Abide by the law. If you want drivers to treat you with respect, that's a two-way street. "You've got to become part of the system," Eichstaedt says. "When you really put yourself out there, visible signalling, stopping at all signs, you'll find you virtually have no conflicts."
If I am doing a track-stand at a 4-way stop, please do not engage me in a kindness contest. This confuses everyone, and it's really difficult to hold a track stand for more than a few seconds. Follow the normal order, and go when it's your turn!
When you're dead center in the lane they have to pass you like a car, or sit behind you. It might drive them crazy to have to go 10km/h while I'm going uphill, but I'd rather get to work alive than make drivers happy. Cyclists really, really need to learn to take their lanes, it's a lot safer.
posted by Stagger Lee
The simple fact is that even bikes need certain infrastructure to make commuting feasible. Because even three and a half miles can sometimes be too far to go by bike.
posted by Nomyte
Riding on roadways and bicycle paths.
(1) Every person operating a bicycle upon a roadway at a rate of speed less than the normal flow of traffic at the particular time and place shall ride as near to the right side of the right through lane as is safe except as may be appropriate while preparing to make or while making turning movements, or while overtaking and passing another bicycle or vehicle proceeding in the same direction. A person operating a bicycle upon a roadway or highway other than a limited-access highway, which roadway or highway carries traffic in one direction only and has two or more marked traffic lanes, may ride as near to the left side of the left through lane as is safe. A person operating a bicycle upon a roadway may use the shoulder of the roadway or any specially designated bicycle lane if such exists.
A tip for drivers - When opening a car door into the street, even if you've checked behind you to be sure things are clear, open it just a bit for a moment before opening it the rest of the way. If you miss a car or bike or even runner coming up behind you, that gives them warning that the door's about to open a lot.
Just five minutes ago my pup and I were on our mid-morning walk and we happened upon a local bus stopped in the middle of the block, in the right lane, which is also a "sharrows" lane (bicycles and cars share the lane), emergency blinkers flashing. The bus was empty and the driver was on the pavement taking photos of the back right wheel well, which was creased against the tire. A smear of sky blue paint was laid atop the brilliant red of the bus. It began as a scratch just in front of the wheel well, deepened and spread nearer the wheel, and reached up and over where the evidence stopped in two sudden swooshes, like clouds with their sides sheared off.
Behind the bus were a couple of local BusCo supervisor vehicles (Ford Escape Hybrids), and beyond those, out front of the hardware store, was a sky blue Toyota Prius with its front right wheel squished into the curb and the driver's side door rent open, pulled forward, and deeply crinkled.
A woman who appeared to be the car's driver talked nervously into her cell phone and gestured at the car. She was dressed in black lycra and a hoodie -- there's a gym up on the next the block and one assumes she must have been late for her spinning class or whatever and so, in her haste, came this close to becoming bus meat.
As I stood ogling the scene, stunned by the synchronicity of it all*, one of the mothers parked on the wood and iron benches outside the hardware store, where there's a wooden toy train set for the kids to fuss with and fight over, said, "Wow. Well I guess it's lucky she didn't hit a bicycle rider."
Check your mirrors, people.
*Not to mention the too sweet preciousness of it all: Walking the dog; sunny sidewalk; well used sharrows; clean, efficient mass transit; kids playing with wooden train sets; hardware store owners kind enough to put out toys for children; the busco's hybrids; the victim's Prius; the other ogler's concern.
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