infrastructure

This is a Bike Lane (to a certain extent)

Whether it's bike lanes or marriage, everyone loves a disclaimer

Whether it’s bike lanes or marriage, everyone loves a disclaimer

First things first, the image is by amazing artist, David Shrigley. I start this little offering by using this brilliant image as the subject matter for today is the power of words, particularly in relation to – you guessed it – bikes, but more specifically bike lanes.

I’ve written about the area where I live before and how it is not the most progressive Council in terms of infrastructure. They like to make sure that the bike paths along the river are in OK condition, and that is to be commended, but that is the sum of it. They aren’t really that interested in making it better for people who don’t ride along the river and, it would appear, they assume that people are going to drive to the river with their bikes and then go for a ride. As an aside, I spoke to a traffic engineer from the Council at a Bike Futures Conference a couple of years ago (which I funded myself – yeah, I’m that committed). He said that not many people cycle in the area ‘…because there are so many hills’. I wanted to ask him if he’d been to San Francisco, if he’d heard of ‘The Wiggle’, the innovative way they get around (and over) this problem, which is infinitely greater than ours. But I didn’t as I didn’t want to look like I had all the answers (I mean, I do, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that).

What I did say however was that the roads make for pretty challenging bike journeys in the region. Let’s use me as an example. I am a fairly typical person, not in a particularly strange location and a semi typical bike rider (I probably ride a bit more than most but travel shorter distances than some). Here’s a map of where I live, as seen on the TravelSmart Map which is – supposedly – my guide to walking, cycling and PT options in my region:

This is my ‘hood

In the lower bottom hand corner, you can see a blue circle. That’s pretty much where I live. Now, to get to the city, which is West, how would you get there? Similar to a choose your own adventure story, it’s both exciting but seemingly straightforward. The blue dots on the road indicate what is known as an ‘informal’ bike lane, the blue dashes mean a dedicated on-road bike path (with parked cars to your left) and a solid blue line means a completely separate bike path, solely dedicated to cyclists. As you can see, going West is tricky due to the river that needs to be crossed.

I know what you’re thinking ‘Just go down Burwood Road and then follow it along until it joins with Church and then cross the river. Easy’. And it should be. But this is where the criteria of what an informal bike path is becomes important. Here’s a picture of it:

An 'informal' bike path

An ‘informal’ bike lane on Burwood Road

That, my friends, is it. A bike logo painted on the road with 3 dashes alongside it, which is in the same lane as the cars and trucks hurtling along at 60-70 km/h. And in peak times, it’s not much better. Safer, maybe, but not better:

Would you describe this as a bike path?

Would you describe this as a bike lane?

So, with Burwood Road being out of the question, let’s reconsider other options. I could go down Oxley, which is a quieter road, but once I hit Glenferrie Road I’m in a predicament. That’s four lanes of traffic I have to negotiate – including trams – to get to the other side and continue with my journey. There are no traffic lights here and at a four way intersection it’s incredibly time consuming and dangerous to say the least (it’s also at the bottom of a hill before heading up another one and as every cyclist knows, you want to keep that momentum if you can). Even if I did get through the Glenferrie intersection, I am faced with the same dilemma once I hit Power street where I need to turn right and then, what do you know, left onto…you guessed it, Burwood Road. I’m not being a fussy bastard here, there is literally no way for me to get there safely. And let’s look again – Power Street, Riversdale and all of the other options are all ‘informal’ bike paths.

They’re not informal. They’re a joke. Would you let your 12 year old kid on the roads pictured here? I ride it through necessity, not happily, and I resent it every single time I do.

The City of Boroondara (the Council in which I reside) runs various courses on how to get people of all ages and abilities on two wheels and some of them cost nothing. Again, I can’t find fault with this. But what happens after the course? What happens when that new rider receives their certificate of completion? Do they remove their – mandatory – helmet and think they’ve now found the best way to get around? Or do they think it’s a nice hobby and, weather permitting, they put their bike in the car next weekend and drive to where they can ride along the river ? It would be nice to see some evaluation on this as I suspect they would either do the latter or not ride at all.

In short, the City of Boroondara doesn’t rate cycling as important and certainly not as a priority. This is made perhaps most apparent on their website. On the homepage, these are largely your options of where to go:

Cycling sounds like transport doesn't it?

Cycling sounds like transport doesn’t it?

If I wanted to find out more about cycling in the area, I would think that ‘Transport and Parking’ would be where it would be found. The fact that the image for this section is a car might foreshadow how this ends up. Because in clicking on said section, these are my options:

Cycling, cycling, cycling...not here.

Cycling, cycling, cycling…not here.

Nothing on cycling, and walking is all the way down the bottom and only refers to walking very specifically in Camberwell Junction. Why don’t they just call this section what it really is – ‘Parking and Driving’? Cycling is eventually found under ‘Our City’, between the seemingly touchy feely subjects of ‘Community’ and ‘Environment’.

This isn’t taking cycling seriously. This is faffing about. It’s easier, cheaper and far less controversial to run free bike riding lessons than it is to actually provide cyclists with the infrastructure to ride safely. Even a few bike sharrows (shared road arrows where bikes and cars genuinely share the space, usually found on back streets) would be preferable to the lame ‘informal’ bike paths in my ‘hood. No wonder that the City of Boroondara currently rates as 4th out of 79 municipalities for having the most bike crashes.

Two words for you, City of Boroondara: poor form.

Truly, if it’s so ‘informal’ it serves no purpose, why bother at all?

 

Doing it with the Danes

Copenhagen: a city that, you know, gets it.

Copenhagen: a city that, you know, gets it.

Facilitate (verb)
From the 1610s, “make easy, render less difficult,” from French faciliter “to render easy,” from stem of Latin facilis “easy” (see facile). Related: Facilitated; facilitates; facilitating. (from online etymology dictionary).

I start this little post with that tiny history on the word of facilitate as it is such a simple word but encapsulates so much about what a city or built environment could (and maybe should) do for its citizens. Depending on how a city is designed, how equitable it is, how healthy, how ‘smart’, how pleasurable, affordable etc. it will enable a citizen to be their best or not. The city, in this sense, facilitates good citizenry.

In Denmark (a place that should be the benchmark of how places should operate, in my opinion), this is evidenced in a myriad of ways, but most notably through policy implementation. Policies on health for example, don’t merely operate in a vacuum as they might in, oh I don’t know… Australia, where they are seen as isolated. They are incorporated into the city itself and the machinations of how that city operates. In doing so, the city becomes a space for policy to manifest, raising otherwise turgid documents from merely aspirational quotes, ideas and stats that no one will ever read.

In a practical sense, an example can be found through looking at the current policy on men’s health in Australia. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics National Health Survey published in 2009 (which can be seen here), 68% of males over 15 years of age reported doing no exercise or having low exercise levels (supporting facts and figures can be seen here). Obviously, this is sub optimal and the government of the day instigated numerous policies to address such  pressing – and depressing – health concerns. So far, so good.

One of these policies was the Healthy Communities initiative, whereby local Councils and local organisations received funding to implement exercise, nutritional and behaviour change programs in the hope that such stark statistics would change, for the better. Along with Diabetes Australia, the Heart Foundation and others, one such organisation was Cycling Australia (CA) in conjunction with the Amy Gillett Foundation. It was explained that what CA’s role would be on the government website and for clarity, it is worthy of reading it in its entirety:

Cycling Australia (with the Amy Gillett Foundation) – AustCycle – AustCycle aims to equip people with the skills and confidence to cycle regularly through the provision of cycle training. The types of training courses range from beginner programs through to skills for riding in more challenging situations, including coping with traffic and riding safely in groups. AustCycle training courses are designed to teach participants of all ability levels how to ride in on-road and off-road environments and can be targeted for new cyclists or people who have ridden before and wish to increase their activity and bicycle use. Programs can cater for between three to eight students per Teacher depending on the skill, confidence and attitudes of participants.

The program uses a train-the-trainer model to train people to become accredited AustCycle Teachers who then deliver cycling training to the community through their own businesses or for an accredited AustCycle Provider (e.g., cycling school). AustCycle Providers are independent licensees able to run training courses that their Teachers are accredited to deliver. AustCycle Providers are usually small businesses, but can also include community groups, cycling clubs and local councils.

The AustCycle Teacher training course includes elements on nutrition, achieving a healthy weight through exercise and developing programs for individuals and groups to address healthy weight and fitness objectives.

For more information, visit the AustCycle website.

Now this brings me nicely to my point of this post. Whilst such programs may encourage some people to ride a bike more often, it is unlikely that such initiatives will have long lasting positive health implications on a large cohort if the built environment does not encourage (or facilitate) people to ride their bike. It seems to me that health programs and health promotion in general in Australia goes for the quick fix when it comes to cycling. It is far more effective to build separated bike lanes if you genuinely want your health policies to have desired, long term health outcomes, but it is also far more politically contentious. In annual reports it is easier to say ‘We funded all these organisations to come up with ideas as to how to reduce the inactive lifestyle of most males in Australia’, than it is to say ‘ We have put a lot of people offside by building better infrastructure for cycling, and we probably won’t see any evidence of how this will improve health outcomes for at least 3 more election cycles’.

Unless we have political will to genuinely change the paradigm as it currently stands however, we are simply throwing good money after bad. We know what we need to do. Currently, the built form of a city (and largely suburbia, too), does not facilitate riding a bike with ease and a tension therefore exists between policy, practical implementation and long term behaviour change and I would argue that it is this trifecta of ingredients that is needed for a citizen to be healthy. Unless the built form of a city changes to encourage cycling and make it easy, facilitating positive health outcomes for citizens is stymied by the city itself.

This whole post can be reduced to six little words: let’s just do what Denmark does.

 

 

Trains of Thought

invite to opening of railway

Well, this is how it used to be.

The above is a – admittedly fuzzy – photo of an invitation to the opening of the first electric railway in England, addressed to the Prince of Wales which I snapped at a recent trip to the excellent Transport Museum in London. So much is demonstrated in this little invitation, from the late 20th Century.

We used to celebrate public transport and its advances, and impacts. Something such as this was not merely a publicity exercise for the press to report on the following day. It was a moment for genuine, national pride. A moment to reflect on the glories of modern technology with a view to making the world better for as many people as possible (albeit within an acknowledged class system – both in English society and on trains). But they were noble, they were brave, they were genuine leaders. And this was before the Planning profession had really been ‘invented’ and a Royal Commission into the plight of the poor was imminent in London, due the stark living conditions of its population. Amidst all of this, they still invested in public transport.

Fast forward 125 years to modern day Melbourne, Australia. The current debate over the building of the East West Link (let’s just call it a huge freeway, because that’s what it is) steadily rages with no sign of abating. It is estimated that it will cost anywhere between 4 and 15 BILLION DOLLARS to build. It’s a tunnel that few want, with most believing that the money could be better spent elsewhere, namely on public transport. Needless to say, I agree.

But where did our pride go in building infrastructure for people rather than profit? Did it really disappear with Thatcher when Neoliberalism gripped Britain and then the world? And if so, why did Australia follow suit so swiftly? Were we really that self conscious that we just had to do anything that came from the UK? Did miners strikes, economic downturns and  a subsequent recession really seem that appealing to us, Down Under dwellers?

I can’t help but wonder about those men (and let’s face it, they were) who instigated the building of England’s first electric railway. They were brave men, proud men, nation building in every sense of the expression. What would they say if they knew that same railway service had been sliced, diced and left for dead by the Government that funded it and handed what was left of its near mortal remains to a private company?

We need that pride again. We need that vision. We need that collective idea of the world we want. We need to cut our ties of ways that have not proven to be a success. Build a road and see it filled in an average of 3 months. Build public transport infrastructure and you have, well, over a century of contented commuters. Is this train of thought really so hard?

When is a Bike Lane, not a Bike Lane?

Not

This is not a bike lane

If it looks like a bike lane and feels like a bike lane, is it not a bike lane? It is not a question merely for Magritte.

For those who haven’t seen it, there is a YouTube video that is doing the rounds at the moment of a woman who was ‘doored’ here in Melbourne. In just over 48 hours, the clip has had in excess of 34, 000 views. That’s a lot of people interested in dooring (or they just want to watch someone being knocked from their bike endlessly). A woman is knocked to the ground by a man opening the door of a taxi, to exit the vehicle, into the path of the cyclist. The passenger of the taxi is accompanied by two other men.

The incident has fuelled a great deal of discussion not necessarily due to the accident, but what followed. The cyclist asked for the details of the passengers, claiming that they had doored her and that it is illegal to do this in a bike lane. Whilst dooring is illegal, what the cyclist was riding on  – and here’s the corker – wasn’t a bike path.

What the cyclist was riding in, was a sliver of a lane that had a solid white line running along it, with a width of about 50 cm or so and cyclists use this ‘lane’ (let’s call it what it is – the gutter) to ride on, next to stationary cars waiting for the lights to change. However, legally, a bike lane is only a bike lane if it is at least 1.2m wide in a 40 km/h zone or at least 1.5m wide in a 60 km/h zone and all lanes (regardless of size) must be signposted with ‘Start of Bike Lane’ and ‘End of Bike Lane’. This certainly isn’t the case with the narrow lane that the cyclist was riding on and, like many others who cycle in the city, she was perhaps lulled into a false sense of security, thinking it actually was a bike lane. Given that these gutter lanes very often have a stencil of a bike on it, any reasonable person could be forgiven for believing that they actually are lanes for cyclists.

However, the cyclist was right to track them down and get their details because it is a $352 on-the-spot fine for opening a car door in the direct path of a cyclist and at $1408 maximum court penalty. Sadly, the passengers aggravate an already tricky situation by antagonising the woman, with one man saying that “cyclists on the road disgust me”. No apology was offered by any of the taxi passengers.

So, in short, the incident that is captured in a three minute video sparks a great deal of debate. When is a bike lane, actually a bike lane and how can a cyclist, driver and pedestrian know the difference? How do we educate road users to look out for bikes, whether they are on a bike path that adheres to the – very prescriptive – measurements or not? How do we tone down the inflated aggression that cyclists and drivers have to one another? Some argue that the cyclist was actually moving too fast given the restricted space she had. Maybe further education is needed for cyclists themselves?

We can’t all cycle around with cameras on our heads and load up YouTube vids in the hope that something will happen (well, I don’t want it to come to that). But we do need to seriously think about these issues and tackle them. I know that the City of Melbourne is embarking on a shared space campaign called ‘Share our Streets’, and hopefully that will go some way to addressing shared space problems and this is to be commended (as a side note, I actually suggested at a Bike Futures meeting this week that the campaign shouldn’t use the word ‘street’ as there are plenty of places where cyclists share the space with pedestrians and drivers – not just on streets, but I digress).

The bottom line is this: not only infrastructure but education and laws needs to keep up with the popularity of cycling. Another option might be to overthrow the 1.2m and 1.5m rules. Who came up with such arbitrary figures? If they don’t work for the city they are in, let’s try something new. The status quo isn’t working and so let’s change it. Let’s be brave.

No one will die if we try it, but people might die if we don’t.

A Meter Might Matter but Markings are Massive

The current campaign by the Amy Gillett Foundation as discussed previously on this blog is A Meter Matters. And – not surprisingly – I have an opinion about it. By way of explanation, let me share an anecdote.

Several years ago, I attended a furniture making course which culminated in us students producing a hall stand. I realised fairly on in the piece that although I enjoyed working with wood, I perhaps didn’t possess the technical aptitude to produce a fine piece of furniture worthy of a Sotherby’s auction. However, after sanding all the bits and pieces, drilling holes for my dowels and laying it out on the floor for assembly, I was good to go. Or so I thought. I hastily put glue in the holes and messed about with the legs of the table, a mid level shelf type thing and dowels which seemed to be everywhere. In short, the assembly process was going less than smoothly.

I called over my teacher, who was thankfully a lovely, kind man who started to pull bits off and stick them back together where they should be. It was such a monumental mess at this point however that two other students had to be called upon to help out. Everything seemed to be covered in glue. Whilst looking at the commotion in front of me I started to laugh with clear embarrassment and said “My God! It’s a complete disaster!”

My lovely teacher, whilst bent over my wooden ‘sculpture’ and trying desperately to secure a sash clamp, looked up at me and said the words I’ll never forget. With sincerity and kindness he said “You’re giving it a go”. It was exactly what I needed to hear. Not the platitudes of ‘It’ll be fine!’, or ‘It’s going to be amazing!’, or ‘You’ve found your calling!’.

So how does all this relate to A Meter Matters? I feel as though the AMY Gillett Foundation is not really doing anything earth shattering or anything fantastic – they are merely giving it a go. If I’m completely honest, I even think their campaign is a bit lame. Isn’t it a bit easy to say ‘A meter matters, so give cyclists a meter between your car and their bike’, and then for everyone to say ‘Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Let’s try to do that’. How exactly will it be policed? It is currently illegal to ‘door’ someone (open a car door from a parked car into the path of a cyclist), however I don’t hear people coming into work saying “Sorry I’m late, I got charged with dooring and the paperwork took ages to fill out”. I never hear anyone talking about it. Ever.

My point is that markings on the road make infinite more difference than a theory. A physical sign that says to cars ‘ you can’t go here – this is not your driving space’ will have far more impact than a driver thinking ‘sheesh, I must remember to give this cyclist a meter because…well…it matters’.

One of the reasons cited for not putting more bike lane markings on roads is that the bike lane has to be a space wide enough to accommodate cyclists riding two abreast. Who on earth thought up that idea and why on earth does it continue? How often do cyclists (and remember, the focus of this blog is on the everyday cyclist) ride two abreast? If you’re commuting to work, school or university the answer is clearly virtually never.

There are plenty of examples where bike lanes have been made a lot skinnier to accommodate their location (over the Yarra bridge between Chapel and Church Streets for example, along with much of Nicholson street between Johnston and Victoria Streets in Richmond. Why can’t so many others (if not all others) have this as well?

So, back to Amy and their campaign. I know I’m being cynical. And this too is the point of this entry. I want infrastructure change to keep up with the progress and popularity of cycling and it simply isn’t. When I attended the Bike Futures conference last year, it was a theme that came up tirelessly – us cyclists have to be thankful for the miniscule, incremental changes that happen for our betterment so that we can then prove to drivers and politicians that the world didn’t end when they made these changes so they feel confident in making more changes. But goodness, it’s sometimes really painful to witness this glacial speed. I’m hoping that the Amy campaign is yet another step in making decision makers feel confident in making changes for the better for cyclists.

As it turns out, I contracted meningitis before my woodworking course ended so I never got to thank my teacher for his kind words or deeds (as he actually finished it for me). My wonderful father collected the hall stand, I lovingly oiled it and it now sits in my bedroom, proudly.

It reminds me of the importance of giving it a go. And – annoyingly – patience.

Lycra, lace or leather

blac

Anyone who rides a bike knows what sort of rider they are.

Some will be what a friend of mine refers to as ‘la de dar’ bike riders. They are good. Others are Lycra lads and ladettes or MAMIL’s. They are good too. And then there are those like me. Common commuters who don’t really even know a fixie from a mountain bike, a hybrid from a unicycle. OK, I’m exaggerating to prove a point, but hopefully you get my drift: Common commuters just want to get from A to B and use a bike to get there. We were probably doing it before it was cool and will ride no matter what the weather. And we are good too.

My point is that we all want the same thing, essentially: we want to be able to ride safely, whether it be in Lycra, lace or Blundstones.

And yet, and yet…all too often there is a division amongst us. The la de dar riders hate the fixie folk, the fixie folk hate the Lycra lads and ladettes, the Lycra ladettes and lads hate the common commuters and the common commuters hate the BMX bandits. The BMX bandits hate everyone. And that they have to wear a helmet.

What is with this? Why do we need this division? Are we not all road users? Are we not all struggling to get better paths built for cyclists, regardless of the sort of cyclist we are? I would like to think so.

I have a theory about the people who ride aggressively on the road and it comes from riding a bike in city streets for 10 years and looking at how cyclists interact with one another. There is definitely a competitive element amongst us all. Even if you don’t own the expensive bike, you want to prove that your bike is just as good, just as worthy and just as capable as any other (namely the one sitting next to you at the lights). Where there should be camaraderie there is competition. There also seems to be a sense of entitlement with many riders. Not stopping at stop signs, red lights, or pedestrian crossings (even when pedestrians are clearly crossing) all seem to be a ‘right’ for some cyclists, even if the law would deem it otherwise.

My theory, and this is the point of this post, is that some cyclists have this competitive, tough person ‘I’m above the law’ stuff going on because to ride a bike on a road in Melbourne right now, in 2014, is dangerous. Of course you’re going to feel tough and above the law and a little competitive and just a little bit arrogant and maybe a bit too cool for school. What would solve this? Better infrastructure. If people didn’t feel that riding a bike was ‘tough’ then they wouldn’t have to prove themselves as it would be seen as any other mode of transport.

Do people who ride trains feel tough? Do people who ride buses or trams feel tough? No, because it’s an everyday thing with a very small degree of risk as it’s so safe and people from all walks of life do it – it is seen as normal.

Still not convinced? Do you believe that most of Amsterdam feel ‘tough’ and therefore flout the rules when they’re on their bikes? Of course not. It’s a normal, everyday form of transport that 7 year olds do amongst 70 year olds. Make it normal, allow people to feel safe and I believe attitudes amongst cyclists themselves (along with perceptions of them) will change.

 

Back in Your Box

Bike boxes. They’re a little weird, I think, and it wasn’t until I attended the Bike Futures Conference last year (part of the conference included a bike tour), that I realised what their purpose was.

The theory is that whilst  cyclists ride along the road single file, once they get to the lights they miraculously, confidently and – some might say strangely – fan out in front of the cars that are waiting behind them. Then, the lights turn green, and they supposedly shuffle back to their single file state of play as they continue on with their journey.

During the bike tour that I did with the conference, the leader of the tour instructed us to “move into the bike box”. I thought this was weird, for several reasons. Firstly, I never really understood what I was meant to do in that big space with the bike sign on it (like the road had been tattooed just for cyclists), that sat in front of the car whilst I waited for the lights to change. I saw the massive bike emblem, so knew that I was within my rights to sit on my bike there, but just wondered why I would. For starters, it not more comfortable to rest one’s foot on a curb than the ground at a set of lights, given that the curb is higher?

Secondly, I didn’t see the point in moving right into the ‘bike box’ only to move left again into the gutter (and I sincerely mean the gutter – have you ridden a bike down Burwood Road lately?). Meanwhile, whilst motorists wait for the nanosecond for cyclists to move from the bike box to the left of the road, they get pissed off, infuriated, aggressive and again start the mantra of “F***ing cyclists” under their agitated, hot breath. Are bike boxes, then, little more than a tokenistic road affectation that appease Councillors, Mayors and wealthy ratepayers but actually do nothing in real terms for cyclists and motorists (or, in short, those who most need to share the road)?

Lastly, I have to say, there is that weird thing where if you are all bunched up together, there’s an awkward moment whereby you have to sort yourself out into supposed speeds of what your fellow cyclist travels at and therefore the most appropriate order. Wouldn’t it just be easier to give us a dedicated bike lane? Social awkwardness, be damned.

I had ridden a bike most days in the previous 8 years since arriving in Melbourne and yet I had no idea how to conduct myself in a bike box, let alone what it’s purpose was, or that the term ‘bike box’ even existed. That is a problem.

The streetswiki on Bike Boxes is actually really fascinating. It states at one point “[bike boxes are] thought to elevate the “status” of bicyclists relative to motor vehicles”. This may be fine in some parts of the world, but for the most part, in Melbourne’s East at least (where I reside and cycle), a cyclist sitting in front of a car is simply going to piss off the driver, and the cyclists’ status is reduced to little more than the grease on the chain.

Fact.

Having said that, the page goes on to say “The City of Copenhagen has concluded that bike boxes are most effective when combined with a brightly colored lane continuing straight through the intersection to help alert right-turning motorists to the fact that bicycle riders may be traveling straight through the intersection along their right side [Jan Gehl]”.

Little of this is done on roads near where I live. In fact, my commute involves pretty much no infrastructure for cyclists at all, until I reach the City of Yarra – a Council area on the other side of the river to where I reside.

Sadly, this is not the side of the river where my rates go. And, er, just a reminder, I live in the City of Boroondara. The only Council without a comprehensive, costed, Bicycle Strategy and yet according to Bicycle Victoria’s Super Tuesday Count for Boroondara it’s…well…this is when a picture paints a thousand words:

Screen shot 2014-02-10 at 11.43.37 PM
Need I say more? Probably not.
But I’ll close on this – with it being announced today that cycling could save the NHS over 250 million POUNDS a year in health benefits – can we please just get some green paint on the road?

With all the Intimacy of a Lover

The local Government of Victoria is instigating a new initiative for bike paths along Glenferrie Road, in Hawthorn – an almost daily journey for me. Whilst anything to do with improvements to cycling infrastructure is celebrated in my little head, I find no reason to be popping champagne bottles over this proposal.

In short, the plan is to slice half the on road bike lane in half, the half closest to moving traffic, not parked cars, and paint that half green in an effort to stop cyclists being ‘doored’.

One of the complaints that has come from the proposal is that motorists will think cyclists are only entitled to half a bike lane and so may start to park in the other half.

My issue is that cyclists use common sense (most of the time) because, well, they don’t want to die, and so hug the right hand side of the bike lane with all the intimacy of a lover as it is safer to be riding an inch from a moving tram than half a meter from a parked car. Crazy.

A solution instead might be that we get rid of parked cars altogether on Glenferrie Road or move the cars over so that cyclists are riding right up against the pavement rather than a parked car.

Slicing a bike lane in half, painting it and saying ‘that’ll do’ is not sufficient. If this becomes a spring board for genuine improvements in infrastructure then I would like to see those plans before getting too excited.

The full article is here

As I can’t help myself, I had to comment on The Age’s website where the article was. I’m nothing if not full of opinions…

I ride everywhere and I hug the right of the bike path as it is. I don’t need paint on the road to tell me to do this. Seriously, we need more Copenhagen bike lanes. Make it an inconvenience to drive, improve infrastructure for cyclists and more people will ride. NYC has had a 223% increase in cyclists since they built better infrastructure for peole to feel safe when riding. Seriously, build it and they will come.

Commenter: the_innocent_bikestander