Several weeks ago I posted an article with dashcam video about roads with double yellow lines. I was driving the car, and slowed to follow a bicyclist at a blind curve on a two-lane rural highway. A large dump truck with a trailer appeared, coming from the opposite direction.
If I had held my speed and passed the bicyclist, I could not have merged left far enough to pass the bicyclist safely. Neither could the truck driver see me in time to make more room.
The location, in Lincoln, Massachusetts, USA
The bicyclist kept to the right as far as he could. He relied only on hope — and my good judgment — to avoid a close pass, or worse.
The video held a message for motorists: “What you don’t see can hurt you” — or hurt someone else (in this case, most likely the bicyclist).
Blind curves hold a message for bicyclists
To clarify this message, I later rode the same stretch on a bicycle with front and rear video cameras.
As this video shows, I mostly rode on the shoulder. Several cars and a pickup truck passed me — no problem. No oncoming traffic prevented safe passing clearance.
But as I approached the blind curve, the shoulder narrowed to almost nothing. A big truck or other large vehicle could be approaching ahead. Who knew? Who could know? Neither I nor the driver of the car approaching from behind me could see around that curve.
Here’s what I did — what I always do — to protect myself:
I checked in my rearview mirror and took a look over my shoulder. If vehicles had been closer behind, I would have have used a hand signal to negotiate my way into line.
This car was far enough back that I simply merged to lane-control position. Then I made a hand signal: “Slow.”
The driver slowed to follow me for a few seconds. Once I had rounded the curve and could see far enough ahead, I released to the right and give a friendly wave. The driver accelerated and passed me.
How control and release promotes safe passing
What did my actions achieve?
They indicated that I was aware of the driver’s vehicle behind me.
They indicated that I knew it was unsafe to pass. Maybe I knew something the driver didn’t know!
In case the driver was impatient, they made it clear that passing would have to wait until we could both see far enough ahead.
The car’s slowing confirmed to me that the driver was aware of me and acting safely.
And by releasing as soon as it was safe, I demonstrated courtesy. No motorist wants to be “stuck” behind a cyclist.
As it turned out, there was no large truck, or not even a small car, approaching from the front.
But that isn’t the point. One could have been.
Might the driver behind me have passed, unable to see far enough ahead, if I had hugged the right edge of the road? I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter, because I took active control of my safety in a potentially dangerous situation.
When my safety is at stake, I choose not to rely on others to do the right thing. As we say in CyclingSavvy courses, drivers get smarter when we lead the dance.
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/11/shadow.jpg392703John Allenhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Allen2020-11-27 11:55:092020-11-27 10:01:47“Control and Release” for safe passing
We can’t understand our present time — or plan for the future — unless we know how we got here. In a previous post, I described how I ride on Massachusetts Route 9. Now I’ll tell you what that makes me think about. Bear with me.
Backstory
One of the pleasures of riding in eastern Massachusetts is to discern the age and the history of roads from their meanderings, and by studying the buildings along them. Most rural roads here pre-date the advent of motor vehicles. That works well for bicyclists. Roads follow the contours of the land, except for notorious roads with “hill” in their name,
From the arrival of the first humans as glaciers retreated, until the arrival of settlers from Europe in the 1600s, there was only singletrack, trodden on foot.
Settlers introduced horses, oxen and wagons. Many old trails widened to doubletrack. The settlers located early town centers on hilltops for defense against Native Americans who did not like being driven from their lands. Settlers later built town centers in valleys with water power for mills. Local people would organize a “bee” — a day when they’d get together for road maintenance. Distances between towns were short, so farmers could manage a day trip by wagon to market and back.
I can infer all this as I ride my bicycle in the Eastern Massachusetts countryside. Some old roads still have stone mile markers from before the Revolution.
In the 1700s, Benjamin Franklin organized the postal service. Town-to-town roads, strung together, connected major population centers. Parts of U.S. Route 20, which passes a half mile from my home, are still called the Boston Post Road. It connected to New York and beyond.
From the Worcester Turnpike to Route 9
In the early 1800s, private companies established turnpikes with government authorization. These toll roads radiated out in several directions from Boston. The Worcester Turnpike heads west to — Worcester. The Turnpike was created in one political stroke, rather than its evolving like most roads. For this reason, it is quite straight, and for the most part, avoids town centers.
Turnpikes served budding intercity commerce, but they soon failed financially. They were expensive to construct. Unlike modern toll roads, the turnpikes had no access control. “Shunpikes” went around the tollgates.
By the mid-1800s, railroads linked cities. The turnpikes couldn’t compete. Many did continue to exist, under government management and free for users.
The eastern half of the Worcester Turnpike survived; the western half deteriorated. In 1903, the entire Worcester Turnpike revived, hosting a light rail line. Trolley cars stopped running in 1932 as increasing use of motor vehicles drained demand. Some political shenanigans occurred, too, as Joe Orfant, expert on Route 9, has told me. He has written a fascinating detailed history.
Trolley on the Worcester Turnpike in Brookline (Brookline Historical Society archive)
“The Finest Motor Road in the World”
You’ve probably read about struggles to improve roads toward the end of the 1800s, involving in no small part bicyclists and the bicycle industry. But hardly any roads outside urban areas were paved before the 1920s.
In 1933, benefiting from Depression stimulus funding, the Worcester Turnpike was designated as a segment of Massachusetts Route 9, and extensively rebuilt. At the time of this construction it was heralded as “the finest motor road in the world.” It relieved the congestion on Route 20, which meandered through town centers.
Route 9’s two roadways separated by a median identify it as a precursor of the German Autobahns and New York-area parkways, constructed in the mid- to late 1930s; the Pennsylvania Turnpike (1942); and limited-access highways everywhere.
Even though much of Route 9 seems interstate-like today, designation of the Worcester Turnpike segment as a limited-access highway has never been possible.
Today’s transportation engineers would not create this sort of roadway through a densely populated area. But by necessity Route 9 is “grandfathered,” because it is lined with businesses and residences. and offers the only access to numerous side streets.
Reaching most destinations on the opposite side requires continuing to the next interchange and doubling back. Space-saving interchanges require drivers to slow before exiting and stop for through traffic before entering. Many of these interchanges still exist, largely unchanged.
Interchange of Cedar Street and Route 9, Wellesley, Massachusetts
Massachusetts Route 9 and Bicyclists
The Worcester Turnpike segment of Massachusetts Route 9 is not quiet or pleasant for bicycling. Until recent years, though, it has been serviceable for bicyclists of an average adult skill level. Route 9’s wide shoulders are easy riding. Its slow-and-stop intersections are tame.
But parts of Route 9 have been modified, one by one, to accommodate increases in motor traffic. From early on, many minor cross streets were interrupted. This works well for bicyclists who don’t need to cross the highway, and poorly for those who do.
And when the Massachusetts Highway Department builds or reconstructs an interchange with a limited-access highway, it tends to add limited-access highway features to the intersecting road. Such it the case with the Route 95 interchange.
Full cloverleaf, original design of Route 9-Interstate 95 interchange
From the time of its construction in the early 1950s until recent years, the interchange with Interstate 95 was a full cloverleaf, as shown in the satellite image above. Route 9 had two weave areas where traffic slowing for an off ramp crossed traffic accelerating from an on ramp. These weaves were underneath the Route 95 overpass.
Traffic slowing down mixing with traffic speeding up inside an underpass on a high-speed highway is not a great concept.
Redesign of the Route 9/I-95 Interchange
Revised design in the mid-2010s eliminated the weaves, introducing instead a couple of signal-controlled left turns. This “partial cloverleaf” design includes reduced vegetation, which improves sight distances.
Revised design of Route 9/Interstate 95 interchange
What does all this mean for bicyclists?
I’ve already described the specifics of a trip which required me to ride through the interchange. Granted, the present configuration is better than the earlier full cloverleaf. As I showed in my previous post, I was able to negotiate it using lane control and a CyclingSavvy bag of tricks.
Bicyclists could use sidewalks. These meet the letter of the law for the Americans with Disabilities Act, though not exactly the spirit of the law. How would you like to negotiate a wheelchair crammed in next to high-speed travel lanes through an underpass? In winter, sidewalk users often must clamber over mounds of plowed snow. Distances are long for walking.
Opportunity is Possible in an Auto-Centric Landscape
In an ideal world, pedestrians and slower, local, wheeled traffic — people on foot, bicycles, e-bikes — would not to have to use Route 9 at all. But this traffic would have to cross Route 95 somewhere.
Including a separate underpass or overpass while reconstructing the interchange would have added little extra cost to the project. It didn’t happen, no thanks to the Massachusetts Department of Transportation Highway Division.
But a single overpass and less than a mile of paths could connect the William Street office park, east of Route 95, to Cedar Street and several residential streets to the west, also opening up a riverfront park to residents and to workers. Route 95 crosses the Charles River on a bridge north of the interchange. A path on a boardwalk could run next to the river. Just sayin’.
Paths could provide alternative access and open up a riverfront park. Click to enlarge.
Worcester Turnpike, to Route 9, to the Big Picture
My story raises the larger question of sustainability of the transportation system and world economy. The die was cast in the mid-1800s as railroads bootstrapped the accessibility of coal — fossil fuel — for themselves, for industry, and for space heating, supplanting water power and wood.
Then petroleum made possible the motor vehicles which led to demand for motor roads. These among other technological developments allowed the world to support an increasing human population.
It’s easy to look at what succeeds in the present while neglecting thoughts for the future. It should have been obvious from the start that fossil fuel resources were finite. Grimly, climate change — caused by fossil fuel use — is catching up with us faster.
I almost regret saying this, but the present Covid-19 pandemic is showing us how bicycling becomes more popular in times of crisis. No matter how the future unfolds, people will ride bicycles. The more difficult conditions get, the more people will need them. For all of us, this is motivation to make bicycling better.
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/Rt9featured.jpg5921053John Allenhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Allen2020-10-02 11:55:112020-10-08 13:17:05Worcester Turnpike to Route 9 to…?
…about bike lanes in Philadelphia, I showed how I rode on Spruce Street, a narrow one-way street in Center City with a bike lane.
When my safety required it, I merged out of the bike lane — for example, whenever I might be at risk from a right-turning motor vehicle. At those times, it was safest to be in line with motor vehicles, where the driver behind me could see me.
Such Assertiveness May Seem Strange and Forbidding
It’s indeed counterintuitive to practice “driver behavior,” and take your place in the queue with motor vehicles. Yes, they are big, and heavy, and they can go fast. But these vehicles also are controlled by drivers. You use head turns and hand signals to communicate with drivers, and move into line when one has made room for you. That driver’s vehicle is protecting you from all the other ones behind!
Putting “driver behavior” into practice on Spruce Street was easy, as traffic there is mostly slow. I had no trouble just falling into line with vehicles waiting at a traffic light.
A First-Timer’s Mistakes
If you think that CyclingSavvy Instructors always do everything right, watch today’s video. This was my first ride ever on Spruce Street. I wouldn’t do everything quite the same way a second time.
There were a couple of times when I didn’t move far enough OUT of the bike lane. I was in line with motor traffic, but I stayed in the right tire track — on the passenger side of cars — so that bicyclists in the bike lane would show in my video.
Right Tire Track Distracted Me From My Safety
That distracted me from an option which would have made my ride go better. As I reviewed raw footage, it dawned on me that most of the streets which cross Spruce Street are one-way. Some are one way right-to-left, others left-to-right.
I could take advantage of this!
Avoiding Unnecessary Delay at Intersections
Look at the incidents at one-way left-to-right cross streets. In one of these, a motorist ahead of me pulled over to the right curb just past the intersection. In the other, a motorist behind me turned right. Neither used turn signals. The driver who merged right delayed me, and I delayed the one who turned right.
Things would have gone more smoothly if I had been riding farther to the left. That is my usual practice where traffic can turn right, but it is even more emphatically correct where traffic can’t turn left.
I still won’t pull all the way over to the left, out of line with the motor traffic: even if a motorist is unlikely to turn the wrong way into a one-way street, one could still merge over to the left curb, like the one who merged over to the right curb in my video. It’s safest to wait in line.
Just For Fun
I’ve included a third incident where the mistake was made years earlier, in the design department of an automobile manufacturer halfway around the world.
In this segment, the driver did use a turn signal, but it was so far around on the other side of the car, I couldn’t see it.
This driver was yielding right-of-way to me when I should have yielded to him. To avoid a “no, you go first” situation, I went ahead. If I’d known that the driver wanted to turn right and would have to follow me, I would have been more assertively polite. Why would I want motorists behind me if they don’t have to be? I don’t!
The first two incidents illustrate why I never assume motorists will use their turn signals. The third incident brought home to me that I sometimes can’t assume that they are not using turn signals.
Savvy Cyclists Learn From Their Mistakes
While I kept safe, the encounters I’ve described could have gone more smoothly. Every ride can be a learning experience, and the next ride can go better.
More to Come
I have one more post about Spruce Street on the way. So far I’ve done my best to avoid discussing politics and religion.
But in my final Spruce Street post, churches are involved. In that post I’m going to let loose!
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/12/Screen-Shot-2019-09-30-at-1.39.50-PM.jpeg744873John Allenhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Allen2019-10-04 09:00:202020-07-21 23:26:25A Philadelphia Bike Lane Learning Experience
I’m not a great fan of riding on sidewalks. If I’m riding on anything located alongside a street, I slow way down, because I know I must be able to stop on a moment’s notice.
Sidewalk riding is sometimes exactly the right thing to do.
You may be surprised, then, when I say that sidewalk riding is sometimes exactly the right thing to do.
Route 9 is a four-lane divided highway with a 50 MPH speed limit. Quiet local streets on either side of Route 9 make some good connections for bicyclists.
Kingsbury Street T’s into Route 9 from the south. A signalized crosswalk across Route 9 connects with the sidewalk on the left side of Kingsbury Street. Push-buttons trigger the signal to stop traffic on Route 9.
Looking toward Route 9 from Kingsbury street (Wellesley, MA)
Need to cross Route 9 with your bicycle?
Push the button, use the crosswalk. End of story. Right?
Whoa, no, wait a minute. Let’s think about this.
Savvy bicyclists plan ahead.
The best strategy is to use the left sidewalk to get up to the intersection, crossing Kingsbury Street well before reaching Route 9.
Yes, I just wrote that.
Why? Think about it. I want to use the pedestrian crosswalk there to get across Route 9.
Don’t follow the on-road shared lane markings at this intersection. Easiest way to cross is to use “pedestrian” behavior
What could happen if I followed the shared lane markings in the photo and rode up almost to the corner on the right side of Kingsbury Street, and then cut across?
What if a motorist is turning right — like in the photo above — just as I want to move left to use the crosswalk cut-through? The driver coming around the corner might not see me making that maneuver until too late to avoid a collision.
Instead, I wait until there is no vehicle in front of me that might turn left into one of the last driveways before Kingsbury Street, then merge into one and ride on the sidewalk up to the corner.
I’m cognizant of being on a sidewalk, so I ride slowly enough to see into the other driveways that cross this sidewalk, no problem.
When I get to the corner, sometimes a car will have triggered the traffic signal. If not, I push the button and cross after the traffic signal changes.
Route 9 northbound from Kingsbury Street to Sprague Road (Wellesley, MA)
The picture above shows my path:
On Kingsbury Street headed for Route 9
Using one of the driveways to get onto my preferred sidewalk
Pushing the button on the corner and waiting for the signal to change
Turning left onto Route 9’s right traffic lane
Turning right onto Sprague Road
Because I’m riding off of a sidewalk
and entering the intersection from an unusual location, I’m careful to wait until all traffic has stopped. Since Route 9 is a divided highway, I can roll across to the median without concern that a motorist behind me might cut a left turn across my path.
When I get to the other side of Route 9, I turn left and ride on the road a short distance to turn right onto Sprague Road.
Wait a minute. Why does the illustration show me riding in the travel lane on high-speed Route 9? Why would I do that? There’s a wide, paved shoulder!
Well, yes, riding on the shoulder would be nice, but isn’t always possible. Have a look at the next image, a Google Street View:
Child activates traffic signals. Shoulder of Route 9 is in use as a travel lane due to construction (Wellesley, MA)
We are looking west along Route 9 from location D in the earlier image, with location E in the background. A child with a backpack is pushing the button to turn the traffic signal red and use the crosswalk. That isn’t surprising. There’s a public school on Kingsbury Street.
But in the photo, construction work is underway and the shoulder of Route 9 is serving temporarily as a travel lane. You can’t always count on an empty shoulder’s being available, whether because of construction, snow in winter, a disabled vehicle, or a state trooper issuing a traffic ticket to a wayward Massachusetts driver.
So, yes, I’m going to enter from a crosswalk and immediately turn left into the right travel lane on a highway with a 50 MPH speed limit. Scary? Not!
Confession time
For decades, I’ve worked as a bicycle safety and crash reconstruction expert. I wrote Bicycling Street Smarts, which has been published in several editions and sold more than 300,000 copies.
Even experts learn new things.
Even experts learn new things. I learned the following incredibly useful technique only last year, when I became a CyclingSavvy Instructor (that story is here).
What technique is that? Using traffic-signal timing to get a busy road to yourself.
In this case, it’s easy to move onto Route 9 from the Kingsbury pedestrian crosswalk when Route 9 traffic is stopped at the light.
I have Route 9 all to myself all the way to Sprague Road!
Using traffic signal timing to ride on “scary” roads with little to no other traffic was a revelation. (Yes, this technique is now included in the CyclingSavvy edition of Bicycling Street Smarts.)
How to cross Route 9 in the opposite direction
The most favorable route enters at Audubon Road, which Ts into Route 9 without a traffic signal or crosswalk. The image below shows the route. You ride on Route 9 from Audubon Road to Kingsbury Street, and cross there. You could ride on the shoulder (if available) and pull onto the sidewalk to push the crosswalk button.
Route 9 southbound from Audubon Road to Kingsbury Street, shoulder option (Wellesley, MA)
If the shoulder’s available, riding on it is fast and easy. If there’s absolutely no traffic on the road, you might move from Audubon directly into the left lane to get easily onto the crosswalk at Kingsbury.
Don’t do this if there’s any other traffic on the road. Traffic signals won’t help. The previous traffic signal is more than a mile back, and platoons of traffic spread out and mix together. It’s hard to judge the closing speeds of fast-moving traffic (and you don’t want to get caught up in that).
If the shoulder isn’t available, use the sidewalk.
Yes, you read that right. A quick exploration of Route 9 in Google Street View reveals that there are exactly zero driveways on the north side of Route 9 between Audubon Road and Kingsbury Street.
When planning your next bike trip or adventure, Google Maps and Google Street View are your best friends.
Instead, a long, high fence gives residents relief from the unpleasantness of Route 9 — and offers bicyclists a first-rate opportunity to ride safely on a sidewalk. Just take care around any schoolchildren or others who may be sharing the sidewalk with you.
Now that we’ve looked at both directions of travel across Route 9, let these be your takeaways:
Riding in sidewalk space is unsafe where there are hazards with turning and crossing traffic, obscured sight lines and unpredictable pedestrians.
Even so, sidewalk riding can be useful. Remember that when you’re in pedestrian space, use pedestrian behavior.
Smart use of traffic-signal timing can empty a busy street for you.
Planning ahead makes it easy to get through segments which at first appear challenging and even intimidating, because:
Google Maps and Google Street View are your best friends for armchair pre-planning.
Happy savvy cycling, wherever you ride.
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/riding-on-sidewalks.jpeg303304John Allenhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Allen2018-05-30 11:30:462018-08-23 01:29:48When Sidewalk Riding Is Your Best Option
The weather was overcast and in the 50s on that Sunday last October, as Dan Marinos ponied his horses on a quiet country road in West Newbury, MA.
“I’ve done this hundreds of times,” Dan wrote to me as background to what happened next. Dan and I connected through my work as a bicycling instructor. He wanted me to spread the word, so that all cyclists would know how to avoid what could be a dangerous or even deadly situation.
Dan wrote: “My horses are well trained and very much used to traveling on roads. But they are horses–prey animals. They choose flight when perceiving a threat.”
What was the threat? Two cyclists, who had ridden up behind Dan and his two horses. Dan was astride one and ponying (leading) the other.
“The cyclists came up silently and were upon us in an instant, much like a mountain lion would behave,” Dan wrote. “The ponied horse spooked and bolted. The horse I was on did the same, herd instinct it’s called.
“I had to let go of the second horse in order to gain control of the horse I was on,” Dan continued. “The loose horse lost his footing, went down, and slid 40 feet on his side.
“I’m extremely lucky that his wounds are superficial, and he’ll be OK. It could have been so much worse.”
Recreational horseback riders frequent many of the same trails as mountain bike riders. Amish horse-drawn buggies are common in some rural areas. Urban areas have police patrols on horseback, and horse-drawn carriages are popular with tourists.
This sign is often posted on trails. It’s a start in dealing with horses and their riders, but there’s more to that than the sign can show.
Communication is central to success as a bicyclist. With other road users, it is mostly through lane positioning, hand signals and head turns.
Horses, though, respond to different signals.
“It could have been avoided so easily,” Dan wrote. “Two words: ‘Behind you!’ If the cyclists had announced their presence, like most cyclists do, none of it would have happened.”
Dan’s advice is excellent:
“When approaching a horse on a cycle, do not stay silent, it worries them. When approaching from the front, slow down, look for direction from the rider, say anything so the horse realizes it’s a human approaching. All horses are different, a good rider who knows his horse is responsible for instructing cyclists on what to do after they greet.”
Dan continued:
“Approaching from the rear is a whole different story. They don’t see you or hear you. It is imperative you announce your approach from a decent distance.
“If this had been done the other day, I would have stopped, turned the horses so they could see what was approaching, and allowed the cyclists to pass.”
So – horses, as imposingly large as they are, are nonetheless prey animals, like deer and squirrels. Their instinct is to flee danger.
In the early days of bicycling, bicycle-mounted police were often called upon to bring stampeding horses under control. We’re not asking you to do that, only to avoid causing them to stampede in the first place.
It isn’t only the horse and rider who could be injured. It could be you, too.
This article has been about not inducing fear. But also, you might turn that thought back on yourself. Just as an example, do you have a clenching feeling in your belly if you hear car tires screeching?
Humans also experience fear, and many are fearful of bicycling. With CyclingSavvy instruction, cyclists discover how we can shed – not suppress – that fear, through bike handling, positioning for visibility and safe maneuvering, and proactive communication with other road users. These strategies avoid your surprising a driver and having car tires screech in the first place.
I extend many thanks to Dan Marinos for his concern and attention – and for writing most of this article for me. Also to Kirby Beck for digging up the stunning Collier’s magazine cover.
Be safe out there!
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/horse-sense.gif300300John Allenhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Allen2017-12-20 11:30:132018-08-27 20:50:35Use Horse Sense To Avoid A Horse Wreck
Passing strangers at the Minneapolis airport last Monday were probably a bit amused at my enthusiasm. I’d just gotten off the phone with a Wall Street Journal reporter. We talked about cyclist conspicuity. (Some of us get excited about such things.)
Here’s her story, published today in The Wall Street Journal Online. American Bicycling Education Association and its CyclingSavvy program were both mentioned. While the article primarily explored research into a number of clothing and lighting options, the reporter also mentioned the concept of lane positioning, which we teach in CyclingSavvy. I explained to her that being relevantis often as important as being conspicuous. (Stay tuned! This is the topic for my next blog post, which will run July 12.) CyclingSavvy Instructor John Allen was also interviewed for the article.
I suppose it’s all well and good if some people want to wear neon clothing and use some of the gadgets the story covered — and in some circumstances some of them certainly will help. But do we really have to dress like a science project every time we ride our bikes? With CyclingSavvy strategies you’ll find that you can usually just ride in normal clothing in the daytime, and use regular headlights and taillights at night.
In other news…
Congratulationsto CyclingSavvy Instructor Bill DeSantis (Professional Engineer for VHB, based in Providence, RI) for being named new chairman for the Bicycle Technical Committee (BTC) of the National Committee on Uniform Traffic Control Devices (NCUTCD). This committee explores, reviews and recommends new or modified traffic signs, pavement markings and traffic signals relevant to cycling on our public roads and paths. Approved devices are included in the Manual on Uniform Traffic Control Devices (MUTCD), which is what the federal government and most states adopt as the official standards for traffic controls. Five CyclingSavvy Instructors now serve on the BTC: Bill DeSantis, DeWayne Carver, John Allen, John Schubert and myself.
Bill DeSantis discovers another CSI program that doesn’t involve bicycling.
By now you may be getting the idea that the CSIs who represent ABEA know a thing or two about bicycling. They are recognized as authorities on bicycling safety and education. As a result, they are leading the conversations on bicycling safety and transportation design at a national level.
Update 7/2/2017:
We realize that the Journal piece is behind a paywall, and not wishing to run afoul of fair use laws, we won’t copy the entire story. But a few highlights and quotes:
Research into fluorescent leggings and ankle lights found both are better recognized as being associated with cyclists than fluorescent shirts or jackets or regular headlights. (But I think a motorist approaching from behind is going to see the large area of your torso from a greater distance, assuming a similar color. Depending on which direction you need to be seen from, it may be more important to be seen from a greater distance, or recognized from a shorter distance.) Ankle lights truly do sound like a good addition to your regular tail-light and headlight set-up.
While I wasn’t quoted extensively for the article, I was fortunate to literally “get in the last word.”
“Mighk Wilson, executive director of the Orlando, Fla.-based nonprofit American Bicycling Education Association, says certain strategies can make a rider more visible. One tip in the association’s classes on cycling skills is riding in the center of a lane rather than on the edge, so drivers don’t try to squeeze past or turn in front of you.
“Most important, really, is your positioning on the road, which then enhances your use of those lights and makes you more relevant,” Mr. Wilson says.”
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/mighkw.jpeg400400Mighk Wilsonhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngMighk Wilson2017-07-01 18:24:042018-08-27 21:20:34CyclingSavvy & ABEA Conspicuous (& Relevant) in The Wall Street Journal
I hope you’re reading this because you’re thinking about taking a CyclingSavvy class. Or perhaps you’re considering the online course, because workshops aren’t yet available where you live.
Ideally you’re thinking:
Who are these people?
Why should I trust them?
What makes CyclingSavvy worth my time?
A peek into Boot Camp will answer your questions.
I hear disdain from the founders: We offer nothing called BootCamp!
CyclingSavvy is new. Currently 99 people are certified as CSIs (that’s the acronym for “CyclingSavvy Instructor”). Ask any of them about their training, and you’re likely to hear these words: Hard. Intense. An ass-kicker.
Keri Caffrey uses “Chalk Talk” to illustrate an idea for CyclingSavvy instructor candidates
Ryan Scofield, a new CSI from Bonita Springs, FL, summarized his training beautifully in a Facebook post:
“Keri, Lisa, and Karen did an amazing job of simultaneously scaring the crap out of us and invigorating us.” He’s referring to CyclingSavvy founder Keri Caffrey, instructor trainer Lisa Walker, and me. (I’m learning how to become an instructor trainer. That’s another story.)
“It’s a big deal to design these courses and teach classes,” Ryan wrote, “and it’s not to be taken lightly.”
CSIs are entrusted with a solemn responsibility: Teaching people how to ride safely anywhere. This naturally includes riding on all kinds of roads. (Click through on any of our videos, and you’ll understand why we throw away the vast majority of our footage. It’s boring.) If you’re going to show people on bicycles how to take their place in traffic and love it, you’d better know what the heck you’re doing.
“Taking a CyclingSavvy class is easy and fun,” observes CSI John Schubert. “Taking the instructor training is difficult. The difference is because the instructors have to know a lot to make the class easy and fun for the students.”
Yep, he’s that John Schubert, affectionately known as one of “The Johns.” In the United States a group of men named John have helped untold numbers become better bicyclists through their books, essays and advocacy.
An article that Schubert wrote for Adventure Cycling Magazine inspired me (a Missourian) to travel to Florida to check out CyclingSavvy.
“I am well aware of the bad rap education has received,” Schubert wrote in that article. “Visualize a middle-aged guy with a pot belly filling out his jersey spending way too much time explaining gearing to a bored audience before launching into that overly sincere ‘bicycles are vehicles’ speech.
“Now imagine the gearing lecture all gone and the speech replaced by interactive teaching methods that truly engage the students.”
How to engage people: That’s what boot camp instructor training is all about. At every step in the process, candidates are exhorted to put students first. “The most precious thing people give us isn’t their money,” Lisa Walker told the candidates. “It’s their time.”
John Allen is perhaps best known as the guy who wrote Bicycling Street Smarts, with more than 300,000 copies distributed in multiple languages. Keri credits him with being one of her first teachers.
In an exquisite turn of events, John was an excellent student in Keri & Lisa’s March 2017 training. Here’s another thing we CSIs have branded into our skulls: We are always learning. We learn from each other. We learn from our students. We are always looking for ways to make what we do better.
About halfway through the training weekend, John Allen said something that stopped us in our tracks. We were working in a parking garage on a chilly Saturday in Downtown Orlando, learning how to effectively teach bike handling skills. Suddenly this national bike safety expert marched over to Lisa and pronounced:
“I’m humbled with what I’ve learned that’s above and beyond what I already knew.”
After a intensely gratifying moment of silence, Lisa responded: “Thank you, John! I want to hug you for saying that.”
And she did.
CyclingSavvy Instructors in Orlando, March 2017. From left: Karen Karabell, Shannon Martin, Yvonne LeFave, Steven Goodridge, CyclingSavvy founder Keri Caffrey, Esther Lumsdon, Instructor Trainer Lisa Walker, Dan Carrigan, John Allen, Ryan Scofield & Katherine Tynan.
On May 19 & 20 John Allen and Charlotte, NC’s inimitable Pamela Murray are leading Boston’s first CyclingSavvy workshop. John reports that he is loving spreading the word to folks in Beantown. “Why?” he says. “Because I have something positive and engaging to offer people.”