Open Your Eyes: We Need Better Bike Lanes
I was one of the gazillion riders pedaling around the city in Bike New York’s annual Five Boro Bike Tour recently. I know, anecdotally and through personal encounters, that some participants in the ride have traveled thousands of miles to the start, and that others only pull out their trusty (rusty) steeds for this once-a-year tour of the town. Certain celebrants were clearly out to have more than the usual amount of fun, despite the drizzle: clusters of bedecked helmets (rubber duckies are a perennial favorite), costumed cyclists (a group of urban superheroes sporting capes drifted by), and a few bikes pimped out with things like boomboxes provided entertainment for those in their vicinity. I am told by an eyewitness that at least one unicycle pedaled the 42 mile route.
Me, I was grumpy. I had a cold. It was raining. I hate riding in dense crowds of amateur cyclists. I especially hate crashing. I was on a clunky borrowed bike, not my usual sleek-handling roadster. Oh yeah, and I had a blind person riding on the back of this borrowed tandem, which meant I was doubly responsible for safety and paranoid about collisions. (We emerged unscathed, whew.) At times, the roads were so congested with bikes that we had to dismount and walk forward at a pace too slow to roll. Let’s say it was hectic. “Why are all these people doing this?” I wondered to myself.
On Sunday’s ride, there were at least fifteen tandems with visually impaired stokers on board. (In tandem speak, the “captain” rides in front, navigating and operating the brakes and gears; the powerhouse on the rear seat is the “stoker”, at term reminiscent of coal-fired locomotives.) We were riding as part of Achilles Track Club’s relatively new tandem program in New York City, which got its unofficial start a few years ago when visually impaired athletes snagged a few good souls who agreed to captain the obstacle course known as the 5 Boro Bike Tour. Today the program is staggering under the weight of its own popularity; for the biweekly rides around Central Park there are always more stokers than tandems or captains. And no wonder: for the many blind and visually impaired people in this country, certain activities are impossible or must be heavily circumscribed. But this way, visually impaired people can experience “the exhilaration of biking,” as one stoker put it. “I especially take this on because it is possible,” he said, “when so many things seem. . . foreclosed to me for reasons beyond my control.” The stokers in the Achilles Tandem program sing gushing praise for the captains, the exercise, the thrilling freedom of cycling through spring sunshine and gusty squalls alike. They do the 5 Boro Bike Tour because they can; if you give our stokers an offer involving “bike” and a verb in the same sentence, they will agree without a moments’ notice.
For the most part, we ride one or two or maybe three circuits of the loop road of Central Park. And there is usually an Achilles contingent participating in rides like the Transportation Alternatives Century, the Tour de Brooklyn, and similar mass rides. I have taken an intrepid few on a furtive crosstown dash to ride on the Hudson Greenway, for a change of pace, but for the most part, our Achilles athletes pedal valiantly around and around and around the Central Park loop. It is simply the only safe place to take an unwieldy tandem with vulnerable cargo when one’s de facto starting point is Central Park, where the bikes are stored.
This is the cycling equivalent of riding a merry-go-round and calling it equestrian training.
And it would be completely unnecessary if our fair city were as cycling friendly as other major metropolitan areas who have managed to integrate bicycle facilities, and cyclists of various levels of ability and skill, into their transportation networks.
Overbearing NYC auto traffic is, in fact, one reason that the 5 Boro Bike Tour is able to field over 35,000 cyclists for a day of bicycle gridlock. For that ride, the roads are almost completely closed to cars, including huge auto thoroughfares like the FDR Drive. Closed roads mean that a serious collision is more likely to include a few scrapes, bruises and bent spokes, rather than death: a real risk of cycling on city streets in regular traffic. This is a proposition that most cyclists happily accept.
There are hundreds, if not thousands, of New York City residents just like the blind athletes circling the park. They want to ride – they’d be thrilled to ride – all over the Upper West Side if it were a reasonable thing for a reasonably prudent person to do. They do not dwell on their impairment, but the fact is that what is tolerated as normal city traffic presents an enormous obstacle to any person, visually impaired or otherwise, who might want to engage in normal activity like riding a bike.
In a perverse chicken-and-egg problem, the Upper West Side has relatively few cyclists because the roads are inhospitable for cyclists, which creates the appearance of low demand for cycling facilities, although the true story is that cyclists who value their lives and limbs are simply afraid to ride on the roads. Those of more limited skill or physical ability simply cannot improve their riding skills here without running an unacceptable risk of serious injury or death by careless motorists.
This is not how a city that cares for its residents is supposed to behave. This is not a tenable state of affairs for any city anticipating growth in residency and traffic, like ours.
The solution to this problem is both bold and simple: a physically protected bike route, running on honest-to-gosh city streets, where people might actually want to, you know, achieve something more than one more loop around the park. A bike is a great way to run errands, check out that new coffee shop eight blocks away, or pick up a quart of milk. (What? Your bathroom light bulb just burned out and the hardware store closes in eight minutes? Quick, Bikegirl, grab the two-wheeler!) And many cities around the country and the world have managed to integrate bikes into the fabric of everyday life, without relegating cycling to the fringes of town where very little commercial activity takes place. Cycling is a non-polluting, quiet, lower-speed, space-efficient, healthy, happiness-inducing means of transportation. Cycling facilities that encourage cycling, protect users, and draw motorists’ attention to more vulnerable users like bikes and pedestrians, benefit all citizens. One year after installing a physically protected bike lane on Ninth Avenue, the Department of Transportation found that injuries from all kinds of collisions were down dramatically, despite an astounding 57% increase in cycling in the area. Sidewalk cycling was down by 80%, demonstrating that many people who ride on the sidewalk do so because they don’t have a safe space to do so on the street, where they belong. Consult your handy copy of the NY Vehicle and Traffic Code: bikes belong in the street. It’s hard to tell that given the current state of speedy affairs on Upper West Side avenues.
Cycling routes like those in Central Park and the Hudson River Greenway are valuable and well loved, but they highlight the lack of truly useful and sensible bike routes that have been integrated into city life. If you want to bike here, you may either go around in circles, ride up and down along the river, or risk your life. That these are our choices indicates we are suffering from severe civic disabilities.
Surprisingly, it took an encounter with blind people to truly open my eyes.


I want to thank you again for coming out last Thursday for the launch of the