Stayin' Alive - Urban
Written by: Dan Empfield
Date: Mon Jun 07 2010
Two weeks ago I wrote my own tips on how to ride safely while on rural roads. I noted my own relative success rate: one crash in 20 years.
I also noted the likelihood that, after boasting of my success, I was due for another crash. And—lo!—two days after publishing that installment, while sharing the road with no vehicles or cyclists or pedestrians, riding entirely solo, I managed to find and tumble over a manhole.
Just goes to show you, doesn't it?
As I was casting about for themes on urban writing, I find that what I wrote on this subject two years ago stands up fairly well. So, for part-2 of this series, will you be upset if I simply extend and revise these comments?
In a 2006 survey of 18- to 24-year old Americans, barely a third could find Iraq on a map; just over 1 in 10 could find Afghanistan; fewer than half could locate Ohio or New York. While you're on your training ride these very people are driving directly at you, cell phone in one hand, iPod in the other, steering with their knees.
This year marks the completion of three decades since I first (as Phil Liggett might say) turned the pedals in anger. In thirty years of cycling I've made ballistic contact with foreign objects my fair share of times.
But most of those occurrences took place during my first half-decade as a cyclist. I've been relatively crash-free over the last two-dozen years, excepting the odd equipment failure, or an ill-fated maneuver on deceptively slick pavement.
Upon reflection, I and my fellow veterans of the road agree that it's defensive riding that has stood us in good stead. One develops instincts that come from this truism: You can drive a truck between what motorists ought to do—what they're legally obliged to do—versus what they actually do. Just because I have the right of way does not mean I can proceed apace in the comfort that my rights, and my life and limb, will not be violated.
When I hear that another of our sport's compadres is hit by a car, whether in training or in a race, two things come to mind: Yet another oblivious or impatient driver has taken out one of our own; and I wonder whether the cyclist was inattentive to the distance extant between a motorist's appropriate versus his actual behavior behind the wheel.
To that end, presented here is an overview of a certain few signs of danger—moments that should provoke heightened awareness—in the hope that the reader might avoid mishap.
I also noted the likelihood that, after boasting of my success, I was due for another crash. And—lo!—two days after publishing that installment, while sharing the road with no vehicles or cyclists or pedestrians, riding entirely solo, I managed to find and tumble over a manhole.
Just goes to show you, doesn't it?
As I was casting about for themes on urban writing, I find that what I wrote on this subject two years ago stands up fairly well. So, for part-2 of this series, will you be upset if I simply extend and revise these comments?
In a 2006 survey of 18- to 24-year old Americans, barely a third could find Iraq on a map; just over 1 in 10 could find Afghanistan; fewer than half could locate Ohio or New York. While you're on your training ride these very people are driving directly at you, cell phone in one hand, iPod in the other, steering with their knees.
This year marks the completion of three decades since I first (as Phil Liggett might say) turned the pedals in anger. In thirty years of cycling I've made ballistic contact with foreign objects my fair share of times.
But most of those occurrences took place during my first half-decade as a cyclist. I've been relatively crash-free over the last two-dozen years, excepting the odd equipment failure, or an ill-fated maneuver on deceptively slick pavement.
Upon reflection, I and my fellow veterans of the road agree that it's defensive riding that has stood us in good stead. One develops instincts that come from this truism: You can drive a truck between what motorists ought to do—what they're legally obliged to do—versus what they actually do. Just because I have the right of way does not mean I can proceed apace in the comfort that my rights, and my life and limb, will not be violated.
When I hear that another of our sport's compadres is hit by a car, whether in training or in a race, two things come to mind: Yet another oblivious or impatient driver has taken out one of our own; and I wonder whether the cyclist was inattentive to the distance extant between a motorist's appropriate versus his actual behavior behind the wheel.
To that end, presented here is an overview of a certain few signs of danger—moments that should provoke heightened awareness—in the hope that the reader might avoid mishap.
CARS TURNING RIGHT
I can't begin to estimate how many times a motorist has passed right by me only to turn right at an intersection, cutting me off. But I don't tend to smack into those cars anymore, like I did when I was in my 20s. That's because I assume he's going to make a right-hand turn in front of me, whether or not he's activated his directional.
You'd be amazed how much you can divine of a motorist's knowledge and intentions through a microsecond glance at him through his car's window. Did he see me? Is he looking in his rear view mirror, or side mirror? Is he slowing down, in anticipation of executing a turn? Is he looking left at the oncoming traffic—certainly a signal of an intent to turn right—without looking back toward me?
I'll be honest. When I was a young hothead, I'd almost dare drivers to do that to me. I would get mad in advance of the act that would trigger getting me mad, because I knew it was going to happen. I was yet again going to be cut off, in contravention of my rights as a cyclist. I had not yet learned that my own high standards do not apply to everyone. Even if my standards of behavior were righteous or reasonable, they were not universal. All my railing and hand-wringing would not make it so. No, those drivers should not be turning in front of me. They should also know how to find Saudi Arabia on a map, by God. But, I live, work, and ride my bike in a world where people either choose ignorance or have it thrust upon them. Selah.
I can't begin to estimate how many times a motorist has passed right by me only to turn right at an intersection, cutting me off. But I don't tend to smack into those cars anymore, like I did when I was in my 20s. That's because I assume he's going to make a right-hand turn in front of me, whether or not he's activated his directional.
You'd be amazed how much you can divine of a motorist's knowledge and intentions through a microsecond glance at him through his car's window. Did he see me? Is he looking in his rear view mirror, or side mirror? Is he slowing down, in anticipation of executing a turn? Is he looking left at the oncoming traffic—certainly a signal of an intent to turn right—without looking back toward me?
I'll be honest. When I was a young hothead, I'd almost dare drivers to do that to me. I would get mad in advance of the act that would trigger getting me mad, because I knew it was going to happen. I was yet again going to be cut off, in contravention of my rights as a cyclist. I had not yet learned that my own high standards do not apply to everyone. Even if my standards of behavior were righteous or reasonable, they were not universal. All my railing and hand-wringing would not make it so. No, those drivers should not be turning in front of me. They should also know how to find Saudi Arabia on a map, by God. But, I live, work, and ride my bike in a world where people either choose ignorance or have it thrust upon them. Selah.
CARS TURNING LEFT
Let me tell you the story of one of my vintage crashes. I'm riding on Highway 50, in South Lake Tahoe, during a circumnavigation of that lake with a group of friends. We're one mile away from finishing our 72-mile journey.
It was a typical Summer day, with cars bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road. We're riding on the right-hand shoulder at 20mph or better. All of a sudden, a Volvo appears out of nowhere, and we all plow into him, the whole paceline of four or five guys. We all go down. What happened? A motorist traveling in the other direction desired to make a left-hand turn across traffic. Obliging motorists traveling in our direction made a space for him. He didn't see us. We didn't see him.
Who was at fault? Technically, the driver of the Volvo turned into oncoming traffic. But a case could just as easily be made that we were guilty of "unsafe passing on the right." If a policeman is predisposed against cyclists, he's likely to see it that way.
If you have to ride in traffic like that, look for an opening in the traffic in front of you. The likeliest reason for this space is to allow a vehicle to cross the road, right in front of you.
Let me tell you the story of one of my vintage crashes. I'm riding on Highway 50, in South Lake Tahoe, during a circumnavigation of that lake with a group of friends. We're one mile away from finishing our 72-mile journey.
It was a typical Summer day, with cars bumper-to-bumper on both sides of the road. We're riding on the right-hand shoulder at 20mph or better. All of a sudden, a Volvo appears out of nowhere, and we all plow into him, the whole paceline of four or five guys. We all go down. What happened? A motorist traveling in the other direction desired to make a left-hand turn across traffic. Obliging motorists traveling in our direction made a space for him. He didn't see us. We didn't see him.
Who was at fault? Technically, the driver of the Volvo turned into oncoming traffic. But a case could just as easily be made that we were guilty of "unsafe passing on the right." If a policeman is predisposed against cyclists, he's likely to see it that way.
If you have to ride in traffic like that, look for an opening in the traffic in front of you. The likeliest reason for this space is to allow a vehicle to cross the road, right in front of you.
CAR DOORS
The scenario above is the sort of thing that might happen to cyclists who live in beach communities. An overwhelming number of triathletes and cyclists live and ride along the Pacific Coast Highway corridor. I used to be one of them in my younger years, and most of my crashing took place on that stretch of road.
Laguna Beach was my particular bad luck city. I crashed into cars, or they into me, in North Laguna and South Laguna. In retrospect it was due to three enabling causes: PCH was thoroughly busy and subject to cars exiting and entering that road; this stretch of PCH was hilly, so I had less opportunity to avoid a collision when I was descending at high speed; and I was inattentive to the bad habits of motorists.
Certain cities like Laguna Beach, Huntington Beach, the South Bay area of Manhattan and Hermosa Beach, feature parallel parking on Pacific Coast Highway, which grants you precious little space between cars on the number-2 lane on the left, and parked cars on the right. Again, you'd be amazed at what you can see with a quick glance: people seated in those parked cars; people's faces in their side mirrors; and of course back-up lights. When you see those back-up lights, that means the car has just backed into its parallel parking space. When the lights go out, the driver has just turned his car off. What's next? He's got to exit his car. Will he see you before he opens his door? Will he even look? Probably not.
INTERSECTIONS
Look, I don't care how much time I lose in a race. I'm just not going to assume an intersection—even one that is controlled, even one that is barricaded—is safe for my passage. Remember, people are ignorant. They are just barely smart enough to pass a driving test. Or not. You don't think that a simple lack of a valid license is going to stop someone from driving, do you?
Besides, what do you think people at 7am are doing on the road on a Sunday morning? They're probably engaged in one of two activities: They're on their way to church, for which they will be late because of the intersection at which they're now unexpectedly sitting; or they're on their way home from whatever it was they were doing Saturday night. The truest thing you can say about these people is that they are not thinking of the consequences of your bike hitting their passenger-side door.
Here are a few things we know. Police do not show up at the intersections they're supposed to control. When they do show up, they have no training in, and so no idea about, how fast oncoming triathletes ride their bikes. They'll certainly waive through a motorist when they should not have. Even those who do understand the speed at which you ride your bike have no control over how fast a motorist will step on the gas pedal and get his vehicle through the intersection.
This is the case when in fact the police are taking care of traffic control. It's just as likely that your life and spinal cord are in the hands of 85-year-old police volunteers or 15-year-old quasi-junior police volunteers. Or by no one.
And barricades? They've never stopped a motivated driver.
Look, here's the sad truth: There is no such thing as a controlled intersection. I don't care of there's a $100,000 prize for first in my age group, and I'm in the lead. Some things are just not worth it. Some races I just don't do, because there are so many intersections with cross traffic. When I do find myself in this position, I sit up, get out of the aero bars, with my hands on the pursuits. Of course I do so in a fashion not to cause the person behind me to slam on his brakes, but my main concern is not meeting the driver face to face as I fly through his side window.
ATTENTIVE POSTURE
Those of us who've ridden for decades all know fellow athletes who tend to crash more often than others. At first, you assume it's motorist error. When it happens over and over again, or when they ride their bikes into the backs of parked cars, it's a little harder to blame the other guy. Typically, these are the inattentive riders. This might be excused but for the consequences. At some point inattentiveness, and the disinclination to practice defensive riding, shifts the onus onto the cyclist. When you decide to engage in the sport of cycling, you're the one who'll pay the steepest price in an accident, regardless of whom is at fault.
The list of problems and dangers a cyclist might face on the road are legion. They each require a tactical response, and I've listed some of them above. But, I've barely nicked the surface. The message here is strategic: what is your current posture when contemplating a road shared with motorized vehicles? The safest posture is to assume the worst from those on the other side. Then, you'll be pleasantly surprised when these drivers do the right thing and, more to the point, you're more likely to arrive home safe and sound and able to ride another day.
The scenario above is the sort of thing that might happen to cyclists who live in beach communities. An overwhelming number of triathletes and cyclists live and ride along the Pacific Coast Highway corridor. I used to be one of them in my younger years, and most of my crashing took place on that stretch of road.
Laguna Beach was my particular bad luck city. I crashed into cars, or they into me, in North Laguna and South Laguna. In retrospect it was due to three enabling causes: PCH was thoroughly busy and subject to cars exiting and entering that road; this stretch of PCH was hilly, so I had less opportunity to avoid a collision when I was descending at high speed; and I was inattentive to the bad habits of motorists.
Certain cities like Laguna Beach, Huntington Beach, the South Bay area of Manhattan and Hermosa Beach, feature parallel parking on Pacific Coast Highway, which grants you precious little space between cars on the number-2 lane on the left, and parked cars on the right. Again, you'd be amazed at what you can see with a quick glance: people seated in those parked cars; people's faces in their side mirrors; and of course back-up lights. When you see those back-up lights, that means the car has just backed into its parallel parking space. When the lights go out, the driver has just turned his car off. What's next? He's got to exit his car. Will he see you before he opens his door? Will he even look? Probably not.
INTERSECTIONS
Look, I don't care how much time I lose in a race. I'm just not going to assume an intersection—even one that is controlled, even one that is barricaded—is safe for my passage. Remember, people are ignorant. They are just barely smart enough to pass a driving test. Or not. You don't think that a simple lack of a valid license is going to stop someone from driving, do you?
Besides, what do you think people at 7am are doing on the road on a Sunday morning? They're probably engaged in one of two activities: They're on their way to church, for which they will be late because of the intersection at which they're now unexpectedly sitting; or they're on their way home from whatever it was they were doing Saturday night. The truest thing you can say about these people is that they are not thinking of the consequences of your bike hitting their passenger-side door.
Here are a few things we know. Police do not show up at the intersections they're supposed to control. When they do show up, they have no training in, and so no idea about, how fast oncoming triathletes ride their bikes. They'll certainly waive through a motorist when they should not have. Even those who do understand the speed at which you ride your bike have no control over how fast a motorist will step on the gas pedal and get his vehicle through the intersection.
This is the case when in fact the police are taking care of traffic control. It's just as likely that your life and spinal cord are in the hands of 85-year-old police volunteers or 15-year-old quasi-junior police volunteers. Or by no one.
And barricades? They've never stopped a motivated driver.
Look, here's the sad truth: There is no such thing as a controlled intersection. I don't care of there's a $100,000 prize for first in my age group, and I'm in the lead. Some things are just not worth it. Some races I just don't do, because there are so many intersections with cross traffic. When I do find myself in this position, I sit up, get out of the aero bars, with my hands on the pursuits. Of course I do so in a fashion not to cause the person behind me to slam on his brakes, but my main concern is not meeting the driver face to face as I fly through his side window.
ATTENTIVE POSTURE
Those of us who've ridden for decades all know fellow athletes who tend to crash more often than others. At first, you assume it's motorist error. When it happens over and over again, or when they ride their bikes into the backs of parked cars, it's a little harder to blame the other guy. Typically, these are the inattentive riders. This might be excused but for the consequences. At some point inattentiveness, and the disinclination to practice defensive riding, shifts the onus onto the cyclist. When you decide to engage in the sport of cycling, you're the one who'll pay the steepest price in an accident, regardless of whom is at fault.
The list of problems and dangers a cyclist might face on the road are legion. They each require a tactical response, and I've listed some of them above. But, I've barely nicked the surface. The message here is strategic: what is your current posture when contemplating a road shared with motorized vehicles? The safest posture is to assume the worst from those on the other side. Then, you'll be pleasantly surprised when these drivers do the right thing and, more to the point, you're more likely to arrive home safe and sound and able to ride another day.
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Comments
Be conservative
Reviewed by: wreckfish, Jun 22 2010 12:35PM
As a near-daily biker in DC, the one thing I've learned more than anything else is to be conservative. Breezing through a stop light might shave 10 seconds off my ride but it ain't worth it. I do a lot of braking and ride slowly through dangerous areas. I wear a lot of flourescent clothing and my bike is adorned with lights and reflective tape.
We all ride to feel the freedom and speed that comes with taking on a road. But you have to pick your places in a city and be patient. Opportunities to fly do come but you push it at your peril.
We all ride to feel the freedom and speed that comes with taking on a road. But you have to pick your places in a city and be patient. Opportunities to fly do come but you push it at your peril.
Great articles, with one exception...
Handling a tri-bike in a mixed bunch paceline
Reviewed by: Bernard Maughan, Jun 9 2010 1:57AM
Thanks for a great pair of articles. Perhaps the follow on could be about about bunch etiquette for Triathletes. I can contribute one story to start...
As someone who has also had numerous crashes, mostly through inattentiveness but also through equipment failure I recognise the truth in your words and urge all cyclists to be responsible for their actions (including bike maintenance/checks) and anticipate the actions of others.
Recently I was visiting my old home town after a race, and turned up for the bunch ride to find I was the only one on a tri bike. We set off in a 2 abreast paceline (legally) and I happened to be sitting behind a pro cyclist and his buddy. The one thing I have always noticed that differentiates cyclists and triathletes on bikes is that cyclists ride close, and triathletes ride more widely spaced in this kind of paceline. The pair in front of me were in very tight formation, and I felt that I was often too wide and hanging in the traffic, so obligingly tried to hold a tight formation on the guy next to me.
The problem with this (obvious in hindsight) was that inevitably a serious of events happened at the same time which lead to my partner having to move out towards me unexpectedly. As we were side by side, shoulder to shoulder, I thought we would be ok if we each held our line and gradually eased away - I mean, that's one reason why a double paceline rides shoulder to shoulder, right?
Well scrub that if you're on a tri bike. He was taller than me and my TT bike's front end was a lot lower than his, and as we rubbed shoulders my pursuit bar/brake lever got caught inside his brake/shift lever. We may have recovered still but he pulled away, and that was it... we went down and 6 others piled into us from behind. Fortunately, no-one was seriously injured and there were no moving cars on the road.
After the ride, a friend asked me if I caused the crash and I said no, categorically and emphatically. With the benefit of hindsight and a more rational mindset, I think while I may not have caused the crash, I was at fault - for riding my tri bike while trying to stick to road bunch convention of "keeping it tight".
The lesson here for me was this: Riding a tri bike in a road bunch is dangerous. If you have the choice, ride your road bike, but if you don't, stay at the back or stay on the front and preferably not alongside someone on a road bike.
As someone who has also had numerous crashes, mostly through inattentiveness but also through equipment failure I recognise the truth in your words and urge all cyclists to be responsible for their actions (including bike maintenance/checks) and anticipate the actions of others.
Recently I was visiting my old home town after a race, and turned up for the bunch ride to find I was the only one on a tri bike. We set off in a 2 abreast paceline (legally) and I happened to be sitting behind a pro cyclist and his buddy. The one thing I have always noticed that differentiates cyclists and triathletes on bikes is that cyclists ride close, and triathletes ride more widely spaced in this kind of paceline. The pair in front of me were in very tight formation, and I felt that I was often too wide and hanging in the traffic, so obligingly tried to hold a tight formation on the guy next to me.
The problem with this (obvious in hindsight) was that inevitably a serious of events happened at the same time which lead to my partner having to move out towards me unexpectedly. As we were side by side, shoulder to shoulder, I thought we would be ok if we each held our line and gradually eased away - I mean, that's one reason why a double paceline rides shoulder to shoulder, right?
Well scrub that if you're on a tri bike. He was taller than me and my TT bike's front end was a lot lower than his, and as we rubbed shoulders my pursuit bar/brake lever got caught inside his brake/shift lever. We may have recovered still but he pulled away, and that was it... we went down and 6 others piled into us from behind. Fortunately, no-one was seriously injured and there were no moving cars on the road.
After the ride, a friend asked me if I caused the crash and I said no, categorically and emphatically. With the benefit of hindsight and a more rational mindset, I think while I may not have caused the crash, I was at fault - for riding my tri bike while trying to stick to road bunch convention of "keeping it tight".
The lesson here for me was this: Riding a tri bike in a road bunch is dangerous. If you have the choice, ride your road bike, but if you don't, stay at the back or stay on the front and preferably not alongside someone on a road bike.
Stayin Alive
Always a good reminder
Reviewed by: Bill, Jun 8 2010 2:39PM
Thanks for posting the article on urban riding. This is helpful both for the experienced as a reminder of what we may or may not doing well and for less experienced riders. In particular, the section on being responsible for yourself in a race is priceless. Most of us have had close calls with this, my last two weekends ago during a time trial in the country with two course monitors (one a policeman) watching cars from a side street. The operative word here is "watching". The driver decided, since no one told him not to, to pull out when I was about 30 yards away. Fortunately, I anticipated someone (in this case unfortunately, 3 people) doing something wrong and I was prepared to avoid a nasty crash. No race is important enough to risk your life.
Oblivious riders
Reviewed by: Garreth, Jun 8 2010 10:08AM
I come from South Africa, and trust me cyclists in the States have it good, but as someone who rides a bike and a car, there are far too many cyclists here who are just too trusting of the laws and of the rest of road users (and I won't even mention the people riding on the sidewalk or against traffic, and with i-pods, oh, and guys without helmets, are you crazy?). Too few cyclists assume the worst, and put motorists under pressure to always be on the lookout for cyclists riding along completely in their own world (pedestrians too, but that's not for here). The cyclist is always going to be the loser in a collision with a car, so take some responsibility for your own safety and heed this article - otherwise take a trip to Johannesburg and see what defensive cycling is really about.
