Bikes are cool

Bikes are cool, aren't they? 😎

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.

---

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.

bikes make for agile first responders

Nothing makes for an extra vigilant ride home like seeing a taxi mow down a pedestrian :( #ridereport
— Chrisman Brown (@chrismanbrown) May 17, 2014

So I was riding my bike.

I stopped at a red light, a block from the library, behind a taxi cab.

The lights ahead of us turned green. The cab hesitated a moment, and then started crawling forward, the kind of particular combination of response time and slow acceleration that can indicate a driver being on their phone, or fiddling with their GPS.

But that's not fair. I don't know what the driver was doing.

I do know that he was turning left, from one one-way street to another one-way street. I had expected this because he had had his turn signal on while we were stopped.

I had also expected, based on the slow speed at which he was cruising through the intersection, that he saw the pedestrian in the crosswalk directly in his trajectory.

I was half able to form a "I hope he sees--" thought before the cab continued sailing right through and under the man, who thud rolled up onto the hood, curling his arms and legs into his body so that he looked like a beetle on its back, then stopped just short of the windshield before rolling off to the passenger side of the car and onto the road.

The cab took a moment to pull over and park, and I was at the man's side and calling 911 as the driver was getting out of the car.

The dispatcher asked me dispatcher questions, in answer to which I struggled for an embarrassingly long time (Seconds, probably. Hopefully.) to figure out whether I was on 13th or 14th, and then to understand that I hadn't even then communicated that I wasn't at an address but was outside. "We're in the middle of the street!"

The driver moped around ineffectively. The victim was awake, with no obvious injuries. Breathing, looking around, talking, and doing people things despite--good for him--having moved not one inch since settling onto the ground.

Traffic had cycled once, and I was positioning myself while still on the phone to obstruct the lane so cars would go around when two beat cops showed. Probably three or four minutes had elapsed.

One of the cops addressed the victim and the other addressed traffic. I disconnected with 911 and gave a statement, first verbally then written, to the cop who was now addressing me.

The ambulance arrived promptly, and things proceeded business-like.

The victim continued to appear just fine and the driver just distraught.

He certainly wasn't getting any sympathy from anybody, and was in fact admonished by at least one motorist as she drove by, rolling down her window and telling him he, "needs to be careful!" (I did note the absurdity in that while she was delivering this scolding, she was in the very same crosswalk and her eyes were on us, not the road.)

I was eventually gathering myself up to leave and saw him by standing by himself, leaning against his car, hands on his face. He looked alone and miserable, and I decided to offer him some comfort if he'd have it.

I offered my hand and he took it in both of his. I asked him if he was okay, and told him I was sorry that this had happened. He kind of shrug-nodded and said, "It happened." I gave him another couple seconds, and then left.

I still can't decipher his response. I don't think that, as it may appear, that he meant, "Hey, shit happens. If you're gonna drive an omelette, you're gonna run over a few eggs." Rather, I hope that it's not taken as an inevitability that cabbies are going to hit people, other cars, or other things. I think that instead he was trying to accept what he had just done, and was grappling with what comes next. Which is something for which I have no frame of reference. Can you even still drive a taxi after hitting somebody? Did this guy just lose his job?

In the end, I don't know what he meant, or what became of him or the victim.

The rest of the way home, though, I knew for damn sure exactly where each and every car around me was.

Danny Macaskill - Industrial Revolutions

After seeing this video on several bike blogs today, I finally gave in and watched it.

Treat yourself to this.

Cheers!

Seen on my bike:

In the road, one upright and empty champaign bottle, next to two empty plastic Starbucks cups.

Communication

Preface!

Part One!

This post, as many of them do, started as a comment on another blog. This particular one was in response to a post by my Internet Friend in Akron, Ohio. Hi, CG!

Part Two!

I've been hacking away at this post for most of the afternoon. (With breaks, naturally. I've had lunch and taken a nap and stuff.) But for the most part, it's a sprawling monstrosity. I'm not going to edit it or make it more concise. I'm just going to allow this to be a sounding off.

Part Three!

My own "shame on you" on-bike communication tools consist of "No!" shaking my head, like the author in the linked post did, and in some situations giving a head-shake/thumbs-down combo. I like to think this combination renders a motorist helpless with guilt.

Communication!

Miscommunication causes the majority of problems that occur person-to-person.

(Actually, all the world's problems result from the fact that there are too many people. But accepting that that is an inevitability, let us continue.)

Humans are expressive, communicative creatures. We communicate so hard. So hard! We speak words, and we assume certain contextual postures and stances while speaking them that also convey messages, and we adopt certain inflections and vocabularies while speaking that add extra layers of meaning to our original message, and our facial expressions—on top of already established body language—can add yet another layer of complexity. And we won't even get into layers of meaning one can achieve though sarcasm, metaphor, mixed words, and other read-between-the-lines stuff.

Point being, communication! Wow, we do it so hard! In so many complicated ways!

Driving in a car makes you inhuman!

The vast majority of vehicular humans are deprived this most essential tie to humanity. Anybody operating a motorized vehicle is experiencing their surroundings—and their fellow human beings—at such velocity, and in such an enclosed—dare I say "caged off?"—environment that they are rendered inexpressive, incommunicative, and perhaps inhuman.

(Tom Vanderbilt writes on this to great effect in his book, Traffic, which I recommend so hard. Even if you just skim through it, there will be much gleaning.)

In a car, you are denied words, eye contact, and body language. You are essentially limited to two forms of expression: turn signals (which are ridiculously lame forms of expression) and horn-honking (which is a hopelessly vague and, sadly, an intrinsically aggressive form of communication).

You can't see your fellow motorist through their suit of car armor. What you can see is usually the rear end of the car in front of you. It is ridiculous. It is dehumanizing. It is infuriating. It is provocative.

It makes you a monster.

It makes you a person who might call a fellow citizen of the road a dirty whore even if that's something wildly out of character for you. It might be something you'd never dream of doing face to face with a person with whom you might enjoy other, more civil, means of communication.

But in a car, you are rendered dumb. You don't have the luxury of other, more humane and civil avenues of communications.

So you end up screaming "Dirty whore" at people.

Because you are left with few alternatives as far as communication goes.

Bullying!

The Internet in general, and Youtube specifically in my experience, is notorious for allowing—perhaps encouraging?—bullying.

Randall Monroe, one of my favorite Internet Culture commentators, once commentated—to great success—on the hateful YouTube comment phenomenon.

In my mind, there is little difference between the false anonymity granted to you as an Internet user and the false anonymity granted to you as a vehicular citizen of the road.

In both scopes, bullying is intolerable, and I will call you out on it.

In both scopes, your anonymity is a false construction.

There have been stories in my local newspaper about cops who have lost their jobs for posting "anonymous" hateful/bigoted comments on local sites. And, in my workplace, when I am considering interviewing applicants, I google your ass.

Internet anonymity isn't what you thought it was.

There have been stories in my feeds about drivers who have been rightfully damned and condemned for plowing into cyclists.

Vehicular anonymity isn't what you thought it was, either.

In Closing

Don't be a dick.

Anywhere.

In your car? On the Internet? Seriously, anywhere? Don't be a dick.

Because anonymity is a falsehood.

You are responsible for your actions. There will be consequences for your actions.

Thumbs Up for Rock and Roll!

Rain ninja

It's raining in Denver. Has been for over 24 hours now.

Point being, it's gray and cloudy and wet outside, and visibility is low.

On the way home from driving my partner to work just now, I stopped at an intersection near my house. I had a stop sign and cross traffic did not. I looked each way twice before proceeding, and one more each way as I entered the intersection.

And as I started to clear the intersection, I saw a cyclist pass close by, right behind me, looking at me disapprovingly. I apparently had come close to cutting her off.

I am hyper-aware of cyclists, so I was surprised that I had carefully surveyed the area and had flat out, straight up not seen this one.

She was on an upright bike, probably a cruiser, wrapped up in a large black wool coat, covering herself with a gray umbrella. (If you imagine riding a bike in the rain, you'll realize that you need to hold the umbrella more or less in front of you—blocking your face and covering your head—in order to utilize it.)

No lights. Perfect ninja.

Even with her dark attire, and even hiding behind an umbrella, I might have seen her had she had lights on her bike.

Which is why my bike lights and my automobile lights are on, day and night. There's no reason to ever not have your lights on. All they do is make you more well seen. All they do is increase your chances of not getting hit.

Opposing View Points: Tinted Windows

In favor: I love tinted windows! I'm a big fat jerk!	Opposed: Tinted window suck. I do not like them on parked cars because I can't see if someone is in there about to open their door and flingsmash me. I do not like them on cars in intersections because I don't know if the driver is looking at me or waving me through.
Where do I stand? I am not a big fat jerk.

Opposing View Points: Bike Lanes

In favor: Bike lanes are awesome. They create a space in which the novice cyclist feels safe. It encourages cycling, and gets more people on the road. Plus, bike lanes feel fast because you don't have to worry as much about maintaining CONSTANT VIGILANCE regarding the traffic around you.

Opposed: Bike lanes infantilize a legitimate form of road transportation. As a cyclist and equal citizen of the road, I am entitled to all the privileges of the road. I don't need to be siphoned off into a special safety lane. Bike lanes also discourage cycling in the sense that a novice cyclist, used to the bike lane oasis, will not venture out onto new roads, and will feel discouraged from cycling if the trip cannot be made using bike lanes.

Where do I stand? I'm in favor of them being a resource to the beginning cyclist, but am leery of cyclists becoming dependent on them. I think bike lanes are good in that they remove an obstacle between the road and a curious cyclist; they serve the valuable function of offering a feeling of security. I also think that as cyclists gain experience and confidence in the bike lanes, they will venture out onto other roads that don't have bike lanes. And there they will gain vehicular cycling experience. Bike lanes are like training wheels for grown-ups.

#bikeschool recap 5/5/11

ala Rob Row's rundown, here is my recap of last week's #bikeschool, which I too missed.

• ***Q1: In honor of Cinco de Mayo, how would you combine bikes and tacos for the ultimate best day ever? #bikeschool
  
  Surely I didn't just invent this: is there a taco shaped bike bell? A "Taco Bell," if you will?
  
  I did have a Chipotle veggie bowl on Cinco de Mayo, but only because my partner brought me her leftovers. Whatever, it counts. I had guacamole. Cinco de Mayo: observed.
  
  
• ***Q2: It's National Bike Month in the USA, are you doing anything special to acknowledge it this year? ***** #bikeschool
  
  Denver observes Bike Month is June. But I look forward to hearing about everybody else's adventures during May and then having my own in June!
  
  One thing I'm doing right now to get pumped and to get other people interested is cleaning up the bike parking locker where I work.
  
  More on that later.
  
  
• ***Q3: If you could be any other bike rider/cyclist for a day, who would it be, and why? ***** #bikeschool
  
  I'm picturing somebody in board shorts, cruising down to the beach with a six pack in tow.
  
  I'd be that dude.
  
  
• ***Q4: Who has a cycling-related tattoo? Gold star to those who post a photo. ***** #bikeschool
  
  I don't have any tattoos.
  
  I'd like to see somebody get a "Share the road" tramp stamp. How funny would it be to see that peeking out of a cyclist's shorts on the road?
  
  
• ***Q5: When you pass another cyclist on the road, do you nod, wave, shout? What do you do? *****#bikeschool
  
  I smile, nod, and say hello, and try to make the road a friendlier place.
  
  If we're stopped at a light together, I often try to strike up some kind of conversation.
  
  If I'm passing somebody, I shout a warning; I don't have a bell.
  
  I often chastise people for passing me closely without giving a warning. It can be startling!
  
  

Opposing View Points: Helmets

In favor: Helmets save lives. Plain and simple. It's like a seat belt. Just wear it, and if something unfortunate happens, you'll be more likely to survive it. How is there even an argument against wearing helmets?

Opposed: Your Magic Styrofoam Hat isn't going to save your life if you get hit by a car. What is going to save your life are your riding skills, and awareness of your surroundings. All of which begs the question of the inherent dangerous nature of bicycling. Cycling is not dangerous. Things like mandatory helmet laws and Bike Safety Month are turn people away from cycling by suggesting that cycling is so dangerous that it requires special equipment and month long awareness campaigns.

Where do I stand? Somewhere in between. I don't think helmets are Magic Styrofoam Hats. And I wear one 99% of the time. But there are occasions when I want to go for a ride and feel the wind in my hair because it feels good.

Dangers of not taking the lane

Totally got buzzed by a car today. It was partially my fault because I was being a gutter-hugger by riding too close to the curb instead of asserting myself into the lane.

I knew better, too. It was on a road where I know I have to take the full lane, or I'll be passed way too closely.

I guess I was just day dreaming or something.

That inches-away car sure did bring me back to reality though!

I did the thing I usually do when I get buzzed. I shouted "TOO CLOSE!" and shook my head disapprovingly.

That'll learn 'em!

I still have yet to perfect what I think is an awesome response to stuff like that: the emphatic Thumbs Down. Compared to the Bird it is less inciting and more shaming.

And truth be told, that's exactly what I'm looking to levy upon people who are driving inconsiderately or recklessly or carelessly near me. I don't want to instigate a confrontation. I want to shame and haze the driver so they're aware of their actions.

Sounds of the road

Here are some sounds I recognize while on the road.

• There is a car behind me and—
1. it is far away and going slow.
2. it is going way too fast.
3. it is nearby, about to pass me, and is way too close to me.
4. it is behind me but isn't making an effort to pass me.
• The car that was behind me just turned onto to side street.
• There is a bike behind me and it needs some chain lube!
• Somebody just honked at me I am about to die. (Seriously, there is no "friendly honk." It's always "I am about to die.")

I glance over my shoulder to get a visual of what's behind me every once in a while, but I rely a lot on my ears while riding.

Wind, snow, and rain make riding especially difficult for me because they limit my hearing.

Just so you know, Denver, it is illegal to ride with headphones on! I met a guy last week who received that ticket.

It's not a bike law, but it's a vehicle law.

And so is wearing your seat belt, so. BE AWARE.

The oblivious masses

It's spring time and it's nice outside and there are a lot more people on the multi-use trails.

One type of trail-user who emerges in the spring but isn't present in the winter is the trail-user who is totally plugged in: both earbuds in, volume cranked, and totally oblivious to everything going on around them.

I'm having to yell "ON YOUR LEFT" louder and louder to penetrate their cone of silence.

Might need to get a bell.

Fog horn.

Something.

Shine a light on the problem

I arrived at work this morning after a very pleasant 6.5 mile commute to find our IT guys on site working on the new computers.

This work apparently involved having to go down into the crawlspace to run cables.

One of our technicians asked, naturally, for a flashlight so they could work down there.

Now, we do have a flashlight. Somewhere. But I'll be darned if we could find it!

After several futile moments of searching, I got a bright idea and grabbed the two Cat Eyes off the front of my bike—yes, I have two headlights. Two tail lights too!—turned them on steady and handed them off.

Not that much later, the work was complete, and two different technicians returned each light, each of them holding it out in front of them confusedly and asking, "How do you turn this thing off?"

Quick Tip: Removing your tire

Quick tip!

If you need to remove your tire, you can use the lever from your quick release skewer.

(Unverified! Word of mouth knowledge from a commuting class I went to last week.)

National Bike Month vs Denver Bike Month

What's up, bnerds! It's May!

(I just made up the word 'bnerd.' It means bike nerd.)

For most of the nation, May is National Bike Month. Denver however opts-out in May and celebrates Bike Month in June.

There is a reason for that, and there is a bittersweet consequence of that.

The reason is that May is Denver's most precipitous month. Most of it is rain but some of it is snow. Other places are colder, and probably snowier. But that's the reason. Other snowy/cold places act in like. The Wisconsin Bike Fed, for example, promotes Bike To Work Week in early June.

The consequence of not being in sync with the majority of the rest of the nation is that you get to spend a month keeping up with blogs, photos, tweets and more from all over the states as people are biking, going to events, getting together for rides, and generally having an awesome time. It can feel like you're missing out. But you also get to spend a month getting pumped about your local Bike Month seeing how much fun everybody is having! You really start anticipating and looking forward to your own local events.

And you can totally still participate remotely in May events. You can bike to work May 22nd AND June 22nd, you know.

It's really like having whole nother bike month!

Hook Prevention

So I was riding my bike down the Teenybopper Mallrat route, eastbound, which is more annoying than riding it the other direction because on this side, the south side, the eastbound side, the bike lane is a narrow little strip next to the curb that I barely consider safe to ride in because—

1. It often doesn't feel like there's enough room for traffic pass comfortably. I mean we're really flirting with the 3-foot passing distance, and
2. It's seriously right on the curb—in that space where cars usually park and next to which bike lanes usually go—and is often full of garbage, ice, glass, and everything else that gets swept to the side of the road.

Because of those two factors, I often ride in the regular traffic lane. To the dismay of any motorists behind me, I'm sure, but I do try to be mindful of them and pull over out of the way when it's safe so they can pass.

And that's just what I had done for this one car as we both approached Park Avenue. Once we got there, as you can see in the dramatic re-enactment below, the car wanted to turn right but was unable to because there was a little old lady in the crosswalk.

Click thru to google maps

As I approached, I saw that the LOL (little old lady) was going to clear the intersection just in time for the driver—should he not be paying attention to the cyclist (me) coming up behind him—to execute a perfect Right Hook.

Like the kind that took down two Denver police officers a couple weeks ago.

Ultimately, I had no intention of suffering a right hook, so I left the bike lane and merged into the traffic lane proper so he could right-turn away without worrying about me anymore than he would any motor vehicle.

I did it to be nice to him and, mostly, you know, out of self-preservation. But also to be nice.

Which is why I was surprised when he, after I got out of his way, did a hand fling at me in his rear-view mirror.

It wasn't an Incredudignantlous Flingsalute level hand fling, but it was a pretty good "C'MON WHAT THE HECK" fling, and was impressive in its own way since he had the steering wheel in one hand and his cell phone in the other.

So I think he was angry because he had mentally prepared to invest his valuable time in waiting for both a LOL and a Scofflaw Cyclist to pass the intersection before he could turn right, but I denied him that opportunity by not zipping around him.

I failed to live up to his expectations as a scofflaw cyclist, and true, it is frustrating when someone doesn't live up to your expectations. Especially if you're feeling pretty proud of the amount of observation and anticipation that lead you to form these expectations.

By all of which I only mean to say that the dude got a little angry, and I'm okay with that. You're allowed to get angry. You're entitled to your feelings.

But I will always behave the exact same way I did in that scenario, and I will continue to do so even if I know for sure that it will make that dude angry each time. Because I behaved in a way that allowed me to avoid a scenario in which there is a possibility I will get hit by a car.

And I am entitled to the feeling of not getting hit by a car.