Diva In Car

It's a gorgeous day for biking: enough of a cool breeze that I cool off when stopped, enough sun that I have to squint, and just the right temperature to be wearing my favorite brown hoodie with the ninja on it and my favorite biking capris from MEC. And I have completely lucked out in that most of my 7.5 mile trip home from work is along the Rideau River pathway and I can just zip along and enjoy the sunshine. Made the whole trip in 35 minutes today. I counted.

But, the last mile or so is up the hill on Bank Street between Riverside and Heron. And past Billings Bridge Mall. Where traffic loves to turn. And today I was just about cut off by someone turning right, in front of me, driving a sedan with one of those novelty warning signs - you know, the yellow diamond that used to read "Baby on Board" - that said, "Diva in Car."

Isn't that the problem? Divas in cars?

I guess it bothered me today because my brother was hit by a car last weekend. He was heading south at the intersection of Jane and Dundas in Toronto when someone blew through the light and caught his handlebars with his rearview mirror. Luckily, that was all the contact there was between bike and car - it could have been a lot worse - but he's still pretty banged up: went over the handlebars and apparently hit the curb back-first. Yowch.

Proof that the biking gods are kind, though - there was a cop car on the same block, and the guy got written up for running the light. And, I fervently hope, for reckless endangerment. I have yet (knock on beech-appearance foil from IKEA) to be hit by a car on Mike. I was hit, once, back in college when I was riding an eighties-pink-and-white beast I owned as a teenager, and that time I was the one blowing through the intersection, in Old Ottawa South at the bottom of Cameron on my way into Brewer Park, just outside Carleton campus. The poor middle-aged couple that hit me were horrified, and to tell the truth I was more embarassed than injured. The bike wobbled for a bit, and I think I wheeled it most of the way to Philosophy class, but I was fine. Ditto for the time I had a car door opened on me on my way down Bank two years ago. The woman who did it tried to buy me a Booster Juice to apologize.

But I remembered, when I heard about what happened to my brother, that I'd seen a listing in an article from the Citizen, of bike/car incidents and what's going on, statistically, when two wheels conflicts with four. According to the article, one in three accidents happen when the car is turning right. "Most motorists don't see the cyclists .... their brain is not looking for [them]," is the comment from Ottawa police Staff Sgt. Stuart Feldman.

Then again, looking at the raw numbers, and remembering the rate at which Ottawa drivers blow through red lights:

Collision statistics

Apparent driver manoeuvres in 2008 collisions involving motor vehicles and cyclists in Ottawa.

Going ahead: 101

Turning right: 91

Turning left: 48

Stopped: 24

Other: 28

Apparent cyclist manoeuvres in 2008 in collisions involving motor vehicles and cyclists.

Going ahead: 255

Turning left: 22

Other: 34

Source: City of Ottawa 2008 Annual Collision Report

(Update: My friend Sari read this post and sent me stats for Toronto, from the Montreal Gazette bike blog... 10% of car/bike accidents in Toronto, apparently, are the fault of the cyclist. Not all that surprising. We tend to be on our guards, heads up, eyes open - cause if we get hit things go badly. If cars hit us, they only have to worry about a scratched paint job. For the most part.)

Biking in High Park and elsewhere

My brother lives in Toronto and gets around by bike most of the time (and transit the rest of the time.) He loves it; and we're in the middle of an ongoing conversation about the differences between cycling in Ottawa and cycling in Toronto. This video playlist illustrates one of the major differences, which I think is just a matter of the size of the cities: if I want to get downtown from where I live in Ottawa South, I'm shunted onto major roads like Bank or Bronson. Alta Vista, which has its own bike lane, is the least uncomfortable street, and it is a little less direct.

In fact I talked to a friend who also lives in South Keys about this last night - to get anywhere from Ottawa South you have to cross the train tracks, and the river, and the only way to do that is on the main traffic roads. Toronto seems to have a lot of smaller streets and neighbourhoods that you can take instead of having to be on arteries.

And it's awfully pretty.

I'll add that I'm also impressed at how much you can see in this video: it beats the hell out of the visibility in Giacomo Panico's frightening video, taken for CBC Radio's Ottawa Morning, of a ride down Albert Street in Ottawa. Which is listed as a 'posted bike route' on the City of Ottawa bike map. And is also part of the Transitway, meaning it's a major bus route. Anyway, Giacomo seems to have been looking down a lot more: understandable given the completely different atmosphere on Albert, but it means you see a lot of pavement and not a whole lot else.

Compare and contrast, kids. Compare and contrast. I'm pretty happy my morning commute takes me along the River Pathway in peace and quiet. (Except for the families feeding the ducks, pigeons, seagulls and Canada Geese in the middle of the path at Parc Riverain. One of these days I'll arrive at work with a goose I've hit slung over the handlebars, ready to be barbecued.)

The Sword of Damocles

When I woke up this morning it was chilly. There was a breeze coming in through my bedroom window that felt like September. The radio said something about temperatures in the single digits. Now, I know we've had a pretty good month or so, although I have to admit that July pretty much sucked, but it was still a little harsh to have to pull on the hoodie for my ride to work.

I refused to wear sneakers instead of my sandals, though. And yes, I still have pretty painted toes (see the post on style from earlier.) Although they were a little chilly coming down Alta Vista.

I spent part of my trip to work thinking about planning for fall. Getting gloves. Finding one of those dorky reflective straps to keep my pant legs from getting covered in chain grease. Wearing *shudder* shoes. (Aw, Kermit, do you have to talk about it?) Figuring out whether I have the guts to take Riverside Drive instead of the pathway once there's snow. Coming to the realization that my ears were starting to ache from the wind. Getting into autumn-biking mode.

But it's got its own appeal. The sun's bright in the fall, and the cooler air wakes you up. For the next month or so I'll be heading out in a jacket and coming home in a T-shirt, and arriving wherever I go much warmer than when I set off. And the ride will feel cleaner somehow, more bracing, less sludgy. The cooler air in your lungs feels like it's cleaning them out. And the real hammer's not going to fall for another month or so. . .

Armstrong stops traffic

So apparently Lance Armstrong, who is in Ireland for a global cancer summit, Twittered this morning and invited Dublin to go for a bike ride with him in Phoenix Park this afternoon at 5:30 (Irish time).

More than a thousand people showed up on bikes to ride with him. Rush hour traffic was completely blocked, and the bike hire shop in the park was booked out of its 190 bikes within two hours of the Twitter announcement. (They then donated all their profits for the day to Livestrong.)

It's things like this that make me smile.

Unfair, and again unfair.

Just when I'd gotten myself set up to head out (I'd invented some errands I need to run, so as to have an excuse to bike all over Ottawa running them in the gorgeous sunny weather we're having today.) I was thinking maybe I needed to go to Westboro and the MEC to shop for, oh, say, a headlamp.

I thought, as I was about to hit the road, that maybe I should just pump up the tires a little before I go. So I got the front tire. Then as I was unscrewing the cap from the back tire, I heard a hissing burbling noise. The valve had cracked away from the rest of the tube and now Mike's sitting there hissing at me and slowly sinking on his back tire. That's a valve crack, that's not patchable. Crap.

Okay, okay, so I shouldn't have bought the things at Canadian Tire, and maybe I should be way more meticulous about replacing inner tubes so I don't stress the rubber around the valves. Lesson learned. So now, it's off to my neighbourhood bike shop on Alta Vista... on foot, of all ungodly things... for an inner tube.

And I may have to ask the guys at the shop: What is that foul-smelling gunky liquid that builds up inside your inner tubes? It's just gross. It's like... bike snot. Ew ew ew.

Bixi takes Manhattan

Montreal's Bixi bikes take Manhattan

Man, they're popping up everywhere! Like mushrooms! (Or daisies, to use a more cheerful analogy.) Go Quebec!


I believe next on the list is Berlin...?

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Chasing Cars (by Katie Malkovsky)

(Kate says: I was told I could use this for my zine. I had to share - this is not only a really crazy story, but it's really well written. Everyone should get treated at some point to one of Katie's open letters on Facebook. They're always a good read. And this one, well, it's an object lesson.)


Toronto drivers, we need to talk.

You are all insane. But I suppose that's a generalization. Rather, a few of you are insane, which gives the rest of you a bad name. But those few who are insane are completely off their rocker.

If you decide to make a U-Turn directly in front of a "no U-Turn" sign, and almost hit me on my bike, I think it a little strange to blame me for being in the way. I think it's even more strange to yell out the window about what a stupid bitch I am for not having a light on my bike. I thought I was set with my flashing red LED, my reflectors, and my helmet with reflective stripes, yet apparently all of these things only work to make me invisible. I'm sorry. I hadn't realized.

Ah, but you didn't leave it there, Toronto Driver. I'm not sure exactly what you hoped to accomplish by following me and intentionally cutting me off and trying to run me off the road, all the while screaming about my missing light. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you weren't trying to look like a complete psycho, so I suppose I should commend you for making psychosis look effortless. Three cheers for you, T.D.

Though you proved yourself to be unquestionably crazy when you pulled up ahead and over to the side of the road, waited for me to pass you, and then opened your door, hoping to hit me with it.

I have to admit, I was relieved when you finally stopped following me and just drove away, but not before you leaned out the window and screamed that I'm a "stupid fucking cunt." I think you should know that I found this insulting, though not for the reasons you may think.

I don't mind being called a cunt. I do mind that you immediately reached for a gendered insult. I couldn't just be the annoying cyclist, could I? No, I had to be the annoying *female* cyclist; the "stupid-fucking-cunt." You seem to have a deep hatred of women, Toronto Driver.

And at the end of the day, T.D., you have to know you really blew it. I'm a pretty damn responsible cyclist; one of the few who doesn't run red lights or stop signs, and I actually signal when I turn. I cause no inconvenience to you as you drive, and I like to think that my pollution-free cycling makes you breathe a little easier in this smog-filled city. As for what you can do for me, Toronto Driver? I know I'll breathe easier once you've had your license suspended, though I know this will probably happen after you hit or kill someone with your car. You're on a dangerous path, T.D.

And, just for you:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UZ0K5yGW3E&feature=related

- Katie Malkovsky (check her out on MySpace, here)