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Educating enforcement

Posted on March 11, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

After my own crash a few years ago, I decided that I had to figure out a way to expand my reach in educating people about “smart cycling,” as it’s called by the League of American Bicyclists. I enjoyed (and still do) seeing the “Aha!” moments when riders, both new and experienced, begin to understand how to make themselves better bicycle drivers. But I wanted to impact more people.

I started looking around, and found one way to do that. I started working with police officers, talking about the application of motor vehicle law to bicyclists.

Now you’re thinking, “But wait. These people know motor vehicle law! What can you teach them about it that they don’t already know?”

When you drive a car, you see “traffic” as motor vehicles. You probably don’t think of bicycle drivers as part of traffic. From behind the handlebars, traffic looks a whole lot different:

motorists often aren’t even aware that you’re on the road
some motorists will actually create dangerous situations meant to frighten or hurt bicycle drivers

Patrol officers working in traffic often share the same perspective as other motorists. They may or may not be aware that people riding bicycles have all the rights and all the duties of drivers of motor vehicles. Even if they are, when it comes to enforcement, it’s hard to shake the perspective that they get from inside a metal box weighing a couple of thousand pounds.

That’s where my effort comes in. I put together a class that brings officers together to try to change that perspective. We spend a half day in the classroom, going through the “three E’s:” Engineering, Education and Enforcement. In those sessions we talk about road design/infrastructure, education (of the public at large – and meanwhile, we’re giving them a lot of the same information!) and equitable enforcement of the law.

Then we go ride bikes! First, we teach the same avoidance drills that we teach to the public. Then we go for a ride, incorporating all the principles we discussed in the classroom. We ride on as many types of roads as we can: narrow, wide, busy, quiet. Roads with bike lanes, shared paths. Major highways and residential streets. In other words, all the roads that the public uses to ride bicycles.

That’s when the “Aha!” moments happen. Officers who have never spent any time on a bicycle suddenly feel vulnerable. They begin to understand why bicyclists will take up lane positions that, until that ride, seemed crazy. And many of them will begin to understand how driving a bicycle like a car leads to more effective, confident and visible bicycle driving.

I’ve heard comments like:
“I have a lot more respect for people who ride bikes now.”

“It actually feels more comfortable when I’m riding in the middle of the lane instead of up against the curb.”

“Until I started riding, I never would have believed that drivers would actually try to use their cars to assault me.”

So at the end of the day, I have a small group of officers with a bit of a different perspective on all those people on bikes. How does that meet my goal? My hope is that those officers will take that perspective out into their dealings with bicyclists and motorists. I’ve learned that this is happening: Feedback from participants in the last series of classes indicated that they are looking at things differently! In fact, officers responded that they are using the information from the course to educate motorists and bicyclists. Mission accomplished.

I also hope that they will go back to their departments and share what they’ve learned with other officers. I don’t know whether this has happened.

I’ll continue to offer this training. Eight more sessions will be offered in New Jersey in 2017, and I’m really close to getting it started in Louisiana, too.

Slowly but surely, we’ll change the way people react to bicyclists.

The hills are alive…

Posted on March 4, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“[Motorists] do not understand speed the same way we do. They know it only from the seat of a car, so they have no idea of the force and finesse required to propel a person on a bicycle at twenty miles per hour, let alone twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five – or the inhumane forty-plus hit by the great sprinters and trackies. Real people might remember from a physics class that wind speed increases exponentially rather than linearly with speed, but they have never been taught this by having the wind punch them in the face then swirl down their bodies and settle around their legs like concrete. Their loss.”

Bill Strickland, The Quotable Cyclist

Their loss, indeed. I have heard many bicycle riders say that they love to ride their bikes, but that they really don’t enjoy riding on hills. Why not? For many, it’s probably that they find the climb uncomfortable, or just too much work. Sure, it seems like there’s less work involved when riding flat roads or trails. The thing I don’t like about riding flats is that I have to keep pedaling! I never get a break. If I stop pedaling, I fall down…But seriously, there’s never a break. Hills provide the wonderful feeling of coasting freely, and even accelerating, down the road/trail, relying only on gravity to propel you faster and faster towards your destination.

Riding a bicycle also changes your perception – that road that you thought was flat turns out to be undulating, rolling up and down in small, but real cycles of ascent and descent. Unless you ride only on towpaths and rails-to-trails conversions, you will face hills…small though they may be. You know it is so because your legs tell you it is so.

To my mind, the joy of descending more than makes up for the work of ascending. Yes, it can be hard. But it’s worth every moment. Your legs become stronger every time you do it. You heart beats faster to bring oxygen and nutrients to the tiring leg muscles. Your lungs work harder to bring in even more breath. And then the joy of the descent! About as close to flying as one can get.

I miss the hills.

coming back to the bike

Posted on March 2, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“It’s when you come back to bicycling, after long dispractice, that you realize how exquisite a physical art it is.”

–Christopher Morley, author, The Romany Stain

Long dispractice.

Yep. Bought property. Sold property. Moved across the country. Fix up/ decorate/ make the house ours. Inertia. Not an urban rider. Few roads for road riding. Don’t want to get in the car to go for a bike ride! No one to ride with.

I’ve managed to come up with a number of excuses not to ride since our big move. Recently, though, I’ve gotten out a bit more. Mostly in town, but on a couple of occasions I’ve gone out to the Mississippi River Trail. You ride on the top of the levee. [Back to excuses: The scenery doesn’t change. It’s boring. It’s all flat.] “Well, buddy, you knew that going in.”

In some ways, New Orleans is a very bicycle-friendly city. There are LOTS more riders out there these days. The city is putting in bike lanes all over town. A bike-share program will launch this fall.

But in other ways, it’s still a bit problematic. Motorists don’t always know how to drive with people on bicycles on the road. Many of the bike lanes are “door-zone bike lanes,” which are potentially an accident waiting to happen.

But if you’ve been reading my blog, you know that there is joy in riding here. The sights, sounds, smells of the city. The greeting called out to passers-by, and their happy response. The understanding that I wouldn’t have really saved any time by getting in the car and driving to many places I want or need to go!

And, as Mr. Morley points out, the exquisite physical art that is riding a bicycle. Legs pumping, heart beating, lungs hard at work: the unconscious dance that is balancing the bike, a skill that you likely learned as a child. Arms signaling, head turning, negotiating with motorists: the conscious dance that is riding in traffic, the skill you are still learning as an adult.

It is an art. A beautiful composition. A bike, the most efficient form of transportation in the world (this will be a future post!). A rider, whether for pleasure or utility, elegantly moving from place to place.

I’ll be doing more of it.

I see…people

Posted on February 18, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“I want to kill a bicyclist. I want to hit one of them with my car, knock him off the road, send him spilling over the curb, tumbling out of control. I want to see the bike go flying, and then–this is my fantasy–I stop the car, get out and so do all the other drivers. They cheer me. They yell ‘hooray!’ and then they pick me up and carry me around on their shoulders.”

– Richard Cohen, journalist, in Washington Post Magazine

I don’t think Mr. Cohen really means he’d like to murder someone. At least I hope not. If he does this, though, we have this in print, so we know he’s been thinking about it for a while.

Thank goodness this is not a fantasy that is prominent in most people’s minds. At least, I don’t think it is. Most people treat other people the way they’d want to be treated. Usually it’s not even done consciously. Maybe they don’t often go out of their way to help someone, but whether in big cities or small towns, in cars or on the sidewalk, there’s an acknowledgement that the people around you are just that: people. Mothers, sons, friends, daughters, and fathers. Waiters, engineers, teachers, CEOs. Poor, rich, and everything in between. There’s a dance, or an unending string of “negotiations,” if you will, among motorists, among pedestrians, and even between motorists and pedestrians.

And yet, once in a while, the humanity disappears. The dance turns ugly. We see road rage. We see hit-and-run crashes with other motorists, with pedestrians, with people riding bicycles.

Did you see what I did there? Motorists and pedestrians, more often than not, are seen as people. But “cyclists” are those whack jobs in garish outfits who have no respect for the law. They never stop at stop signs or lights and just appear in front of you out of nowhere! They insist on riding in the lane and I can’t get past them! Why don’t they get off the roads??? The dance ends. Negotiations cease. In their place, rancor. Dehumanization.

News flash: those “cyclists” are people, too. People riding bicycles. Parents, children, friends. Musicians, bus help, vice presidents. People at every level of education, society, economics. People riding for fitness. For fun. To get to work or school. To run an errand.

And, yes, some of them may be disobeying traffic law. But before you judge, look in the mirror, buddy. Do you ALWAYS come to a COMPLETE STOP before turning right on red? I didn’t think so. Do you EVER exceed the speed limit by a few miles an hour or so? Oh, yeah, I thought you did…So wait, we’re ALL scofflaws. And we’re ALL people.

Mr. Cohen’s rant takes the humanity away from those who choose to (or have no option but to) use another form of transportation. It reduces the person on a bicycle to an object. In fact, an object of disdain, to be (literally) crushed. Luckily, most people don’t share his fantasy. Most motorists are perfectly willing to coexist with other road users.

But there is ignorance out there. Many people in cars don’t really understand how to behave around bicyclists. And some people on bikes don’t play nice. We need to better inform EVERYONE of his or her rights and duties. Better behavior can happen, but we really are talking about a change in the culture.

In one sense, it’s an enormous change. It’s moving from a car-centric view of the world to one that sees roads as a means to facilitate movement from one place to another for all who wish/need to use them. Looking at it another way, though, it’s not so big. It’s just looking AT, not THROUGH, people, and remembering that we all have the right to move about in society, in whatever way we choose.

Perception

Posted on February 4, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“Distance measured with a pair of compasses is not precisely the same as when measured by the leg.”

–Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men on the Bummel

He’s right. It’s all in the perception. Point A to Point B. Here to there should be the same, regardless. But it’s not. We all think of time passing at different rates, depending on the circumstance. Some days just fly by while others drag on forever…

But we often don’t give that consideration to distance. Covering miles on the bike works much the same way. There are days when going 2 or 3 miles seems like an interminable (and insurmountable) distance. Think of the days when you’re really tired, or the time you “bonked” (for non-riders out there, that’s when you “run out of gas,” typically because you didn’t adequately nourish/hydrate yourself, or you’ve reached the limit of your fitness and just have no more energy to continue).

On the other hand, there are days when you get to Point B and feel like your legs haven’t even warmed up yet! I find myself experiencing distance in a different way now that I live in a city. The places I frequent are not so far away on a bicycle. In fact, in some cases, it seems like the distance is shorter on the bike, compared to the car!

OK, so New Orleans is small. It seemed to be a much larger place when I was a kid. But given the whole process involved in driving, it often takes less time to ride the bicycle than to drive somewhere.

But it really is more than time. I drove my bicycle to the New Orleans Bicycle Summit last weekend. It would have been weird to drive a CAR to a BIKE summit, right? Driving from my home to the summit location in a car involves getting on an interstate, finding parking, etc., etc., etc. Driving my bike took me on a relaxing route along tree-lined boulevards, aside a bayou, and then to the edge of City Park where the summit was held. I rode the bike right up to the door and parked in the bike rack, feeling relaxed, stress-free, and ready for the day.

I also found myself surprised that the trip didn’t seem nearly as far to me as it does when I drive a car to go get beignets and café au lait at Morning Call, perhaps a half mile away from the summit venue. Did it take more time than it would have, if I had driven my car? Yes, but just a few minutes. But what I gained was the day. The weather. Nature. Sights. Smells. Saying, “Good morning” to people I passed, and them returning the greeting. Freedom. The feeling of flight that only the bicycle can give. The lack of the stress of travel. The joy.

Yes, that’s it. The joy.

Support. And Freedom.

Posted on January 25, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles. A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard.” – Sloan Wilson, journalist

What an analogy! It’s hard to add to that, but I’ll ramble on nonetheless. Those of you who have children or work with them know that this is a pretty good summation of the way things work with kids. In reality, that’s a pretty good summation of any relationship. Every human interaction involves some level of support and freedom.

OK, my head just exploded. With our children, we move from more to less support and at the same time, increasing freedom. In our other relationships, do we perhaps move from less to more support, but with freedom redefined? Redefined, perhaps, as the freedom to leave (not all relationships with others grow!) becoming the freedom to stay (some relationships grow into lifetime choices of friendship and/or love).

But back to the bike. What’s so hard after learning to ride? Once we’ve gotten the support to balance it, we figure we’re free. And done with learning.

A lot of kids give up the bicycle when they begin driving cars, trading one means of transportation for another. The lure of the automobile – speed, comfort, ease of use – crowds out other options. And they forget what it was like to be out there, on two wheels. They forget the freedom, the sense of flight, that feeling the wind brings. They forget the euphoria of coasting downhill.

That’s when it gets hard again. Not hard to “ride the bike,” because one never forgets how to ride…umm, balance a bike, but hard because the innocence and invincibility of childhood fades. Adult life interferes. And so, too, does fear. Many people never take up riding again because they are frightened. Of falling. Of cars. Of roads. Of hills. Of rocks. Of…

And that’s where support comes in again. There is always more to learn, and confidence to build. Because in learning more, we realize (discover) that we can have better control over what happens.

Learning emergency maneuvers lets me react better in dangerous situations.
Learning about traffic principles shows me how to be interact with other drivers.
Learning more about descending hills makes me able to do it more safely.

You get my drift?

So keep learning. There are plenty of resources out there for you. I have some of them on my links page. Support and freedom. Not just for our children – for all of us.

Awareness

Posted on January 16, 2017December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“The world lies right beyond the handlebars of any bicycle.”

– Daniel Behrman, The Man Who Loved Bicycles

Yes, it does. In one of my League of American Bicyclists courses, we do an entry exercise that includes the question, “What is the one word that describes what learning to ride a bike meant to you?” The most-often given answer is, “Freedom.” And that’s one way to read the meaning of this quote. Learning to ride a bicycle gave a sense of freedom, a sense that the world opened up beyond the home in which we were growing up. Everything was possible.

As we grew, many of us gave up on the bike. We learned to drive a car, so we put away the “things of a child.” Never looking back, never again thinking about the sheer joy of something as simple as a bike ride.

But wait, there’s more. The bicycle is another way to get from Point A to Point B. For most people, nothing between those two points is important. But, let’s think back to geometry class. There are an infinite number of points between A and B. But while driving in a car you will hardly notice any of them. That big metal box becomes a cocoon, insulating you from the world outside. There are few sights that can be appreciated as you speed past them. There are virtually no scents to be appreciated, as the hermetically sealed compartment’s ventilation system filters and recirculates the air. There is no sound except the radio blasting out the hits, the news, or what have you.

But the bicycle gives a unique perspective. At its fastest (for most riders), it just approaches the minimum speeds used by motorists as they go by, oblivious to their surroundings.

But the bicyclist’s view of the world is different. He is in the moment instead of protected from it. She sees the road in a different, kinesthetic way. He feels the terrain, having to pedal just a bit harder during that slight undulation of the road. At those lower speeds, and since there is no power other than human power, the bicyclist is more involved when going from one place to another.

And, “Oh, that amazing scent! Which of the trees/bushes around me is announcing its presence?”

“Doesn’t that breeze feel great?” she wonders.

“Wow, I hate it when the wind smacks me in the face. Wind is harder than hills…”

There’s a greater awareness, and maybe even appreciation, of the world around you when you’re on a bike.

Freedom. Awareness. Appreciation. Yes.

It’s Too Late…

Posted on December 15, 2016December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

I’ve heard that from several people, of all ages, and in various contexts. The subtext is, “I should have done it earlier in life; if I had done it then, I could do it well now.” Or maybe it’s, “But I’m too old to do that now.” But starting now, for whatever reason, is out of the question.

I recently saw an article from Sports Illustrated from 1970. Here is the gist of it: A Swedish newspaper offered a $1,000 prize to the winner of a bicycle race from the northernmost part of Sweden to the southern tip of the country. A 66-year-old man named Gustaf Hakansson decided to enter the race but did not qualify after a medical exam.

The race started without him. Regardless, he started behind the “official” riders on a heavy, old bike. Racers were required to stop and check in every night, and restart in the morning. But Gustaf was not in the race; he decided not to do that, and continued on. On about 7 hours of sleep over the course of the race, he led by more than 150 miles.

Eight hundred yards before the finish line, he had a flat tire. He continued anyway, and crossed the finish line 23 hours ahead of his nearest competitor. So a 66-year-old man deemed by doctors to be unable to compete raced, and won, against 50 much younger, much “fitter” men.

Message: Don’t pretend that you can’t. Whatever it is. Life’s too short to say, “I can’t” when you’re really saying, “I won’t.”

You Never Know

Posted on November 28, 2016December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

You may know that I am a League Coach for the League of American Bicyclists. In that capacity, I have conducted seminars across the country, certifying new League Cycling Instructors (LCIs). They then teach bicycling skills and safety in their own communities, from “Learn-To-Ride” sessions for children and adults, to bike rodeos, to road use discussions with community planners and engineers, multi-use path safety with parks and recreation staff…you name it.

I usually am called upon to conduct three to four seminars annually. Candidates come from all walks of life. I’ve worked with teachers, ophthalmologists, police officers, bike mechanics, retirees, city planners…

In the seminars, I hope to convey the love I have for bicycling, and both the passion to educate people on the skills they need to do it well and the things they should know to do it safely.

The thing I never know is how the work I do in those seminars affects the candidates. Well, not usually…At the end of each seminar, I meet with each of the candidates to let them know how they did, and to either certify them as LCIs or let them know what they need to do to become LCIs in the future. During one consultation, a candidate stopped me and said that he had something to say, about something he hadn’t told us.

Turns out he had been laid off three weeks prior. His whole world was turned upside down. He decided not to chase jobs around the country in a declining industry, but wondered what was next. He told us that the seminar completely turned his attitude around. The possibilities that it opened up excited him about his next chapter. The way he described it (hard to do in print, since it was the way he said it) was that instead of asking, “What am I going to do???” he was asking, “What am I going to do!!!”

It turns out that there is a real possibility for creating a “place to land” right near his home. A new position in the bicycling world appears to be in the works, and now that he’s an LCI, he figures he has an edge on the position. Of course, he’ll be working hard to get it, but he’s got the right attitude and is going for it. Will he get that job? I don’t know. I DO know that he left with a renewed sense of purpose. Because we talked about bike stuff! He told me so.

A friend of mine asked a question one day on facebook: “What do you want to do before you die?” My response was, “…make a difference.” I think I have, at least this once.

That Ain’t Right…

Posted on November 19, 2015December 19, 2020 by ljleathem

“Nobody ever died from not knowing how to play flag football. Yet we spend tax money teaching kids its nuances in gym classes, while bicycle safety is still foreign to most school curriculums. That ain’t right.”

– Don Cuerdon, cycling writer

I was at a drivers’ education symposium last year, representing a state advocacy/education organization. We were interested to talk with attendees, almost all physical education teachers who handle Driver Education. Our organization offers Smart Cycling, the bicycle curriculum of the League of American Bicyclists. Using the League’s curricula, a number of “off-the-shelf” programs are available, and using those same curricula, we can also tailor a program to meet specific needs.

I was extremely disappointed in the responses we heard. I’m paraphrasing, but here’s the gist of what we heard: “Nice idea, but we don’t have time to fit any more in the curriculum.” “We have all we can handle just getting through the material on driving a car.” “Just about all the kids know how to ride a bike.”

Likewise, some of the other exhibitors with whom we spoke were less than enthusiastic about partnering to talk about bike safety. “Get us a grant to talk about it and we will.” I realize that funding drives a lot of initiatives, but really?

As the writer of the quote said above, “That ain’t right.” The teachers are too busy talking about other things, so there’s no time to talk about behavior that may save lives. Other organizations are talking about pedestrian and motorcycle safety, but won’t add bicycling safety without additional funding.

We weren’t talking about a course in bicycle handling, although we certainly would have been happy to do so. We were talking to them about incorporating awareness of bicyclists as legitimate road users. We wanted to discuss teaching students how to drive alongside bicyclists and what it means to “Share the Road.” We wanted to share a systematic approach to make their students aware that bicyclists have all the duties…and rights…of a motorist, and that motorists need to be aware that their choice of transportation mode does not give them special privileges. But no.

We’ve continued the effort, nonetheless. We crafted a lesson plan for a “Share the Road with Bicyclists” day and made it available on the state’s Driver Education website. We’ve rewritten all the sections of the state drivers’ manual and commercial drivers’ license manuals that apply to bicycles, and submitted those edits to the state DOT for consideration. It is our hope that those manuals will include our edits when they are printed again….

One step at a time, one step at a time.