Tag Archive for why I do what I do

Celebrating 10 years of SAFE & why I do what I do, Metro joins HLA lawsuit, and MAAP LaB LA lands on Abbot Kinney

Day 258 of LA’s Vision Zero failure to end traffic deaths by 2025. 

………

I got a little dose of inspiration yesterday.

My wife, the corgi and I attended the first part of SAFE’s 10th anniversary celebration yesterday evening, before we had to leave for a family commitment.

The nonprofit group known as Streets Are For Everyone was born from Damian Kevitt’s first Finish the Ride, after more than 600 people turned out to ride with him to finish what started out as a pleasant bike ride with his wife, before it was interrupted by a heartless hit-and-run driver.

I covered that horrific 2013 crash from the very beginning as best I could, based on the cryptic reports available at the time.

But in time, it became clear that Kevitt had been struck by the driver of a van while riding on Zoo Drive, and dragged hundreds of feet onto the northbound 5 Freeway by the fleeing driver.

He freed himself from under the van by sheer force of will. And likely survived only because the trailing drivers saw what was happening and stopped to protect him, and because some of those cars has people with medical training, who began treating him at the scene before paramedics arrived.

The odds that he would survive his multiple life-threatening injuries were somewhere between slim and none. But his mother refused to give up and fought for him at every turn. And Damian’s sheer will to live was evident when he told her and his wife that he would one day finish that ride, whatever it took.

In those ten years, Damian has gone from a victim to founder of a successful organization that has spawned other traffic safety groups and shepherded a number of important bills through the state legislature, as well as memorializing victims and calling attention to our most dangerous streets.

He has become someone I truly admire and consider a good friend. And along with Streets For All founder Michael Schneider and Streetsblog’s Joe Linton, he’s one of the first people I reach out to with any bike or pedestrian safety problem that demands a solution.

We are lucky to have people and groups like that fighting for us every day.

Listening to the inspiring stories from other victims of traffic violence, along with SAFE staffers and volunteers, it coalesced in my own mind just why I do what I do, and what keeps me fighting when our mean streets and uncaring officials continue to drag me down and break my heart.

For the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, I can now sum it up in two simple sentences.

I want everyone who wants to ride a bicycle to be able to ride one, regardless of who they are or where they live.

And I want everyone who leaves home today on a bicycle to get home safely.

That’s it.

I’ll keep fighting for that as long as I have any fight in me. Sometimes I think that day was yesterday. And sometimes I think I’m just getting started.

One other note before we move on.

One of the speakers yesterday described how he was struck by a driver and badly injured just five months after moving to Los Angeles. And yesterday’s CicLAvia was the first time he had ridden a bike in this city since.

It was a reminder just how important CicLAvia and other open streets events like Beach Streets in Long Beach, and Active Streets in the San Gabriel Valley, are to all of us.

Because without them, many people in the this car-choked megalopolis wouldn’t ride bikes again.

Or at all.

Top photo: Damian Kevitt speaking at SAFE 10th Anniversary event.

………

Speaking of Joe Linton, his HLA lawsuit over the city’s failure to include bike lanes in the Vermont Ave bus lane project was in court on Friday, as Metro fought to be included in the case.

And it’s important to note that Linton’s lawsuit is a personal matter, unrelated to his work for Streetsblog.

In a very narrow ruling, the judge concluded that Metro could join the suit, but could only focus on the Vermont case, and not any other possible cases.

As Linton describes it on his personal website B.I.K.A.S, which stands for Bicycle Infrastructure Knowledge Activism and Safety,

In the discussion in court, the judge engaged Metro’s lawyers regarding how expansive this case would be. Metro’s earlier filing noted that my lawsuit “attacked” Metro’s authority to build “the Vermont Project and other Metro projects.” The judge asked Metro’s lawyer if it was ok to strike references to other projects, and just focus on Vermont. Metro’s lawyer agreed. Towards the end of the discussion, the judge summarized that this trial would focus on one project on Vermont, and that another day could focus on another project on, for example, Western or Alameda

That’s it for now.

Going forward, Metro will undoubtedly argue that HLA is a city ordinance that does not apply to them as a county agency, while Linton’s attorneys will argue that Metro is working for the city on a city project, on a city street included in the city mobility plan.

It will be interesting to see how this develops from here.

………

Conservative media was up in arms over a former member of the USA Cycling National team, after the transgender BMX rider appeared to celebrate the assassination of Charlie Kirk.

Although I’m not sure if they were more appalled because of the Instagram posts or the gender identity of the person behind them.

I haven’t commented about the shooting here because it falls outside of the scope of this site.

But as someone who lived through the killings of both Kennedys and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., as well as the attempted assassinations of Presidents Ford and Reagan, and the near-fatal shooting of Alabama Governor George Wallace, I can attest that no good ever comes from political violence.

And you can’t kill an idea, good or bad, with a bullet.

………

Aussie bikewear brand MAAP has opened their first North American store right here in Los Angeles.

Known for high-performance gear and a culture-first approach, the company’s MAAP LaB Los Angeles landed on iconic Abbot Kinney Blvd in Venice, their eighth location outside of Australia.

According to StupidDope, it’s designed to be a creative hub for bicyclists and creatives.

At its heart lies a social coffee bar, an anchor point meant to bring riders together before and after their rides. It’s more than a retail space; it’s a venue where cyclists and Venice locals alike can gather, share stories, and connect over a shared passion for performance and design. This approach reflects MAAP’s “Life Around Bikes” philosophy — a reminder that cycling culture is about more than the ride itself.

They’re not the first to try that approach.

And Abbot Kinney is littered with the gravesites of other high-end bike brands who thought they had a “can’t miss” concept in the ideal location.

But let’s hope it succeeds this time.

………

Don’t forget the two important meetings today

First the Encino Neighborhood Council’s Traffic and Transportation Committee considers the threatened Amestoy Ave pedestrian bridge over the 101 Freeway in a virtual meeting starting at 4:45 pm.

Then starting at 6 pm, the West Hollywood City Council takes up the Fountain Ave safe streets makeover. WeHo residents can watch on Spectrum Cable channel 10 and YouTube; I’m hoping the latter works for those of us in LA, too. And comments can submitted online prior to the meeting.

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Local 

Well, no shit. LAist says Los Angeles is lagging behind on installing the speed cams approved over a year ago by the state legislature. If “lagging behind” means not installing any yet, that is. 

A Long Beach man was hospitalized with non-life-threatening upper and lower body injuries, after allegedly swerving his bicycle in front of a driver while on PCH in Long Beach. Although we often find that drivers swear a bike rider swerved in front of them or came out of nowhere, when in actuality they just weren’t paying attention. 

 

State

Costa Mesa will offer free ebike safety lessons for school kids on September 27th.

Carlsbad is looking for input on whether to ban ebike use for kids under 12. I’m down with that, but maybe make 14, instead.

A kindhearted Santa Clara County sheriff’s deputy arranged the donation of a new bike to a nine-year old kid after his was stolen.

The CEO of The San Francisco Standard news site describes what it’s like to get sideswiped by a pickup driver while nearing the end of a 100-mile training ride. But be careful if you don’t want to see it, because security cam video at the top offers a disturbing view of the crash.

A Streetsblog op-ed from a San Francisco environmentalist and transportation rider says the city can’t afford to build safe streets so slowly, as peer cities like Austin, Texas show it can be done swiftly and cheaply. Maybe Los Angeles could take notes, too. 

 

National

Bike riders in Santa Fe, New Mexico are calling for safety changes and greater accountability after a man was killed riding his bike in June, and the driver who killed him walked with a deferred sentence.

The mayor of Cheyenne, Wyoming is about to become a former bike shop owner, after he announced the store will be closing after 35 years — leaving just one other bike shop in the state’s largest city.

A 21-year old autistic man from Billings, Montana got his stolen adaptive tricycle back after community outrage encouraged someone to drop it off at city hall.

Bike riders in Houston bared all for the World Naked Bike Ride, while accusing the city of backsliding on safety; some people did the same in Los Angeles, too.

A five-day bike ride is traveling 700 miles across Wisconsin to support military families and first responders, while focusing on children of fallen service members and disabled veterans.

The US Department of Transportation pulled a $675,000 grant to finish an Illinois bike trail, although grants for similar projects in red states Wyoming and Idaho appear to be moving forward.

Bicycling collisions reached an eight-year high in Michigan last year, with a 42% jump over 2021.

I want to be like him when I grow up. A 78-year old New Hampshire man is circumnavigating the state on his bike; he expects to finish in nine days, riding 70 miles a day. Must be a small state.

A DC food delivery worker traded her moped for an ebike in an attempt to appear less obtrusive to ICE agents.

This is the cost of traffic violence. A North Carolina police officer was killed in a traffic collision while ride a bike with his wife, less than a year after joining the force.

That’s more like it. A 30-year old Florida man with a long history of reckless driving and hit-and-runs was sentenced to 30 years behind bars for the high-speed hit-and-run crash that killed a 15-year old boy riding a bicycle; the car’s onboard computer shows he hit the kid at 75 mph without braking.

 

International

Road.cc takes a look at the very first Brompton foldie, on the company’s 50th anniversary.

London bicycle crashes spiked 44% last week as more than 2 million people took their bikes as a result of a strike by subway workers — although that jump amounted to just eight more crashes than usual.

After a British man restored a 1936 French bicycle, he’s riding it back to the home of the original owner to surprise them, while raising money to fight pancreatic cancer.

There’s a special place in hell for any driver who would leave someone in their 80s to die alone in the street, like this bike-riding 80-something Irishman killed by a hit-and-run driver.

A new survey shows 83% of Netherlanders support requiring bike helmets for young ebike riders, though it doesn’t say how young.

Officials in Seoul, South Korea are cracking down on brakeless fixies after the recent death of a teenage bike rider, well over a decade after the brakeless fixie panic in the US.

 

Competitive Cycling

As expected, Jonas Vingegaard won the Vuelta on Sunday, his first Vuelta win after two Tour de France titles; Portugal’s Joao Almeida was second, with Britain’s Tom Pidcock third; Pidcock called his first podium the biggest performance of his career.

However, the final Vuelta stage never completed, as organizers abandoned the stage with nearly 40 miles to go when up to 100,000 pro-Palestinian protesters flooded the streets — and that was after the stage was already shortened by 3.1 miles before the race in anticipation of the protests.

Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez praised the protesters, calling it a just cause.

The Pro-Palestinian protests extended to Canada’s Grand Prix Cycliste de Montreal, where 200 protesters gathered to protest the Israel-Premier Tech team, but didn’t interfere with the race itself.

Americans took three of the first four spots in the Grand Prix Cycliste de Montreal, with Brandon McNulty edging teammate Tadej Pogačar as they crossed the finish line together; Quinn Simmons was third and Neilson Powless fourth.

South African Alan Hatherly won the men’s world mountain bike championship on Sunday, despite a switch to road cycling for most of the year, and Sweden’s Jenny Rissveds won the women’s championship, in a return to the sport after she fell into severe depression and an eating disorder following her gold in the Rio Olympics.

 

Finally…

If you can’t find a sexy tandem, just learn to build your own. Who needs a little metallic trill when you could have your very own digital bike bell with eight distinct sounds?

And nope, nothing will ever get people to ride bikes.

………

Be safe, and stay healthy. And get vaccinated, already.

Oh, and fuck Putin. 

Rider on the swarm, the extended version — it’s been six years since the beachfront bees tried to kill me

This is what I looked like once I left the hospital — and trust me, you don't want to see the other side.

This is what I looked like once I left the hospital — and trust me, you don’t want to see the other side.

A bee flew across my path as I was riding Wednesday afternoon.

Normally, I wouldn’t give it a second thought. But it was just feet from where I encountered an enormous swarm of bees along the beach, leading to the worst wipeout of my riding career.

And today is the sixth anniversary of that crash.

I’ve told the story before. But as I read it again, I realize I left out a lot of details.

So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to set the news aside for a day to tell it once more, with feeling.

………

It was one of those perfect L.A. days. The kind people back east think we have everyday, and we hardly ever get in real life. I was just relaxing with an easy spin along the coast, when something zipped past my face. Then another…and another.

It didn’t take long to realize I’d run into a swarm of bees.

I was riding along the beach north of Santa Monica, on the beachfront bike path approaching Temescal Canyon.

By the time I realized what was happening, I was deep inside the biggest swarm of bees I’ve ever seen, or ever want to. A living, swirling mass at least 30 feet wide, filled with more bees than I could begin to estimate.

I had no way of knowing if they were angry or docile, and to be honest, I have no idea if I’m allergic to bees or not. But I figured this wasn’t the time to find out. So I just put my head down and pedaled as if my life depended on it. Because for all I knew, it did.

There had been several news stories in the weeks prior about Africanized bees attacking people, stinging them hundreds of times — sometimes fatally. For all I knew, that was what I’d encountered.

Thank God, it wasn’t.

As it turned out, they were docile. But I had no way of knowing that at the time.

I rode as hard as I could, finally emerging on the other side of the swarm after what must have been a few seconds, but seemed like an eternity as I watched bees bounce off my riding glasses.

Then just as fast, I came out on the other side, thinking that I’d made it out okay, when I looked down and saw that I was literally crawling with bees everywhere I could see. And I could only imagine what there was where I couldn’t see.

And then, nothing.

That’s not entirely true.

I remember looking down and seeing hundreds of bees on my arms, legs and chest. I could feel them crawling across my face, and recall reaching up to brush them off as one walked along the lens of my glasses.

What came next wasn’t the nothing I described, but the most profoundly spiritual experience of my life.

To be honest, I’m not ready to discuss just what I saw as I lay unconscious on the bike path. Chances are, I never will. It’s far too personal, and you probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.

But let’s just say there was a bright light, and someone there to meet me.

Yeah, I know. But still.

I came to with the most remarkable feeling of absolute peace. And confident in the knowledge that I was going to be okay.

Because that’s what I’d been told while I was out like a light.

The next thing I knew, a lifeguard was placing an oxygen mask over my face and asking if I knew where I was.

Fortunately, I’d picked a good place to land, just a few feet from the new county lifeguard headquarters next to Will Rogers State Beach, right where they used to film Baywatch. They’d found me unconscious, off my bike and laying flat on my face, and said I’d been out at least a couple minutes.

Just my luck.

After all those years of watching Baywatch in my youth, I found myself passed out on their former set. But instead of Pamela Anderson or Brooke Burns giving me mouth to mouth, I found a burley David Hasselhoff equivalent with an oxygen mask staring back down at me.

And remember watching him absentmindedly brush a bee off my chest.

The swarm was gone; in its place was a dozen or so spectators crowded around watching the lifeguards resuscitate me.

He said I’d been out for several minutes; maybe five, perhaps as long as 10.

When I tried to sit up, he gently pushed me back down. I argued that I was fine, and just wanted to get back on my bike and ride home. I could see my bike leaning against the door to the headquarters, though I couldn’t tell what kind of shape it was in.

Better than me, as it turned out.

Instead I was told that the paramedics were on their way, and I couldn’t leave until they checked me out. And the paramedics insisted I was going to the ER, whether I wanted to or not.

Which, in retrospect, probably saved my life.

It’s a unique feeling to ride in the back of an ambulance, strapped down to the gurney, watching the ceiling as they haul ass to the nearest hospital with sirens blaring.

And that’s when my wife called.

We have a long-standing habit, going back to when we first started dating, that she calls me every day on her lunch break. On the days she knows I’m riding, she’ll call my cell phone.

Except this time, the voice on the other end wasn’t mine.

One of the paramedics answered the phone. “Now don’t worry,” he said. “Your husband is going to be fine. But he’s been in an accident, and we’re talking him to the Emergency Room at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica.”

Needless to say, she worried.

I vaguely recall a flurry of activity when they rolled me into the ER. There was none of the usual waiting around for someone to see me; a doctor and a handful of nurses met the ambulance at the door and took me right into a room to check me out.

They started off checking cognitive function, looking for signs of brain damage. And probably thought they’d found it from the jokes that I kept cracking as they examined me.

But like I said, I knew I was going to be fine. So I was the only one in the room who wasn’t worried.

After a few minutes, my wife got there and they ushered her directly into the room.

And trust me, I don’t ever want to see that look on her face again.

Then it was off for the first of several CAT scans looking for brain damage, and MRIs looking for broken bones and internal injuries. Although, as it turned out, they missed one of those.

They found a bulging disk in my neck, and diagnosed a moderate traumatic brain injury, placed my left wrist and thumb in a splint, and finally, cleaned and bandaged my many cuts and scrapes.

It was about 7 pm, roughly 6-plus hours after my crash, when the ER doctor came into the room to discuss my injuries, and said they were going to send me home soon.

That’s when he saw it.

As I moved out from the blanket I’d been under for the past several hours, he happened to look down at my spandex riding shorts, and asked if I had something in my pocket. His smile went away completely when I told him bike shorts don’t have pockets.

What he’d found was a massive hematoma on my right hip, slowly filling with blood from a broken vein under the skin.

So much for going home.

Within hours, it had grown to the size of a football. And I went into shock twice from the loss of blood, my blood pressure crashing to as low as 56 over 38 while the ER staff scrambled to stabilize me.

So if I had gotten back on my bike to ride home, chances are, I might not have survived the night. Even if, by some miracle, I actually managed to get there. And if I hadn’t been wearing a helmet, I wouldn’t be writing this now.

The doctors explained I probably would have bled out if I’d tried riding home. Or died of a heart attack along the way.

And that’s if I didn’t pass out and fall off my bike, possibly causing further harm to my already damaged head or falling out into traffic.

Still, I was the only one in the room who wasn’t worried. Or in my wife’s case, scared shitless.

Then she was sent home, and I was off to the ICU.

Let me give you one word of advice.

If anyone even mentions the term urethral catheter in your presence, tell them you’d rather have them cut that part of your anatomy off, instead.

I’m serious.

A sleepless, and extremely unpleasant, night was followed by more CAT Scans, MRIs and repeated neurological exams the following day.

They sent me home with firm instructions not to leave the house for next two weeks, and no exercise — at all — for the remainder of the year.

The two weeks of home confinement was due to my brain injury, while the remainder was to give my body a chance to re-absorb the blood packed into my hip in order to avoid a transfusion.

Six years later, I still have scars on both knees, as well as one on my upper lip in the shape of a Hitler mustache when the light catches it right. And I have pain and swelling on my right hip, and probably always will, for reasons that have thus far defied the efforts of countless doctors and numerous medical exams to find an answer.

Let alone do something about it.

And I still have no idea what happened.

My injuries suggest that I must have fallen hard to one side, flipped or rolled over to hit the other side, and somehow ended up doing a face plant on the asphalt. But hey, your guess is as good as mine.

For all I know, Godzilla could have risen up out of the blue Pacific and slammed me down, before slinking off to ravage Tokyo once again. Though you’d think something like that would have made the local news, at least.

I’ve ridden past there hundreds of times. Each time trying to remember what happened after I tried to brush off those bees.

But there’s just nothing there.

Meanwhile, my extended recovery led to the realization that I’m closer to the end of my days than I am to the beginning. And that end could come at any time, in any way.

Which means that if I want to leave this world better than I found it, I have to do it now, in whatever time I have left.

Whether that’s another 30 days, or 30 years.

Oh, and the bees? Not one sting.

Go figure, huh?

………

I know I’ve said it before. But let me once again thank the LA County Lifeguards, the paramedics of LAFD Station 69 in Pacific Palisades, and the doctors and nurses of St. John’s Hospital, without whom this story could have had a much different ending.

And a special thanks to the folks at Beverly Hills Bike Shop — especially Chris K, now with the Santa Monica Helens — for fixing my bike following the crash. And at no charge, I might add.

I hope this attitude of gratitude never goes away.