| No Cycling Oasis |
[09 Jul 2006|09:23am] |
I realise the irony of my last post talking about a bike lane as though it's some kind of cycling oasis. Even without Dale Maggs' proposal going ahead, a cyclist's path is fraught with perils.
First and foremost, of course, there's the door zone. Bike lanes are customarily painted along the edge of the road just beyond the space occupied by parked cars. This means, of course, that in riding in the bike lane the cyclist is positioned within four feet of the side of a car. A car door suddenly flung open will occupy that four foot space of bike lane - and doors are frequently flung open, because the alighting driver or passenger has their mind on their primary task of leaving the vehicle, not on the secondary consideration of checking that the road alongside them is clear. Dooring is a risk for several reasons. The cyclist may collide with the door, the door may hit the cyclist - potentially throwing them into the path of traffic. Even cyclists quick enough to avoid the opening door may place themselves in peril by the reflexive act of dodging.
The latest Open Road, the NRMA member magazine, included this letter - the publication of which suggests that even motoring associations are becoming aware of the cycle safety concern that the door zone presents:
Our best friend, an experienced cyclist, was recently killed as a result of a thoughtless motorist. While he was cycling along a narror road, a car driver opened his door without checking his rear vision mirror. Our friend swerved to avoid the door and was knocked down and killed by a light truck. Please, always check there is nothing coming behind you before you get out of your car. S & J Knobloch, in Open Road
And of course there are lesser perils and irritations.
There's the fact that road resurfacing crews frequently place their asphalt cuts directly through the bike lane, leaving cyclists to negotiate the bumpiest part of the road. There's the inevitable broken glass clustered at the side of the lane, washed there by the rain and the motion of car tyres, or swept there by council workers clearing up after storms. Along Wilson Street, Newtown, during peak hour one morning, I encountered some council workers with brooms assiduously sweeping up fallen leaf matter and other storm detritus and piling it neatly alongside the roadway for the truck to come pick up. That is to say, piling it neatly in the bike lane of a primary cycle route at the busiest time of day.
There's the phenomenon of the vanishing bike lane. Whether through lack of planning, end of council boundaries, or "this is where the funds ran out", one can frequently be riding along a well-signposted, neatly painted bike lane en route to whatever destination, and - nothing. Suddenly, often mid-street, the cycle traffic is expected to fend for itself. Whether the initiators of these bike routes expect the traffic to likewise suddenly dematerialise (perhaps we're secretly fitted with teleporters?) is unclear.
It does mean that even the most committed cycle-lane-only cyclist will inevitably be faced with a laneless journey at some point in their career. Best to start learning to deal with riding on the open road sooner rather than later.
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