Tag Archive for Los Angeles

Socially conscious commuters? Or law-flaunting demons from hell?

July 21, 2008 / / 11 comments

There’s an intersection in front of my building with a 4-way stop. You don’t have to stand there very long to note that most cars passing through fail to come to anything near a complete stop; many go right through without even slowing down, as if the stop sign wasn’t there. Or as if standard traffic laws don’t apply to them.

And don’t get me started on turn signals. The drivers who actually signal their intentions, at this or any other Los Angeles intersection, sometimes seem rare enough to be the exception, rather than the rule.

Based on those observations, I could assume that everyone behind the wheel in Los Angeles is a bad driver.

I know that’s not true, though. I’m a driver myself — one who actually takes the time to observe stop signs and use his turn signals. And everyday, I see other people driving courteously and carefully; they’re just not the ones who stand out.

Or any time I’m out on Santa Monica Blvd, it’s almost a given that I’ll see someone in an expensive sports car — or driving like he wishes he had one — weaving dangerously in and out of traffic at speeds far above the posted limit. That could lead me to assume that all drivers of high-performance vehicles speed and drive recklessly; yet, again, I often see Porsches, Ferraris, Vantages and other high-powered vehicles driven as placidly as a soccer mom’s minivan.

So why do so many people in this town think that all bicyclists are alike?

You see it all the time in the comments that follow virtually any online post about bicycling, such as the comments on the Times website concerning the good  doctor’s Mandeville Canyon brake test, or on bulletin boards such as  Craigslist, like this comment.  Or you could have seen it again in the Times’ Letters to the Editor on Saturday, in response to the paper’s editorial urging drivers to stop harassing cyclists. (Inexplicably, the Times has posted letters from everyday except Saturday on their site; I’m including the link on the off chance that they might rectify their oversight.)

Bicyclists are aggressive. They flaunt the law. They (gasp!) ride two or more abreast.

Take this excerpt from one of Saturday’s letters: Cyclists are insistent about their right to equal use of the road (ed: actually, the California vehicle code is insistent on that), but they couldn’t care less about following the rules of the road. Only the privileges apply to them, not the responsibilities.

Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. The biking community includes everyone from casual beach cruisers to off roaders to fixies to road racers, with a multitude of attitudes and riding styles in between. Some flaunt the law, others — I dare say, most — observe it to varying degrees.

Others carve out an exemption of one sort or another from the greater mass of evil riders, such as the next writer, who distinguishes from those “going green” and riding for transportation purposes, and other riders simply out for recreation. Of course, in her eyes, the “green” riders are the ones who observe riding etiquette, while the “pleasure riders” are the ones who “encourage road rage.” (Ed: more on that tomorrow.)

Isn’t it just possible, however, that some cyclists ride for both pleasure and transportation? Couldn’t someone commute on two wheels during the week, then don spandex before hitting the road for pleasure on the weekends?

As I’ve noted before, I try to ride safely and courteously, stopping for stop signs and red lights, and giving drivers room to pass whenever possible. And from what I’ve seen on the road, I’m not the only one. I often find myself striking up a conversation with other riders waiting patiently for the light to change — including, on occasion, members of professional racing teams in town for one reason or another.

Sure, there are rude and dangerous riders out there, just as there are rude and dangerous drivers. And they aren’t all high-speed roadies; I’ve seen as many — if not more — casual riders blow through red lights as I have those on high-end racing bikes. But my own personal experience tells me they are the exceptions, rather than the rule.

Judging from comments like these, though, there seem to be a number of people here in the City of Fallen Angels who assume we all have 666 birthmarks hidden somewhere under our spandex.

 

The Times discusses rage-less road sharing today, Westside Bikeside! recounts the comments of a clueless councilman in neighboring Santa Monica, and Streetsblog talks with an expert on remorseless, horn-blaring sociopaths.

Category: Best of, General / Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

A quick morning update

July 16, 2008 / / Comments Off on A quick morning update

Just a short update this morning. Not that I don’t have anything to say, but it’s a beautiful morning and I just tuned the bike, so I hear the road calling. I’m thinking a quick run down the coast to Hermosa and back — should be roughly a half-century ride by the time I’m done. So if you see a guy in a yellow jersey on a black LeMond, please hold your fire.

In the meantime, the author of Westside Bikeside! has a good write-up on his life as a red-light scofflaw. LAist responds with a citation from the California Vehicle Code that indicates he might not be breaking the law after all, though I suspect most cops might respond with a different kind of citation. LAist also has an open letter to the community from Bill Rosendahl on “A new attitude and new culture of road sharing.

And this fat tire girl is looking for suggestions for traffic and red light-free routes around here (yeah, good luck with that).

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

Let’s live to fight another day

July 12, 2008 / / Comments Off on Let’s live to fight another day

Kudos to the Los Angeles Times for having the good taste to quote your truly in a recent online article about the ongoing war between L.A. drivers and cyclists. By my calculation, this means I should have roughly 12 minutes and 37 seconds of fame remaining.

Frankly, when I started this blog a few weeks back, I really didn’t know where I was planning to go with it. But I certainly didn’t think expect to be dealing with the sort of topics we have this week.

In nearly 30 years as a serious biker, I’ve ridden all across the country, from backwater bayous and Colorado canyons to high-speed highways and crowded city streets. But I can honestly say this City of Fallen Angels is the only place I’ve ever been afraid to ride.

It didn’t take long to learn that most local roads have no shoulders, forcing you into traffic lanes with drivers who routinely ignore the speed limit, turning 35 mph boulevards in 50+ mph freeways. That what little bike lane system we do enjoy starts and stops at random, in what could only be an attempt to thin the herd. That local drivers have no patience for bicyclists, and won’t share the road if it means a few seconds of inconvenience. And that the local police usually operate from a policy of blame the cyclist first.

The simple fact is, even the most careless or aggressive cyclists represent little more than a minor annoyance to most drivers, easily passed and quickly forgotten.

Yet for us riders, it’s a different matter entirely. For us, cars represent potentially lethal weapons, fully locked and loaded, and, too often, pointed directly at us. Unlike the driver, we have no seat belts or airbags — let alone a few tons of steel — to protect us. So even in a minor collision can be, quite literally, a matter of life and death.

Like Stoehr and Peterson, we’ve all been confronted with angry motorists — though in most cases, not so extreme as the good doctor, who it turns out may have done this before. I dealt with mine by signaling for my next turn with just one finger extended, which got my rear wheel intimately acquainted with the chrome bumper behind it, and got me 4 weeks in a sling followed by 6 weeks of rehab.

So I’ve learned my lesson. Now when I’m confronted with an angry driver, I just pull to the right, stop my bike, and let them pass. Because I may have a legal right to the road, but it’s not worth defending my rights if it means my wife is going to get another call saying which Emergency Room she can find me in.

A Cyclists’ Bill of Rights would certainly help. But so does a strong self-preservation instinct, and enough sense to know which battles are winnable.

And car vs. bike isn’t one of them.

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

Call your publicist. Because we have an image problem.

July 11, 2008 / / 2 comments

We all know that bicyclists are nice people. Well, most of us, anyway.

We’ll stop to help a fallen cyclist, or a total stranger. We’ll give directions to lost tourists, and hand our last good tube over to some schmuck who forgot to pack a patch kit. We’ll wave to let a driver know it’s safe to pass, or thank one for giving us the right of way. And the first aid kit I keep in my seat bag has been used more on people I don’t know than on people I do. Or on myself, for that matter.

But we have a real problem. Because that’s not how the world sees us.

On July 9th, Illuminate LA featured an excellent recap of how the local bike community sprang into action following the July 4th Mandeville Canyon incident. But what caught my attention was the comment that followed from the author of SoapBoxLA.

He tallied the number of anti-bike comments expressed on the LA Times Bottleneck Blog article about the road rage incident on the 4th.  And let me tell you, it’s not pretty. Just a few samples:

  • Cyclists break the law (27)
  • Cyclists are arrogant, have feelings of entitlement (27)
  • Cyclists should not be on the road; the road is for vehicles only (23)
  • …If a vehicle/bike altercation happens, the cyclist must be at fault in some way (12)
  • …Cyclists incite harassment from vehicles by not following the law (8)

And my personal favorite:

  • Cars are bigger and therefore have more rights (1)

That, my friends, is how we’re perceived right here in the City of Fallen Angels. Don’t believe it? Just go to the local Rants & Raves section on Craiglist, and post a comment about bicycling. Any comment. Then see how long it takes before the hate posts and death threats start stacking up in response. (Granted, CL isn’t exactly a hotbed of credibility; the RnR section has long gotten my vote as the most racist place in cyberspace.)

The point is, we’ve got a problem. And we’re the only ones who can do something about it.

As my loyal reader (notice I didn’t include the phrase, “one of”) — Pops commented on earlier post, bicyclists need to do a better job of p-r if we’re going to make any headway in the traffic world.

And we need to do it fast. Because as the Mandeville incident illustrates, your life — or mine — could depend on it.

Category: Best of, General / Tags: , , , ,

Road rage against the machine

July 8, 2008 / / One comment

Here’s the problem with biking in L.A. Okay, one of ’em, anyway.

This is a city where the car is God, and any heretic who gets in its path is taking his life in his hands. Sure, the law gives us a right to the road. But that only extends as far as the bumper of the cars around us.

L.A. is a town full of angry drivers, already upset about slogging their way through heavy traffic and steaming about the last driver(s) who cut them off — let alone the high cost of fueling their Hummers. And when they find there route momentarily slowed by people shrink-wrapped in ridiculous spandex outfits, that rage often boils over.

Latest case in point: the recent 4th of July incident in Mandeville Canyon, in which two local riders were intentionally injured by a driver who sped around them, then slammed on the brakes just feet in front of their wheels. As you might expect, both riders were badly injured, one eating the pavement after clipping the car’s fender, while the other did a face plant in the rear windshield, nearly losing his nose in the process. The driver — a doctor, no less — just stood there screaming at the injured riders and refusing to offer any medical care to the people he injured.

At least this time, the local gendarmes made an arrest.

We’ve all been there. Anyone who’s spent a significant amount of time riding the mean streets of the misnamed City of Angels has their own stories to tell of drivers who’ve intentionally doored, dinged or otherwise dusted them in some fashion. But very few of us can tell a story of the L.A.P.D. actually doing something about it.

Like there was the time some gang bangers knocked me off my bike in Venice and circled around me as I lay on the pavement. Lo and behold, I looked up and just a few feet away stood an L.A. cop. I yelled for help and the gangsters took off running — right past the officer, who stood there watching them run. So I yelled again for the cop to stop them because they had just attacked me, and I swear to God, he looked at me and said “So what do you want me to do about it?”

His job would have been nice. But I suppose what was too much to expect.

Then there was the time a driver got pissed off that I was impeding her progress on an otherwise empty street, and couldn’t be bothered to go a few feet out of her way to pass me. Instead, she followed me for about a block, honking and screaming the whole way. When I got to the stop sign at the next corner, I turned around for a moment to look at her, then signaled for my right turn (granted, I only extended one finger, but still…).

Next thing I knew, her bumper was in my back wheel and I was on the pavement. Once I gathered my wits, I blocked her path so she couldn’t leave, whipped out my cell and dialed 911. A crowd gathered. Helicopters circled. The police, finally, arrived.

Yet when the dust cleared, the local constabulary did absolutely…nothing. They accepted her contention that I had simply fallen over — from a dead stop, no less — injuring myself and causing the damage to my bike.

And instead of taking her into custody — or even writing a ticket, for chrissake — I was threatened with arrest for A) making a false 911 call and B) threatening her life; somehow, my comments of “You tried to kill me,” got twisted into “I’m going to kill you.”

Why I would want to kill a total stranger if I had simply fallen over on my own was never explained to me.

So, I may not be a rocket scientist, but I’ve learned my lesson. No more fingers. When confronted with an angry driver, just stop and let him or her pass.

And never, ever count on the L.A.P.D.

Category: General / Tags: , , , , ,

So here’s the problem.

June 27, 2008 / / Comments Off on So here’s the problem.

Here’s the problem with bicycling in L.A. (Okay, one of the problems.) Unlike other places I’ve lived, there’s really no great place to ride here.

What should be L.A.’s crown jewel – the beachfront bike path that runs from Will Rogers State Beach in Pacific Palisades down past Redondo Beach – is so clogged with pedestrians and drunken tourists (is that redundant?) that it’s almost impassible at times. The lower section, below the marina, is usually better. But the upper section, through Santa Monica and Venice, is so bad that it’s not even worth riding if you can’t get there before noon. And most riders just avoid it entirely from Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Even if you wanted to ride it, the problem is getting there.

Some people try riding the major streets like Santa Monica, Wilshire or Olympic Boulevards, which is akin to playing Russian Roulette with five live rounds.

The Ballona Creek bike trail, which runs from Culver City all the way to the coast, should be a freeway for the velo crowd. But the need to swerve around all the homeless encampments and drunks passed out in your pathway kind of limits its ride-ability. As does the fact that it runs through some of the most dangerous, crime and gang-infested neighborhoods in the city. (Evidently, I’m not the only one to notice this sort of problem.) So if a nice young man with facial tattoos stops to admire your bike, I’d suggest giving it to him. Seriously.

You can get to the beach by taking the bike lanes on Colorado, if you don’t mind stopping every few blocks and dodging buses once you get below 4th. Or you can try avoiding all the oblivious drivers with their surgically attached cell phones on Montana.

But the best, and most popular, route to the coast is the bike lanes along San Vicente Blvd. Unlike most of L.A., the drivers on San Vicente are used to seeing bicyclists, so they usually drive safely, and there are no stops signs, and only two stop lights, giving you a safe, fast ride. But even here you can have problems, like when a construction or film crew takes over the bike lane for no apparent reason, forcing you to compete with drivers for the limited space remaining in the traffic lanes.

And don’t even get me started on riding PCH through Malibu.

Sure, it’s flat and scenic, making it one of the area’s most popular rides. But with narrow – or sometimes no – shoulders on the road, high speed traffic, countless cars turning right in or out of driveways, and frequent construction sites that force riders into traffic lanes – which resulted in the death of two riders a couple years ago – it’s often more demolition derby than relaxing ride.

Sure, I used to ride it anyway, like everyone else. But these days, my wife insists that I come home in one piece.

Go figure.

Category: Advocacy & Politics, General / Tags: , , , ,

Biking on little cat feet

June 25, 2008 / / Comments Off on Biking on little cat feet

I’m really not a fan of bicycling in Los Angeles.

Sure, I ride here, because this is where I live.  But of all the places I’ve tried to ride, this town ranks pretty near the bottom.  The only place I’d rank lower was Baton Rouge, LA, where I could count on getting run off the road or doored every time the frat boys at LSU had a few too many.  Which was pretty much every weekend, now that I think about it.

But there are days that make it all worthwhile.  Like the other day, when I took a quick run down the coast to cool off from an early season heat wave.  It was just early enough in the day to beat the crowds that usually clog the beachfront bike as the day goes on, and the weather at the beach was perfect.

I was feeling good, so I just kept going, past sailboats and surfers, seagulls and sun-drenched beach babes tanning on the shore.  After about 25 miles, it was time to turn around, so I stopped briefly in Hermosa Beach to tighten a spoke and eat one of the Kashi bars I keep in my seat bag.

And in that short amount of time, a heavy fog rolled in, blanketing the coast and completely changing the texture of my return.  Instead of clear, sparkling views, I passed through a heavy grey curtain, hiding all my landmarks and parting only briefly to unveil a building or allow another rider to pass by.  As I rode, I could see breakers come out of nowhere, sometimes bearing a surfer floating out of the haze.

The result was a sense of splendid isolation, as if I was somehow cut off from the world, and every person and object I passed was a welcome revelation.

Of course, it’s one thing to savor a fog like that on an isolated bike path; quite another to slog through traffic when you can’t see where the cars are coming from.  But within a few blocks of the beach, the fog — and that magical feeling — melted away.

(The title refers to a poem by Carl Sandberg, which begins, “The fog comes on little cat feet…”)

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