Vehicles of Equality

[image via cnn]

Last week many of us were following the #women2drive campaign in Saudi Arabia - a move organised via social media, where about 40 Saudi women drove cars in protest of their country's ban on female drivers. Saudi Arabia is the only country where it is currently prohibited for a woman to drive. The ban has become a symbol of gender inequality, while driving has become a symbol of freedom and women's liberation. It is unclear as of yet what effect the protest will have on Saudi policy toward women drivers. Meanwhile I've received an email from a cycling activist, asking whether I thought bicycles would at any point be incorporated into the movement.

[image via wn]

To clarify, women in Saudi Arabia are not permitted to cycle just as they're not permitted to drive. That is, they are allowed to be passengers on a bicycle, but not operators. The point of the ban is to prevent women from going off on their own, and so it applies to any vehicle that facilitates travel. However, I doubt that Saudi women will be getting on bicycles and staging a #women2ride movement any time soon. While in some cultures there is now a trend to associate cycling will freedom (freedom from dependence on fuel, from being stuck in traffic, from having to find parking, from hour-long commutes, from financial strain, etc.), the bicycle does not symbolise any of those things in Saudi Arabia. Neither does it symbolise travel, in the contemporary sense: A car can travel further and more efficiently if fuel is not an issue. In order for a group to protest not being able to engage in an activity, that activity has to be perceived as desirable. And I just don't think cycling has that status in Saudi Arabia.

[image via rfe/rl]

There are other issues to consider as well. Operating a bicycle is deemed "too sexy" by some government and religious figures in conservative Middle Eastern countries. In Iran there is technically no travel ban in effect for women, but the Iranian Women's Cycling Team was stopped by the police while training last October and told that the activity is not permitted in public, as it is too provocative.

There is also the question of safety. Driving in protest is safer than cycling in protest, as on a bicycle a person is more vulnerable to recognition, apprehension, and potential attack.

[image via bikehugger]

While in Western cultures the bicycle became a symbol of gender equality in the Edwardian era, I don't think that this can be applied to today's situation in countries where basic women's rights are being debated - particularly in the Middle East. The circumstances are too different. Should cycling activists feel threatened by the #women2drive initiative? I think that would be highly misguided. But the question of how to make bicycling more accessible to women in this region is worth considering.

Right of Way and Driver Education

Last night we were returning home on our bikes. As we approached an intersection where we needed to make a left turn, we signaled and moved to the leftmost part of the lane. A motorist approaching the same intersection behind us began to honk. We turned around, confused. The light had just turned red and all three of us were stopped at the intersection. She continued to honk. We asked what the problem was. She rolled down her window, and the conversation went something like this:

Motorist:  What the hell are you doing?!
We:  What do you mean?
Motorist: You're not supposed to be in front of me like that, you're blocking the road!
We: We're using the road just like you. Why are you honking?
Motorist: What the hell am I supposed to do when you're blocking my way?!
We: You're supposed to wait for us to turn.
Motorist: But you're not supposed to be there if I need to get by. You don't have the right of way!
We: What? Of course we have the right of way, we were here first.
Motorist: Unless you're in the bike lane, you do not have the right of way! You're supposed to let me get by!
We: Bicycles have the right of way just like any other vehicle.
Motorist: Not if you're not in the bike lane!
We: Yes. Check your facts.
Motorist: No! You check your facts!

I don't know how things would have gone had the light not turned green at that point, but it did. The motorist floored the gas pedal and veered around us in order to proceed straight as we made our left turn.

It's not so much the motorist's rudeness that I found alarming  (she was screaming at us), but the fact that she genuinely believed that cyclists did not have the right of way unless they were in the bike lane. In other words, she thought that if a cyclist needed to make a left turn, they must stand aside and wait for all the cars behind them to pass before they were allowed to proceed. This is blatantly incorrect, but that doesn't help any in situations like this.

In my view, lack of drivers' awareness about bicycling laws is largely responsible for cyclist-motorist confrontations. When I first began riding a bike in Boston, drivers would occasionally scold me for "breaking the law" (i.e. cycling on the road). Now that bicycles have become more common this seldom happens, but yesterday's encounter shows that misunderstanding of road rules still exists. I've read that in areas where this is especially bad, cyclists have taken to carrying copies of local bicycle laws and handing them out to motorists who harass them. That is further than I personally would want to go. But it seems to me that some driver's ed initiative is in order - especially if a city is actively striving to be more "bicycle friendly."

That Fateful Click

[image via GarySe7en]

So you're pedaling along a bike lane. Ever vigilant and keeping out of the door zone - or at least so you hope. And then, as you are cycling past a particular car - right at the very moment you are parallel to it - you hear that sound... that fateful click which accompanies the pulling of a car's door handle and precedes the flinging open of the door itself. You hear it, and your body reacts before you even have time to register a thought, let alone evaluate the situation and make a decision. Am I in the door zone? Will the swinging door hit me? If I swerve to the left, will I be in the path of car traffic? It hardly matters. The reaction to that click is a knee-jerk response. And what will it be?

Hurrying home at dusk with a pannier full of hot Indian take-out, I heard the blood-chilling click whilst passing a blue sedan. My knee-jerk response was to let out a pitiful yelp and hammer down on the pedals with all my might. I heard the door swing open a fraction of a second later. Would I have cleared it anyway? Very possibly. I really do my best to stay to the left in the bike lane. But our danger-evading instincts are strong and do not always work in our favour. I could have slammed the brakes. I could have swerved into traffic. We can't always control how we react when adrenaline floods our system.

It's times like these I wish that bike lanes weren't placed directly in the door-zone half the time. I know, what a tiresomely clichéd complaint.

Zipcar... Not at All Like Bikeshare

So, we have finally signed up for Zipcar, and I thought it might be useful to share my impressions. While I had imagined a motorised version of a bikeshare program, Zipcar is a different thing entirely.

Here is how it works: First you buy a yearly membership. It is worth noting that some employers have programs for employees to try it free, which was the case with us - but otherwise it's $60 per year plus a $25 application fee (so essentially you pay $85 to sign up). You are then able to rent a Zipcar by the hour at rates that start at $7.50 per hour. The rate depends on the type of car you need. So, for instance, a compact sedan might be $7.50, but a truck or SUV would be more like $12. You can also rent a Zipcar for an entire day, and the daily rates start from $69. To use a car you must reserve it, which can be done online or via smartphone. You specify in advance the exact time you will be getting and returning the car, and when finished, you must return the car to the same location from which you got it.

I can see how this system would be useful for those who need a car for short and pre-planned trips to the grocery/  hardware/ furniture store, or for meetings with clients that are short and finite in nature. However, our needs are different and there is no way Zipcar would work for us in most circumstances.

Scenario 1: We need to go to our photo studio or to a photoshoot in a far-off location, and to bring a bunch of enormous equipment with us. We will then be staying there for 5 hours working, maybe longer - depends how it goes. And it's the weekend.

Problems: We'd have to rent the car for en entire day, because at the hourly rate it would not be worth it. Either way, the rate would be quite high, because we'd need a large vehicle. Additionally Zipcar's weekend rates are higher than weekday rates, which would make the fee greater still. Car rental makes more sense than Zipcar.

Scenario 2: There is an urgent situation and we need a car right away.

Problems: We check the Zipcar reservation site and there are no cars available in any locations within 2 miles from us for the next hour and a half (This is true: I just checked). We also do not know for how long we need the car - could be 45 minutes, or could be 3 hours. A taxi makes more sense than Zipcar.

So... since 90% of the times we need a car, it is one of the above scenarios, Zipcar is not really the right choice for us. However, I think that if Zipcar worked more like a bikeshare program, it could be more useful for everyone. In many areas, there is a dense grid of Zipcar locations - so why not make it so that a car can be checked out from one location and returned to another? I am sure there are good logistical reasons why this is not done, and as always no system is perfect. I hope this was useful for those considering a Zipcar membership and wondering how the system works.

No Car, Must Travel

It has been two and a half months now without the car - pretty much the entire winter. For the most part we did not miss it. But now that the blizzards have subsided, it is time to get things done. We'll start going on photoshoots and other trips again soon, and there are other ways in which we will need it as well. This weekend was our first experiment with alternative options.

I needed to get to Harris Cyclery (10 miles away) to drop off a bicycle along with some extra wheels and rims, since they'll be building new wheels for the Bella Ciao Superba prototype and also replacing the headset. After considering various options, we decided to take a taxi there with all the stuff, then take the commuter train back. Ordering the taxi, we specified that there would be two people plus a bicycle. Nevertheless, they sent a small sedan and great fun was had by all as we stuffed both me and the bicycle in the back seat. Still, we managed to fit everything in and arrived at Harris without incident. The fee for the taxi was reasonable. Total time for the trip, including calling and waiting for a taxi, wrangling in the bicycle, and the drive itself: 1 hour. Had we rented a car, it probably would have taken longer than the taxi, as a result of having to first go and get the rental. Had we driven our own car, it would have taken 30 minutes.

After getting done everything that we needed done, we had several hours to kill before heading back. The Saturday train schedule limited our choice for when to travel considerably: There was basically one train in the early afternoon and another late at night. So we test rode some Moultons and wandered around the three shops on the Main street, before heading for the Commuter Rail station.

We arrived several minutes early. The station is outdoors and the train was 7 minutes late. In freezing temperatures, that wait is more difficult to endure than it sounds. The other people on the platform looked miserable as they paced back and forth to keep warm and cursed the train's (apparently habitual) lateness.

But finally it arrived, and thankfully it was warm inside. The numbness in my face began to subside as we headed toward Boston. Once in the city, we transferred to the subway, then walked home from the station.

Total time for the trip, including waiting for the commuter train, transferring onto the subway line and walking home: 1 hour 15 minutes. But if we include the time wasted because of the spotty train schedule, then the return trip was really over 3 hours. Had we driven our own car, it would have been 30 minutes. In other words, an activity that would have taken us a total of two hours had we used our private vehicle, wound up taking up half of our day - which is not exactly a success story. Next time we will give car rental or zipcar a go, but it is too bad that public transportation in the greater Boston area is not more convenient.

Stop, Look Around...

All the walking I've been doing lately on account of the weather has made me pay even closer attention to my surroundings than I do while cycling. Everything looks different in the snow - elegant and magical. The thin patch of woods near my house has turned into a majestic white forest worthy of a 19th century Scandinavian painting. It's as if the sky was squeezed straight out of a tube of cerulean blue and the austere vertical strokes of the trees were applied with a pallet knife. It's not my style, but I am certain this scene has been painted many times. It's archetypal.

Upon emerging from the pristine wonderland, I came face to face with this. Literally: It was located at face level, and in my willingness to submerge myself so fully in my daydream, I nearly walked into it.

The city is using excavators to facilitate snow removal, as the plows alone are not enough. The effect is interesting, making the neighbourhood look like an igloo construction zone. In order to clear the center of the roads, the excavator dumps more and more snow to the sides - creating monstrous, densely packed snowbanks that line the streets like the walls of some arctic city-state.

Walking on the sidewalk is a surreal experience. You are essentially in a tunnel - with buildings on one side, igloo wall on the other. Along some stretches, the snowbanks are taller than the average human height, so as a pedestrian I can only see the sidewalk in front of me and not the road to the side of me.

Those "Do Not Enter" and "Except Bicycles" signs are for a one-way side street that has a bike lane going in the direction against traffic. For most of last winter the lane looked like this. How cute that I complained about it then: This year it's been swallowed up by the snow banks entirely.

It is not uncommon to encounter bicycles "buried alive." There were actually three separate bicycles inside this snowbank.

Less common is the sight of a bicycle being ridden - but it happens, especially on the heavily salted main roads. Note how the yellow crosswalk sign, its reflection in the puddle, and the golden light of the setting sun play off the colours in the cyclist's knitted hat - all of it especially noticeable against the white, snowy backdrop. Somehow, everything seems to be reminding me of a painting these days. Certainly this person and his hat deserve to be painted.

It's been over a month and a half now without the car. We signed up for zipcar through the Co-Habitant's work, but have not used it yet. And ironically, the blizzards are making it easier to do without: With the roads as bad as they are, we wouldn't have been traveling to any photoshoots up North anyway, and so we don't feel as if not having our car is keeping us from accomplishing anything. We'll get the car fixed as it gets closer to Spring. But for now, it's been remarkably easy to just forget about that thing and for us both to get around entirely on foot and bike. And with so many snow days, I am rediscovering walking - which I appreciate for making me stop, look around, and see my neighborhood in a new light.

Winter Starts without the Car

Sometime in December, the car which I don't myself drive but share with the Co-Habitant, announced to us that it needs some work. It's not a big problem, but it's quirky. Unable to agree on how to go about getting it resolved, our solution was to put off the decision until we have more time and can think clearly. In the meanwhile, we have been automobile-free for about three weeks - just in time for the snow!

As far as everyday necessities go, we have felt no adverse effects so far from the lack of car. The Co-Habitant typically cycles to work anyhow, and I always cycle to my meetings and errands. We can (though normally don't always) go grocery shopping by bike. And other crucial destinations - post office, bank, hardware store, art supply store, etc. - are within manageable distance as well. When the streets were un-cyclable during the blizzard, we worked from home and walked to the grocery store. If anything, not having a car feels liberating in this respect.

The problematic aspects surface when it comes to long-distance trips. For instance, our photo studio is 14 miles away. It is accessible via the subway system, but the T stop is a considerable walk from our house. That is okay, except that sometimes we transport huge and fragile objects to and from the studio - and that cannot really be done properly other than in our car.  We also travel to remote places for photoshoots - and those trips will be suspended until the car is available again. There are other things, like not being able to go to specific supply stores that are in bicycle-unfriendly locations, as well as trips that involve large and heavy cargo. So far we have dealt with these things by either finding alternative (but not ideal) solutions, or postponing them. And while so far that's been fine, I wonder how we will feel about it after several more weeks pass.

At the heart of my transportation preferences is a need to feel independent, and most of the time cycling fulfills this need for me better than other options. But sometimes the car is the appropriate tool for the job, and I have nothing but respect for the automobile in that context. I am hoping this carless period will clarify for us, what it is that we actually need from the car given our current lifestyle.

A Pedestrian Walking Their Bicycle is Still a Pedestrian

Lately I've felt some hostility from drivers when crossing the street while walking my bicycle. Is it the holiday spirit setting in? Either way, it's as if drivers see the bicycle and are incapable of processing me as a pedestrian, even though I am walking. The reactions have ranged from impatience at crosswalks - including honking, presumably so that I'd cross faster - to downright continuing to drive as if I were not there, even when I am already in the process of crossing the street. I have seen it happen to others as well.

A pedestrian with a bicycle is still a pedestrian. They are not any slower than a person wheeling a shopping cart or a baby stroller, so there is no reason why they should be any more "annoying." Does the mere sight of a bicycle enrage some drivers so such an extent, so as to warrant the extra hostility? That would be a sad state of affairs.

Taking It Personally or Taking It in Stride?

When drivers behave rudely towards us, we tend to perceive them as being "hostile to cyclists".  But what I wonder sometimes, is whether this is a fair assessment given how drivers behave to one another.

Consider that...
Drivers honk at each other all the time.
Drivers cut each other off.
Drivers roll down their windows and shout "learn how to drive, you moron!" at one another while making indecent hand gestures - even if they are the ones at fault.

Is driver behaviour towards cyclists really worse than their behaviour towards other drivers? And if not, should we just take it in stride, rather than taking it personally? One could make that argument.

Of course, the big difference between intimidating other drivers and intimidating cyclists, is that cyclists are considerably more vulnerable - something I am highly aware of when a driver plays "chicken" with me while turning left at full speed as I am trying to go straight through an intersection, on a green light. Bike lanes and protected bike paths do little if anything to solve this problem if there are no cyclist-specific lights at intersections. It is difficult to take things in stride when the competition is stacked against me both in terms of speed and in terms of safety. But I try to remember not to take it personally.

Car Talk... Recollections of a Wilted Romance

Here is a confession: I feel guilty about my car - or rather, what used to be my car.

My poor car, once so beloved! I received it as a gift from my family six years ago, after I earned my doctorate and was about to start a new job in a mountainous region of Northern New England. It was the most lavish gift I have received in my life by far, either before or since, and I was filled with gratitude and disbelief. The car was beautiful and impeccably tasteful and rugged, and my excitement knew no bounds. The exterior was a lovely shade of dark gray and the interior was beige suede (I still remember the texture and smell of the seats when the car was new). The 4WD, the optional manual mode, and the myriad of safety features would keep me protected on the treacherous terrain of the place I was to live (and commute for over 20 miles to work). I named the car, and loved it as if it were a puppy. And I delighted in my long commutes - through the valleys past idyllic farm scenes and along dangerous mountain cliffs through the clouds of thick fog that would rise in the mornings. 

Everybody was relieved at my reaction to the car, because I had never been an enthusiastic driver in my previous attempts at car ownership. By my early twenties I had dispensed with cars altogether, living in urban areas where they weren't necessary. Interestingly, this was viewed by many as a lack of self-sufficiency on my part: By living in cities, not practicing driving, and allowing my already questionable motoring skills to deteriorate, I was making myself dependent on urban comforts and public transportation. This new job in a rural area demanded a re-adjustment.

My romance with the new car lasted into winter... until I got into a horrifying accident involving darkness, black ice, fresh snow, a cliff and a railing - into which I crashed head-on after losing control on a turn. Miraculously, I emerged unscathed. And though the front end of the car was totaled, my insurance company came through wonderfully and soon the car was good as new. According to the policemen on the scene, that stretch of the road was so bad that night, that "there was nothing anyone could have done different, except not be out on the road". Not an option of course, when commuting home from a long workday.

I cannot say that I began to dislike or fear cars after this event; it was nothing so dramatic or definite. And I continued to drive throughout that winter and the next, in the same dangerous snow and ice, with no further mishaps. But I no longer thought of my car anthropomorphically, no longer considered it cute. It had become just a thing - a necessary thing, but a dangerous one, too, as well as a stuffy and oppressive one at times. Somehow I no longer saw the charm in the beige suede interior or the beauty of the tasteful gray exterior. It was just a car - something that made sense to use only when the necessity outweighed the danger and the feeling of stuffiness, but not otherwise. It was an excellent car, to be sure - useful especially in rural areas, and great for hauling things in its roomy interior. But just a car.

Several years after I got married, we moved to Boston. Within a week, we decided that the Co-Habitant would sell his car and mine would be shared. This was in no way driven by "ideology" on our part; it was simply absurdly inconvenient to have two cars in Boston, and since his was larger than mine, it was the one to go.

When the decision was made to share my car, I hardly suspected that I would never drive it again, but that is exactly what happened. I have not been behind the wheel of it or any other motor vehicle since sometime in 2007, over three years ago now. I have no idea why, and it was never my intention to categorically stop driving. But soon I found that I would rather walk to my destination for an hour than drive there (which was exactly what I did before I started cycling). What used to be my car now pretty much belongs to the Co-Habitant; I experience no feelings of possession when I look at it or sit in the passenger's seat while traveling together.

Will I drive again? Realistically speaking, I probably will, though I don't know when that might be. I am not "anti-car" and consider cars to be useful and necessary in many circumstances. But I cannot imagine wanting to drive just for the sake of it, or loving a car in the same way as I do my bicycles.

Crime vs. Accident?

I was cycling across town with a friend today, who suggested that we take the side streets instead of my usual route along the major roads. We were cycling on one of these quiet streets, when a sedan passed us too closely and hit my friend's bicycle with the side of their car.

The impact was not strong enough to knock the bicycle over, but it did happen - and the driver kept going until forced to stop at a red light. We caught up to the driver, and my friend quickly took a cell-phone picture of the license plate - at which point the driver stopped the car and came out, expressing annoyance. My friend said, "You hit me with your car." The driver replied, "Well, you should have been more careful!" (More careful? We were cycling in a straight line in broad daylight!) At that point my friend took out their phone and called the police - telling the driver that they were going to file a report. Bewildered ("The police? But you're fine!") the driver got back in their car, pulled over to the side of the road, and we all waited.

The officer arrived and asked whether anybody was injured and whether there was any damage to the bicycle. When we replied in the negative, the officer seemed confused: "So there is nothing to do here then." We repeated that the driver hit my friend with their car, to which the officer (politely) replied, "Well, if nobody was injured and there is no damage to your bicycle, that's not a crime. That's an accident." He then proceeded to file a report of the "accident," stressing verbally that there has been no injury or material damage. Both my friend and the driver gave testimony, and I gave testimony as a witness. We were then informed of where and when we could pick up a copy of the report, and everyone went their separate ways.

And this brings me to my question. Is it correct, that unless a driver actually injures a cyclist or damages a bicycle while hitting them, then hitting a cyclist in itself is not illegal? That is basically what the officer was telling us, but it does not sound right to me. What about the "passing no closer than 3 feet" rule? If a driver hits a cyclist while passing, does that not automatically mean that they were closer than 3 feet?  The driver was unapologetic about what happened, and did not deny that they saw us prior to hitting my friend's bicycle. Yet the officer did not even ask the driver why they did not pass us at a safer distance. Perhaps what the officer meant to express, was that there was no way to determine what actually happened without video cameras or tangible evidence (such as injury or damage to the bicycle) - but his words did not come across that way.

Regardless of the outcome, I am glad that my friend filed a report. As I understand it, these things get entered into the DOT statistical data, and can lead to the development of safer infrastructure on that street if enough such incidents are reported. But I remain confused about what type of collision between motor vehicle and bicycle constitutes an illegal act versus what constitutes an accident. Can any of the cycling activists out there fill me in?