Gutter
Bunnies
Gutter
Bunnies
of the World: UNITE!
(OK, folks. Here it is:
the lowdown on being an urban two-wheel survivalist; the real “skinny” on being a
bicyclist in a world engineered for automobiles, but first, a bit of background
reminiscing.)
I have been a bicycle
enthusiast most of my life. As with most American kids, I started enjoying
human-powered wheeled vehicles at a very early age. My first such machine was
actually a tricycle, but it was a very expensive and fancy one—clearly several
notches above the usual ‘kiddie trike’ that most kids start out on. I still
have a picture of myself with that trike, taken when I was 6 or 7.
Although I encountered
automobiles and motorcycles in my sophomore year in high school (a 1940 Chevy
Master Deluxe and a 50 cc 1962 Honda C-110 Super Sport, respectively) like most
California born youths, I never got caught up in all the motor-sports
obsessive-compulsiveness of adolescents. It wasn’t, however, until I found
myself serving with the US Air Force at a SAC base in North Dakota that I got
back into serious two-wheeling. This took the form of a 1966 Schwinn Super Sport
derailleur, since on my minimal Airman’s salary, I couldn’t afford the
Paramount that I was so attracted to. I seem to recall that the Super Sport
model (a step above the Continental and a step below the Paramount) cost me
about $78.50. It was gold-yellow and had handlebar shifters that flanked the bar
stem bracket (an innovation at that time), rather than the more prevalent
downtube shifters.
Since I most often
worked (and lived) in town at the John Moses Air Force Hospital (formerly a VA
regional hospital, before being taken over when the Air Force moved into the
state), instead of at the base (15 miles north of town), I could take leisurely
weekend rides out into the surrounding ND countryside. It was quite bucolic and
peaceful, gazing out on the farms and countryside landscape. However, one could
never quite shake an uncomfortable awareness that lurking under those fields of
corn and wheat were monstrously lethal inter-continental ballistic missiles
(ICBMs, mostly Minuteman and Titan IIs) that could erupt from below on pillars
of fire to plunge the whole planet back into the stone-age in a heart beat.
There were no bike
paths, of course, but at least the occasional farmer-driven pickup usually gave
bicycles a wide berth and aside from one or possible such two tattered old
vehicles, there was hardly enough traffic to worry about. The one bicycle shop
in Minot had been there since the Wright Brothers first powered flight (or so it
looked, judging from the dingy interior), but there was no mistaking the row of
shiny new Schwinn Paramounts that flanked the entrance’s atrium. I seem to
recall they were on the order of about $500 and several of them were single
speed track bikes, since that was where ‘serious’ bicycling was at, back in
the 60s mid-west. I had never myself seen velodrome style bicycle oval
tracks, with their banked wooden surfaces, but I would have thought such
things were a bid odd, since at that time a bicycle’s whole intent and purpose
was to allow the rider to leisurely enjoy nature at a speed compatible with
over-sexed bumblebees, at best.
My next encounter with
‘serious’ bicycles took place after I had left the Air Force and was living
in Berkeley. It was 1969 and the anti-war protest was growing concurrent with
Mario Savio’s ‘Free Speech Movement’, gaining momentum at UC’s ‘Savo
Island Village’ student housing on the Bay side of San Pablo Avenue (and later
at Sproul Plaza near Sather gate).
The erstwhile ‘Bicycle
Boom of the 70s’ was about to spring forth and one day, as I worked the
pulmonary lab at Providence Hospital (now incorporated into Summit Medical
Center on ‘Pill Hill’), one of my colleagues—an eclectic medical school
drop out who looked a bit like a youthful Alfred Nobel—drew my attention once
more back to bicycles. He was evaluating the only two ‘serious’ derailleur
bikes of that early 70s period, the Raleigh Record and the Peugeot PX-10. We
discussed the subject endlessly until finally my friend showed up at work on his
new Raleigh Record. For reasons that now escape me, I was drawn to the
Peugeot—perhaps due to the fact that it represented quirky ‘Gallic’
mind-set in its characteristic (and cheaply applied!) white paint and stood thus apart
from the no-nonsense functional appearance of the Raleigh.
My friend Gene was
curious about how the Peugeot handled, compared to his Raleigh and when I showed
up the next day with a new PX-10 (exactly $178.50 at College Cyclery) asked if
he could take a few spins around the hospital parking lot. I readily assented,
having no reservations about entrusting my new bike to Gene, who was a keen
Aleister Crowley fan, among other things. Imagine my horror, then, when Gene
leaped onto the virginal Peugeot and tried to lay a strip on the parking lot
asphalt as he suddenly applied a force of God-only-knows how many foot-pounds of
torque on the pedals at a vector of about 90 degrees to the direction of travel.
When I heard the sharp crack of breaking aluminum (the wheels were MAVIC
aluminum allow) and saw Gene fall (safely) sideways off my bike, it took me a
second to register the fact that Gene had managed to crumple the front wheel of
my Peugeot neatly in two. And this, before I’d even had a chance to ride it
myself! Gaak!
Gene, to his credit, was
appropriately chagrinned (but not quite contrite), and offered to have the wheel
replaced or repaired, but for me it was like witnessing a feudal droit de
signore first hand and personal. [This pattern would repeat itself,
curiously enough, a few months later when I traded my faithful old 1962 VW
beetle ragtop in on a new 1969 VW hardtop. Having parked my new bug in front of
the store-front where I was living at the time, I returned from work one day to
find that the street-side fenders at both front and rear had been creased by
some errant delivery truck with a low flat-bed. And this with only 3 miles on
it.]
My Peugeot finally
retuned from the shop with a fresh wheel and I managed to overlook this rather
unhappy breech of etiquette on the part of my friend Gene. In fact, when we
climbed the Sierra’s ‘Matterhorn Peak’ on Yosemite’s eastern boundary a
few weeks later, I managed to shrug off the momentary urge to push him off the
summit block—a rather nice gesture of restraint on my part, I feel,
considering what had occurred shortly before. The fact that Gene descended the
Matterhorn Glacier in an inflatable one man life raft a few minutes later almost
saved me the trouble (he made it, however).
The Peugeot had sew-ups
instead of clincher tires, since at that time sew-up tubular tires were the only
tires deemed suitable for “serious” bicyclists, but this was a recurring
source of frustration on the various recreational bike rides I took around the
states. Unfortunately, despite their precariously thin walls and complete lack
of resistance to punctures, most of us bicycle neophytes were firmly held in the
thrall of European custom, so suffer we did with those wretched things until the
newer clincher designs came out. If anything might have dissuaded me from being
a keen bicyclist, it might have been the absolute pain in the butt that sew-up
tires were, but I simply carried a liberal stash of spares on my rides, tried as
assiduously as possible to avoid anything remotely resembling puncture potential
on the roadway, and thus managed to get through my rides with little more than
glued-together fingers.
I think the height of my
70s period riding aside from various weekend winery tours and occasional coastal
rides (I was never into the ‘century riding’ mind-set of the more fanatic
Berkeley wheelmen) had to have been a tour of Death Valley National Monument
that I completed with a small group of my friends. This was in the mid-70s and a
good friend and I limbered up ‘Urge’, my 1955 VW transporter (a wildly
paisley-painted Type II VW bus that had been formerly owned by a stark, raving
mad Ken Kesey camp follower),
loaded up our bikes, and roared off (with as much ‘roar’ as 36 horsepower
would permit) to tackle this objective during the cooler weather of Death
Valley in the Spring, a time when it has usually run amok with wildflowers.
Predictably, the leg of
the trip from Stovepipe Wells to Daylight Pass (via Bad Water, at minus 298 feet
elevation) was a mixed bag, with some tailwind, but not much to boost us up over
the 15 miles leading to the 4300 foot pass except our own muscles. Still, the
weather was great, the spring wildflowers brilliant, and even the pass wasn’t
all that exhausting. Once at the summit (the view from which was spectacular),
it was mostly downhill free-wheeling for about 15 more miles, until we pulled
into Beatty, on the Nevada side. Beatty, for its part in those days, was a dried
up little hollow by the side of the sand dunes that had a basic park, a basic
school, a few scraggly trees, a trailer park, mom & pop store, and several
shiny & conspicuous sheriff’s dept. cruisers with seemingly nothing to do
and no one to harass.
I remember I had brought
a breathtakingly huge sheath knife with me, and worn openly (although not
flagrantly, since the blade must have been a good 10 inches long), but I was
wise enough to face away from the sheriff, whenever he drove by
(the Carthagians probably could have won the Punic Wars with it;
doubtless a very illegal blade to wear either overtly or covertly in
sleepy little Beatty). Stories of ‘disappeared’ Freedom Riders in the South
must have figured symbolically in my concerns over our safety, but I was also
very mindful of our resident Berkeley student status, something we didn’t
really want widely broadcast by the locals. The Vietnam War was by this time on
the verge of collapse, but rabid pro-war fanatics were still to be found under
every bush—especially in the rural areas of the state.
We wheeled on through
little old Beatty, after a lunch stop, then headed south on Highway 95 to
Amargosa, stopping to take in the bizarrely attractive austerity of Marta
Beckett’s ‘Amargosa Opera House. The ride from Beatty to Amargosa was a
struggle, with strong headwinds and no respite from the relentless gusts of
desert air. Several of us resorted to drafting to ease the strain, but I finally
fell back, off the pace, since I was not in as good a shape as I had thought
(apparently). After the rest at Amargosa, we wheeled back into Death Valley via
Zabriskie Point and down to Furnace Creek, the longest stretch (about 30 miles)
and late in the day. Finally, we struggled in to the campgrounds near Furnace
Creek and managed to erect a tent in the pitch-black darkness. It was quite late
at night by then, and we were all dead tired. Unfortunately, the camper nearby
was full of kids who were as alive and noisy as we were lifeless. Their chatter,
laughter, and general mayhem went on and on until I finally lost it and yelled
sharply at them to “Pipe down!” This is an old WWII naval expression
that means “cut the noise”, but the kids were unfamiliar with it and thought
it cute that ‘some old fart’ near them (all of 24 years) had uttered these
funny words. Their ‘attitude’ continued for quite a while, as a result (of
my point being lost on them), and we really didn’t get much sleep that night.
In 1983 I left
California bound for Saudi Arabia on my first overseas contract. While in Taif
(the erstwhile ‘summer capitol’ of KSA, located at about 6000 feet in the
Western Hijazi mountains), I bought my first overseas bike (a Korean mountain
bike) just after purchasing a desert tan Russian LADA Niva 4WD SUV (Small
Utility Vehicle). The Korean bike actually belonged to a gay Canadian flat
mate who had purchased a very expensive bike without knowing the slightest thing
about them (he took great pride in telling everyone he was a “Queens
College” graduate, which in fact he was).
I finally talked him out
of the bike, paying about half the new cost, and the bike had had hardly any
miles put on it, so it was a bargain. I started to use this bike to commute to
and from the hospital, as well as for occasional mountain bike rides on the
Hijazi plateau. This was the start of my present status as a ‘Gutter Bunny’
(which is the disparaging slang term shit-hot mountain bikers use to refer to
urban bicycle commuters), but it was also my introduction to some of the more
radical Saudi Sunni conservatives, who would sometimes swerve wildly to careen
at the ‘infidel blasphemers’ who dared to show lower legs and bare arms
under the hot Saudi sun as they rode.
This was also my first
experience at feeling somewhat the ‘marked target on wheels’, as we not only
had to avoid obvious road hazards (broken glass, jagged metal objects, and
potholes), we also had to stay well away from religiously radical passers-by in
cars, who took it upon themselves to try (so it seemed) to deliberately hit us
(or at least put serious wind up us!). I am still convinced that many of these
idiots were actual members of the Mutawa’ain itself (the so-called
‘religious police’, or “The Committee to Promote Religious Virtue and
Eliminate Vice”).
Naturally, with all my
experience as a recreational road-runner, avoiding similar pea-brained western
Neanderthals, I was well primed to undertake bicycle-car avoidance maneuvering
on my new mountain bike so as to not inadvertently end up decorating a Mecedes
Benz garbage truck’s hood as an ornament. The safest place to ride was on the
hospital compound or in the Tihama (coastal desert) outback, although the
severity of the heat could make that option pretty risky at certain times of the
year. I cannot forget the suggestion of a friend who proposed we all bicycle out
to the site on that desert where T.E. Lawrence and Prince Faisel's men had
long-ago blown up a Turkish railroad engine with its cars. The late spring heat
was averaging 130 degrees at mid-day and there we were, pumping across the dunes
to reach the old railroad bed via a long disused Bedu camel trail.
The wreck itself was splendid in its austere isolation and only slightly rusted state of preservation, remaining almost exactly as it had been the day it was blown off the track by Lawrence’s explosive charges. We must have sweated gallons that day, but the trip was well worth it and we encountered no one—not even any Bedouins. The trip back up the Hijazi escarpment (it rises 6000 feet off the Tihama floor at that point) was marred only when our car encountered the remains of a late model full-sized Chevrolet sedan on the roadway with a dead camel on top of it. Apparently the camel had been sleeping on the roadway during the cool nighttime and this car full of Saudis had come careening along at breakneck speed in the dim dawn; seeing it too late to stop, the car hit the fully grown camel full-on and the camel was flipped up into the air and landed (all 1500 pounds of it or so) directly on top of the car, crushing it down flat to the level of the window sills. All we could see of the joyriding Saudi occupants were several arms poking out from under the camel, hanging down limply, and clearly not belonging to live Saudis. I recall thinking that this was another excellent example of why bicycle riding was far preferable to riding automobiles—at least in scenic Arabian wild desert areas full of camels that might be sleeping on the warm roadway. The speeds one reaches on a bicycle are so much lower, and riding full tilt into a camel on a mountain bike wouldn’t hurt one physically as much as it would hurt one’s dignity (not to mention that of the poor beast acting as an unintended roadway barrier).
Most of my cycling was done within the protected enclave of the Saudi National Guard Compound (wherein our SANG Hospital was located), close by Riyadh, but on occasion we would reconnoiter a location mostly away from major traffic areas and spend a day wheeling mountain-style free from any thought of imminent catastrophe. These were sometimes areas outside Riyadh shared by the so-called Riyadh 'Third Herd' of the Hash House Harriers (expat runners in KSA). Despite the rough terrain and hazards posed by the landscape there, parts and spares for our mountain style bikes could usually be found in the part of the Riyadh markets ('souks') containing bicycle merchants, but it is anyone's guess how all this has changed since the recent outbreak of Bin Ladin terrorist activities within KSA.
Riding a bicycle in Saudi Arabia was more most often more 'instructive' than self-destructive (fortunately), but even the daily possibilities of being run down within the SANG compound by the local bus transport lorry didn't prepare me adequately for bicycling in Taiwan! In rural areas of Taiwan, bicycling is still one of the many means of transportation--although far less so than on the mainland, where bicycling used to be (prior to the advent of wealth and material luxuries) primary transportation. Photographs of Beijing city streets taken back in the 60s and 70s reveal a seething mass of cyclists at any given moment of the day. This has now changed dramatically with the introduction of automobiles and the growth of the Chinese petroleum industry. Sadly enough, China is now plunging headlong in the same disastrous direction the US economy headed back in the early days of American reliance upon personal automobile transport.
Today,
now back in the USA (for what appears to be a permanent return to America), I
live and work in the Sacramento (California) area. While Sacramento is blessed
with a more well-developed than usual bicycle ethic (with active bicycle
enthusiast organisations and moderately influential bicycle advocacy groups
based here), the inherent reactivity of less-enlightened, automobile driving
individuals is readily palpable. While a primitive sort of 'bicycle awareness'
is growing among the general public, bicycles are for the main part still
considered 'toys', rather than a serious means of healthful alternative
transportation by the average person. Far too many Sacramento area motorists,
accustomed to flaunting urban speed limits and safe inner-city driving
practices, regard bicyclists in bike lanes as merely annoying nuisances that
tend to get in their way. This seems to be most particularly noticeable among
younger drivers, who are frightfully ignorant of basic automobile driving safety
to begin with, and older drivers to whom two-wheeled human powered
transportation seems an aberration. My own experience seems to generally indicate
that the larger the vehicle is, the more reactive its driver. Therefore,
bicyclists have the most to fear from jacked-up pickup trucks (with
'lifts'--usually a good sign that the driver is an arrested adolescent) and
performance cars (cars on 'steroids' that are usually also vibrating severely
with ultra-bass hip-hop tunes). Drivers of smaller cars may still pose a danger
from what I call 'house-mouse syndrome'...a complete lack of greater awareness
of ANYTHING, most often seen in your typical harassed 'house-mom' who is
scuttling frantically to transport the kids from place to place (or, conversely,
who is scuttling off to/from the office day-job).
As the present petroleum crisis continues to soar out of control (fueled--perhaps a poor choice of words here--by both events in the Middle East and the recent Hurricane Katrina catastrophe in the US Southern Gulf Coast area), it is even more important now than ever before to embrace the bicycle as a meaningful, healthy, and highly utilitarian alternative to use of personal automobiles for commuting to work within the immediate inner city. In a city such as Sacramento, the capitol of the State of California, a surprisingly large number of the residents are state workers (California State Civil Service) and a substantial number of them live within a 5 to 10 mile radius of the capitol building itself, a proximity that constitutes an almost 'perfect' bicycle commuting distance. Additionally, with the downtown parking situation long since having passed the meltdown state, there is even further impetus for commuters to adopt the bicycle as a means of getting to and from the office. I don't have to go into details on the positive aspects of daily bicycling, since it almost seems too obvious that regular aerobic activity of this sort confers substantial health benefits upon the cyclist, but when one factors in other considerations, the argument for use of a bicycle seems almost like a 'no-brainer'. Bicycles are easy to park, don't cost much to operate (fuel is the food you eat), and they also put you directly into nature and direct contact with others--whereas automobiles tend to cocoon people and insulate them from relating to nature (and other people). Aside from effects of adverse weather and litter carelessly left to accumulate on bike lanes, the only draw-backs to be encountered are posed by automobile drivers.
For bicyclists away from congested urban traffic concentrations there are hazards enough, but for inner-city bicycle commuters the game is often a serious one indeed. Even with nominally marked 'bicycle lanes' and signs reminding drivers of these designated bike routes, far too many drivers tend to ignore the proximity of bicyclists. Some even actively resent the presence of bicyclists and maintain a sort of antipathetic aggressive stance towards individuals riding bikes. Drivers preoccupied with cell-phone conversations add still another objective hazard for the bicycle commuter. Of course, not all bike riders ride safely and occasionally a perhaps less-aware bike rider will actually create antipathy in automobile drivers by taking stupid risks and making 'dumb moves'.
Unfortunately, as in your average cross-section of life, the range of awareness and ability among bicyclists also varies widely. While many are safety minded, an equal number are probably not, and that works against all of us. This encumbers the aware, safe rider with even more responsibility, as he or she must also contend with this unhappy aspect of bicycle riding, in addition to all the objective hazards already cited. That having been said, it seems only logical and rational that a safe rider must take whatever steps are prudent to avoid ending up as road-kill or some SUV's hood ornament in the course of the daily commute by bike.
In
terms of commute rider safety, one thing that continues to appall me is the fact
that style seems to frequently outweigh safety considerations in te design and
retail sale of protective equipment for bicyclists. All too often helmet
manufacturers offer their designs in what are regarded as 'cool' colors, instead
of high-visibility hues (this includes such 'conventionally cool' colors as
flat-black, camouflage, and other muted, hard-to-see tones). The first time I
ran across a bicycle safety helmet in earthy camouflage tones I thought to
myself "Are these people insane, or what?" Who in his right mind would
want to NOT be seen out there on the street, nakedly vulnerable to massive steel
vehicles weighing several tons on a fragile bicycle?! In this case (and in so
many others) manufacturers are pathetically pandering to the cool factor, rather
than trying to help protect the individual, simply because that's where the
bucks are. The moment you make anything institutionally 'cool', all logic and
reason entirely escape consideration. While it's bad enough for an individual to
eschew awareness of this sort, it is completely reprehensible for a commercial
business to do so (by conferring unsafe 'coolness' on an object and then selling
thousands of that object to ignorant consumers who either can't or don't think
reflectively). And yet that is the heart and soul of all American sales and
marketing. While most commercial companies protest they are simply 'giving the
public what it wants', the reality is (as any fool can tell you) that first that
vaunted 'want' is cleverly created by marketing and only THEN the item is
sold to those 'wanting' it. Marketing people obviously have an abysmally low
regard for the mentally of the average person (and sadly, that target is aptly
delineated in most cases).
Another aspect of bicycle safety equipment concerns bike helmets, also. The shape of bicycle helmets (with all their swoopy contours, 'ventilation' orifices, and aerodynamic styling details) is all too often substantially unsafe in certain situations. While the materials technology has finally risen to meet the protection needs of the wearer in terms of strength and protective qualities, the shape of the helmets has more to do with making people look less like "dorks on bikes" than on protecting them more adequately. Those sharp trailing ridges that characterise all the most expensive 'swoopy' style helmets have been shown in tests to pose a particular snagging hazard in certain types of falls, wherein one of those ridges may drag or catch on a rough area of the pavement and break the wearer's neck. Helmets with rounded cranial surfaces have been shown to be FAR safer than the dramatically stylised bike helmets, since they will slide over such projections without snagging, but rounded helmets don't have half the perceived 'sex appeal' that the swoopy ones do. Thus, the average guy is trading in protection for the the ubiquitous 'cool' factor once again, by wearing such a ridged, aerodynamically styled helmet, and the commercial manufacturers will argue that getting a guy to wear ANY helmet (even one that is slightly less safe) is actually better than having him prefer to ride without a helmet (because they 'look dorky').
As regards clothing for commuting bicyclists is concerned, there are two great needs as I see things: 1) better lower-body weather protection, and 2) enhanced upper and lower body visibility. Fortunately, high-visibility 'fluorescent' green is becoming a standard everywhere (studies have shown it to catch the eye even more than traditional 'bright oranges' commonly used in the past for this sort of clothing). Vests and sleeved garments with superior wind and rain resisting qualities are now available in this bright green color, but lower body garments (shorts, pants, socks, shoes, etc.) are still problematic. Tradition among bicyclists has given us tight-fitting black shorts and full-length tights to wear, with not much option in terms of colors. Part of this rather conservative impetus stems from a seemingly inherent reluctance to 'stand out' among males. I am sure some of the apparent resistance to form-fitting 'bike shorts' or tights derives from a sort of primitive homo-phobic fear of being perceived as somehow unmanly. A number of more conservative (and usually older) bicyclists appear reluctant to wear anything with Lycra/Nylon in it, perhaps associating tights with ballerinas and 'sissy-boys'. The fact that a popular manufacturer of men's sporting apparel now markets Nylon/Lycra tights under the description "Compression shorts" and touts the supposed muscle-efficiency enhancing nature of such garments vastly amuses me, since this apparently makes it acceptable for rough-tough 'he-men' to wear 'sissy-tights' (as long as they are described and marketed as ultra-manly items). The fact that professional football players have been wearing such form-fitting synthetic garments for years appears to have escaped the awareness of these homo-phobes that seem to be everywhere among us.
However, there's no escaping the fact that tight fitting lower-body wear just makes good sense on bicyclists, since the possibility of snagging clothing on chains, gears, and other exposed parts of the bike's drive-train remain as high now as they have been since the bicycle was invented. Hence, like it or not, Lycra/Nylon tights, shorts, et al, are here to stay. As for getting the manufacturers to make them in anything but basic black...well, that prospect seems doomed for the same reasons cited above. However, there are slightly looser outer pants now being made for bicyclists that are wind and water resistant; these can be made in highly visible colors and ought to be. Another recent innovation is synthetic fabric that reflects light in the dark. This is an excellent idea that ought to be incorporated into all bicycle clothing, including tunics, vests, wind-breakers, pants, shorts, and even shoes, since visibility concerns after dusk remain one of the greatest persistent worries of anyone traveling on two wheels.
There's
still much further development that needs to be done in water-resistant shoe
covers, bicycle booties, and pants, since those hard-core bicycle commuters
(like myself, who use a bicycle as their only means of transportation to the
office in all types of weather, year-round) need this sort of protective apparel
greatly if the daily slog to work is not to become an recurrent and acutely
uncomfortable ordeal. The good news is that waterproof gloves are now readily
available--formerly an important need for all cyclists who ride in cold weather.
In terms of street riding tactics for bicycle commuters in the inner-city environment, this is a very problematic area of concern. From a legal standpoint, bicyclists are presently required by law to conform absolutely congruently with all road, street, and highway traffic regulations. That means stopping at all stop-signs, yielding to traffic with right-of-way, and stopping for pedestrian (foot) traffic wherever and whenever encountered. Realistically, no legal mind seems to recognise the very real disparity between a bicycle's 150 pound human 'engine' and the 150 horsepower (or more) engine propelling an automobile. However, this severely disproportionate status has some rather large effects in terms of bicycle/automobile interactions. There is no way a bicyclist can compete with an automobile in acceleration from a standing stop, and yet disdainful (or simply ignorant) automobile drivers routinely exploit this radical inequity to cut bicyclists with the right of way off, or cross in front of them, or threaten their safety in the attempt, etc., etc. Since this seems to be the factual reality a bicyclist encounters in the street (as opposed to the responsible and fair-minded behavior all traffic laws are conceptually based upon), it seems natural that bicyclists need to resort (out of necessity) to tactics that help even up the score a bit. This may take the form of not stopping for a street stop-sign when there's no immediate traffic about, or quickly crossing against the traffic flow (and against the light) when there are no automobiles close enough to pose a realistic danger. Automobile drivers resent this sort of behavior by bicyclists, of course, since most drivers subconsciously resent anything that subjects them to a feeling of figurative 'inequity', and often become substantially incensed when a person on a bicycle takes this type of short-cutting line through an intersection. However, let a motorist pull a trick like this against a bicyclist obeying all the laws (i.e. deliberately failing to yield the right of way--behavior that essentially boils down to "bullying with one's car"--a practice also known as "threatening bodily harm with a dangerous weapon") and no one objects, since even the densest, most ignorant driver knows that 200 pounds of flesh and steel is no contest in a clash against 4 to 5 thousand pounds of homicidal inertia on wheels!
I have several times had interesting exchanges with various slightly more conservative bicycle advocacy proponents and spokespeople (an unintended pun, but how appropriate, eh?) on this very same subject, but I still feel that under the constraints of reality that affect all of us in the every day world out there, we bicyclists should be allowed to engage in any such 'survival tactics' that are not overtly foolish or downright unsafe. Any other set of conditions simply perpetuates the present severely hazardous disparity between bicyclists and motorists on mutually used roadways.
Whenever I think about the aggressively reactive and frequently downright hostile attitude many motorists maintain towards roadway bicycle users, I think back to time spent in the lovely nation of Finland, where ALL public roads and streets are built with physically separated bicycle lanes adjacent to them. Of course Finland is a rather small nation (less than 10 million people) and so infrastructural works such as roads and streets may be built more easily (with less resistance and opposition by automobile and petroleum industry lobbies). Still, it is an example that deserves more consideration by Americans...especially at a time when our future appears to be severely threatened by our pathological addiction to petroleum-fueled transportation systems. One of the lamentable disadvantages of American style democracy, of course, is that the same 'freedom' that guarantees the citizen his individual rights also guarantees corporations the right to commit massive amounts of money and lobbying effort towards achieving their distinct partisan economic agendas (i.e. make more money by selling products, regardless of whether that product harms greater society in any fair and unbiased consideration of its eventual impact on the nation's quality of life, and/or general welfare). If there are still a few ignorant, reactive souls driving cars in Finland, at LEAST they are kept separated from the bicyclists on bike lanes! That makes a big difference, and regardless of all the goody-good hype and PR spin touting that syrupy and largely ineffectual "Share the Road" doctrine that one encounters here in the USA (as bicyclists and motorists uneasily coexist on streets and roads together), in Finland at least these idiots and yahoos are not on same lanes with the bicyclists themselves!
One
of the greatest drawbacks of American commercial advertising & marketing
(already mentioned above, as the clever and powerfully funded co-opting of
youthful tendencies to reject convention, in order to sell products to those
same rebellious, but affluent adolescents) is the fact that American-style
capitalism subsists on an underlying ethic of exploitation without moral limits.
Understandably within such a power and capital-based socio-economic system as
ours, no one is going to go to any great lengths to embrace or promote policies
that serve the greater good...as long as there is still lots of fat to 
be
cut from the meat of consumer materialism. This operative ethic impacts the
ability of poorly funded bicycle proponents (or any populace-supported activist
group, for that matter) to actively plant and cultivate an awareness of the
benefits of bicycle transportation as an alternative to petroleum-fueled
transportation in the consuming public. Further compounding the problem is that
fact that so many people are simply abysmally stupid and unable to put it all
together for themselves (when I was younger, I gave the 'average' person more
credit for basic intelligence; I now know this to have been flagrantly
optimistic and idealistic and in fact the 'average' person is actually quite a dummy)
that an intense amount of social consciousness-raising will still yield
disproportionately inadequate results. In view of these daunting facts, getting
the public to get up off their figuratively (and factually) fat asses and plant
them on bicycle seats (to travel to the office) seems like a somewhat forlorn
hope. Still, as with any really cogent, rational, and uniformly beneficial
idea, one must continue to fight the battle.
Every day I read reports about acts of road-rage that are occurring more frequently on US highways. There are even increasing acts of "surf-rage" at ocean beaches (where surfers attack each other for a variety of imagined territorial infringements and 'turf intrusions' on 'home waves') known for excellent surf conditions. Most psychologists would be probably be quick to point to basic issues of over-crowding and/or severely increased population densities as precipitating causes of these incidents. Certain Skinner and many of his famous lab experiments substantiated the fact that as available resources become more severely encroached upon by living organisms, conflicts are inevitable. As bicyclists that are daily subjected to aggressive, rude acts of dangerous disregard by motorists, we bicycle commuters are routinely counseled to not react, to respond by not responding, and to ignore such behavior...lest we incite some marginally in-control individual to take homicidal exception. My response is NOT! I refuse to turn the other cheek docilely and let idiots and dipshits rule the roadways. If someone does something seriously stupid, they richly deserve to be reminded of their egregious behavior with an appropriate middle digit or a shouted epithet. Most (if not all) law enforcement agencies seem to think that bicyclists are all a bunch or reckless, unlawful, and socially irresponsible characters anyway and besides, there aren't enough law enforcement personnel to enforce all the laws we have on the books as it is (even if police did empathise with two-wheeled traffic, which they clearly and plainly don't). Therefore, I for one will continue to tell boorish thugs in 3 ton killer-SUVs to fuck-off as circumstances prompt and if they choose to try to run me over...well, they'd better get me on the first pass, is all I can (legally) say!
Isn't it sad that people who have a greater regard for the positive welfare of everyone (over the rights of mean, simple, and intellectually challenged people) always have to take the hits as the 'bad guy', when the real 'bad guys' are all the millions of pawns who are being manipulated by those 'ultimate bad guys' (the advertising and marketing people of corporate America) in America? Sort of makes one realise that development of a permanent an 'underdog' mentality is almost a given for any socially enlightened and responsible individual in today's (America tainted) world.
In a nation in which conservative right-wing Christians subtly assume a dangerous and threatening nature almost as frightening as that subscribed to by those truly insane Islamic terrorists...in a nation which insists it is not responsible for the continuing severe degradation of the home planet's life-sustaining environment, despite our continuing rape of oil and natural resources...in a nation that claims it is the ONLY one with the TRUE god on its side...in a nation in which all truth and fact has long since been cleverly substituted by the spin-doctored bullshit line that we are daily fed massive doses of...it is extremely more difficult to meet the challenge of ancient philosopher Marcus Aurelius Antoninus' 1st Century AD observation that "The chief goal in life is not to be in the majority, but to keep from joining the ranks of the insane", each passing day!
Meanwhile, as we still vestigially sane, mostly rational, and still somewhat caring individuals cope with this collective epochal challenge to our species' sanity, get out there and ride that bicycle to work! As Martha Stewart would probably put it: "It's a good thing!"
Geev'um, brahs & wahines!
Aloha nui loa, DocBoink........September 2005
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<NEXT MONTH: A 60s era 'Gremmie' reflects back on surfing before it was just another dirty $$$$$$$$$ industry!>
(Illustration at top: Artist Rick Rietveld's masterful symbolism of Albert Einstein's admonishment that everything is, after all, relative!)
(Sound effects: Old Alcatraz Island Gamewell F-2T Diaphone foghorn (high-low tone, removed in mid 70s and replaced with a modern electronic tone foghorn) and old Golden Gate Bridge Gamewell F Diaphone foghorn, a pair of which blew a single tone every 20 seconds in unison, whenever fog from 'Potato Patch Shoal' enveloped that famous bridge. I grew up with these glorious old San Francisco foghorns moaning in the background of my San Francisco infancy and I REALLY miss them. Unfortunately, they were complex, air-driven systems that required both massive pressure-generators and an 'on-site' keeper to maintain them--far too much expense in a modern era, in which automated systems have taken over both coastal warning beacons (lighthouses) and fog warning signals (foghorns). For some neat websites that explain how the classic old Diaphone foghorns worked, dial up: http://homepages.manx.net/fredd/diaphone.html and http://www.oceannavigator.com/article.php?a=1278 . )
[Some of my bikes, shown top to bottom: 1) 1997 Fuji Team; 2) 1992 Fuji Team; 3) 1986 KHS Montara Ascent; 4) 1984 Eddy Mercyx; 5) 1972 Peugeot PX-10; 6) 1987 Pinarello Cross; 7) 1982 Korean mountain bike (used in Saudi Arabia); 8) 1973 Auguste Sutter (Olmo)]
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