Monday, January 10, 2011

Cyclopedia

I just finished reading an excellent book: Cyclopedia: It's All About the Bike by William Fotheringham.

Reading this book is a good way to upgrade your bicycling knowledge from novice to besserwisser, and it contains lots of enjoyable reading even if you already know your bicycling. It provides a great overview of the history of bicycling in general and as a sport. I just wish that there was a bicycling-themed Trivial Pursuit. I'd really kick ass in that game now.

Besides the sports trivia and history of bicycling, there are also informative clues about bicycling events around the world, films and further reading. And a great Eddy Merckx joke. Highly recommendable. I have only a minor complaint about the book: some of the text is printed in dark yellow, which is nearly impossible to read in poor lighting. And I have a 20/20 vision.

Here are a couple of entries that really struck close to home for me (emphases by yours truly):

Cycle lanes

"Famously crap, except in Holland (go to that country's section to find out why this is the case). The first cycle lane in Britain opened in 1934, alongside the A40 in West London and was two and a half miles long, 2.5m wide on either side of the road. Even then cyclists were complaining of a lack of investment in facilities and things have hardly improved since. Every urban cyclist has their own horror story of cars parked where they shouldn't be, lanes that lead on to dual carriageways and stop just when they are most needed, and lanes that last, ooh, two metres if you are lucky. The phenomenon was significant enough that it generated its own pocket novelty book, Crap Cycle Lanes. We read it and wept."

Holland

"The only European country where a conscious, long-term nationwide effort has been made to promote cycling as transport. It has 19,000 kilometres of bike lanes; nearly 85% of the population own at least one bike, and there are estimated to be 16 million bikes in the country. Cycling has been made such an attractive option that in one town, Groningen, 57% of all journeys are made by bike and virtually all the children cycle to school, some travelling up to 20km.


The Dutch did not implement a national cycling policy until 1990, but as early as the 1970s there had been an increasing awareness that unrestrained road building to accommodate ever-growing car traffic was not possible; there wasn't enough space in this densely populated country. Beginning in 1974 the cycle route network was massively expanded, with investment of some US$230 million; from 1990 all major cities had to implement plans for increased cycle use. The result is a massive network of traffic-free cycle paths, many of them two-way, with junctions at motor-traffic roads specially designed for cycle safety, including underpasses and bridges and clearly marked areas where cyclists can wait at traffic lights in front of cars. The aim, said one cycling policy paper, was to ensure that 'all traffic participants must have equal rights.'


Groningen offers a detailed view of what can be done. Pro-active cycling policies began in 1969: over the years, car access to the city centre has been restricted, initially in the face of opposition from businesspeople and shopkeepers. Through traffic was removed from the centre, and cars directed to car parks. By 2000 a huge network of cycle lanes had been built (equivalent to perhaps 60% of the major roads); from 1980 secure, supervised cycle storage facilities were provided, roughly one a year. These provide lockers, repair facilities, hire racks and carriers; there are 15 at various schools. At traffic lights heavy flows of cyclists were given priority. Investment in cycle-specific facilities between 1989 and 2000 was some 23 million euros, with cycle-friendly facilities also forming part of other investment programmes.


Policy documents available through the Dutch cycling information service make it clear that this has only been achieved by sustained long-term investment over several decades, with every planning decision taking into account how people are going to travel and how they can best be accommodated. Food for thought as cities grapple with congestion and climate change."

Well put. Now, if only the local politicians became aware of the obvious: there is not infinite space in Helsinki either to accommodate ever-growing car traffic, and a sustained long-term investment is required to change things...

Friday, January 7, 2011

Winter complaints pt. III: the Winter of our Discontent

I got a reminder of my vincibility on Tuesday, as I crashed on the bike for the 3rd time this winter. Which is good, you know, because for a bicyclist, it's useful to be aware that accidents may happen and one needs to be cautious. If you haven't crashed lately, you may assume that it only happens to other, possibly less skilled riders, and based on the false assumption of your superior riding skills, you might act irresponsibly in traffic. But not me, no, I got my lesson. For the time being.

The cycle path I rode on had really become a path. The combined bike lane and sidewalk (I really need to figure out what the correct English term for the thing is, assuming there is one) is normally about 3 metres wide on Veturitie, Helsinki. Because the natural enemy of all bicyclists, The Public Works Department, has lately reached outstanding achievements in the field of not plowing, the path in question had diminished into a 50 cm wide trampled path.



Trust me, there used to be a bike lane "with an ample cleavage" here.

To give way for a pedestrian, I hopped off the path and onto the road. Unfortunately, on the side of the road, underneath the soft snow, there was a groove in the hard packed snow, into which my front wheel promptly fell, and I found both myself and my vehicle lying flat on the road in less than a considerably short unit of time. Had there been cars passing at the moment, I would have been in a hurry to get up, lest it become messy. That particular road is heavily used by trucks and the speed limit is 60 km/h. It's a nasty place to lie down, and I, for one, have a slight resentment towards being killed.

Funnily enough, only my ego was hurt, despite my shoulder and knee making contact with hard, cold asphalt. Luckily, my ego is vertically lateral, yet compliantly stiff, or whatnot, enough that a mere minor crash can only make it slightly out of true (I'll have it fixed come spring).

Then again, the plowing situation has gotten even worse since Tuesday.


Actually, my wheels are illuminated by LEDs, powered by the smugness radiating from my ego. The smugness is powered mostly by using photographic trickery to stage situations as if I'd just used the bicycle to surpass apparently insurmountable objects, like the iceberg on the right. Amazing how little voltage LEDs require, eh?

This morning, of the length of my commuting route, approximately
  • 3% had been properly plowed

  • 87% had not been plowed

  • 10% had been "plowed" with a toy vehicle, apparently.
I like hard exercise, such as bicycling in untouched snow, just as much as the next guy with compulsive exercise addiction, but as I'm trying to recover from a cold, I wouldn't have wanted to do it right now. It's understandable that in New York, or the UK, traffic becomes chaos (and people resort to pillaging and cannibalism) the minute some snow falls down, but it's not supposed to be like that here. At least not all winter, each winter. C'mon, we're Finns, we're supposed to have the snow-how! Yeesh!

Nevertheless, usually I enjoy commuting by bicycle even though (or possibly because) it's hard. I get positive energy out of the challenge, a kind of a "fuck you, I'm hard" attitude. I go to the shower and usually start working in a cheery mood. But sometimes, like this morning, it gets so difficult that there is a negative aspect involved as well. A kind of a "fuck it, this is ridiculous" attitude.

You might think that because I am complaining loudly and at great length about some snow on my 7.5 km commuting route, I am a soft wuss, at least when compared to the hardships endured by Eugène Christophe. However, he was getting paid for riding the bike, he was doing it for sports and fame and Henri Desgrange was making the Tour de France deliberately difficult for the amusement of spectators.

In contrast, I am riding the bike in order to get to work, where I can be a productive citizen and earn money to pay taxes. The sports & fame are just byproducts, and usually there aren't that many spectators to enjoy from my suffering.

The society should put some effort into making the bike-riding easier in the winter. They should allocate some more money for plowing. I'll gladly pay more taxes for that. I'll vote for the first candidate who promises to plow better (disclaimer: except Bogomoloff). Local politicians, are you listening?

Meh. Didn't think so. I'll just vote for Soininvaara.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

More snow, please

As the old saying goes, one picture says more than a thousand words. But if the picture in question is a crappy one, it only says some 800 words. So, as the three pictures in this post are low resolution, blurry photos taken with a mobile phone, I'll also crank out some regular words made out of letters to make this blog post 3000 words long.

In the weekend, a shitload of snow fell on southern Finland again. So I, for one, was surprised to find out that the bicycling routes were actually plowed pretty well this morning. My commute took only 5 minutes longer than usual. There were a couple of places where I had to carry the bike, though. Like this one:


This bit of light traffic pathway is often a challenging one. There's a steep ascent, under which there's a chicane consisting of two sharp turns. Apparently, the place is challenging also for maintenance vehicles, as it is usually sloppily plowed. This morning, however, the level of sloppy plowing had reached new, unforeseen heights: there was a bank of snow about one metre deep. The only way to negotiate this obstacle was to carry the bicycle, cyclocross-style, up the ascent while wading knee deep in the snow.

Of course, it's understandable that it isn't possible to plow narrow passages with a large vehicle. But how friggin' large was the vehicle that had to go around this traffic sign from the left?


It seems to me that there's no more space here on the left side of the traffic sign than there is on the right side. However, this road (Veturitie) had been plowed in a less-than-meticulous manner, i.e. all the trickier bits had just been bypassed. Well, at least in this place there were two alternative ways of advancing:
a) carry the bicycle while wading knee-deep
b) go against the stream of cars on the road.

Needless to say, all the commuters had chosen alternative b), as there were no signs of wading in the snow.

Then there's the intersection that I just love to hate:


Now, this intersection was redesigned and rebuilt some two years ago. Or perhaps it had already been designed in the 60's, when these kinds of sub-optimal solutions were favoured, and it wasn't feasible to change the plans, even though they should know better by now. Anyway, in their infinite wisdom, the designers chose to make the bike lane meander in a W shape, even though the road is totally straight. Then they added high curbs and put the lanes for pedestrians and bikes in slightly different levels to make it fancier. So, now we have an intersection that

  • slows down the bicyclists
  • forces the bicyclists to take sharp turns (dangerous when the road is slippery)
  • is, apparently, unplowable by machine (well, they could use shovels, couldn't they?)
  • has high curbs where you'd assume the bike lane goes (which may be surprising when the curbs are hidden by snow, or when there's bad visibility due to rain, fog or steamy goggles).
Also, pedestrians tend to optimize by walking in a straight line, even though the route meant for them takes turns (as you can observe in any park from the formation of paths in the grass). Therefore pedestrians usually cross the bike lane several times in this intersection, causing dangerous situations.

They should hand whoever designed this intersection a shovel and make him/her keep it rideable in the winter. Perhaps that way they'd think of maintainability when designing their next intersection.

3000!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Budget cyclist's lists of things

Yesterday there was a truck parked on the light traffic pathway, blocking all but a 30 cm strip of it. The driver had apparently pulled over there to speak on the mobile. I inched past it, cursing to myself.

Today there was a car parked on the light traffic pathway, blocking all but a 15 cm strip of it. The driver was loading some stuff in the trunk. I had to jump off and on the curb in order to get past the car. I pointed out to the driver that he'd parked on the bike lane. "Yeah, yeah", he replied.

Both of these drivers just made my list of enemies.

Budget cyclist's list of enemies (short version)
Then there's the list of entities who I don't quite consider enemies yet, but am watching closely.

Budget cyclist's list of not-quite-trustworthy entities
  • the police
  • the legislators (a.k.a. The Man)
  • teenagers
  • dog owners
  • SUV drivers
But I'm not totally paranoid & pessimist. I also have a list of things I like.

Budget cyclist's list of likes

And, for the sake of completeness, there's yet another list.

Budget cyclist's list of "meh"

  • everything else.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Communication in traffic pt. II

My daily commuting route partly follows the route of a certain bus line. It's a smallish residential street and if there are passengers getting off and on the bus at each stop, the bus goes at approximately the same average speed as a bicyclist. Sometimes my timetable collides exactly with the timetable of the bus and we both arrive at bus stops in sync. This was one of those days, and as it happens, I got into an argument with the bus driver.

At bus stop A, the bus stopped just in time to unload passengers when I arrived there. Yes, of course, the bus unloads the passengers directly on the bicycle route. It's a common practice in Finland. And, of course, the passengers just jump blindly off the bus. No one ever looks around first. I suppose that to most people, it's unimaginable that a bicyclist might actually ride on the bicycle route. At least in winter.

So, as I slalomed between the human obstacles that just materialized on my pathway, the bus driver honked at me. Ok, I have to admit, perhaps I was going slightly too fast, for demonstrative purposes. You know, in the long run, it's for the good of the passengers. Perhaps the next time they will look around before hopping off the bus.

At bus stop B, again, another herd of blind cattle jumped off the bus just in front of me. This time I rang the bell as I slalomed. The bus driver shouted from the open door: "Is this a bike lane?". "Yeah!", I replied, and proceeded to signal with my hand towards a nearby traffic sign stating that indeed, the area in which the bus stop was situated did represent the monstrosity that is known as a combined sidewalk and bicycle lane.

At bus stop C, as I approached, the bus driver opened the door again and I stopped beside the bus. I was going to say something along the lines of "Do you think I'm riding here for fun?", as I would indeed rather ride on the road, if it were legal, but before I could catch my breath he said "Well, you're required to watch out for bus passengers then", closed the door and drove off.

Well, yes, I am required to watch out for bus passengers when they wander on the bike lane. Also I shouldn't demonstrate. That was childish.

But shouldn't the bus driver also know that the thing beside the road that he drives on each day, that looks just like a sidewalk, is actually also the place where bicyclists are required, by the law, to ride on? Shouldn't the passengers also have some responsibility? Shouldn't the people who put bus stops on the bike lane be kicked in the nuts by some omnipotent authority?

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Winter complaints pt. II

I sit by the window in the workplace cubicle farm, so I often get to witness the epitome of futility and a monumental grievance that is the typical way the public bicycling infrastructure is maintained in Helsinki, Finland in wintertime. First, a small vehicle plows the snow off the light traffic pathway. A moment later, two large vehicles plow the snow off the two lanes of the road, hurling it on the light traffic pathway, thus making the pathway unrideable by bicycle again.

If they're able organize the two large vehicles to clear up the road in co-operation, why can't they make the small vehicle follow the two large vehicles, so that the light traffic pathway would also be cleared? It boggles the mind.

So today I commuted back home on mostly unplowed routes, and I'm proud to announce that I'm no longer inexperienced in the esteemed area of bicycling that is falling over on your side with your feet still attached to the clipless pedals. I did that twice today. There is a type of wet snow, I'm pretty sure Eskimos have a word for it, in which the bicycle tends to suddenly swerve sideways. Especially if some areas of the snowy surface are softer than others. As I experienced, there isn't much time to detach the feet from the pedals when that happens. The previous winter I rode with flat pedals and I didn't fall over once. I guess I'll have to switch back to flat pedals again for the winter.

Surprisingly, falling over on your side with your feet attached to the pedals wasn't that painful. I suppose that it helped that the roads weren't plowed. At least there was lots of comfortable, soft snow to land upon. Actually, it was kind of fun. I definitely can see the humour in that, although at the time, I did curse a lot.

Winter complaints pt. I

As expected, winter totally surprised everyone in Finland once again. Last night, some 15 cm of snow had dropped from the sky on southern Finland. The Public Works Department got yet another chance to show just how good they are at what seems to be their core competency: not plowing the bike lanes. I guess it's up to us bicyclists to do the plowing, one 28 mm (or whatever your tyre width is) slice of bike lane at a time. Now, if we can just organize ourselves to ride in neat straight lines exactly 28 mm apart from each other...

Reason #129 why pedestrians and bicyclists should not have combined lanes: the pedestrians make the roads uneven. It is impossible to ride straight on a path trampled in snow by pedestrians. It is much easier to ride in 15 cm (or more) of untouched snow.

Even though bicycling in an unmaintained infrastructure is hard, I'm not even considering to switching to commuting by bus or car. Co-workers often seem to think that bicycling in winter is extreme. It may be extreme in the sense that riding in the snow is heavy and you have to either strain yourself or go really slow, but at least commuting by bicycle is reliable. The duration of my commute may be two (or even three) times longer in the winter than it is in the summer, but it is highly probable that I get to the destination in the estimated timeframe.

In my opinion, commuting by train or bus in the winter is extreme in the sense that their reliability has not proven to be that good. In fact, the reliability of the railroad system in wintertime has, in recent years, proven to be a joke. Buses may be more reliable than trains in the sense that they usually get to the destination, if you actually manage to get on the bus, but in my experience their schedules seem to be relatively unreliable. It is not that rare to have to wait on the bus stop for a shift that never comes.
And, of course, commuting by your own personal automobile is extreme in the sense that it is, at least in my case, slow, stressful and stupid. Also, it is unreliable, because I can never rely on finding a parking space near the workplace, and the duration of the commute depends on the heaviness of traffic. At times of heavy traffic the cars crawl slowly in queues. This has never happened on bike lanes, as far as I know.
BTW, bicycling in the snow is good exercise. Last winter my thigh muscles became larger in diameter approximately 15%. If this trend continues, next spring I'll have to don silly looking pants:


Speaking of silly garments, winter seems to have surprised, despite people, also my shoe protectors, that until now have functioned exceptionally well. This morning they apparently got scared of the snow, curled upwards and refused to cover my toes. So perhaps, come spring, this is what I'll look like:


Actually, this costume seems well suited for bicycling. The shoe protectors seem large enough to cover size 45 cycling shoes. The pants are comfortable and spacious enough to accommodate my enormous thigh musculature. The feathered hat can be worn as a helmet cover.

But then again, cyclists often wear clothes that are too soft and not sufficiently awe-inspiring to ensure their safety. I mean, car drivers avoid collisions with other cars because they know that their precious cars would be badly damaged if they hit another car. If they hit a bicyclist, perhaps the dust might be wiped off the car, but the car would most likely remain intact. But what if bicyclists started dressing up like Dimmu Borgir? No Mercedes Benz driver wants to have Shagrath sliding over their bonnet: