Microburst

Wednesday's forecast predicted thunderstorms, and after a sunny humid day a rapid downpour descended on our neighbourhood in the afternoon. Later we learned that the next town over had experienced a microburst - an intense storm similar to a tornado, only with wind patterns in the opposite direction. Over 100 full grown trees were uprooted in the storm in the course of very little time. No one was hurt, but property was damaged.

The next morning I went on a ride and found the Minuteman Bikeway impassable, with huge toppled trees in close succession blocking the entire path. As municipal workers in neon vests surveyed the area, confused bicycle commuters wandered around looking for alternative routes without having to ride on the high-traffic main road which the Bikeway parallels.

The side streets were blocked. Municipal vehicles were gathering from all directions - those huge machines where you feed them pieces of tree and they mulch it up. Finally, I went on the main road and competed with a procession of buses in mid-day heat until my nerves had worn raw. Drivers were especially out of sorts that morning, behaving aggressively and honking at cyclists for simply being "in the way" - probably not realising that we had all been displaced from the adjacent bikeway and had nowhere else to be.

Riding under these conditions, I realised how spoiled I've gotten lately - forgetting how stressful cycling can be when drivers behave like this and there is no alternative route. I was getting honked at continuously for trying to take the lane. But as busses kept cutting me off and car doors swung open with abandon, taking the lane was the only safe option. Eventually a few of us formed a cluster: me, a woman in a yellow sundress on a cruiser, a teenager on a mountain bike, and an older man on a time trial bike. The cars went wild, but at least there was safety in numbers.

The pièce de résistance happened on my way home. I was already back in Cambridge and riding on a quiet MUP when around the bend a municipal car comes charging at me head-on, taking up the entire width of the path. The guy slammed his brakes when he saw me and I slammed mine, feeling a huge surge of adrenaline. We stopped within inches of each other and I had one of those not-quite-but-almost crashes that I am so talented at. I kept the bike from hitting the ground, in the process contorting my body unnaturally and twisting my elbow. Ouch. But who cares about a little ouch; I am just glad he did not run me over. We had words, if you can call it that. Me: "You could have killed me!" He: "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't see you coming!"

I suppose the take-away lesson here is to stay off the roads after natural disasters? Easy enough for someone doing a training ride, but what about those who commute that way? I don't think the city even announced anywhere that the Minuteway Bikeway was impassable, whereas they certainly would have announced it had a major road become unavailable to drivers. Maybe when there are more of us, things will be different. I hope so.

Failure to Yield and Crosswalk Design

In Somerville, MA we have this community path for bicyclists and pedestrians that stretches all the way to the neighbouring town of Arlington, grazing Cambridge along the way. The path is great, except that it is frequently interrupted by busy roads and the crossings can be challenging. We had this one particular interruption, where cyclists had to make a complicated series of turns and negotiate a major intersection in order to get from one stretch of the path to another. Then sometime last year, construction began at that intersection. Rumor had it they were making a crosswalk that would cut through the series of islands - a straight line connecting the disjointed stretches of community path. That is exactly what they did, and the new intersection was unveiled a couple of months ago. 

It's hard to capture the whole thing in photographs; it is vast and consists of 4 separate crosswalk segments. But the pictures above each show a chunk that should give you an idea of how it's designed. In 3 of the 4 segments there are traffic lights with clear red and green signals. And there is another small segment not visible here where there is just a crosswalk without a traffic light. In theory the design is great, because it creates a direct line of travel connecting the community path, without forcing cyclists to make an elaborate detour. In practice however, there is one big problem: Drivers don't yield. Some drivers make right turns on a red light at full speed without even checking whether anyone is in the crosswalk, others make U-turns on a red light, and others still simply run the red light altogether. In some instances the drivers obviously see me, but proceed anyway, forcing me to stop abruptly in the middle of the intersection or to speed up if I am already in their line of travel. 

Roughly half the time I go through this intersection, something like this happens - to the point where I absolutely do not trust it anymore. It's a shame that all this work was done, and drivers' failure to yield ruins it. It is also frightening that the crosswalks look so nice and friendly, while in reality it is quite dangerous. I cannot really think of a solution, but it's clear that something needs to change in the local drivers' mentalities in order for attempts to create decent, convenient infrastructure to be truly successful. The infrastructure itself is not always enough. 

14 Months Without a Car

We have been without a car since last December. The "anniversary" of this date was so unremarkable, that it came and went unnoticed. But I've had some requests to post a 1-year report about what it has been like, which made me realise it's already been longer than that. I want to make it clear that being without a car is not a political statement for us and is not wrapped up in our sense of identity. For that reason I do not use words such as "car-free" or "car-light," or any of the related terminology. We simply do not have a car, for the time being.

Living on the border of Somerville and Cambridge, MA, we are lucky to be in a location that happens to be convenient for getting around the Boston Metro area by bike. Before moving here 4 years ago, we lived in rural Northern New England - where we did a great deal of driving and each had a substantial vehicle with off-road and hauling capacity. As soon as we moved to Boston, we sold the larger of the two, because it was clear that keeping both was impractical. The Co-Habitant's car was sold, and mine was to become the shared car. However, what happened instead is that I simply stopped driving at that point entirely, preferring to get around on foot and via public transportation. When later I started riding a bike, that became my main mode of transport. I have not been behind the wheel of a motor vehicle since late 2007, and I even let my driver's license lapse for some time. But I still co-owned our shared car, and rode in it as passenger.

We used the shared car mainly to travel out of town and for trips that involved transporting or purchasing bulky items. The majority of everyday transportation we did by bike, simply because both of us found it more convenient. When the car broke down in late November 2010, we realised that we did not really feel like getting it fixed and preferred to make do without it instead. So that is what we did.

The winter of 2010-2011 was a brutal one, and interestingly getting through it was what cemented our decision. It snowed so much and so frequently, that we often relied on resources close to home - which made us realise that it is possible. If there was too much snow on the roads to cycle, there was a grocery store and pharmacy within walking distance. They may not be our preferred grocery store and pharmacy, but nonetheless they are there for us to simply walk to in case we needed milk at 10pm in a snowstorm. Further afield there are coffee shops, restaurants, a post office, and other destinations that could be reached on foot. The Co-Habitant could even walk to work if really necessary, though he had no problem cycling through snow. I could also walk or take public transportation. If anything, we felt that we had it easier that winter than drivers - who constantly complained about having to dig out and defrost their cars, and about the horrible driving conditions. A bike and a pair of winter boots require much less maintenance.

Once that winter was over, everything else was a piece of cake. Owning a car in Boston now seemed like a burden and inconvenience. How did we ever manage with all those fees and maintenance responsibilities? Not owning a car was so much easier, not to mention that we now magically had more money. And that's really all there was to it, as far as everyday stuff was concerned.

That is not to say that we never used a car. We still occasionally needed to travel to remote out of town locations and to transport bulky items. And, ironically, I occasionally had to transport bikes in various states of assembly for Lovely Bicycle related projects. But the key word here is "occasionally." Once we got the hang of zipcar and car rental, using these services in addition to the occasional taxi proved to be sufficient for us to not feel that we needed to actually own a car. The main limitation of zipcar, is that you cannot always get one on the spot, and we tend to do things spontaneously rather than plan everything out carefully. But over time we got better at planning and also became more savvy/psychic about zipcar rental. After a couple of initial glitches, it has mostly been okay. I even moved into my art studio with the help of a zipcar pickup truck, which went very well with fairly minimal planning.

Our only frustration so far has been with the public transportation system. Without exaggeration, the T (subway) has gotten stuck between stations most of the times I've taken it over the past year, making me late for appointments. The buses are habitually late by as much as 20 minutes, to the point that the bus timetable is not meaningful. The buses are also very full and taking fragile items on board is not practical. The commuter rail runs infrequently and not at the times we seem to need it, so that going somewhere via commuter rail can mean having to spend an entire day at the destination instead of the 1.5 hours we need to spend there. Also, many of the commuter rail stops are not handicap-accessible - which also means not bike-friendly, since they have these super long and narrow staircases leading down to the platform from overpasses. Whenever I criticise the MBTA, inevitably someone gets angry, as if public transportation is some holy thing no matter how good or bad it is and I should be thankful for it. But with all due respect, having used public transportation successfully in cities where it works, the MBTA is a disgrace in comparison. I cannot pretend to be thankful for the frustration and wasted time it causes me nearly every time I attempt to use it, and I am certain that it is the reason why more people in the greater Boston area do not feel comfortable without a car. 

MBTA frustrations aside, we did manage to go on a 2-week vacation via bike plus commuter rail over the summer, and it was a lot more fun than renting a car would have been. No traffic jams, no gas station stops, no looking for parking - just the freedom of bikes. We brought all the stuff we would normally have taken with us too, including two weeks worth of clothing, books, laptops, and basic camera equipment. It's amazing how much you can stuff into heavy-duty bicycle luggage if you try. 

When we first discussed the idea of giving up the car, it was important for both of us not to feel as if being without it would be a struggle, or would limit our freedom. And over a year later, I can say that at no point did we feel that way. At this stage of our lives not having a car gives us more freedom, not less. We do not miss the responsibilities and the spendings that come with owning, parking, fueling and maintaining a vehicle in the Boston Metro area. We also simply never talk about it anymore. We neither lament our carless state, nor do we congratulate ourselves for it; it's just become one less issue to worry about. 

By no means is this narrative intended to be an "if I can do it, you can!" sort of thing. Our circumstances happen to be conducive to getting along without a car, but others' circumstances might not be. There is also no question in my mind that at some point in the future we will have a car again, and I will even drive it - since my ideal place to live is in the countryside in the middle of nowhere. In the end,  it's not about fixating on the car as an object - be it an object of desire or an object of evil - but about deciding what works best for improving your quality of life. Car ownership for its own sake has become such a given, that it may simply not occur to some people that there are circumstances under which they might be better off (i.e. waste less time, be in a better mood, have more disposable income, feel better) without a private vehicle. When I lived in Vienna, I once asked an elderly socialite - the wife of a wealthy politician - whether she and her husband owned a car. She cringed and fanned herself. "Goodness no dear, sitting in traffic is so undignified! I take the trolley and I love to walk. For me, these are life's luxuries." The concept of luxury is, after all, relative.

Did Not Wearing a Helmet Save Gene Hackman's Life?

film still via the gothamist

As some may know, 81-year-old actor Gene Hackman was hit by a truck while riding his bicycle in Florida last week. As the media has made a point to note again and again and again, Mr. Hackman was not wearing a helmet during the incident. It is now known that Mr. Hackman has survived the collision.

So... Does this mean that not wearing a helmet saved Gene Hackman's life?

Don't answer that, I know what you are going to say: My God, of course not. That would be absurd. What an insane conclusion. Right? Well, don't worry, I agree. Of course the fact that a helmetless cyclist survived a collision does not mean that this favourable outcome resulted from them not having worn a helmet. An accurate way to describe the situation is that the two facts coincided: He was not wearing a helmet, and he survived the collision. As everyone who has studies the scientific method or statistic knows, correlation does not imply causation.

I am glad we are on the same page now about the absurdity of implying that Gene Hackman's lack of helmet saved his life. Because if you agree about this, then surely you will see the double-standard of finding it entirely logical when helmeted cyclists who survive collisions report that wearing a helmet saved their life. It is a powerful emotional argument, but logically, statistically, and scientifically, it is erroneous for the same reasons it would be erroneous to say that not wearing a helmet saved Gene Hackman's life. If a cyclist wears a helmet and they emerge from a collision alive, that implies correlation, not causation.

Bicycle helmets have some protective properties under some conditions, but these properties are limited and do not extend to colliding with moving motor vehicles. Bicycle helmets also have some drawbacks, including their ability to cause rotational injuries. After reading lots and lots and lots of studies (the studies themselves, and not the media's digested, distorted, misquoted and sensetionalised versions of the studies), I believe that the evidence pertaining to bicycle helmet effectiveness is mixed and inconclusive. And this is talking about effectiveness itself, without even delving to the larger, social implications of the helmet debate. We are all scared of getting hurt while riding our bikes, and we would all like there to be a magic device or talisman that makes cycling safe. But it is erroneous and even dangerous to over-attribute protective qualities to the bicycle helmet. Personal accounts of surviving collisions are tremendously affecting, both for the person recounting their experience and for the listener or reader. And I by no means wish to undermine these accounts. But it is also important to recognise that as human beings, we are "wired" to be more susceptible to affecting narratives. Things that are not in fact logical make sense to us under emotionally charged conditions, and "a helmet saved my life" is a textbook example of that.

Be angry at me if you must for the title of this post and the things I write here. But also try to understand my point. Accepting emotional, subjective beliefs as evidence does not actually contribute to safety. It only contributes to a false sense of security, to hysteria, to witch hunts, and to the media now making it a point to state whether a cyclist hit by a motor vehicle was wearing a helmet or not, thus normalising the "blame the victim" mentality in reports of cyclist deaths and injuries. How did we let this happen? That is something we ought to think about very carefully.

Drivers are Not a Different Breed

I have been reading some bicycle blog posts lately where the authors describe feeling betrayed when their non-cycling friends say something nasty about cyclists - you know, the kind of thing a clueless and self-entitled driver might say, but certainly not a friend who happens to be a driver. I mean, they're different, right? Those drivers who cut us off and shout at us are bad people, whereas our friends are good?

Problem is that this difference is fictional. After all, each of those nasty drivers is also someone's dear friend. As hard as it may be to believe, they are not usually "bad" outside the context of being behind the wheel. Likewise, just because someone is our friend does not mean they are incapable of thinking or doing things that would outrage us. We can disagree on issues and never know it until that issue comes up, and my experience has been that cycling is one of those issues - right up there with abortion. Once I began cycling for transportation, I learned fairly quickly not to discuss it with friends, co-workers or relatives who are non-cyclists unless I wanted these conversations to turn into heated debates, or all out fights.

Recently a friend and her husband were visiting Boston, and I met them for dinner at an outdoor cafe. I knew that they were both avid recreational cyclists, so I let my guard down and was speaking to them about bicycles - the pros and cons of different roadbikes, that sort of thing. I was feeling good that finally here was someone from my "real life" I could discuss bikes with. Then some cyclists rode down the street past us and the husband shook his head. "Those idiots are going to get themselves killed." I was confused. "What... Why?" He then explained how stupid it is when cyclists "think they are cars" and cycle "right on the road, without bike lanes or anything." "I hope you don't do that!" he added as my friend nodded. Turns out there is this huge national park where they live, and that is where they ride their bikes - unless it is an organised charity ride, which is the only time they'll go on the road. Not only are they drivers the rest of the time, but having exposure to cycling has done nothing to make them empathise with transportational cyclists. We could have spent the rest of our meal fighting, but instead I changed the subject - it wasn't worth it to me. After dinner they took a taxi to their hotel, and I walked around the corner to where my bike was locked up, then rode home "as if I were a car." Those drivers who hate cyclists could be anyone - our friends, our relatives, and even, apparently, other cyclists. People are people, ever ready to feel frustration and annoyance.

Anti-Dooring Decals in Taxi Cab

I went out with some friends last night and we took a taxi to our destination. Decals like the one shown above were affixed to each passenger window. Have you seen them before? I have not, so this was a pleasant surprise. A taxi cab company (or driver) who wants to make sure their passengers do not accidentally "door" a cyclist! Of course this is as much for their protection as it is for the protection of the bicyclist: I am sure no taxi driver wants to be sued, prosecuted, or even held up waiting for the police to arrive in the event their vehicle is involved in a serious dooring incident. But that does not make it any less good for cyclists. Placed directly in the passenger's field of vision as they reach for the door, it seems to me these are bound to be effective. What if all motor vehicles came with them de facto, like the "objects are closer than they appear" decals on side mirrors?...