there's a bike lane on 16th

So. I was riding my bike.

A small portion of my commute home, I do on 17th Ave.

There are alternatives to 17th, and I have investigated or used each of them:

1. 16th Ave is one block south and it technically has a bike lane. But in actuality, that lane is packed uncomfortably tight between traffic and parked cars, and, part of the year, is underneath snow and muck, and is altogether an unsafe and unpleasant cycling experience. I actively avoid 16th Ave. What I'm saying is, I don't like it.²
2. 19th Ave is two blocks north, and used to be my go-to. Loved it. Nice wide lanes. Good lights. You know how some roads are just kind of faster than others? This was a zippy road. But as you get closer to Downing, the road goes to hell. Potholes, torn up asphalt, cracks in the road, and general nastiness. Riding it eventually just felt unsafe, like I was going to bounce my panniers right off my rack or something.

My point is that I know what my options are, because I consult google, and bike maps, and I've ridden most roads in Denver. Several, several times. I'm a careful, deliberate, mindful, and intentional cyclist.

Which means that when a pickup truck buzzed me about halfway along that six block stretch of 17th, and the driver yelled out the window, "BIKE LANE ON 16TH," I felt angrier than I believe I would have if he'd given me a simple "GET OFF THE ROAD."

Whatever the latter is--blind discrimination? Utter ignorance? Indiscriminate hostility? Mental illness?--I'd almost rather have that. I can compartmentalize and dismiss an encounter if I can say, "Oh. Well. That guy's crazy." Or dumb. Or for whatever reason not a rational, reasonable person right now. That, I can let go, like water off a duck's back, ya know?¹

But, man, don't go making some kind of qualitative assessment about where I'm riding. Like you know me. (Also, don't pass me that closely. Jeez. You know that 3 feet to pass rule? You know a cyclist made that rule up because within three feet, I for one can reach out and punch a car that I'm angry at, and that's a terrible thing to actually do because it's guaranteed to escalate things, but I've done it.)

Anyway, I found that was an interesting way to feel, and it allowed me the following reflections.

1. I also judge people for riding in places that I deem inappropriate. And I'm not talking about, like, on sidewalks, or against traffic on a one-way road. Because those things are wrong, and it's not a subjective judgement call. It's an objective You're Doing It Wrong call and a You're Endangering Yourself and Those Around You call. I mean, on roads that I simply have an attitude about people riding on. 18th. Colfax, Broadway. Colorado. So if I've judged you for doing what I did, then I apologize.
2. Also, I continue to be afraid that my anger is misplaced or inappropriate because maybe that dude was simply trying to be friendly and helpful, as though I didn't know my way around and was in need of some helpful tips. In which case, I apologize to you too, shouty truck man. But, also, don't yell out your window at cyclists.³ Or pass that closely. But thanks for your concern.

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1 holy cow, folks. That song was by the incomparable Chris Smither. Haven't heard it since forever. Listen to the entire album, Train Home here.^↩
2 I don't wike it!^↩
3 Once upon a time, my Mel thought it would be a kind, friendly gesture to honk politely at me when I was on my bike, pulling up to the restaurant at which we were to meet. Thought I was going to die. Like all cyclists do when a car immediately behind them honks at them.
She doesn't do that anymore.↩

a mean right hook

Part I

My daily commute almost always takes me along this small portion of 16th Ave on my way to cutting across Civic Center park.



It’s a weird block because, as you can see, there is a bike lane and sharrows side-by-side on the road, coexisting happily, naturally as you please, as though this weren't an utter abomination.

What you cannot see in this picture is that one block back, there is a sign that says BIKE LANE ENDS.

That’s why the sharrows are there. The bike lane is a Shouldn't Be. And yet it persists. Cyclists are supposed to take the lane as the signage and the sharrows imply. And yet. That bike lane.

In direct contradiction of the signage, confoundingly, frustratingly, incomprehensibly, the bike lane doesn’t end at all. Like the cake, the end of the bike lane is a lie. It just stubbornly continues to exist. It hangs around like an unwelcome guest.

So this block is unique in that respect. Also of note is the vehicular traffic at this particular intersection. Coming from this direction, cars cannot go straight. (That direction is reserved for bikes and bus traffic.) The crossroad traffic is one-way, from the left to the right. The only thing a car can do is turn right.



You can see in the picture above the almost gravitational pull to the right that motorists experience. They want nothing but to turn right. Seriously, 100% of the cars here are turning right. And so, a cyclist camped out at the front of this Shouldn't-Be, Why-Is-It-Still-Here? bike lane is preventing the cars from proceeding.

This is doing it the wrong way. If you're on a bike in the bike lane here, you are doing it wrong, and are practically inviting the right hook.

Contrariwise, a cyclist positioned respectfully in the middle of the traffic lane, over the sharrows, creates enough space to the right of him for cars to continue on their merry way. This is doing it the right way.

99% of the cyclists I see at this intersection do it wrong.

99% of the cyclists at this intersection are both blocking traffic and putting themselves in danger.

One day I should say something to one of that 99%. (I'm an assertive rider, an angry blogger, but a timid person face-to-face.)

Part II

On 16th Ave, several blocks west of the intersection described in Part I. 

A couple of B-Cycle Bozos are tootling down the road in the bike lane. They, and me, and a car all come to a stop at a light.

The car has its right turn signal on. I'm right behind it. (Not in the bike lane because I'm turning left here.) I observe the bozos not observing the car to their immediate left.

The light turns green and the bozos are gabbing and gossiping, not paying attention, and not moving.

The car inches out and creeps forward. The bozos don't move, still gabbing.

The car honks its horn a few times to announce its presence and continues across the path of the bozos, executing a right-hand turn. The bozos never move. They don't even look up.

Those cyclists were oblivious to the other vehicles around them. That motorist was very aware of the bikes around it.

I think that was the most respectful right hook I've seen, and I can't think of a way I'd have done it better.

Good on ya, car.

Get your heads outta your asses, bike bozos.

Conclusion

Cyclists, myself included, rave about the treacherous right hook, about how they're avoidable if only cars would pay attention and be mindful of their surroundings.

But many times these situations are created by cyclists themselves through incorrect lane positioning, not paying attention, and dallying in bike lanes.

Freebie Bottles and Lanes on 16th Ave

I got a new water bottle from the Census Bureau!



It doesn't look nearly as good as the blue on blue, but that old bottle is ... old. And getting kinda beat up. I might go back to carrying it just for aesthetics, but for now I'm glad to add a little more political content to my bike.

"I ride a bike and I count."

Plus, this continues my life long streak of having never bought a (bicycle) water bottle.

I got the bottle at a meeting in downtown Denver, a meeting after which I had to ride back to where I work. So I hopped on the E/W leg of the Teenybopper Mallrat Route, and soon fell in alongside this other biker. We started chatting, and as we approached an intersection a car pulled up to the stop sign at our left and came to a full stop. The driver looked at us, and then started to proceed through the intersection while we were in the middle of it.

I hollered and the car stopped, while my new cycling partner pointed angrily to the driver's stop sign.

That gave us plenty to talk about until we parted ways a few blocks later.

"What a bozo!"

"I thought he saw us, but I guess he didn't!"

"It's like, I'm amazed I haven't been hit yet, you know?"

I recall several friends of mine saying they've almost been hit along that same stretch of 16th Avenue. It may have something to do with the fact that the bike lane there doesn't resemble a bike lane as much as it does a shoulder in need of some patching over.


click through for street view

It just doesn't look like a bike lane. It looks like a wide shoulder, or like street parking. I'm not surprised that a lot of cars don't think to look for cyclists.

I found myself riding outside the bike lane and in the traffic lane during the remainder of my time on this street.

Compare that to the bike lane on Montview, which I got to ride on during another leg of my ride.


click through for street view

That looks like a bike lane. At least, it's recognizable to motorists, and doesn't look simply like a wide shoulder.

16th Avenue probably needs a bit of a touch up to its lane markers. As it is, bicyclists aren't as visible as they could be. Until then, I'll probably just continue to eschew the bike lane and utilize the traffic lane.

=-=-=-=

Edit:

Consider further the new DC bike lanes! Holy cow!

Route profile: 16th Street/Avenue

16th Street Mall and 16th Avenue are collectively known as the Teenybopper Mallrat Route.



One of Denver's stranger bike routes, notable for running along the spine of the city, but at the same time not really taking you anywhere.

Access to the mall is limited to one day out of the week; and 16th Avenue has a bike lane but is not part of the Grid, and eventually comes to an abrupt stop after a couple blocks.

The route starts at one end of the city at the northwest end of the 16th Street Mall, either at Union Station or at National Velvet.



Now, unless it's Sunday, you cannot ride on the 16th Street Mall. This is one of bikedenver.org's Big Four rules, right up there with No Riding On The Sidewalk. Bike here 85.7% of the time, and you'll get a ticket.

On Sunday though, you can cruise right down the middle of the road. It's an interesting 1.5 mile ride that's not without its own unique joys and frustrations.

At the southeast end of the mall, your route crosses Broadway and becomes E 16th Avenue.

16th Avenue is not listed on the City of Denver bike map as a "grid" route, or even as a local bike route, but simply as a "road with a bike lane."

So even the city recognizes that it's kind of special.

Personally, I have a tendency to forget about 16th Ave until I cross it coming from the north or the south, and I see a bike lane, and I think to myself, "Oh! An E/W bike lane! I need to go east … might as well use this convenient bit of infrastructure!"

So I turn onto 16th and cruise along, slowly progressing through the the stop signs that litter the route, until suddenly it dead ends at East High School.



Near the school, there is suddenly eleven or eight fleets worth of cars parked on the street, and there are always—regardless of the time day, morning or afternoon—handfuls of kids milling about outside.

Enough to make you want to point out to them that there's no such thing as education by proxy. Being at the school doesn't count. You gotta, you know, go inside and learn stuff.

Anyway, so suddenly you dead-end at the high school. You options for continuing are, to the south, Colfax Ave; and to the north, 17th Ave.

Neither of these streets are safe to bike on.

That leaves you the option of, to the north, continuing past 17th into and through City Park or, to the south, riding on the sidewalk on Colfax for one block before cutting back up to a safe side street.

Of these options, one is illegal (sidewalk-ridin') and one is inconvenient (the winding route through City Park takes you out of your way.)

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So this route is interesting. It takes you from East High School to the far end of 16th Street Mall, and not really anywhere else.

But in doing so, you get really close to the real heart of the city.

Just off this route is City Park, Civic Center Park, the Central Library. Cheeseman Park is a short ride to the south. It runs parallel to all the wondrous crap on Colfax and it runs right through all the wondrous crap on the 16th Street Mall, including Skyline park. At the northwest end, you can get on the S. Platte River trail just north of the confluence with the Cherry Creek trail.

So from a wider perspective, I suppose it's quite a well connected hub.

But since all it literally does is connect a high school to a strip mall, I shall henceforth call this the Teenybopper Mallrat Route.