A case against bike lanes

First of all, hear me out.

Rather than use this post to complain about motorists, I'd like to instead form an organized argument against bike lanes -- both the infrastructure and the philosophy behind it. I want a dialogue, not a rant.

I bring this topic up for a few reasons...

Critical Mass - October 2009

1. Relevance: I ride a bike on Philly streets nearly every day, and have for the past 3 years.
2. Frustration: Recent run-ins with disgruntled and irrational drivers has made me raw.
3. Timeliness: City Hall plans to implement new lanes on 10th & 13th streets.

Bike lanes have a pretty good rap. They're often used as an indicator of the bike-friendliness of a city. And for good reason I suppose.

At the very least, it demonstrates that the city recognizes a cycling community. Furthermore, their presence acknowledges bicycles as machines that belong on the asphalt.

For the rider, bike lanes feel pretty good. They tend to be car-free, which makes a rider feel safer.

But there always seems to be a catch.

Sure, we're permitted to ride on the road. In fact, by law we're permitted to take a full lane for ourselves. But the bike lanes imply that we should only ride between the white lines. Thus, some drivers take it upon themselves to enforce this implication by yelling at riders outside the bike lane. In cases where there aren't any bike lanes painted on the road, the rider is still expected to stay far to the right, pinned between moving traffic and parked cars with unpredictable doors.

These lanes also make bicyclists invisible. Why else would drivers make so many right turns, or pull into the bike lane with their 4-ways on, despite the looming two-wheeler in their side mirrors?

It's as if the left edge of the bike lane represents an invisible shield through which drivers cannot see. And the moment we choose to move to the left to avoid a stalled bus, glass, or the occasional door, we suddenly appear within the driver's visual field. And they either honk or sideswipe us. Some states have implemented a law that requires motorists to give cyclists at least three feet of space between them while passing. In other words, we're forcing cars to notice us to avoid this shit.

The ultimate catch is what they expect from cyclists in exchange for these precious accomodations (bike racks, lanes, etc.). Earlier this spring, Philadelphia Police Department launched their "Give Respect - Get Respect" campaign for motorists, cyclists, and pedestrians.

While I agree with some of their sentiments (don't ride on the sidewalks, wear a helmet, don't use a cell phone while riding), I do not agree with the ticketing of cyclists for these "transgressions." For two main reasons.

1. Charging a $54 fine for something like riding on the sidewalk could significantly deter some riders from using a bicycle at all. The city has failed to consider why someone might ride on the sidewalk (i.e. the slowest way to get anywhere). This population consists of mostly inexperienced riders, as well as delivery guys. Both are probably terrified of being hit by a car. Why? Because cars can be fuckin' aggro as shit.

 2. The underlying message of this campaign is that if the city gives us (bikers) room to move around, we should return the favor by following their laws. The laws that were written and designed with cars in mind. Fuck that. I avoid certain activities like chatting on the phone, riding without a helmet, and riding on the sidewalk because they are unsafe, not because I respect Philadelphia government.

The city would like to think that they've done a lot for cyclists: transforming old parking meters into shitty bike racks, painting bike lanes that disappear for the winter under piles of snow, and taking pictures of the mayor wearing a helmet.

But most of the time, we're either pushed aside or lumped in with cars. And we're not cars.

Tour de Bronx - October 2010

I guess what I'm trying to say is bike lanes do not equal respect. The cycling community has exploded in Philadelphia over the last five years, and yet our laws have remained the same. Sure, the city has added new laws, but they have yet to alter those that were problematic in the first place.

Futhermore, "respect" from the city does not equal respect from its drivers. They're still going to honk and yell any time a rider tries to take the lane.

Respect will be achieved once the city acknowledges that the entire transportation infrastructure must be changed if they really want to accommodate cyclists completely. What this infrastructure change involves, I don't know exactly. But bike lanes don't really mean shit.

So for now I'm going to keep cruising, using my eyes, ears, and helmet to keep me safe.

Philadippy

"Have you ever seen so many hippies in one room?" my father asked in reference to me and my friends at my graduation party earlier this year.

My guess is that his main indicators for this kind of labeling were as follows:

- hair (long, dreads, beards)

- smell (some BO, maybe a little tea tree)

- clothes (second-hand, worn out sneakers)

I think that when I was 15 and I bought a long skirt and started listening to Bob Dylan, my dad decided I was a hippie. Even now when I dress either like a 13-year-old boy or a 90's mom, I'm pretty sure he'd hold his ground. After all, my legs and pits are hairy, I follow a veggie lifestyle, and I still listen to Bob Dylan.

In high school, I'd say I was a wannabe hippie.

The skirt, the

clogs, the

music, the

herb, and the

diet.

But one thing I didn't really have was the attitude. Sure I wanted peace, love, and harmony, but wasn't ready to fight for it, or sing about it. 

I went to all the drum circles, but was usually bored the whole time.

Guy Wathen/Tribune-Review (Greensburg, PA)

That's probably why this phase didn't really last all that long. And Philly isn't really any kind of mecca for hippies. So my skirt was doomed from the start, I guess.

Yet, when I moved here, I never really noticed the lack of hippies.

Until a couple weeks ago. My roommates attended a drum circle (hadn't heard that in a long time) deep in the belly of Fairmount Park. They said there must have been 100 people or so participating.

Holy shit. Where did all these hippies come from?

I started thinking about Philly neighborhoods and where these hippies could be hiding. I've seen dreads, vegans, and yogis all over this city, but not too many I would consider reminiscent of my Western PA teenage upbringing. And I live in West Philly.

One interwebber made a good point on this forum discussing hippie communities in the greater Philadelphia area:

I like to think that folks on this coast are rather impatient with the left coast, identity politics, "check me out, look how far out I am" crowd. 

It doesn't mean we don't ride bikes, drink organic soymilk, eat granola and drive cars that run on fryer grease . . . we just don't wear it on our sleeves. 

You'll find most of what you're looking in West Philly but it's certainly not a hippy aesthetic. Lots of anarchist enterprises in the neighborhood to include a food co-op, tool share, cafe, bar, a land trust and a book store off of South St.

Ok, so you might ride bikes and go to independent bookstores. But that still doesn't make you a hippie in the sense that I know hippies...

When I was 18, I sat in the attic of a house in rural Western PA with approximately 10 other people, mostly older than me, for a drum circle that went until approximately 6:00 AM. 

The house was pretty small -- just a kitchen, bathroom and a large, lofty bedroom that the couple and their daughter shared. They also had a vegetable patch, which at this point was dead and frigid because it was February. The couple planned to homeschool their young daughter, as this mission against government-funded indoctrination was written all over their kitchen cupboards. 

I was ready to leave after about an hour but had to wait for my ride home. There were drums, shakers, space cookies, reiki massages, and a dog. I fell asleep for a while with the dog on the floor. 

That was it, man. That was a hippie household. Off the grid. Truly anti-establishment. But solidly working for peaceful coexistence. And I was fuckin' bored.

So I'm thinking that the huge crowd in Fairmount Park that meet regularly for mega drum circles are not like the hippies I met in my hometown.

I mean, wouldn't living in the big city with a hippie philosophy wear you down? It's a fast-paced, heavily polluted lifestyle that doesn't really mesh with free love.

Or does the city just make you adapt? And if so, are you a still a hippie?

PS. The church linked above ultimately won the zoning battle, but lost the drug war.

Newbie post

A few weeks ago, I realized that my stint in Philadelphia would be ending very soon. Less than three months left in this city until I return back to the other corner of the state to temporarily stay with my 'rents. And less than six months until I leave the country.

Less than three months left of a four-year-long saga. And I have no proof.

Other than Facebook updates, I really don't have any long-lasting proof that I lived here. That I occupied a certain space for a certain period of time.

I haven't owned a camera since the summer of 2007 when my last point-and-shoot died in Spain. A few months later and I was urban-livin' on Temple University's main campus. I convinced myself that there was no need to replace my camera because I was all about living in the moment, man.

After all, I was still keeping a journal. But that journal progressively turned into a compilation of dream descriptions, potential song lyrics, & to-do lists. Thus, mostly what I would like to do, or think of doing.

But no documentation of what I've actually been doing in Philly -- the people I've met, places I've seen, food I've eaten, shows I've seen, bars out of which I've stumbled, cars I've cursed, conversations I've heard, or the kittens I've petted.

I'd like to avoid making this blog what it seems: the life of a frustrated but contentedly bored college graduate with no job prospects or children. 

Several weeks ago when I purchased my one-way ticket outta here, my life became impermanent. Maybe it was even when I was going to school, but there were more obligations than lie ahead of me now. Philly is fading away as new frontiers come into sight. Changes are afoot, and they will become the standard over the next few years.

This blog will document my impermanence, as I simultaneously fulfill my urge to write things down and fill you in. I'm looking to communicate with the outside world in the only way the millennial generation knows how: the Internet.

Get fuckin' psyched.