a driveway just up the block. As I drew closer, I could see the driver carefully avoid the trash cans that were waiting for pickup along the curb. Then she checked for traffic, looking first to her left, then her right.

The only place she didn’t look was behind her.

Which was where I was about to be.

I had planned to be polite, and stop so she could back out. Unfortunately, from the angle of her car, it was clear that her path was going to take her to the exact spot I was occupying.

So I yelled a warning, and stood on my pedals to get the hell out of her way. She jammed on her brakes, and once again looked both ways to see who was yelling at her — and once again, failed to take a single glance behind her.

In fact, she never once saw me, before or after I yelled. Although how anyone could miss a 6 foot tall, 180 pound cyclist in a bright yellow jersey is beyond me.

But that’s not the scary part.

What’s really scary about this was, what if it hadn’t been an experienced cyclist behind her — someone with the skill to recognize the danger, and get out of the way before anything could happen?

What if it had been one of the many kids in neighborhood who ride up and down the street — never leaving their block because their parents think they’ll be safe there. Someone much smaller, without the skill to recognize the danger, let alone get out of the way in time.

Or maybe it could have been one of the many people who inexplicably walk their dogs in the street, rather than the sidewalk. Or a parent or nanny walking their kids across the street.

The point is, it’s fine to check for oncoming traffic when you back up a car. But there other users of our streets that are much smaller, and harder to see.

And if you don’t know for a fact what’s behind you, don’t back up the damn car until you do.

 

San Francisco forces cyclists and drivers to share a lane — in order to make things safer. Detroit riders share the frozen winter roads. My favorite brewery, in my favorite home town, is funding sustainable biking right here in my current home town. Mexico City cyclists fight bad streets — and worse drivers — for their space on the road. And China, home of the famous Flying Pigeon, rediscovers the fizz of cycling,

Category: General / Tags: , , ,

The beauty of vulnerability

December 16, 2008 / / One comment

Awhile back, Timur wrote — beautifully, I might add — about vulnerability.

It’s one of my favorite posts, one I’ve referred back to many times and linked to more than once. I suppose one reason it resonates so strongly with me, aside from the infinite wisdom and good taste he demonstrates in quoting yours truly, is the way he captures the vulnerability we all experience as cyclists, and turns it into a positive — that the things that make us vulnerable are the same things that provide such a unique experience of our city, and our world. An experience that cannot be shared from behind the wheel of a car.

I suppose that’s one of the many reasons it bothers me to see a cyclist wearing headphones. Aside from the added, unnecessary risk of being unable to hear the sounds that could the rider’s life, I don’t understand the needless disconnection from the sounds around them.

And as much as I love music, I can’t understand why anyone would choose even the most vivid and vibrant playlist, rather than experience the world in which they live.

But that’s just me, I guess.

What started me thinking about Timur’s post was reading about this.

The author, Brayj, is someone I’ve never met. Yet, like many others in the local biking blogoshpere, someone I feel like I know in some ethereal cyber way. He tends to comment more than he posts himself; when I see his screen name in the comment section, I always make a point of reading it — he has a skill for cutting to the heart of a matter, in a way that often brings a smile, if not outright laughter.

And this world could use a little more levity.

Having been there myself, I would guess he keeps turning this incident over in his mind, analyzing the steps that brought him there — from a crippled bike that prevented any attempt at escape, to being alone at a late hour in a dodgy neighborhood.

Of course, it’s easy to second guess. But avoiding such situations would require a degree of omniscience the gods have not seen fit to bless us mortals with. In this world, even the most innocent action or seemingly benign decision can lead to unexpected consequences. And the worst things can happen in the best neighborhoods, any time of day.

In my case, it happened when I was in my 20s, working on the edge of a minority neighborhood in the deep south, at a time and place when races seldom mixed. As I entered the store one night, I struck up a conversation with a couple of young men who were coming in, laughing and joking with them — even holding the door open for them. Right up to the point that they pulled out a couple of very large guns and demanded all the money in the store.

Suddenly, they didn’t seem so friendly anymore. Especially when they started arguing back and forth about whether or not to shoot me. One of them — the one holding the large Glock to the back of my head — wanted to know what it felt like to “kill a white guy.” The other one, who I instantly took a liking to, just wanted to take the money and run.

Since they couldn’t make up their minds, I tried to take control of the situation, in whatever limited way I could. So I handed them my wallet, and said I was just going to walk away without looking back. Then I took a few steps, waiting for that bullet to enter my brain, and wondering what it would feel like to die. But after a few seconds, I heard the sound of footsteps running away behind me, and knew I was going to make it through another day.

As it turned out, I was lucky to meet them at the beginning of their crime spree. A couple nights later, another store was robbed by two men matching the same description; the clerk was pistol-whipped and left with permanent injuries. They were finally caught after a half-dozen increasingly violent robberies, including the final one, in which the clerk — a white guy — was shot for no apparent reason.

I spent a lot of time reexamining the events leading up to that moment from every possible angle, over and over again. And it was very tempting to just pack up and leave, and never allow myself to be that vulnerable again.

But I would have missed out on some of the best experiences of my life. Like hearing a gospel choir in an all-black church, and being invited to join them for the church supper that followed — some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. Or more than once, being the only white face in a blues club owned by the legendary Tabby Thomas. Not to mention some of the best friends I’ve ever had.

So I ended up taking the opposite approach, and allowed myself to experience that vulnerability, in my work and in life, in love and on my bike. To experience life as deeply and fully as possible, wherever that may take me.

Over the years, I’ve paid the price in heartbreak and scars, and had to pick myself back up more than once. But as I’ve also had rare and precious moments of genuine transcendence — experiences that made every bump and bruise along the way more than worthwhile.

Of course, now that I’m married, I try to be more careful. I spend more time evaluating which risks are worth taking, because I have more to lose, and a good woman who expects me to make it back home, in one piece, at the end of the day.

But I will never give up that vulnerability, that willingness to accept the risks and suffer the consequences, in order to have those experiences and that intimate connection with life, and the world around me.

And maybe I’m wrong.

But I have a feeling that once the dust settles, Brayj will make the same choice.

 

Will lights up the annual Toy Ride. Literally. Los Altos backs off on an effort to illegally ban bikes from a popular cycling route. Our local Bike Snob questions who would pony up for this ride for sale on Craigslist. While our city bike planners struggle to put a workable cycling network together, a nationwide bike net it taking shape. Finally, here’s your chance to be the new Bike Coordinator for the Los Angeles Department of Transportation.

Category: General / Tags: , , , ,

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

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

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

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

Today’s post, in which I call long distance

December 3, 2008 / / 3 comments

Switchboard.

Hi, uh…is the Big Guy in?

Hold please.

“…Heaven…must be missing an angel…”

God here.

Uh, the God?

Yo.

All knowing, king of kings, creator of heaven and earth…?

Look, was there something you needed? I’m kinda busy here.

Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be, you know, so easy to reach.

Good timing. Just got off a call on the Pope’s direct line.

The Pope has a direct line?

Yeah. Just wish he’d use it a little more often, you know?

Yeah.

So?

Oh. Sorry. See, I’ve been working in-house for a company out in the Marina this week…

Mmmm hmmmm. All knowing, remember?

Oh, right. Sorry.

Stop saying that.

Okay, sor…uh, yeah, so I noticed when I was driving back from work…

You could ride, you know.

Well, there’s no place to shower, see, and I have to run errands at lunch.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Anyway, I’ve been worried about some of the cyclists I see when I’m driving. I mean, some of these guys are out there at rush hour, riding in the dark, with no light, no helmet and no common sense, cutting in and out of traffic like it was daylight. Like this one guy, dressed all in black on a dark street with no streetlights, if he hadn’t been backlit by another car’s headlights, I never would have known he was there.

And…?

I was hoping you could do something for them, you know, like divine protection or something. ‘Cause they’re gonna need it if they keep riding like that.

Look, I’d like to help. Really, I would. But there’s only so much I can do.

But you’re…

All powerful. Yeah, I know. But it’s that free will thing. I can’t protect people from their own foolish choices.

Okay, I get it. But can we at least give them sharrows or something?

Take it up with city council. It’s a jurisdictional thing. I get the planets and stars, they get the city streets.

Bummer.

Yeah, you’d think they could at least get the damn streets paved.

Well, thanks anyway. Wish your son a Merry Christmas for me.

He’s Jewish.

Oh. Well, happy Hanuk…

(CLICK)

 

Alex dodges a hot pursuit in Culver City. And for once, they weren’t running cyclists out of town. Timur ruminates on his second Critical Mass. Town Mouse reminds us that there are more challenging surfaces for cycling than our crumbling city streets. Our local Bike Snob is shocked – shocked – to find a Rock Racing cyclist on dope. A couple local cycling clubs are holding Toy Rides for Tots. And finally, it turns out Gold Line stations may not be the best places to leave a bike.

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