A "Karen" Or Just A Jersey City Politican?

Over the years, I have cycled through Jersey City many times. On other occasions, I've also ridden there for some purpose, like work or a show, concert or other event.

But I've never ridden to Jersey City "just because."  I have long felt that it is one of the most bike-unfriendly places in the New York Metropolitan Area.  For one thing, the few bike lanes are even less practical and safe than even the worst ones I've seen in New York City.  One begins near Journal Square and winds up Bergen Avenue, one of the city's major north-south thoroughfares, before ending abruptly.  Along the way, it goes from being a two-way to a one-way lane.  

In most of New York City, if the bike lane is as useless or impractical as the one I've described, I'll just take regular streets. As I've ridden them for decades, I am familiar with traffic patterns and drivers' habits.  Plus, even in the oldest and most remote sections of the city, the streets are usually wide enough to give me at least some room to maneuver through traffic or parked cars.

The option I've described is less available in Jersey City.  The streets are narrower and, I believe, even more congested, as people depend more on motor vehicles, than in my hometown.  

While I don't think the drivers are necessarily more hostile toward cyclists than they are anyplace else.  Rather, I suspect that they are less bike-conscious as, for one thing, there are fewer cyclists and less of a bike culture than there is in some New York City neighborhoods or other locales in the Tri-State Area. Also, being a place where people drive more than they do in the Big Apple, drivers are still imbued with the old attitude that drivers have the primary right to the road: Pedestrians and cyclists are supposed to defer to them. If someone struck by a driver while walking or pedaling, someone is likely to ask what that cyclist or pedestrian was doing on that street.

But not even the least bike-conscious or bike-friendly person is ready to excuse what Amy De Gise did last Tuesday.  Around 8 am, she was driving through an intersection of Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard--at first glance, over the speed limit--when she struck cyclist Andrew Black with her Nissan Rouge.

She had the green light.  Black said he thought he had it. Whether he inadvertently or deliberately rode against the light, just about everyone agrees that what she did--or, more precisely, didn't do--next was inexcusable.

Nearly two years ago, a driver "doored" me near the Belmont race track.  To her credit, the driver stayed with me as a passerby--an African American man who was probably around my age--ran to the nearby drugstore, picked up bandages and disinfectants--and treated me until the ambulance arrived.  (I wish I could find out who that man was: I definitely owe him!)  And she cooperated with law enforcement, which made it easy for me to deal with her insurer  (Geico) in paying for the resulting costs. 

Ms. De Gise did not extend similar courtesies to Mr. Black.  She didn't slow down, let alone stop, to check up on him.   Fortunately, he wasn't seriously injured:  He got up and continued riding.  Still, everyone who's commented on the situation agrees that even if he rode through a red light, there was no excuse for what Ms. De Gise what any interpretation of the law would describe as "leaving the scene of an accident."

Amy De Gise strikes Andrew Black at 1:01 of this video.

The cynic in me has two views of her.  One is that she is a common-variety "Karen."  The other, though, is that she was acting out of another kind of entitlement:  She is a council member in a city and state long known for political corruption.  Moreover, she is the daughter of a powerful local politician:  longtime Hudson County Executive Tom De Gise.

Contrast her response to the situation to that of passerby.  According to the Jersey Journal, after his shoes were knocked off his feet and his mangled bicycle skidded to the curb, he gathered himself enough to stand, put on one shoe and hobble to the sidewalk where, 

One woman brought him his other shoe.  People from a corner preschool set down a cooler so he could sit.  Cellphones were whipped out and a small group of people gathered around him to see how he was.  Several vehicles stopped, at least momentarily, and bystanders peered up the block to see what the SUV was doing.

Those folks should be, at the very least, commended.  I am sure everyone agrees with that.  I know that everyone, from public officials to everyday citizens, who have commented on the situation also agree with this:  Amy De Gise must resign.  Until she does, the driver who doored me will have taken more responsibility for what she did than Ms. De Gise has for her action and inaction.

Stolen Elections And Traffic Lanes

There is nothing so demonstrably false that, if repeated often enough, large numbers of people will take as fact.  

This is especially true today, with social media as such a powerful tool for amplifying misinformation or outright lies.  (I know, you're reading this over social media.  What can I say?) If the election of Donald Trump--and the notion that he had re-election "stolen" from him--hasn't taught us as much, I don't know what will.

One problem, I think, is that people who are in a position to question such stories---a polite way of saying "folks who ought to have well-tuned bullshit detectors"--accept, wittingly or not, misinformation at face value.  They don't question the sources of such stories, let alone how anyone came to the conclusions that are spread as lies or disinformation.

A recent example came in the form of a questionable study that morphed into an urban legend via the British media.  To be fair, such a scenario could have--and probably has--played out in other countries and cities.  It's one thing when the Daily Mail (which, as best as I can tell, seems like England's equivalent of the New York Post) spreads, as we would say in the academic argot, narratives with a tenuous relationship with verities. It's another when outlets as august as the BBC spread such nonsense.  The Daily Mail's headline proclaimed, "Cycle lanes installed at start of COVID pandemic help make London most congested city in the world."  BBC London made it sound more reasonable, or simply toned it down:  "Cycle lanes blamed as city named most congested."

The story could have gotten even more traction had Peter Walker, a reporter on transportation and environmental issues for the Guardian, spoken about it  on a national radio program.  At least, more people would have taken the narrative as an article of faith if he’d spoken about it as the program’s producers might have expected. 

He had been contacted to do that, he says.  As he checked the story, the program's producers decided to bring on somebody else.  From what Walker says, I can't help but to wonder whether the person they chose parroted the lines from the Daily Mail and BBC London items.

Turns out, the business about London being the most congested city came from a report called the "Global Traffic Scorecard."  Its title makes it seem plausible enough--until you realize that it was issued by a company called Inrix, which sells traffic data.

Photo by Dominika Zarzycka, from the Guardian

Now, I haven't been to London in a long time, so I can't offer even anecdotal evidence to confirm or refute the report's conclusion.  For all I know, London might be more congested than Paris or Athens, two large cities in which I've cycled during the past couple of years.  And it may well be more choked with traffic than cities like Luang Prbang or Siem Reap, which I've also recently ridden.  

One problem is that whoever compiled the Inrix report couldn't tell us whether the British capital is more congested than any Asian, African or Latin American city because no such places were included in the study.  

Another is that their determination of London as the most congested city is based on--again I'll revert to academic argot--flawed methodology.  It seems to be based on the premise that traffic is like water:  its flow is determined by the width of the pipe, or road.  Decades of research have refuted this idea (commonly called "induced demand" or, for laypeople, "build it and they will come") about traffic, but it seems to be a foundation for the report--and an Inrix employee who embellished and amplified it.

Peter Lees' official Inrix title is "Director of Operations--Media."  In other words, he's a publicist (which, I blush to admit, I was for a (thankfully) brief time). Such people tend not to be "traffic wonks," Walker says, or a wonks of any kind.   Now whether Lees is a bald-faced liar, or simply someone who doesn't actually read the stuff he represents to the media, I won't say. I will, however mention this:  He linked London's congestion to bike lanes--which are not mentioned anywhere in the 21-page report.

Now, I have all sorts of issues with bike lanes, at least as they exist in too many places.  I've ridden too many, especially here in New York, that are poorly conceived, designed, constructed and maintained.  They don't provide practical or safe routes for transportation cycling:  Few link to other bike (or bikeable) routes or to places where significant numbers or would-be cycle commuters study, work or shop.  But any traffic congestion--including that of Crescent Street in Astoria, where I live--existed before bike lanes were built.

Misinformation, whether or not it's intended as such, can cause people to believe things that are demonstrably false and act in irrational ways, especially when it's amplified by folks with actual or metaphorical microphones.  So, in that sense, what leads folks to think that bike lanes cause traffic congestion is basically the same as what causes them to believe their candidate had an election "stolen" from him.

  

A Bike Lane Or A Parking Spot

 If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that one of my pet peeves is bike lanes that put cyclists in more danger than they’d experience in riding on the streets.

Bike lanes can be hazardous in all sorts of ways:  They can be poorly constructed or maintained.  They can be poorly conceived and designed. (How many lanes begin or end “out of the blue” or lead cyclists straight into the path of trucks or buses turning right in intersections?) Or they can be marked (or not) in ways that confuse motorists and pedestrians as well as cyclists.

The latter situation confronts drivers and cyclists along Lake Avenue on Cleveland’s West Side. Recently, the city installed a bike lane there.  What they neglected to do, however, was to remove 30- and 60-minute parking signs.  

Not only is it inconvenient for cyclists when motor vehicles pull in and out, or park in bike lanes: it’s also hazardous. “It creates a situation where motorists don’t expect cyclists to veer out into the roadway because there is a bike lane,” explained Jacob VanSickle of Bike Cleveland.

He says BC has contacted the city about removing the signs.  The city said it’s the duty of a contractor for the Ohio Department of Transportation to remove the signs.  According to Isaac Hunt, the lane is expected to be completed by mid-December and the signs will be gone “in a few weeks.”

“Those are bike lanes now,” Hunt says and cars are therefore not permitted to park in them. But, many drivers are understandably confused by the signs: perhaps they don’t see the bike lane markings or realize they aren’t supposed to park in a bike lane.  

Then, of course, there are motorists who resent having “their” road space taken from them, or just don’t care about rules. For them, the rules have to be enforced.  For everyone else, those rules—and the very existence of the bike lane—need to be clarified.

Recovery, X2

Yesterday I saw an orthopedic doctor.  My muscle strain, though painful, is not serious, he said:  "Take it easy, it'll heal itself."  He took some of the stitches out of my leg and substituted surgical tape.  

I don't know whether he's a cyclist, but he deals a lot with sports injuries.  So he understood when I complained that not cycling--when, it seems, everyone else in the world is turning their pedals and spinning their wheels through streets and paths dusted with red and gold and brown leaves fluttered down from wizening boughs--is driving me totally nuts.  "About two more weeks, if this keeps up," he said about my recovery.  That, to be fair, is a bit more optimistic than what the folks in the Long Island Jewish emergency room told me.  "That makes sense," he said.  "In ERs, they're zealous with their treatment and advice."

Of course, I don't mind now that the ER doctors and nurses were "zealous":  It may be the reason why I'm recovering well, so far.  But, oh, I want to get back on my bike.  And I don't want to gain back the weight I've lost during the last few months!

One irony in all of this is that the day after I got home from the hospital, I got a call from a doctor at the Westchester Medical Center Brain and Spine Center, where I ended up after my June accident.  The bleeding near my brain had cleared up, he said, and the latest images show no residual damage.  But, he admonished me to "be careful" because another impact to my head can magnify the trauma I suffered in the first accident.

"I will," I promised.  I didn't tell him why.

(Thank you to everyone who checked in on me!)

Bringing Up Baby (Carrier)

According to an urban legend, red cars get more speeding tickets than vehicles of other colors.  That's almost true:  Red cars came in second to, interestingly, white cars in a recent study.  Surprisingly (at least to me), gray and silver came in third and fourth, respectively.

I thought of that study when I came across a report of a Belgian study.  According to researchers, bicycles with baby carriers attached to their rears are given a wider berth by motorists, whether or not there's a baby in the carrier.  Cyclists with child-towing trailers are also given more room by drivers, according to this study.

Carlton Reid, the excellent transportation reporter for Forbes, makes an intriguing (and, I believe, valid) point:  Drivers, whether consciously or unconsciously, might give more room to cyclists they deem more "worthy."  Someone riding with a child or baby in tow is seen as doing something that contributes to the welfare and mental health of that child or baby, while the single cyclist--especially if he or she is young--incurs the resentment, and even wrath, of drivers who see us as "privileged."

Photo by Constance Bannister, New York State, 1946

Hmm...Maybe I should attach a carrier--or trailer--to one of my bikes.  Can you see someone weighing down his $12,000 S-Works rig with one?

Am I Worth Half?

Nobody likes it when somebody gets away with murder.

At least, that is my belief. Too often, though, it's put to the test when the dead person is a cyclist.  It seems that too many police officers are unwilling to arrest intoxicated or negligent drivers who run down people on bicycles.  And, if the cops do their jobs, too many jurors and judges are willing to let such drivers go with a "slap on the wrist."

In fact, hostility is directed toward the cyclist in much the same way it was, not so long ago, directed at rape victims:  Somehow, in the minds of some people, the cyclist or rape victim brought it on him/her self.

So, it catches my attention when a hit-and-run driver who kills a cyclist is actually brought to account for her actions.

I used the female pronoun because, in this case, the perpetrator is indeed female.  Lacey Jade Jordan of Oakdale, Louisiana was driving a Chevrolet Silverado south on U.S. 165 when she struck Taurus McQuarn, who was cycling in the same direction.  She struck him and fled the scene.

Lacey Jade Jordan

Notice that I said "her actions."  You see, it's not the first time Ms. Jordan has done something like that.  In November 2012, she struck and killed another cyclist along the very same road.  Then, she and the cyclist were both traveling on the northbound side.

So, it took two cyclists' deaths before a negligent driver was arrested and charged.  Does it mean that, in the eyes of Louisiana law enforcement, each of our lives is worth half of a non-cyclist's life?

 

When A Motorist Pays For Endangering A Cyclist

As I've recounted in several (too many!) posts, cyclists are struck, or even killed, by motorists--and not much happens to the motorist.  If anything, the motorist is given tea and sympathy, and the cyclist is blamed for his or her own misfortune, even if the motorist was clearly violating the law. 

What does it take to hold a lawless driver to account?

I think the answer might have just come from San Antonio, Texas:  when the cyclist in question is a police officer on patrol.  

On the evening of 29 June, two San Antonio officers were patrolling the area around Cattleman's Square on bicycles.  They noticed a vehicle that made a turn without signaling and followed it until it stopped a few blocks later.  

One of the officers walked up to the driver, 22-year-old Jonathan Ray Martinez, and asked him to identify himself as the other officer parked his bicycle in front of the car Martinez was driving.  

Jonathan Ray Martinez

The officer who parked his bike noticed that Martinez was reaching into the center console and looked nervous.  Believing that Martinez might attack, he reached into the car to grab Martinez's hands.  He couldn't get a hold, and Martinez started to drive away.

The officer's arm was hit, and his bicycle was run over.  Another officer, in a car, started to chase, but lost, Martinez.  San Antonio police, however,  were able to link him to the incident through the license plate.  

Martinez was charged with aggravated assault on a public servant and was booked on an unrelated assault warrant.  His bail totaled $57,000.

Although I sometimes complain about the way police officers treat us, I am glad that the officer who tried to stop Martinez wasn't more seriously injured, and that Martinez is being punished for endangering a cyclist's life with a deadly weapon (his car).  But the cynic (or realist?) in me says that he would have gotten off with a lighter penalty had the person on the bicycle not been a police officer.

Who's On Track?

When I started to write on the Web, one of the best pieces of advice I got was not to read the comments on what I write.

Of course, I don't follow that nugget of wisdom for this blog, as you, my dear readers, tend to be supportive and well-informed.  The worst things I get are spam, which are the only comments I delete.

I have received a few mean-spirited or simply ignorant comments on my other blog.  Even there, however, such nastiness or stupidity has been rare, even though the topic of that blog is something that incites more hatred and sanctimoniousness than just about anything I could write on this blog.

Some articles and essays of mine have been published about other topics, on other sites, under my actual name (which you see on this blog's masthead) as well as various noms de plume.  Sometimes, I must admit, I sneak a peek at the comments on those.  A few are nasty but, unfortunately, entirely predictable.  But, for the most part, I have not been unpleasantly surprised.

Now, when it comes to comments on stuff not written by me, I rarely, if ever, read the comments.  For one thing, I just don't have the time to read them all.  But, perhaps even more to the point, I have seen even more ignorance, bile and arrogance than I find in response to most of my own work.

Today I read the comments after an article I came across.  Mainly, I was curious about people's reactions town (Portage, Michigan) planning to build a bicycle skills course in a local park.  One commenter, not surprisingly, railed against what he/she perceived to be a waste of taxpayer's money.  A couple thought it was an OK idea; if nothing else, they thought that it would be safer for kids to ride there and that it might encourage them to get the exercise they need.

Rendition of proposed bike ramp in Portage, Michigan

Probably the most ignorant comment, though, came from "Eddiebaseball",  who said kids should be taught, among other things,  to wear white at night and walk their bikes across intersections.  Of course, walking a bike across every intersection would make it almost pointless for kids to ride their bikes to school:  They may as well walk or take the bus.  But I couldn't get too angry at "Eddiebaseball"   because, well, I probably will never meet him (I'm assuming he's a dude.), but more important, I realized that the person was just reciting all the nonsense kids saw in bicycle "safety" films during the 1950s and '60's and, most likely, hasn't ridden a bike since then.

Another commenter, "Fullbowl", responded to "Eddiebaseball".  Now, "Fullbowl"'s comment didn't restore my faith in humanity (Actually, I didn't lose what I have of it when reading EB's comment.).  It did, at least, reassure me that there is at least one well-informed voice of reason among the site's readership.

Here is "Fullbowl"'s comment:

Reply to @eddiebaseball: and while you're at it teach drivers how to leave their smart phones alone while driving, travel at the posted speed or a speed safe for the road conditions, stop at stop signs and lights, yield to pedestrians, give bicyclists room, make turns at the correct speed ending up in the correct lane, don't turn where prohibited, look at the big picture (far enough down the road) to anticipate needed maneuvers, don't tailgate etc. etc. etc.

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 I've never been to Portage, but I imagine they are better--as any place would be--for "Fullbowl"'s wisdom.  And I'm sure the kids will benefit from having that bike course.

Making Drivers Bicycle-Friendly in Colorado

Whenever I've ridden outside the US, I couldn't help but to notice how much more courteous drivers are to cyclists.  Even in Cambodia and Laos, which don't have cycling cultures like those in some European countries, I had less fear of riding even the most chaotic streets than I sometimes have in my home town and country.

What's especially interesting, to me, is that it doesn't seem to matter whether I'm in the city or the country.  In France, the country where I've spent the most time (besides the US), I find drivers in Paris nearly as accommodating as those in Provence or Picardy.

The reason, I believe, is that drivers are simply more conscious of cyclists and of how cycling is different from driving.  In the US, many people never get on a bike again after they get their drivers' licenses, usually at age 16 or thereabouts.  In other countries, some people continue to pedal, at least for short distances, even after they're allowed to drive.  Some never even become regular drivers, usually because they can't afford it, but sometimes out of choice:  There are situations in which a bicycle is actually more convenient than a motorized vehicle.

In other words, in other places, drivers are more conscious of cyclists because they are more likely to be, or have recently been, regular or occasional cyclists themselves.  Also, most countries didn't experience two or three generations of people who didn't ride as adults, as the US did from the end of World War I until recently.

Thankfully, a few policy makers are at least beginning to understand what I've just described.  That seems to be the reason why the National Safety Council has given one of its Road to Zero grants to Bicycle Colorado so it can conduct Bicycle-Friendly Driver Certification programs throughout the state.  

The curriculum was created in Fort Collins, a city in the northern part of the state long known for its cycling infrastructure.  Since then, Bicycle Colorado has brought its classes, which are free for participants,  to other parts of the state--including, most recently, Colorado Springs.  BC has also made its curriculum available so that other communities can adapt it.  

Community Safety Cooridiator Molly McKinley says the classes teach drivers about "sharing the road" from the motorist's perspective:  how to pass and yield to cyclists, how to turn and how to utilize a bike lane.  She says it also is an attempt to inculcate drivers with the notion that cyclists are drivers of vehicles who have just as much right to the road as motorists.  The importance of exercising caution and patience when passing a cyclist is also emphasized, McKinley says.

Molly McKinley leading a Bicycle-Freindly Driver Certification class.

Perhaps most important of all, Bicycle Colorado is trying to reach drivers who might not otherwise come into contact with such a program.  According to Maureen McCanna, Bicycle Colorado's education program manager, BC is "trying to support communities who want to incorporate this education but don't have the resources to do it."   Also, she says, her group wants to "make sure we are reaching people who may not be avid cyclists and may not have that perspective."

I think she has a clear understanding of what needs to be done.  Now, all she and others have to do is figure out a way to make it all happen nationwide.  After all, we have two or three generations' worth of knowledge to catch up on.

From Her Saddle To A Seat On The Board?

I'll admit I've flipped off, um, a few drivers in my time.  More than likely, anyone who's cycled in New York can say the same thing.

I'll also admit there were times I could have been more temperate.  But I'll also say that there were times when said motorists deserved my wrath.

A woman we saw back in October could say the same for someone who passed her:





That is how she greeted El Cheeto Grande.  As a result, she lost her job.

Juli Briskman's suit against her former employer, Akira LLC, was dismissed.  She then saw two options:  Keep on fighting an uphill battle in court, or try to change the laws herself.  "After lots of conversations I decided I would be more effective on the board," she recalls.

She's talking about the Board of Supervisors in Loudoun County, where she lives.  She plans to run in the Northern Virginia locale where the Board is mostly Republican but voters often choose Democrats, as they did for Hilary Clinton in 2016.

People have told her that even though his views aren't hers, she should respect the office of the president.  She disagrees, saying "I think the Constitution grants me that privilege" of expressing her opinion as she did on that day while the President headed back to the capital from the Trump National Golf Course in Virginia.

Would you vote for her?  I would.

Fighting For Scraps At The Edge In The Mile High City

When I was writing for a local newspaper, a kinda-sorta-somewhat high-ranking (Is that vague, or what?) police officer admitted that  he didn't make arrests or even give summonses for some low-level offenses.  "Is it because you want to spend your time and energy on more important things?"

He shook his head.  When I reassured him that our conversation was off-the-record, he admitted that he doesn't give tickets or arrest people for some of those minor infractions because, well, he has committed "most of them" himself at some point or another in his life.  

Now, as I understand, here in New York, as in many other places, police officers are exempt from some of those charges.  The same holds true in Denver, where they cannot be charged with an offense they rarely ticket:  riding a bicycle on a sidewalk.

The Mile High City's statutes on this matter are similar to those in many other places:  The rule doesn't apply if the sidewalk is part of a designated bike route. Also, police who are riding their bikes as part of their uniformed duties, as well as other uniformed city, state and federal employees are exempt.  So are newspaper deliverers.

Denver police officers on the 16th Street Mall during the 2008 Democratic National Convention.

Oh, one other group of cyclists is allowed to ride on the sidewalk:  Those within one block of preparing to dismount their bikes.  That alone is probably a reason why cops don't enforce the policy:  How are they supposed to know that a cyclist is going to dismount on the next block?

But the vagueness of that part of the law is not the only reason why it's infrequently enforced in Colorado's capital. According to a recent report, the officers themselves admit that cycling on some of the city's streets is simply unsafe, and the sidewalk is the only viable alternative.  

One officer added that his exemption from the law is not the only reason he violates it.  "I'm not going to get hit," he explained.  He, perhaps not surprisingly, admitted that he has never ticketed anyone for the violation.

Jill Lancatore, Executive Director of the nonprofit advocacy group WalkDenver, says that officer's perception hit the nail on the head.  Though she acknowledges pedestrians are frustrated, she cautions against making the issue one of pedestrians vs. cyclists because "So much of our public right of way are dedicated to cars that everybody else is pushed to the fringes and we're fighting for scraps at the edge of the roadway."

I have not cycled in Denver but, based on what I saw in other parts of Colorado, I imagine it's more spread-out and car-centric than my hometown or places like San Francisco or Portland. From reports I've read, streets are particularly narrow, probably as a result of constraints of construction in the mountains.  That, in and of itself, is a reason to make cycling safer and thus more enticing to more people.  

But there is another reason:  In part because of its altitude, Denver has some of the worst air quality among major American cities.  So, working to make cycling safer can only help to improve residents' health as well as safety.

Until then, cyclists, pedestrians and other non-motorists will "fight for scraps at the edge," as Lancatore says.  And cops like the one I mentioned will look the other way.

A Ride Of Silence To Speak For Him

In Greek tragedies, the hero falls to a combination of circumstances and his or her personal failings or shortcomings.

One of the reasons such stories endure is that they make the world make some kind of sense.  The combination of situation and personal flaw give a sense of symmetry, if not justice, to the demise of the hero.

Of course, it doesn't always work out that way in life.  Sometimes a person meets his or her fate due to an incident that he or she did not bring on and cannot control.

Such is the story of Roger Grooters, who went on a ride to help people whose lives were changed for the worse by a circumstance not of their making.  

Eight years ago, the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill (better known as the BP Oil Spill) spewed seemingly endless streams of crude oil into the Gulf of Mexico, befouling beaches in five US states and Mexico and leaving birds, fish and marine mammals sick, helpless or even dead.  Grooters wanted to help the people from whom the spill their property, livelihoods and health.  

His pastor and fellow church congregants told him there was nothing tangible he could do.  He thought otherwise.  So, on 10 September of that year, he got on his bicycle in Oceanside, California, near San Diego, with the intention of reaching Jacksonville, Florida.  He documented his trip, which raised $12,000, on a blog called Roger X Country.

The name of that blog has been changed to We Ride For Roger.  A little more than a month after he started his ride, a pickup truck was barreling down State Road 20 just outside of Panama City, in the Florida Panhandle.  The driver was texting and--unfortunately, you can guess what happened next:  He plowed right into the back of Grooters.

You can probably guess what happened next:  He didn't make it to Jacksonville.  He didn't make it, period.  His ride ended after 2179.4 miles, or about 300 miles short of his destination.

The following year, a group of cyclists that included some of his family members gathered at the crash site and continued his ride to Jacksonville.  He rode to raise awareness of the victims of one disaster; they were riding to raise awareness of the victims of the kinds of disasters that occur all too frequently on roadways in Florida and elsewhere.

The Ride Of Silence

A cyclist has a greater chance of being killed by a motorist in the Florida than in any other state in the Union.  I am sure that at least some of the 100 riders who gathered yesterday at Pensacola State College were aware of that. They participated in a seven-mile "Ride of Silence" along the city's streets in drizzle and rain.  At the beginning of the ride, organizers read the names of dozens of cyclists who have been killed while riding in the Florida Panhandle as bagpipers played "Amazing Grace".

The riders wore armbands--black for those who'd never been struck by a car, red for those who had.  I couldn't find a count, but from the photos I saw, the red bands were numerous.

Oh, by the way....The driver was so immersed in his texting that he didn't realize what he'd hit until the police stopped him.  He was cited and fined but never apologized to Roger Grooters' family.

Losing The War He Described: Andrew Tilin

Riders take to the road and take their chances.  There, they can encounter distracted, impatient or drunk drivers, lane-hogging SUVs, deteriorating pavement and traffic-clogged grids.  Multiple dangers exist from coast to coast.

So wrote Andrew Tilin in a 2014 issue of Outside magazine.  A frequent contributor to that magazine, Bicycling and other related publications.  A dedicated cyclist and amateur racer, he knew the hazards he described as well as anyone did.

Well, he became a victim of those very dangers.  On Saturday morning, he was riding in fog with the Gruppo VOP Cycling Club, based in Austin, Texas, when he got a flat tire.  He pulled to the side of the road to change a flat tire.  Meantime, a car skidded on the slick pavement and crashed into a truck, sending it careening into the side of the road--and Tilin.  He died soon after.

Andrew Tilin (center)

In addition to his columns, he is known in and out of the cycling community for what may have been our equivalent of Super Size Me.  Several years after Morgan Spurlock lived on McDonald's food and made a documentary of his resulting weight gain and other health issues, Tilin spent a year taking testosterone and wrote about how it affected his athletic performance and life in The Doper Next Door.

Members of Gruppo VOP are planning a memorial for him.

Will The Idaho Stop Become The Utah Yield?

Now you can call it "The Utah Yield."

At least, that's what Carol Spackman Moss is calling it.

She's a member of the Beehive State's House of Representatives.  More to the point, she is part of that body's Transportation Committee, which passed House Bill 58 yesterday.

That bill, if it becomes law, would allow cyclists to forego the 90-second wait at "Stop" signs mandated in current statutes.  In other words, "Stop" would mean "Yield".

In 1982, Idaho--Utah's northern neighbor--passed such a law.  Since then, other jurisdictions, including several Colorado towns as well as the city of Paris, have passed similar legislation which allow cyclists to proceed through stop signs or red lights under certain conditions.  Still, treating "Stop" signs as "Yield" signs is often referred to, colloquially, as the "Idaho stop".

But Bill 58 goes a step further than Idaho's law.  If passed, it would allow cyclists to treat red traffic signals as if they were "Stop" signs, meaning that we could proceed through them after 90 seconds if there is the intersection is clear.

These provisions, together, create what Ms. Moss calls the "Utah Yield".

I applaud her work and that of her colleagues, especially since they took the time to read studies about other jurisdictions with "stop-as-yield" policies.  In none of them was any increase in the risk of car-bicycle crashes found.  Moreover, one Idaho study found a 14 percent decrease in collisions between cars and bikes.

I can't help but to wonder whether she or her any of her colleagues are cyclists:  In addition to their research, they based their work on some commonsense observations.  The bill ought to become law, Ms. Moss says, because traffic signals throughout the state are "designed for cars and not for bicycles."  As an example, she says that, all too often, when cyclists stop for a red light, they have to "wait and wait because they are not heavy enough to trigger the road sensors."

Bill 58 will now go to the House floor consideration.                                                                         

What Would They Say To Each Other?

Well-behaved women seldom make history.

By now, you've probably seen that saying on more than a few bumper stickers.  You might have even heard it.  

Just for fun, I've asked people who said it first.  The answers have included almost every kind of woman imaginable, from Eleanor Roosevelt to Marilyn Monroe and Gloria Steinem to Kim Kardashian.

Kim Kardashian?  I'm not even sure "seldom" is in her vocabulary!

I confess:  Until I knew better, I would have believed that Eleanor Roosevelt uttered it.  For that matter, I could have believed it came from Sinead O'Connor or even Madonna.  But, alas, the pithy quote spilled from the pen of an academic with whom even I wasn't familiar. (Shh..don't tell anybody!)

She is none other than Laurel Thatcher Ulrich, a Pulitzer-Prize winning historian.  That saying, however, was not part of the work that would earn her acclaim:  it was tucked in an article she wrote as a graduate student.  Ironically, some three decades later, she would use that aphorism as the title of a book, precisely because it was everywhere.

Now, I must say, with all due respect to Professor Ulrich, I generally try to behave myself, and even try to resemble a lady, at least in some ways.  I also must say that I am constitutionally incapable of being so well-behaved at every moment.  Yes, there are times when I "lose it" and use words graduate students rarely use in papers they're trying to publish in the hopes of becoming professors.

I won't repeat those words here.  Fortunately--for me, anyway--most of the drivers (and errant pedestrians) who were at the receiving end of my "good old Anglo Saxon words" never saw me again. 

Let's face it:  When a driver who's texting almost kills you, it's hard not to yell and curse.   Those "four letter words" are most accessible when we're under stress and in danger, especially when it's caused by someone else's negligence or stupidity.  

But what if bikes and cars could talk?  What would they say to each other in such situations?

That question isn't as fanciful as you might think.  Trek is partnering with Ford and Tome Software to come up with a bicycle-to-vehicle (B2V) communications system that alerts drivers to bicycles that might be ahead of them in dangerous areas of the road.  

One thing I find interesting is that the partners are trying make their system "brand agnostic", so it's not tied to one platform or product. (And we can't have Net Neutrality?) For the next year, he will be working at the Mcity autonomous vehicle test site at the University of Michigan to develop software that can go into bike and car accessories and apps.

 "This is something that will absolutely save lives if we do this, " says Tome founder and CEO Jake Sigal.  

I don't doubt him.  I just wonder what he will have bikes and cars saying to each other in a B2V communications system.  Will they be well-behaved?

Is Five Feet Enough?

He survived a slaughter or a massacre, depending on how you view it.

Paul Gobble, a photographer and rider, was out for a weekly Tuesday-evening ride with fellow cyclists of "The Chain Gang."  

At that moment, police were searching for a blue Chevy pickup truck after, within minutes, three separate callers reported that it was being driven "erratically" along roads near Kalamazoo, Michigan.  

One of those roads was the one on which Gobble and his friends had been riding.  But the police couldn't get to that truck before it plowed into "The Chain Gang."

Gobble is still recovering from the brain injury and broken bones he suffered that day, in June of 2016.  But Melissa Fevig-Hughes, Suzanne Sippel, Debbie Bradley, Tony Nelson and Larry Paulik have no such opportunity:  They were killed almost instantly as that truck plowed into them.

Like many of us who haven't (yet) been as unfortunate as he was on that day, he says there is "a great deal of ignorance" about cyclists' right to use the road.  Moreover, he says too many drivers are "just angry that we're out there." So, "they yell at us" and "drive aggressively toward us," he points out.

The implication of his remarks, and those of other Michigan cyclists, is that the Wolverine State has been slow to protect cyclists.  Perhaps that is not surprising in a state that is home to Motor City, a.k.a. Detroit, where many workers' jobs have been lost or threatened in recent years.  Since I am not an economist, I will not get into all of the reasons for the decline of the auto industry in Michigan and other parts of the United States.  But I think it's fair to say that some whose livelihoods have been sustained by the internal combustion engine might see--inaccurately--cyclists as "The Enemy", or at least a manifestation of all of the changes that, in their minds, endanger their way of life.

Of course, such thoughts may not have been in the mind of Charles E. Pickett, the driver of that truck.  His vision may well have been impaired by substances rather than a faulty socio-economic analysis that day.  No matter:  He drove into a group of cyclists, killing five and injuring four others, including Gobble.

Other than stopping someone like Pickett from driving in the first place, what can prevent motorists from running down cyclists--particularly those like Gobble and The Chain Gang, who had more than a century of cycling experience between them?

Most planning and lawmaking related to this question seems to be predicated on the notion that bikes and cars must be separated as much as possible.  That, I believe, is the thinking behind most bike lane construction.  It also seems to be the philosophy behind laws like the one that has been proposed in Michigan.  It would require motorists to give cyclists a five-foot berth when passing them.  Current Michigan law stipulates only that vehicles pass at "a safe distance."  Furthermore, that regulation has been interpreted to apply only to motor vehicles, not bicycles.



Eight other states have laws with language much like that of Michigan's.  Thirty other states, and the District of Columbia, mandate a three-foot berth.  One of those states, South Dakota, requires 6 feet when the motor vehicle is traveling at 35 or more MPH.  North Carolina specifies a two-foot berth, except in no-passing zones, where four feet are required.  Pennsylvania stipulates a four-foot buffer zone in all situations.

While some laud members of the Michigan Legislature for giving long-overdue attention to the safety of cyclists--whose numbers are growing--others wonder just how effective such laws actually are.  Studies have reached conflicting conclusions about whether three-foot laws, as they're often called, actually keep cyclists from being struck by motorists.  For one thing, such laws--like the ones prohibiting cell phone use while driving--are difficult to enforce.  For another, it may be close to impossible for a driver to give such a berth on narrow roads, especially if there is oncoming traffic.  

Most important, though, I think that such laws are most useful after the fact because they provide "something you can ticket," in the words of Becky Callender, whose son was riding in a single file of cyclists on a rural road near Lansing  when he was struck by an SUV.  They are not a substitute for driver awareness of, and courtesy toward, cyclists.  But, I suppose, having such laws is better than not having them--or a poorly-designed bike lane.