Category Archives: Bicycle Safety

Mixed

All Over Albany shared a proposal to add to Madison Avenue a protected bicycle lane.  AOA is great blog deserving of its large readership, so big thanks, but lots of readers means lots of comments.  Comments are too often wipeouts that spoil an otherwise pleasant day in the surf.  Happily, not so bad this time.  These comments in large part make me proud of my neighbors (even as my comment reminds me to proofread more carefully).  Onward.

No offense to the good folks advocating for protected bike lanes, but I kinda sorta don’t want them.  The benefits are obvious, I’ll give you those, but for me they’ll be lost in a dark shadow cast by a billowing cloud of downsides.  Don’t see the clouds?  I always see the clouds.  I remember my mom calling me a worrier.  As in I worry too much.  She is right, but I don’t think I’ll stop.  I was born that way (and worries keep me safe).  Let me share some of my worries in the hope they will keep you safe.

Crazy pedalers.  Protected bike lanes encourage more pedalers to get out there.  Pedaling without instruction as to how to pedal in traffic, in protected lanes in particular, is crazy.  Sure, crazy pedalers are a risk only to themselves, pedestrians, dogs, squirrels and paint jobs, and they generally go slower than cars.  Maybe they know this, or some of this, and that’s why they feel entitled to blow off inconvenient laws.  Still.  Stop it!  You make us look bad.  I know motorists break as many laws and risks are higher with higher speeds, sizes and weights,  but for you and me, it is guilt by association.  You’re on my team and I expect more from you.  That, and I don’t want any of you, pedestrians, dogs, squirrels or paint jobs to get hurt.  Seriously.

Crazy pedalers may do fine in a protected lane, maybe better than outside of one, but crossing driveways and intersections will be a problem.  Intersections and driveways are where most accidents happen.  From memory, the biggest risk is the left hook (left turning motorist hits a pedaler going straight) and the second is the right hook (right turning motorist hits a pedaler going straight).  Collisions while being overtaken are way down the list.  Little comfort to the victim (or survivors) of a bad pass, but the point is protected lanes aren’t there for you during the most dangerous moments of your trip.  Look at a diagram of a protected bike lane and ask yourself what you mean to do at an intersection.  What crazy things do you think others will do?  Better still?  Before you pedal, take a bike safety class from a League of American Bicyclists approved instructor.  Please!

Crazy Motorists.  Even if new pedalers take bike safety classes before they start pedaling, motorists won’t.  That’s crazy!  How you will you ever learn that I am stopped in the left lane, your lane, signaling a left turn, because I am turning left (you know who you are, you Kia SUV owner who honked at me thirty minutes ago)?  Crazy motorists will find themselves on a road with new markings with nothing but guesses as to what the markings mean.   They’ll misinterpret the markings in six different ways.  Much like they misinterpret sharrows.  They’ll “wing it.”  Winging it for crazy drivers means looking ahead and maintaing speed.  Maybe even gunning it a bit (to get through the scary unknown a bit more quickly).  They’ve been driving for years and the worst thing that’ll happen to them is a little scratched paint.  They know because the papers tell them that you can hit a cyclist and, unless the lifeless cyclist lands on your vehicle and you drive around with their body there for an hour, you won’t even get a ticket.  Wows.  Or woes.

Even the most compassionate and well informed motorists may not see a bicyclist when turning.  Attention, vision and interpretation are imperfect at best.  Add a two way protected lane on one side of the road and now fast moving pedalers are coming from two directions when a motorist is trying to turn left or right across the path of the two way bike lane.  Even one way protected lanes have the left and right hook problems.  How’s that going to work?  Crazy motorists can’t figure out how to share nicely on our 101 level roads.  Protected bike lanes are master’s level set ups and I do not want to pedal through the learning curve.

[The news just said "the bar served him three double gin and tonics in an hour."  I wasn't otherwise listening, but my guess is the man with a big thirst for G&Ts got in a car and killed someone.  Six drinks in an hour?  Drinker:  If you must, that's home style drinking.  As in keep it in your home.  Bartender:  Be more careful when dispensing strong medicine!  Pedalers:  That's who we are pedaling amongst.]

A brief aside.  Education isn’t going to happen.  Neither pedalers or motorists.  I know that.  No one really cares and there isn’t money even if they did.  So how’s a pedaler to keep safe, protected lane or not?  I don’t trust any motorist to see me.  My safety is my obligation alone.  Twice I have said to myself “they see me” and both times I have been hit.  Once on a motorbike and once on a bicycle.  Still pedaling, worrying and knocking on wood.  Learn from my mistakes.  I don’t pass cars on the right at intersections and I generally take the lane at intersections.  Same whether traffic is stopped or moving.  I act like a car.  I wait in line and make it obvious that is what I am doing.  All to be visible and reduce the risks of left and right hooks.  Cars don’t need to know why I am doing it.  It just works.  An added benefit–motorists only have to pass me once.  Think about it.  If you pedal by on the right at red lights and stop signs, motorists have to pass you multiple times on a single stretch of road.  I feel ok expecting my neighbors to pass me safely once, and in return I don’t make them do it again.  Sharing and caring, you know?  Be the change you want to see (pretty sure Lagusta wrote that).

Experienced Pedalers.  Like I said, I feel safer when I know I am seen.  Love my helmet mirror.  I scoot out into traffic where the road is too narrow to share side by side, where motorists are more likely to see me.  They are forced to wait behind or change lanes to pass.  I scoot over as soon as I a safely can.  Or sooner if I see in my mirror that they are misbehaving.  Protected bike lanes will force pedalers to the very edge of the road, traveling behind parked vehicles (think like a pessimist and picture panel vans and tall trucks).  Pedalers will be way less visible.  It will be doubly important for pedalers to pause if not stop at intersections, despite a green light.  Motorists will need to do the same.  I will.  Will you?  What if your riding partner doesn’t?  If you worry, the increased risk means more slowing, even stopping, so a harder ride.  Accelerating is tough!  That’s why Idaho lets pedalers roll trough stop signs if it is clear.  Pedalers, both new and old, will be less likely to ride if they have to stop every block.  Too hard!  I ride on Madison instead of back streets because it is a through street giving me green lights through many intersections.  I can get somewhere with relative ease.  Pretty sure a protected bike lane will slow me down.  Others may go faster, or as fast, but that may be a mistake.  But maybe faster isn’t better.  It usually isn’t.  We’ll see.

My Hang Ups.  More personal, but maybe more important because it would come up for me on a daily basis.  Give me a facility and I form an expectation it be there.  I’ll get grumpy when it is not.  Build a protected lane and people will park on it.  Potholes, debris and snow plowed to the side will make it unpassable.  I won’t curse the snow (truth be told I probably won’t be pedaling much in it), but I will curse the parked vehicles and the poor maintenance.  It’s like the nifty new stop signs in front of our local park.  As soon as they put them up, my blood started boiling as 95% of motorists roll through the signs.  Some without braking.  The motorists were, still are, obligated to yield to pedestrians in the crosswalk.  They didn’t and it made me a little mad.  But rolling through the stop sign was too much!  The nerve!  What about the shiny new signs?

Universal Balance.  You win some, you lose some.  Give us a protected bike lane and something has to take the place on the other side of the scale.  Something bad.  Example?  A car is parked on my protected bike lane.  Anger arises.   I leave the lane to continue on my way.  Then a car hollers at me to get in the protected lane.  Or maybe an officer gives me a ticket for not using a bike facility.  Pump up the anger.  Am I alone on this one?  I believe it and fully expect it will happen to me on my first ride on a protected bike lane.  I fail in this way most every day.  It sometimes ruins a bike ride.  Sad.

Isolation.  I save this to last because it is kind of BS.  All it takes is a little patience.  But still.  Even if you like protected lanes, one protected lane blows.  The roll out would be gradual.  As in ten years or more.  Money is tight and politicians like to be careful.  Still, how many times is a new biker going to have a trip starting and finishing on the segment of Madison Avenue with the lane?  About as often as I am able to enjoy Albany’s sole bike lane on Clinton Ave.  When new pedalers leave the lane to go to the co-op or the Spectrum Theater, how’s that going to go?  It makes me really nervous (for them, dogs, etc.).  Why can’t we have an elevated habitrail for pedalers built overnight.  Tonight would be nice.

One thousand seven hundred forty-eight words.  Time to go!

Some Things

Pedaled to Daily Grind for coffee beans.  As I passed my local cop shop, traveling over fresh new pavement adorned with blinding white sharrows in the middle of the lane, with officers getting into cars and what not, a dude in a Cadillac pick up honked at me.  Wanted me to get over.  Wasn’t safe, so I didn’t.  He honked again.  I didn’t.  Then the parked cars were no longer and I pulled over to let him pass, which he did.  I pedaled the next block smelling the stank from his stogie and storing away the experience.  Tossed it in a big pile of similar ones under which I have placed a cardboard sign that says “Laws Don’t Mean Shit.”  Not when people don’t know them.  Not when the police don’t enforce them.  They are just there, raising our expectations for a very brief moment until we pedal in the real world and find we’re all basically alone (Andrew Bird–Imitosis).

Got a mediocre falafel at a new to me falafel hole on Lark.  Guy said he’d been open for two years.  Huh.  It came with tzatziki sauce (yogurt).  Huh.  I need to get out more.  I forget that some folks make falafel with yogurt (rather than tahini).  Didn’t have the energy to talk to him about it.  Next time I will just go to Hot Dog Heaven and have them fry me up a Field Roast dog (hope that train is still running).  Got my beans and crossed the street to Fuzz Records.  Bought Dum Dum Girls’–Only in Dreams.  Surfy goodness is punching out of the hifi now.  Pedaled home.  A block before the cop shop I got two more honks to pull over.  Didn’t until it was safe, then they passed.  On the block of the cop shop a car passed me within a foot.  I pulled up next to the driver at the light and asked her to leave three feet when she passes.  I said it was the law.  She said she didn’t know that was the law.  I said now you do.  That was that.

All very cool, but golly it would be nice if the city ran a PSA with a few helpful tips.  Something like learn then follow the ef’ing law a-holes.  I’ve been doing great ignoring losers but when they accrue on a short ride, my deputy dog badge starts a tinglin’ right through my vest pocket. I sometimes can’t help myself.  I interact.  Don’t want to, but there I am doing just that.  Gotta cut those puppet strings.  Anyone have some comically big scissors?

Parts & Labor are still making me smile.  Just watched them cover Kanye’s Runaway.  I stopped the video half way through to check out Kanye’s work.  I hadn’t heard the song.  Glad I did.  Muy pleasant, and fits with my sort of cross mood courtesy of my motoring neighbors.

Part’s & Labor’s version:

Part’s & Labor killed it, don’t you think?

Have a swell weekend, folks.

 

 

Wasted Ones and Zeros

Helmet or no?  You decide.  If you’d enjoy something in writing to make you feel better about your choice to ride without, here you go!  If you’d enjoy something in writing to make you feel better about your choice to ride with, here you go:

I am happy to be part of a pedaling minority, but I am generally unwilling to be among the group of Americans saying no to helmets (although I may occasionally ride helmetless around the block when and if the mood strikes).  I understand that some consider it to be a chicken and egg issue–that I should skip my helmet so that others would feel better about the idea of pedaling to the point they’d do some themselves–but I am too big of a chicken to ride with an unprotected egg.  Although the protection afforded by bicycle helmets is negligible (when compared to helmets used in motorsport), I feel better with a little something something up top.  Always have (I wore a Bell Biker as a kid at a time when few were bothering).  It is just the way I am wired.

In support of my reticence to skip a lid, I turn the issue around.  Instead of making cycling look safer by pedaling without a helmet (where my bare head would be a bit player in a theater production largely for the benefit of others), I’d rather overlook the implication of danger that arises with helmet use (where my self-deception benefits me directly–my kind of theater).  The same way I accept motoring in vehicles with seat belts and airbags, I happily pedal with a helmet in a country of mostly helmeted riders–perceived danger be damned!  Selfish, but I am ok with that in this context.

I am not certain there is a causal connection between shedding lids and increased riding and increased safety.  Could be a coincidence.   My guess is the real causes for the different experiences among countries are more complicated.  It is possible that some countries have higher pedaling rates and lower injury rates because their citizens are simply better motorists and pedalers than are we.  That might have something to do with better education of motorists and pedalers.  Might have something to do with road design.  Might have something to do with tough laws and judges placing blame on motorists when warranted.  Might have something to do with a greater respect for life.  Who knows, really, but to explain our different experience by pointing to a preference for helmet use is a cop out.  Or at least an over simplification.  Instead of placing the blame for our abysmal cycling rates on a piece of molded plastic, take full responsibility for the welfare of all by driving even more safely and politely and pedaling even more skillfully and politely and, if you prefer, keep a bucket on your coconut.

I was just in Arizona were I am always surprised to see all the helmetless motorbikers.  Do motorbikers in the rest of the country wear helmets only because they are told to do so?  Unlike flimsy bicycle helmets, motorbike helmets can be very protective.  If I still motorbiked and found myself in Arizona, I might ride helmetless three times a year, same as I do on my bicycle.  Just for fun.  But I’d wear a full face helmet 99% of the time.  Even when not in the midst of crashing, the visor would protect my eyes and the enclosure would protect my hearing.  I appreciated these conveniences on every ride.  Similarly, I enjoy my bicycle helmet even when I am not flying through the air–my helmet, without fail, remembers to bring along my lights and mirror (they are zip tied in place).  I’d rather dork out my helmet than my beautiful bicycles.  At least the bicycle gets to look cool when I step away from it.

Again, do what you want (unless you are Lacey).  Lacey:  I can’t let you pick good hair over the contented feeling I get knowing that if a careless or mean motorist hits you just so, and you land just so, your helmet may make a positive difference.  Selfish, but again I will forgive myself in this context.  Does it help to know that I don’t think your helmet messes up your hair?  Probably not.  I’ve been married long enough to know when it is time to put down the shovel.

Stepping away from the shovel!

Heavy Mood

Postal carrier delivered this to me (as I was in the yard cutting back and digging out surplus hostas).  

I am a sucker for colored vinyl.  Love it almost as much as I love Tilly and the Wall.  Their new album, Heavy Mood, is muy bueno.  Writing very good in spanish is as close as I am going to get to writing an interesting review.  I am seriously tired from digging hostas.  Deal with it (or just trust me and buy the LP).  By the way, the LP is a single color.  The mottling is the result of my squishing down the file size to save space.

On Sunday Lacey and I pedaled to the Spectrum to see The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time.  Staged by the National Theater in London.  We were watching a recording of a live performance at a movie theater.  What a world we live in!  Such a good play.  Impressive use of dance and technology to relate the goings on in a mind on Asperger syndrome.  See it if you get the chance.

On the way home a car honked at Lacey or me–I can’t remember.  It was just a honk.  Nothing more.  Who cares?  Apparently I did.  Although I’ve been consistently ignoring misbehaving motorists as I pedal, something snapped this time.  I didn’t say or do anything ridiculous, but my insides were on fire and my face was probably a few degrees short of pokerish.  Maybe I am only getting better at controlling my emotions when pedaling alone.  Exhibit anything other than caution and respect in the presence of my dearest Lacey and things can get ugly.  It was good that the front seat passenger rolled down her window and apologized twenty ways to Sunday, but I have more work to do.

Today Frida stopped and stared at a white Honda Civic.  Not quite a Fit, but there is a strong family resemblance.  Just like she used to stop and stare at Beetles, but  this was the first time she exhibited a recognition that small white Hondas might give up a Lacey if stared at long enough.  Didn’t work this time, but it was cute as all get out.

That’s enough for now.  Hope you are well.

Speed Matters

Sounds like New York City gets it.  The following stats were especially eye opening:

…a pedestrian hit by a car going 40 m.p.h. had only a 30 percent chance to survive. Those struck by a car at 30 m.p.h., she said, survive 80 percent of the time. At 20 m.p.h., the figure climbs to about 95 percent.

Drive?  Then you, too, can kill.

Don’t wait until you hit someone to accept that (a) going slower increases the time you have to see other road users and to process what you see and (b) slowing reduces the danger you present to other road users if you don’t see them.  Few things in life are that sure and that easy.

Do you really need to get where you are going a few minutes early?  Is my life less important than you getting to work on time?   It was roughly noon and sunny both times I was hit.  In both incidents the motorists said they didn’t see me, but because they were going well under 20 (they were both starting from a stop just before they hit me), I didn’t suffer as much as a bruise.  OK, one of the two times I was on a motorbike and was wearing a full protective suit with armor covering my back, elbows, knees and shoulders and a full face helmet, but I was going 30 and could have been messed up if the driver was going faster.  The second incident was on my bike, and I had just a helmet, shorts and a tee shirt.  Still, not a bruise.

Last weekend Lacey and I pedaled downtown for burritos.  In the short ride, we had two close passes by vehicles exceeding the 30 mph speed limit.  The first was a cab.  I was angry but held it in.  The second was a big SUV.  I screamed something–Hey!, I think.  He stopped at the next light.  I stopped well behind him.  He asked out his window what he had done.  I said he passed too close.  He said sorry and sounded sincere.  I said sorry, too (I hadn’t done anything wrong and wasn’t sorry in the moment for using my mouth as a horn, but I am programmed to apologize).  That was about the best outcome one could hope for.

One reasonable exchange shouldn’t make the rule.  More often than not these on-road education sessions go nowhere or worse.  Some people are hard to reach.  These may be the folks who drink and drive, drive and text, speed through construction sites and don’t change lanes to give room to officers who’ve pulled someone over.  All illegal and the laws are highly publicized, but the laws are too often ignored and tickets are rarely issued.   Seems like murderers will sooner get the death penalty than a driver’s license will be suspended.  I have given up trying to understand it.  Instead, I will do my best to not make things worse.  Not convert a kind motorist into an angry one.  I will ride predictably and within the law.  I will take the lane only as long as I need it to be safe.  When I am slighted I will try to pretend I am in a car bubble and say not a thing.  Just move on.  I am learning that the only person I can hope to control is me so that’s where I will direct my energies.

It isn’t easy, though.  Anger accretes.  In the case of the two close passes on our burrito run, there was zero traffic in the oncoming lane–we were on a complete ghost road–such that the close passers had no reason to pass within three feet of Lacey and I.  The two drivers opted to buzz us as they passed.  That bugs me more than anything.  When I want to be really upset (and truly I never do),  I remember that all close passes are optional and illegal.  Passers can and should, are required by law, to always wait to pass until the pass can be executed with at least three feet of space.  Why not more than three feet, just to be safe?    These things that go through my head after most every close pass.  The second close pass in a couple of blocks on an empty road can be just too much.  I have more work to do.

That’s enough of that.

Forward Fast

It was here that I wrote about the New York Manual of Uniform Traffic Control Devices and, specifically, the elimination of my favorite sign–Bicycles May Use Full Lane.  I don’t know that the sign has been added back to the manual, but I was invited to comment on a policy regarding sharrows advanced by the New York State Department of Transportation and the policy suggests the signs may come back in one form or another.  The NYDOT wanted input on four proposed signs.  Each is placed under a yellow diamond sign depicting a bicycle.  A:  “May Use Full Lane.”  B:  “Using Full Lane.”  C:  “Using Lane.”  D:  “In Lane.”  I still think A is the right way to go and said so.  A beats B only because A is more familiar.  Otherwise B is a tie.  C and D–not so good.  When the word “full” is omitted, it isn’t clear that bicyclists can leave the right side of the lane.  The policy also directs sharrows to be placed way out in the lane–very nice.  Finally, the policy discusses sharing in more detail than usual.  “Share the lane” is about as far as anyone thinks it through, but you know I like to break it down into two distinct kinds of sharing–side by side sharing for wide lanes and one after the other sharing when lanes are narrow.  I am impressed with the efforts from the NYDOT and look forward to more good work in the future.  Three cheers!

Deep Breaths

Long time!  I’ve been here and I trust you’ve been there.  Work is the dominant theme in my life and about that I don’t care to share more.

Scrabble with the men’s group last night.  I left between the two games.  I tried to leave with grace but I was pretty upset.  One member wants to limit conversation so that he can concentrate.  Me, I’d rather talk than play.  I accept his reminders and acquiesce, but last night I stewed.  Rather than stew through game two, I went home to Lacey.  That felt great.  This morning I wrote him a note to explain my feelings and got a most wonderful reply.  Sometimes communication works.

Pedaled the Rivendell Road to a FedEx drop box to send a package for work.  Saving twenty minutes by driving is in no way better than getting a few lungfuls of air.  I was in a marked bicycle lane (about where the northwest bound red car is in the image below) and a car passing on my right honked as they passed.  It is a stupid narrow bicycle lane and the lanes to the left and right are narrow too.  I am sure it complies with zero traffic design criteria.  It is always a bit of a pucker moment as cars race by (at 45) on my left and right as I pedal the tightrope bicycle lane.  So the honking.  If you pedal, you know how scary this can be.  This time my heart jumped into my throat and I replied HEY, but that’s not the end of the world.  Still.  If you want to be mean, honk.  Very effective way to increase anger.  If, on the other hand, you are scared that you are going to hit a bicyclist, don’t honk.  Slow and follow at a safe distance until it is safe and not scary to pass.  Please?

Just walked Frida.  Lovely weather just now.  I say hi to most everyone I pass.  Somedays I get no replies and feel invisible and sad.  Today everyone replied cheerfully and it felt great.  Give out hellos, folks.  They are a free and unlimited resource.  If you don’t want to initiate the exchange, at least participate in it when invited.  You’ll be doing someone a big favor.

Stopped in the drive of my new friend and had a cry with him.  His wife died recently and we talk about it most every time we see one another.  Today he shared his regret for sitting at the end of the bed as his wife passed.  He wishes he would have been laying next to her, holding her, in her last moments.  My poor, poor friend.  So happy to be able to cry with him.

If you know me, you know to what I am referring when I use the term the house that got away.  It is for sale again and I talked to the owners in the driveway.  I am sad to report it sounds like they took a lot of the good out of it.  The average joe will probably love it, but for me it was the time capsule nature that made it all good.  We might go have a look at it this weekend, just to be sure.  I would be shocked if we made a move within the same city, but looking is fun.  Full report to follow.

Lunch time.  Have a great weekend.