Swinging Back

"I'm going to be swinging my arms like this, and if any part of you should happen to get in the way, that's YOUR problem!" - Bart Simpson

On July 3, 2010 Martin Joel Erzinger, a fund manager for Smith and Barney, ran into visiting New York cyclist Dr. Steven Milo with his Mercedes in Vail, CO. Rather than stopping like a responsible citizen, Erzinger drove home and called--wait for it--the Mercedes Benz body shop to come out and take a look at his wounded car. Meanwhile, Dr. Milo lay on the side of the road with a broken knee, shoulder, spine and brain damage. At least he was in a scenic place to bleed to death. In true salt in the gaping head wound fashion, the Vail District Attorney just announced that they're going to drop felony charges against Erzinger in favor of 2 misdemeanor traffic charges. If, like me, you're a math person then please allow me break it down for you math style otherwise your logic minded brain may struggle to digest this:

Nearly killing someone + Cowardice<=Broken Tail Light + Speeding

Brain damage and cowardice traded for a slap on the wrist because of the clout and power of Erzinger's employer and deep pocket local connections to the well heeled in Vail.  Very well done indeed. Apparently big time money managers don't have to play by any of the rules: they can help muddle up Wall Street wrecking our economy and taking our bail out dollars and they can run you off the road and drive off without a second thought...that is unless their precious beemer is somehow tarnished. I for one am planning a career change. I wanna be one of these guys too...it seems so glamorous and thoughtless; like watching Jersey Shore in your underwear all day while eating caviar.

If you doubt me and think that I'm making up such a fanciful fairy tale of blatant stupidity, ignorance and favoritism, please feel free to check out the Vail Daily article. If you check out the link and are as 'mildly annoyed' as I was with the DA's disregard for our injustice system in favor of padding pockets and coddling his fellow rich neighbors, then sign the petition on this site asking that the felony charges not be dropped. Some are even calling for a boycott of the Vail TT stage of the upcoming Quiznos Pro Challenge race as a means of sending a message to the Vail fatcats and bike hating attorneys that this type of under-the-rug-sweeping is not to be tolerated. While I've been to Vail many times and have ridden there on several of those visits I have to say I'm on the fence with this strategy. Vail is a great place to ride both around town on their many paths as well as through the surrounding mountain side trails and mountain pass peak climbs. People in Vail (the real people in Vail not the fake cardboard ones cut out and placed in the windows of $2.5 million dollar vacation homes to make them look occupied in the 'off season') really love their bikes, skis and outdoor environs. They're not the type who'd support a bike bashing, car fixing, head wound causing, felony charge dropping attorney and his havoc causing money manager sidekick. I know from reading some of the forums and comment boards related to this story that the locals are pissed. I too share in their pissed-off-ed-ness.

But this tragedy brings up stark reminders of the other countless examples of the law siding with the driver and not the victim in these car vs. bike encounters, like the story of Kevin Flock who was killed by Aaron Stapleton a Virginia Army Recruiter.  Stapleton got off completely with similar wrist slapping (only to be caught driving recklessly 30 days later after running through a fence)...oh yeah Flock, he's still dead at least according to Google.  Under no other circumstances can a person do catastrophic and negligent physical harm to another person and face the prospect of easily getting off quite like running over a cyclist with your car...unless of course you're Dick Cheney and you shoot your hunting buddy in the face. As I've said before, our justice system somehow seems to sympathize with, or at least relate to, the trials and complications facing motorists; it 'understands' how such accidents can happen. Silly cyclists shouldn't be on the roads anyway, they're dangerous places what with all the reckless cars driving about on them. When a woman in a large SUV ran over an 11 year old girl riding her bike in her north metro neighborhood she got off because the girl was going the wrong way. It doesn't matter that the driver was on the phone and not paying attention: the stupid wrong way riding child apparently got what she deserved not 3 blocks from her home. What happened to the postal worker who killed Shahram Moghadamnia on 32nd 2.5 miles from my home? Not much from what I could find, and the family's case is bogged down in civil court (its been 2 years); that sounds like good old American justice doesn't it? We all understand, accidents can happen, and yet where's the responsibility for owning one's mistakes should the accident cause severe injury to the victim or be the result of negligence?

In Erzinger's case he didn't even stop. With all his money, clout, professional skills, he couldn't even stop to man up to his actions. Our money craven society worships Erzinger's business accumen, financial achievement, economic impact and monetary value, and holds him up as an exemplar of the great American capitalistic ideal and yet this guy's a coward and a loser...and in my opinion not worth the spit or piss it would take to put him out if he were on fire...ok so now I'm just ranting in quite a childish manner and to no real end. So to my starting point, a-la Bart Simpson, and in homage to the spirit of the great American, bullying, motorist public, I'm going to continue the childishness by swinging my arms wildly when walking around in public. If I happen to hit someone then it won't be my fault...cause everyone has now been duly warned. I'm swinging. I'm swinging with purpose but not intent and so come what may...Maybe when swinging I'll be distracted. Maybe I'll have an important meeting to go to, or I'll be late for coffee with Buffy and Bobo.  Sure I might cause a black eye or two or some bruises...deal with it. You shouldn't be walking where I'm swinging anyway. That's essentially how it works right? Cyclist you've been warned: cycling is a dangerous and foolish activity to do around motorists. Cars are big and comfy and drivers are distracted and in a hurry and self important, so if you happen to get hit then its YOUR problem. Well, we'll see who hits who first.

Farewell Sunshine

This afternoon I greeted the final rays of daylight savings light with the same knowing of one who knows their last days are nigh. To add insult to injury, the fleeting sunshine carried with it a warmth and comfort more akin to a May evening than an early November one. I concurred with Kate’s sentiment entirely, I could kept on riding as well. Instead, as I climbed the driveway after a long, meandering, detour filled, ride home tonight I turned and looked towards the growing shadows all around me and heading inside turned my back on one more summer. This is a bittersweet time of year. It marks the end of what is generally a hectic season of activity (riding or otherwise) and ushers in the season of long nights inside reflecting and relaxing. On the other hand it marks the onset of a 4 month stint of cold, dark rides home, the roadway illuminated solely by the passing lights of cars and the small lumen output of my CatEye headlight. There’s something isolating and saddening about riding home on a chilly 32 degree night in the dark. The prospect is not something to anticipate with enthusiasm or relish. I enjoy being seen clearly while riding. I enjoy seeing clearly while riding. I don’t exactly enjoy feeling my way dumbly in the dark. But there’s no use hoping against the inevitable; its time to ‘fall back’. So, popping the top off my festive, snowy bike bottle cap on my New Belgium Two Below, I toast the fading light of summer; all hope, warmth and memory saved within their diminishing glow. Here’s to another summer put to rest, and a fine one at that.

Personal Space

Let’s talk about a very touchy subject called:  personal space. Outside the scope of certain friends and intimate relations it is generally considered rude in American culture to 'get up in one's grill' in the parlance of our times, or otherwise invade one's personal space. Even without direct contact, the sheer presence of one averse to the fundamental understandings of proximal relationships can make an otherwise normal occurrence very uncomfortable. The close talker, the casual shoulder toucher, the close passer, hand grabber, awkward chest looker...these are all creepy intrusions into the private sphere of personal space. Unless you're standing on a crowded bus, elevator or playing rugby people generally respect boundaries and try not to engage in too much unsolicited bumping, grinding, touching or encroaching.

So with such a well understood concept governing our interactions with strangers walking down the street or pushing our carts at the store, why then do we struggle to apply such courtesies to the road; its a mystery to me. Let's play a little Rorschach style game and try and figure this mystery out if we can.

What do you see here?

Clearly it’s a sign that says “Bike Route”, but what could be meant by this? It might mean…that the designated roadway is--a route for bikes. This would then mean that bikes could be routed along it, which thusly could also mean that people could actually ride their bikes on this surface (and in fact are encouraged to do so.) So if you happen across such a bike propelled by such a person on such a surface designated with such signage, then you should perhaps do your best not to run them over and in missing them narrowly show your disgust at their very presence on the same plane of existance as you with your colorful hand gesturing.

So now, how about this one?

This is a trickier one, while both symbolic and declarative its not entirely specific. “Ahead” is a very vague term in the grander sense of the entire space time continuum. But unless you are Steven Hawking (or his clone), then this sign means that BIKES have a LANE...AHEAD....generally meaning right freakin' there. This would indeed be separate from the normal general use lanes of traffic commonly seen on either sides of the dashed yellow line.

As in this picture for example:

Now clearly the symbols and copious use of paint show us the exact distinction of spaces for use by bicycles (hint:  it’s the one with the picture painted on the ground) and the other general use traffic lane (hint:  the one without the picture of the bike on the ground). Now you might think that such a sophisticated species with unwritten social mores around personal space would appreciate the actual designation of separate physical spaces as outlined by these markings. And yet not everyone seems to get this. Take this example:

Clearly law is not enough if the business people of the law cannot seem to unravel and decipher its tangled intricacies. How can I expect the average Joe to know the difference? Clearly the half dozen or more Joe's on my ride home from work today really struggled with the concept about as much as the professional law enforcement types depicted above. Well I suppose that’s the crux of it. Taken as a whole, the Bike Route, Bike Lane, Bike Pictures and Solid White Painted Line SHOULD suffice it to say to the general motoring public: STAY OUT OF MY DAMNED PERSONAL SPACE and yet that seems to challenge some who see this congruence of pictures and paint and think: passing lane, turning lane, parking lane, u-turn lane, my lane. Well guess what, its actually MY LANE, so its my space when I’m occupying it. That means get your close talking, shoulder touching, close passing, hand grabbing, chest looking, bike lane driving ass out of it!

I'm a Person for Bikes...Are You?

So I found my way to the People for Bikes website, an organization looking to build support for bike related needs at the national political level by collecting e-signatures for 1 million bicycle supporting individuals. Their major aim is to create demonstrative clout for lobbying local, state and federal legislators for enhanced funding and support for cycling related transportation projects. To accomplish this goal, essentially all they ask is that you sign their online pledge for support.  They don't give many more specifics than that, but at face value it definitely is a worthwhile effort. Below is some pasted info from their website as well as a link. If you're feeling inclined to be 1 in a million, then complete their online pledge.

"Every day, millions of Americans like us ride for their health, for the environment, for their communities, and for the pure joy of bicycling. But until now, only a tiny fraction of riders have stood up to help improve bicycling in America.

Peopleforbikes.org is going to change all that. They're building a national movement with the clout and influence to get things done. That means promoting bike riding on an individual level, but also sending a unified message to our elected leaders, the media, and the public that bicycling should have their full support."

Check out their great new website to take a pledge for biking and learn how you can help:
http://www.peopleforbikes.org

News Flash... and Random Aside

Below is a link to what may very well be the best story about cycling of all stories about cycling ever written. Now some of you skeptics might be saying to yourselves, "Surely not. Think of Lance's comeback from cancer tour victories. Lemond's gloriously narrow TT win over Fignon. Any of the cannibal or badger's celebrated exploits in the heyday of cycling nicknames. Or better yet, more stories of Spanish riders testing positive for eating bad food and Saran Wrap."  Well to those who would doubt I only suggest you follow the link and decide for yourselves. Perhaps I'm wrong...but I doubt it.

Greatest Bike Story Every Told

On an entirely unrelated note...to the greatest bike story ever told that is...I would assert that while Volvo may indeed make the safest vehicles on the planet, these feats of Swedish engineering perfection attract some of the unsafest of drivers.  That's an opinion of course, I'm still doing my homework on the figures but I'd say I'm definitely on to something. If you need empirical evidence for your own then by all means get on a bike and ride around the Denver Highlands around rush hour...in the bike lane...preferably with children about (Those Volvo's are magnets for children, I saw a commercial on it once.  And I almost saw some serious magnetic power this afternoon but not quite in the manner the makers of Volvo may have intended.)  Apparently the 'safeness' feature of this guy's Volvo must have been an option he decided he didn't need; in favor of a better stereo, wood paneling, a talking map or something important like that. Maybe Volvo needs a disclaimer at the end of their ad with the taxes titles and fees gibberish. Something like, "Safety implied. Not standard for morons."

Day 1: Kansas Colorado Border to Fowler

Miles traveled: 117 (+3 miles of tooling around Fowler and such)
Ride Time: around 7:25 (I rode around Fowler for a bit and forgot to check the time)
Average speed: 15.25 (I guess, see above)

The crowd of morning “regulars” at J.R.’s in Holly barely noticed the couple walk into the store; guy dressed in a bike jersey wearing socks and sandals (very German of him) and his female counterpart dressed in a blue merino wool sweater and jeans smartly rolled to Capri length. A pair of thumbs couldn’t get more sore unless you hit them with a hammer. The morning’s conversation carried on; so-and-so got a new Guernsey someone was wrestling with a dry patch in his hay, another discussing his winter wheat which is already coming up. I imagine outsiders typically come in, make their purchases and then leave sleepy Holly, Colorado in their dust. The couple today however sat down in an empty booth, and it didn’t take long for one of the regulars, an older fellow in a camo ball cap and flannel shirt, who’s contribution to conversation earlier centered on dove hunting, inquired about the words on the young man’s jersey.

“Share the road? Don’t you get scared with all them cars on the road. I know how people drive.” And with that the thread of conversation for the regulars, conversant on topics pertaining to weather, agriculture, field sport and other rural affairs, turned instead to cycling. “If I were to want to ride more than the next block I’d have to get into shape. Round is a shape, but its not the kind that’s going to help me anywhere,” chimed a younger fellow who soon left to tend to other business. Another offered insight on distances, the man in the camouflage hat an anecdote about a new story about bikes. Apparently a high value bike relates well to the cost of a high value shotgun. No one entreated a dismissive remark. No one suggested cyclists should get off the road, or that cyclists don’t pay taxes. They were interested and welcoming.

When I told folks about my plans to ride across Colorado many offered missives about the eastern plains; about how flat it is, how boring it would be. Well I fancy myself of a pseudo agrarian at heart (or at least a wannabe) so the trip through farms, fields and rural landscapes was actually quite an enjoyable one for me. I’ve walked into what has to be several dozen eateries in the Denver area and probably could count on one hand the number of times anyone has struck up a conversation with me. Perhaps I give off an air of distance or aloofness…or perhaps there’s something to say about old-fashioned courtesy.

I certainly appreciated the slower pace of life, and driving, out here on the eastern plains. I could tell an out of state plate coming up behind me just based on the sound of the gunning engine (that excludes some of the local grain trucks…my idyllic pastoral scene really took a turn for the negative choking down the dust of passing grain harvest for miles.) On my way west today I met a number of very friendly and interesting individuals who stopped to chat about my ride. Everyone I spoke to about my trip wished me well and a safe journey. Its nice to have complete strangers be empathetic and concerned about your well being. I talked to some folks at the visitor center in Lamar, which is a beautifully restored train depot. I talked to a fellow and his daughter outside a convenience store in Las Animas. He too assured me he couldn’t ride even a block, and when I suggested practicing, he said he couldn’t practice either. But he was more than intrigued with my bike, the gear shift leavers on the bar ends, the number of speeds, the speedometer and my clipless pedals. I met a biker (motor that is) outside of another convenience store in La Junta. He was extremely interested in my plans, practically down to the mileage of each day. When traveling by bike one can’t help but be slow, especially when laden with over 50lbs of gear. So the going is slow. But it seems that many of the people I met today weren’t in a hurry either. They wanted to stop, take a moment from their day and spend it chatting with me. They were almost moving at bike speed too, even though not on bikes themselves.

Ok, shifting gears to some of the specifics of the day. We got up at 5:00 and quickly showered, loaded the car and got on the road for the 30 mile trek to the border. We stopped in Holly to eat and then were quickly on the state line and prepping for the ride. It was hard to see Kate and Bean leave both because I know I will miss them and that their departure signified the solitude in which I now find myself in on the road. I made pretty good time with a bit of headwind into Lamar. I stopped, fueled up, visited the visitor center and then was on the road and enjoying a nice cross to tail wind. I made much better time at this point and enjoyed the scenery more than the beginning. I felt really good until I got close to Las Animas. The heat was really on at this point and I was getting a bit fatigued and hungry. I stopped for lunch and fluids. This helped get me going again and I felt strong for a while in route to La Junta. About 8 miles out of La Junta the shoulder all but disappeared. This unnerved me and I pushed the pace to be done with it. Pushed to the point of exhaustion I rolled into La Junta and took another break. Now facing the 29 mile home stretch I got going. I did well but had to stop in the shade of some trees just outside Manzanola to cool down and hydrate. The last 9 miles to Fowler I was in ’the zone’. Not the stupendous, performance zone: the tired and beyond caring about much zone. The last 9 miles kind of flew by thankfully and my spirits lifted when I found the Fowler city limits and a Loaf and Jug to get ice water. I’m now camped in Fowler at kind of a crazy place. Its an RV campground with a tent area, run by a crazy old codger and his wife. Very nice folks but kind of in their own world…which includes two semi shaved Pekinese and a lot of old, disassembled farm implements. I got a cold shower (by choice) ate a hearty and very manly dinner (convenience store Dinty Moore) and then went over to the Fowler High School for some Friday night lights. I sat on the bench and cheered the good plays, texted Kate and watched the crowd root for the home team. I rooted for Fowler too, my temporary home for tonight. Starting to yawn I’m now back at camp, typing this update before hopefully what will be a nice, well deserved rest.

Day 1, ’The Long Day’, in the books.

At the border: The Grand Depart

A very welcome sign

Visitor's Center in Lamar, CO

Fowler at last

Fireworks at the Fowler HS football game

Lookout Day 4: No one to lookout for

Technically when I left my house this afternoon for Lookout Day 4 rain was falling. Fortunately I ignored my better judgment as the ride up this afternoon, despite the cold, humid air was really enjoyable. Upon reaching the pillars I found the road still wet but drying, and looking up towards the mountain top the clouds loomed but remained content to simply look ominous without actually dropping any rain. This happy twist of fate left a wide open road before me with nary a bicycle or car in sight. It wasn’t until the mid section of the mountain that I finally saw other cyclists. It surprised me how many cyclists were actually out on the mountain in the face of the cold wind and dampness, but the number barely amounted to half of the number on the road on Monday or Tuesday. And the absence of vehicle traffic was almost eerie, as if at some point zombies were going to appear around the corner waiting to eat my brains. A couple cars passed me on their way down, but I was almost to the top before one passed me coming up the mountain. This is almost unheard of given the norm for Lookout.

As I’ve said before, Lookout attracts a myriad number of people to its recreational offerings. Today, without any of said hordes in sight, it was easy to reflect on just how many people actually use the mountain...and how nice it was to not have to share it with them for a change. Here’s a rundown on the list of Usual Lookout Suspects…if you see some of these folks you just may want to Lookout!

Motorists:

• There’s a fair amount of local traffic up from Golden to the neighborhoods atop Lookout Mountain. I feel for these folks as their commute has to be hell. You can easily spot the locals, they generally handle their vehicles confidently and know how to share the road.
• Contrast this with folks who are heading up the road for the first time; usually readily identifiable by the non-Colorado plates. These drivers crawl up the mountain about as fast as the 50 year old Triple Bypass cyclists training for their annual bike holiday. The tourists are even worse on the descents where they initiate their turns poorly and ride their brakes until they melt. Getting stuck behind these stinky rubber smelling minivans (usually minivans) is the worst. Getting oneself unstuck often requires a bit of daring.
• Along similar lines as the tourists are the Driving School kids. I don’t know what it is about Lookout but it attracts Driving School teens like the latest New Moon film. I had a car pass me on Monday all but brushing my elbow, and I looked over to see a driving school instructor frantically reaching across to grab the wheel, thankfully intervening to prevent my untimely death. God knows I fully appreciate the long arc that is the learning curve…but why does it have to the same curve where I’m riding my damn bike.
• Then there’s the Tokyo drifters. These are probably the worst and most reckless of the motorists who use Lookout. These douche bags drive their Subaru/Volkswagen/Audi/BMW/Mitsubishi chainsaw-sounding pieces of crap up the mountain at unnecessarily excessive speeds. Playing out some scene from Too Fast Too Furious, they corner erratically, accelerate in an obnoxiously loud manner and obviously have nothing better to do with their time. If a 4 minute Lookout Peak climb is all they need to toss their rocks off, then I feel for the hoochie mama’s they’re often toting around with them. "Ain't my car so cool baby?"...." Oh yeah its real cool baby."
• Last but not least are the big tough truckers. "Did you question how tough I am?  Well I'll just run you down to show you. Yeah those are giant steel balls hanging from my hitch."  Almost as dangerous as the Tokyo Drifters, these guys run their gigantor trucks up narrow mountain roads and get off on forcing everyone else (or generally just cyclists) out of their way. Usually discernable by the characteristic growl of throaty, diesel engines, its best to hear them coming and hug the shoulder.

Motorcyclists:

• Old school Harley riders love Lookout, and generally they cruise up to the top, kitted out in leather and frequently toting some chica on the back of their ride. Lookout offers a nice route up to some of the biker bars in the foothills...and I think they typically pick a different route to head back when finished. Generally, the Harley riders aren’t in a particular hurry as its better to allow badassness to marinate…you don’t want to spoil the effect by rushing around like a jackass Tokyo Drifter.
• On the other hand, take a Tokyo Drifter and put them on a crotch rocket and you get suicidal speed and inconsideration revving at 60,000RPM. Usually traveling in bands of 3 or 4, these pricks like to ride fast and apparently don’t care who’s around the corner in front of them when they’re doing it. Even though it makes me somewhat of a sicko, I dream of a Tokyo Drifter meeting its 2 Wheeled Compatriot around a corner one day: the carnage would be horrifically karmic.
• The last crew of motorized, two wheeled brethren are the Orange County chopper super fans. Often indistinguishable from the Harley riders, these guys generally command their vehicles with a similar devil may care spirit as that of the crotch masters…I mean riders…I mean crotch riding masters. These guys are usually never in leathers, preferring to ride helmet-less in muscle shirts and jeans. They generally can be counted on to throttle their glasspack straight pipes just as they fly past.

Thrill Seekers:

• Lookout attracts legions of thrill seekers: para and hang gliders, downhill luge riders and equally psychotic long board skateboarders. I’ve seen a guy going down Lookout on a unicycle. I’ve almost been hit by guys in full motorcycle race leathers and helmets going down the hill at ridiculous speeds on skateboards. On a sunny day one can be assured of seeing at least one hang glider: I saw one take a really nasty landing into the hill on Saturday. Early in the fall one can sometimes see the School of Mines cross country ski team practicing on the road on their odd rollerblade/ski contraptions. There are climbers who park along the road and hike down to some of the craggy cliffs along HWY 6 on the north side of the mountain. I respect all of these wackos although I may not understand why they do what they do. Lookout is a thrill seekers paradise...if you've got to be home by 4:30 and can't get to Moab or somewhere really cool.  With the exception of some careless long boarders, most of them keep to their lane and don’t try to run you over.

Pedestrians:

• For some strange reason people like to walk, jog or run along Lookout Mountain Road. There are a large number of trails running up and along the mountain, so often you’ll see folks wandering on the road trying to connect up with one of these.

And then there are cyclists…

• Racers: the racers love Lookout like flies to honey or Cadel Evans to one day race victories. They do intervals, repeats, high cadence practice: every racer’s got a ‘workout’ in mind. There’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re putting in a great Lookout effort, only to get passed by some guy on a steel framed cross bike just out to ‘stretch his legs.’ The racers generally climb with authority and descend with some serious skill, capable of banking some of the turns well in excess of 40 mph. What the crotch masters have in fancy helmets and horsepower, the racer makes up for in riding the rails down hill on a thumb’s width of rubber, cornering at nearly the same speeds with nothing but spandex and a helmet for protection. The only thing better for a racer is repeat day, when you get to do it more than once!
• Wannabe racers: these guys love Lookout too but often lack the mastery of it to avoid hitting the wall before the top. Generally you can spot one of these guys easily because they’re hammering the bottom steeps WAAAYYYY too hard to be sustainable. Anyone breathing heavy in the first mile is going to be near death by the 4th.
• Mountain bikers: most of these riders are just trying to get to the trail. Occasionally, like a deer who wanders into a suburban neighborhood, the mountain biker finds himself on the road in between trails. I always feel sorry for them having to haul all that weight up the road, even with their low gearing. It just doesn’t seem right.
• Triple Bypass Aficionados: these are generally 50+ year old riders wearing their Triple Bypass jersey from 1997, training for the coming year’s edition. They’re generally strong albeit slow and often inappropriately dressed for the conditions (read: overdressed for all conditions.) For many of these riders this will be their training for the Triple until Squaw Pass thaws out, at which point they’ll gravitate from Lookout to Squaw where they can again ride their bikes in 3 layers of clothing without suffocating to death.
• Bike Tourists and Commuters: I’ve seen a handful of loaded up bike tourists and commuters on Lookout. I have to remind myself that they generally have low gearing, however hauling all that crap up Lookout is impressive even if you are in your 24X27.
• Everyone else…fixed gear riders, recumbent bikes, penny farthings you name it, you could easily see one on Lookout.

So on any given Saturday you take a spattering of each of these groups and throw them all together on 4.5 miles of curvy, winding road. On an ordinary day the crowds don’t even factor in, the ride itself is fantastic without stressing everyone else out there with you. On a day like today however, in the absence of just about all of them, it really sunk in how great a ride Lookout really is and how enjoyable it is to have it to oneself for a change. I don’t mind sharing, but sometimes its nice to be selfish and not share but instead ride right down the middle of the road.

"We Are Traffic"

Today I pulled up to the light at Federal and 14th and chatted with a rider about broken glass on the path just south of the intersection. In his 50’s, outfitted in shorts, nylon jacket and riding a mountain bike with slick tires, rear rack and double panniers, he was heading downtown this morning. Other than his frustration at the insensitivity and rudeness of others, he seemed to be in high spirits. Yesterday I pulled up to the light at 17th and Federal and exchanged pleasantries with a fixed gear rider on the topic of my Surly frame, which lasted the following two blocks until we headed in different directions. He indicated that he has been considering getting a Long Haul Trucker frame to build up for touring and was curious about the weight and quality of the stock components. These types of exchanges are not uncommon when cycling. I’ve never had someone say good morning to me while driving but when riding it happens quite frequently. My most social interactions with other motorists (on the positive side at least) only occur when I’m driving my Vanagon and I pass another one: the other driver almost always waves.

And like the cult of Happy Vanagon Drivers, with the weather finally proving to be reliably pleasant, bicyclists are out in mass and generally seem to be enjoying themselves immensely. The other day I passed three riders heading up 20th on my way in to work. I almost always see bicyclist on the way home, usually in route to or from the quality hill climbing around Golden. In the morning I now see several riders around work navigating the mess of RTD construction detours which have the Platte River Trail routed through the neighborhood. Most people seem very pleased to be out riding and it is not uncommon to get a “Hello”, “Good Morning”, a simple nod of acknowledgement, if not a full on conversation even if just for the cycle of a stoplight.

I don’t begrudge this mass of fair-weather new riders, even the one’s who use these fine days as an excuse to once again emerge from hibernation to plague the rest of us with their poor bike handling, traffic navigation and riding skills. I wish more folks saw the feasibility and practicality of riding throughout the winter season, but in any case it is good to see so many people out on their bikes: even the tools and douchebags. There is something about being in the company of other cyclists that represents a kindred spirit of sorts and makes one feel a little less alone on the road. In Jeff Mapes book, Pedaling Revolution: How Cyclists Are Changing American Cities, he discusses how safety for cyclists improves as a result of an increased presence on public roadways. The central contention is that it is not necessarily improved bike lanes, road ways or signage which will ultimately make roads safer for cyclists, it is increased numbers. The more riders who take to the streets for recreation, sport or travel purposes, the greater the presence cyclists have in terms of contributing to the natural flow of traffic. One bicyclist is an exception and easily regarded as an annoyance by motorists, whereas dozens if not hundreds of cyclists become an equally substantial component of road volume as vehicles and traffic. For examples of how this plays out in reality one need look no further than European cities in Belgium or the Netherlands.

While there is certainly value to being unique or exceptional, there is some level of comfort derived from being part of the group. Previously, I compared cyclists to wolves in the sense that a wolf needs its pack for protection and survival. The more riders we have in the fold the stronger our pack and greater our presence and legitimacy amongst other users of the road. So to that end I am glad to see other bikes on the road. It has been a long, cold winter riding alone and the extra company is a welcome change of pace. And that even extends to those two guys out for their “training ride” the other day who blatantly blew the stop sign by my work and nearly ran me down as I, who had stopped by the way, was starting to turn left. I’m glad you’re out riding your bikes with me…even if I called you illiterate douche bags and wanted to beat your wannabe, poser asses with my U-lock. Its nothing but brotherly love, honest.

Slow News Day, Bikes Make 'News' Twice

Must have been a slow day at 9News today as there were 2 bike related stories on the site today. The first one talked about Denver's efforts to promote safe cycling routes by spray painting arrows on the street (see Sharrows story here.)  The second story talked about Denver's new bike sharing program called Bcycle. The city received a grant to promote this program as a pilot with city employees. Now they're rolling out the kiosk style rental units city wide (see Bcycle story here.) The quality of journalism or level of importance of these pieces notwithstanding, the point is that Denver is again trying to promote bicycling as a healthy, sustainable alternative to automobile travel around town. And with all of the environmental, health, fitness and practical justifications for these efforts the anti-bike group of trolls was nonetheless out in force on the comment boards spewing their litany of bike riders are a nuisance bile. There are a couple doozer comments out there in these forums, which I can easily sum up here for you to save you the reduction in IQ from reading them yourself.

• Cyclists never stop at lights or stop signs.
• Cyclists don't abide by any of the rules of the road.
• Cyclists should ride on the sidewalks.
• Cyclists don't pay taxes.
• Obama wants everyone to ride a bike.
• The socialist Dems want us to look like Amsterdam with its bikes, whores, drugs and health care (that one is practically a quote.)
• Cycling is stupid.
• Not everyone can ride a bike so cycling is stupid (see point above).
• I live 45 miles away from work so cycling is stupid (see points above).
• When the end of the world comes the riders of the apocalypse won't be on horseback...guess what they'll be riding...?
• Bike programs are stupid because the "environment is a hoax"...the environment itself that is...another gem of a quote.
• blah, blah I'll just run those cyclists over...teach them a lesson

Its usually at the point where some degenerate threatens, anonymously grant you, to just run them cyclists over that I stop reading the comments. I understand that we Americans have a dark, cynical sense of humor where making fun and ridiculing stuff we either don't understand or don't agree with is funny. But when it comes to threatening violence against someone for a mode of transportation I almost give up...and start looking at homes in Amsterdam...bikes, whores and health care...bring on that apocalypse!

Oh, you horny baby?

Picture this:

Cyclist heads down residential street towards a three way stop; the road he’s on either turns right or left at the stop sign. He sits about 100ft from the sign moving at a relatively respectable pace for a guy on a commuter toting dress slacks and shirt, a lunch and running shoes. A car poised at the stop in front of him delays a bit before making its turn; now about 75ft out from the stop. From behind him the cyclist hears the hum of a motor and the distinct sound of acceleration. To hold his rightful spot in traffic, and signal his intent to turn left at the stop, the cyclist gives a glance back to see how much room there is, sticks out his left hand indicating he’s coming over and at this point coasts to the stop. Track stand, glance right, then left, and onward: no harm no foul right? Once the Toyota RAV 4, or some such equivalent, makes its turn the driver proceeds up behind the cyclist and hits the horn before driving past. WTF!?!

I can appreciate that the horn was designed for a distinct purpose, to allow motorists to communicate to other motorists that they may be in danger of collision. It apparently also works well to tell people in houses that you’re impatiently sitting out front idling and racking up greenhouse gases, but I digress. But with our over personification of vehicles as extensions of our very being, the horn has become a stand in for our loud mouths or lewd gestures (sometimes you still get the gestures.) Yet, I’ve rarely been honked at while driving. It has happened of course, but few and far between and usually I did deserve it. On the other hand I get honked at while cycling all the time. What is it about a guy on a bike that instigates some type of ‘vocal’ response from a driver via their horn?

I SELDOM ride in the middle of traffic, the exceptions being there’s something in the shoulder or I’m keeping pace with the cars in front or behind me. When its crappy and icy you bet your beeping horn I’m going to enter traffic (safely) to avoid ice on the side of the road. Similarly, because I’m generally faster than rush hour traffic downtown, if I’m riding around 15th, Larimer, Wazee etc in Denver, then I’m in the lane. I can hold 25-30mph long enough to hit the next light just like any car. I’m no Lance Armstrong but I can move a bike with authority when needs be. So there should be no reason to honk. People don’t honk at school buses slowing to pick up kids (no one did this morning), yet these large yellow vessels are clearly impeding their flow of motion. They likely wouldn’t honk at a geriatric barely hitting the speed limit; I suppose some might. A driver wouldn’t be apt to honk at farm or construction equipment driving on the shoulder, half in the lane, half out of it. So why honk at a bicyclist? Cars don’t honk at kids playing, people walking, joggers, ice cream trucks, police cars or UPS guys….all of which could be impeding their beloved right of way more than any cyclist…it just doesn’t make any sense!

Sometimes the honk is clearly a message that the driver is excited to see people on bikes. I’ve been honked at by people I know and I’ve been honked and waved at by total strangers who just think someone on a bike is a cool thing. I suppose I can accept this, however not expecting the blare (or gentle toot) of a horn from behind, you never know if you’re getting honked at out of love or out of a warning that you should consider your last rites: “How fast can YOU say the Lord’s Prayer before my bumper knocks the shit out of you.” And then there are clearly the jerk honkers…they honk cause they’re intimidated and angry at people on bikes and obviously lack the self control to just shut the hell up and get on with their lives. They perceive some sort of infraction against their beloved rolling steel cage on the part of the bicyclist, so they feel obligated to speak in its defense. “MY RAV 4 is precious and you made me stop at a stop sign…rot in hell @$%#%^$!#!” I can’t get my head around it, but it perturbs me greatly. When honked at I used to respond in turn with the bicyclist horn; usually some obscene gesture and ignorant comment. Now I just ignore it: what’s the point? Maybe eventually I will just be able to shrug it off…then again, maybe not.

On an unrelated note, I want to doff my hat to the mid 40’s, male pattern baldness driver of the Khaki (that’s Jeep’s official color) colored Jeep Wrangler Sport with black soft top at 26th and Kipling last night. We sat at the light, me behind you and waited for the drag race to begin. I totally thought I had the edge with my incredible capacity to overtake speeding cars... from behind…being a super-human bicyclist and rocking a 48X11 on my Surly and all. When you had to stop for that car turning left across from Gold’s Grocery I thought it was over and in the bag. Yet you put me in my place with your crunchy, hasty shifting, bat out of hell acceleration around the turning car from behind me in the bike lane. I thought I had your 6 cylinder 200+ horse engine beat over that mile before my turn but clearly should have thought again. You destroyed me and my manhood. I’ll never be able to look at my wife again and feel comfortable in my sexuality knowing that you and your large gas pedal are out there waiting to embarrass me again. This will inevitably ruin my marriage and my life...I'm looking at Enzyte ads now just to compensate, but it will never be enough. How foolish I was. It will never, ever, ever happen again. If I see you I will just pull over and vomit on my shoes in terror and deference…like a scared dog that wets itself upon first meeting strangers. Thanks for teaching me such a valuable lesson. (PS… I gladly would have testified in court on behalf of that Mazda who didn’t signal to turn left at Miller had your weak willed, small packaged, dumb-out-of-control-speeding-in-a-residential-area ass rear ended them…it looked close from where I stood, way too close for a freaking drive home. Hope your race home was worth it to get indoors so you could spank it alone to soft core porn on Skin-emax and visions of how you "beat that bicyclist"you loser. You’re a douche bag; likely always have been and likely always will be. And now everyone reading this will know it too.)

Sharing the Road...Bikes Too?

Standing at the light at 26th and Youngsfield I held the front of the left turn lane, line of traffic politely waiting behind me for the light to change. I wear a bright yellow jacket. I have a flashy, blinking light. Factoring in that it was only 5:00 with the pretty mountain sun a-setting, should imply that I’m one visible dude on a brand new shiny bike. So when the light changes and I proceed forward with my turn left onto the bike lane, imagine my shock when I hear the familiar sounds of brakes and tires grabbing pavement behind me. No, not car tires, or truck tires…or crotch rocket motorcycle tires, or cement truck, Fedex van, Ford F250: it was bike tires. “Oh sorry” was the acknowledgement I received from the cyclist who ran the red light in the bike lane before nearly t-boning me in the intersection. I stammered trying to come up with just the right words to say. In my astonishment I think all I got out was, “Guh waf a flick a dumpus” (you get the idea--gibberish and maybe an expletive-- I don‘t recall it happened so quickly.)

And to think that one of the chief complaints of motorists is that cyclists don’t obey the stated rules of the road. Imagine what the drivers waiting patiently for both the lights and me to turn would have thought at my getting rammed by some spandex clad, commuter tool on a bike. “I told you so” comes to mind, and it is sad how right they would have been. I know not everyone who gets on a bike wants to be an ambassador for the entire population of American cyclists. Some people don’t want to involve themselves in the politics of “sharing the road,” others don’t think it’s that big of a deal either way and some cyclists just prefer to do what they want. Yet, let’s face it, when you’re out riding a bike, even by yourself, you become “cyclists.” Most of the outspoken critics of bicyclists having equal access to public roadways do not distinguish between those cyclists who play by the rules and those who choose to make them up as they go. They see one rider run lights, weave through traffic, or see a group taking up more than their necessary share of the lane and these examples feed vitriolic stereotypes. Providing these cynics with more examples to justify their ‘cyclists gone wild’ view of bicycling only encourages their resistance and belief that bikes have no place on the road with cars.

Consider recent local legislative efforts here in Colorado to ban cyclists from riding on certain mountain and rural roadways. What began as the perspective of a handful of people, based on their negative reactions to what they perceived as cyclists pushing the limits, now has gained momentum to the point that local governments are actually considering these types of rules. While the messenger or the roadie may feel very cavalier or entitled in their navigation of traffic at their own personal discretion, they need to consider that their actions will reflect not just on themselves but on everyone else who wants to put two wheels to pavement. And while consideration for “the other guy” is not often the hallmark of this type of self-centered behavior, eventually it will come full circle. Unfortunately, until cycling becomes more accepted in the US as a method of transportation, the public will be on the watch for examples of how cycling just doesn’t fit in with the norm. In my opinion, all bike riding folk then have but two options: help provide an example of how bicycling can be a safe and logical method of transportation or just steamroll those people in traffic and see how far you get by yourself.

The Stop Lover's Manifesto

I once heard a wise man say that all of the stop signs with white around them were optional. This might be true: I am not a lawyer or a police officer. However I’m going to assume that the great wizards of urban planning and traffic management had a little something different in mind when they put all of these red and white signs up in our neighborhoods. So if they aren’t optional, whatever are we to do? Apparently the jury seems to still be out on that one.

Take the example of the timid motorist: they willingly sacrifice their right of way to just about everything: cars, trucks, bikes, zombie bunnies

(ok, I’d gladly let the zombie bunny go too.) It is not quite clear why one would voluntarily forfeit their right of way to a bike of all things, yet it happens quite frequently. Occasionally the driver is distracted and misses their turn or they’ve never seen a bike before and they want to take a picture. However more than likely they hesitate because it appears courteous to wait or they think the bike won’t stop. While courtesy is nice, as in giving 3ft to pass, excessive courtesy above and beyond the letter of the law just isn’t necessary. Cyclists count on cars to stick to the game plan; that being the normal rules of driving. Doing so helps them navigate that crazy asphalt jungle out there in the safest manner possible. If the bike doesn’t want to play by the rules, well courtesy’s probably the last thing they deserve. In most places the law says stop and yield to traffic already in the intersection (cars and bikes); sticking to that game plan is courteous enough.

As the timid stoppers are wont to approach the line, the rollers on the other hand love the line. They’d park their car on top of, or preferably beyond, the line of the intersection all day if they could: the view must be great from 10 ft past the stop sign. There are various typologies of this behavior, including:

• The slow roller: they pull up and stop briefly and then start inching forward almost imperceptibly; practically the track stand of the automotive world.

• The late stopper: they miss the stop completely but are socially conditioned enough to know to stop no matter how late. Interestingly, these drivers will often look at you from mid-intersection like you are the asshole.

• The slow roller, no looker: a variation on the slow roller, these drivers pull up and start moving forward all the while not looking once in the direction of oncoming traffic. There could be an entire bus full of George Hincapies bearing down on them and they wouldn’t ever notice until it is too late.

Last but not least are the stop runners. Everyone has run a stop sign at some point in their life either in their car or on a bike: there’s no piety in the realm of stop signs. Sometimes you miss it because the sign is lurking behind a large bush or parked car. Other times you just glance down and whoops…

Unintentional stop sign running I suppose constitutes an accident, the consequences can be severe but everyone can make mistakes. On the other hand there is intentional stop sign running: gunning it to beat someone to the line or just blatantly disregarding anyone else potentially entering the intersection. I’ve seen cars do it and I’ve seen cyclists do it. In the French Enlightenment sense this violates our Social Contract in a seemingly small, yet significant way. If everyone were to just quit stopping at stop signs traffic would go much slower, accident rates would increase, people would never get to work on time, pizzas would always be late and hipsters would be everywhere. No one wants this pandemonium (except for maybe the cyclist, weaving through traffic is much easier with the cars all jammed up and stopped…but I digress.)

So as a driver approaching that intersection or stop sign, take a good look at that cyclist heading your way. They could be someone’s father, mother, daughter, son, neighbor, teacher, best friend, team mate etc. Or they could be a prick who wants to run the intersection too. Or they could be coked out of their mind, on their way to a really big party, too drunk to be sure what is happening to them, as you can see in the example below. Why hit that person, they’re in enough trouble as it is? 

But all that aside, they’re likely just riding their bike and chances are they will stop too if needed or at least ride past soon enough and the world won’t have spun out of orbit in the meantime. So give that Stop sign a little love next time, play by the rules, lay off the nose candy and it should be smooth sailing….or driving….or riding—whatever.

The Mysterious 3 ft to Pass

In light of events which occurred on my way to work this morning, I thought it might be worthwhile to review some of the finer points of the relatively new 3ft to Pass law here in Colorado. Effective July this year SB 09-148 changed traffic laws to allow drivers more flexibility (and clear guidelines) for passing bicycles riding in traffic. The law also clarified some of the nebulous areas around how cyclists could/should travel within the natural flow of traffic. Explicitly, the main import of the law can be summarized by the following:

“THE DRIVER OF A MOTOR VEHICLE OVERTAKING A BICYCLIST
PROCEEDING IN THE SAME DIRECTION SHALL ALLOW THE BICYCLIST AT LEAST A THREE-FOOT SEPARATION BETWEEN THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE DRIVER'S VEHICLE, INCLUDING ALL MIRRORS OR OTHER PROJECTIONS, AND THE LEFT SIDE OF THE BICYCLIST AT ALL TIMES.”
Colorado SB 09-148 42-4-1003 1(b)

The law sent law enforcement and bike detractors into a tizzy, decrying the enforceability of the legislation. And truly, how does one in fact measure a 3ft distance between two simultaneously moving objects? I think Einstein proved this couldn’t be done unless one had a really fast plane, or a rocket ship with some lasers, two synchronized clocks, a wormhole and some e’s equaling mc something or other. Clearly this 3ft mumbo jumbo is some confusing stuff, requiring advanced degrees in quantum mechanics to sort out and effectively understand. The average Joe/Jane coffee drinking, mail reading, DVD loading, text sending, mp3 dowloading, Twitter updating, hair brushing, kid scolding motorist could never even remotely be trusted to do all of this other crap AND accurately discern whether they're too close to a cyclist in the road: its poppycock I tell you! The law hits a level of mystery on par with TABOR, TARP, NAFTA, IRS Form 1040, the Brady Bill, Patriot Act and many other cunning instruments of legislative bureaucracy.

Yet perhaps, oh perhaps, there is hope to unraveling these mysteries. Maybe, just maybe, by using keenly honed powers of…COMMON SENSE...it might be possible to sort out the specific complexities of this bastard child of a law. While I am not sure the likelihood of success, I've put together some pictures to illustrate the finer points of how we all might sort out this 3 feet to pass rule.  With all due respect Mr. Einstein, step aside and allow me to lay out my wisdom.

To demonstrate the complexities of my theory I'll use the case of a typical, oblivious, dumb-expression cylist riding alongside the street in traffic..."OMG its ambassador for cyclists everywhere, current World Road Race Champion Cadel Evans. But he's on the street, WTF WILL WE DO?"

Thanks to the wonders of common sense coupled with a little deductive reasoning, it can probably be assumed that when these legislative crackpots said, "3 foot separation" they probably did not mean, "ride up the ass of the person on the bike and scare the living shit out of them." As tricky as your average legislator may be, I think 3 feet might actually mean something different. As pictured below, even Sir Isaac Newton, rotting in his grave, can tell that up the butt is not 3 foot separation. That's indeed something VERY different... "squeal me your ABC's."

Similarly, one could assume the same would apply if the cyclist is actually not riding in traffic but is using one of those said "Designated Bike Lanes" in order to keep themselves out of the grill of passing motorists.  Yes, even if there is oncoming traffic there really should be no need to join the cyclist in the shoulder or bike lane.  Fear not, safety can be assured by either passing normally in the lane (keeping in mind the whole: in the ass thing) -OR- by simply waiting for the opposing lane to clear in order to pass around the cyclist allowing the appropriate 3 feet.

Certainly one's busy, busy day might be interrupted by having to wait 10-15 whole seconds to pass in the other lane, but believe me that text and the cheeseburger can wait...really they can.

Now hold on to your seats, here's where it gets really interesting, Mr. Hawking you just wait til I'm finished.

When passing a cyclist a car need but move over slightly...just enough to be out of the ass and clear of the cyclist.

Ok, breathe I promised no string theory. Just move over and pass. Move and pass. Move and pass. Does it have to be exactly 3 ft? Well by now we all understand up the ass, so what about nearly up the ass or just in the ear? Might be best to just move over so that there's room and then drive past, move on with one's day and finish that latte.

Sure one could say that this still is some complicated stuff, but I think that by abiding by my simple 'move over and pass' theory we can really unravel both 3ft to pass as well as the other mysteries of the universe. In the end we may finally prove or disprove the existence of a higher power, understand what happened to the Mayans, solve the riddles of PI, discover life on other planets, finally figure out what exactly is in Tang and maybe even make the roads a bit safer for both cyclits and motorists...and their respective asses.