One of the things we teach savvy cyclists is that a bright sun, low on the horizon, can be a dangerous condition. Google “sun glare driving.” As with operating around big trucks, how to handle this condition is an essential need-to-know for cyclists.
CyclingSavvy’s classroom presentation includes photos of how a bike can be hard to see in circumstances when the sun is in the eyes of another vehicle operator. Every driver of every vehicle should be mindful of that, but you don’t want to encounter a driver who isn’t so mindful.
My riding seldom puts me in a position where I have to worry about this. But it happened on June 12.
The longer the shadow, the greater the danger.
I had gone on an important errand. My wife wanted a squirt gun, to do battle with squirrels that trespass our backyard bird feeder. And by gum, I headed straight for the nearest Dollar Tree and got her a good one. It’s a bazooka-style pool toy, with a range of 20 feet or so.
On my way home from the store, the sun was low, less than two hands’ width above the horizon, glaring down the road and causing my eyes to squint.
I remembered the succinct way Bob Sutterfield had summarized what to know:
“Your shadow points in the direction of the people who can’t see you.”
My shadow was pointed straight down the road behind me
I found myself with a perfect example of “sun glare driving” blindness. The people behind me couldn’t see me.
This was a narrow two-lane road, with no shoulder, no alternatives, and no intersection for the next few furlongs. After a minute of nervous-nellying, I knew what I had to do.
I got off my bicycle. I moved to the other side of the road. And I walked.
Now I was a pedestrian, easily visible to oncoming motorists. No problem.
I stopped and took two photos. The photos aren’t perfect, because I couldn’t prop my bike in the roadway. Instead, I leaned the bike against a signpost in the grassy swale beside the road. Nonetheless, my photos make the point.
Looking into the sun, straight ahead. Can you see the bicycle?
It’s right here! With the sun at my back, the world is crystal clear. Therein lies the ironic danger
Your Shadow Points to the Danger
Can you see my bike in the sun-in-the-eyes photo? You’ll have to look for a minute.
Would you see it, if you were wearing sunglasses and looking through a dirty tinted windshield? Why risk that?
In the away-from-the-sun photo, everything in front of you is visible. But even so, there are still hazards. Oncoming motorists can’t see you, and motorists at intersections in front of you can’t see you. So they might turn across your path.
That’s the dangerous irony of this condition. When you’re riding along with the sun at your back, you might think everything’s crystal clear and hunky-dory. It isn’t!
If the sun’s in your face, you may have to go for a walk like I did. If the sun is behind you, you can probably ride safely, provided you are very aware that motorist in front might not see you.
So, that day, I decided I’d just mellow out and enjoy the walking interlude. And then the road shifted direction slightly, and a combination of terrain and tree canopy blocked the sun somewhat. I got back on the bike and rode the rest of the way.
My decision to stay safe added five or 10 minutes to my trip time. That was time well spent to have 100 percent immunity against that crash cause.
And my wife enjoys her squirt gun.
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/low-sun.jpeg349400John Schuberthttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Schubert2018-06-27 11:30:222019-10-02 23:40:16When the Sun is Low, Don’t Go (Or Find Another Way)
Observe a moment of silence for Trinh’s memory, and for the agony of his family and loved ones. I feel a heavy sadness that this post even needs to be written. But we must address the sober task of learning from this tragedy.
Believe it or not, dooring never has to happen. The real tragedy is that door zone riding is so heavily promoted, even after decades of observing the carnage it causes. And the blogosphere is not addressing this tragedy.
Trinh was riding in a door zone bike lane. You can see it here:
Why does this happen? The typical scenario is that the bicyclist almost avoids the open door, and her handlebar end catches on the door. The handlebars swing to the right, which dumps the bicyclist onto the pavement to her left. The nearby overtaking motorist can’t stop in time, and runs over the bicyclist.
An overtaking vehicle is not necessary for serious personal injury or death. Instead, the victim hits the ground hard enough to sustain a fatal injury. In at least one case that Brooking recorded, a helmet did not prevent a fatal head injury. This isn’t surprising. If you’ve ever tripped and fallen in the bathtub, you know you can fall fast and hit hard. Add in the bicyclist’s speed, and that’s a faster, harder hit.
Non-fatal door collisions are a dime a dozen.
From brain injury to broken collarbones, the injuries can be tragic. And there are so many of them! I recall an article about a door collision in Portland, Oregon, in which a sympathetic bystander said to the victim: “Is this your first time?”
Door collisions usually aren’t counted and totaled. Here’s why: For a bicyclist’s crash to make it into “the system” for purposes of counting and statistical analysis, it has to involve a serious collision with a moving motor vehicle. The swinging door doesn’t count as “moving.”
Because these collisions aren’t counted, some people prefer to believe they aren’t a frequent problem. To that I respond: “Count the personal injury lawyers whose practices are primarily focused on dooring crashes.”
One exception to “not counted” occurred in Chicago some years ago. The city was required to count door collisions, and it produced a map with a dot for every collision. The map has lots of dots:
Dooring collisions have occurred for decades.
They cost millions. And when society believes cyclists should ride in the door zone, dooring collisions create the perception that bicycling has huge inherent dangers that can’t be avoided.
So we take a deep breath and ask:
What is it with dooring crashes?
Why do we have so many?
Why do we make so little headway in preventing them?
Why do engineers continue to stripe door zone bike lanes, when they know that crashes like Trinh’s are an inevitable consequence of door zone riding?
There’s only one way to avoid dooring crashes.
Here’s my premise: Safety results from safe behaviors. Traffic control devices should direct all road users to behave safely. A door zone bike lane fails this premise.
There is one, and only one, way for a bicyclist to absolutely avoid dooring crashes: Don’t ride in the door zone. So from my point of view, proponents of door zone bike lanes must dispute the premise that traffic control devices should direct all road users to behave safely.
Why?
Let’s start with the “respect” some people believe bicyclists “deserve” from the rest of society. This “respect” insists that motorists consider bicyclists they haven’t seen, don’t know exist, but may be sneaking up in their door zone. I’ve often heard people say that painting bike lanes green will increase respect and awareness — i.e., that motorists will see the green paint and be aware that a bicyclist might be there.
A bicyclist can prevent almost all traffic crashes by changing her own behavior.
Awareness didn’t work very well for Ayden Seguritan, a Yale-educated physician’s assistant. She was cycling in the door zone on Harvard Street in Cambridge, MA, and got doored. Then the motorist stepped out of the car. . . wearing her bicycle helmet. The motorist had just finished riding a bike herself.
How can you be more aware of bicycling than this motorist? Nope, “awareness” isn’t going to prevent these collisions.
Why do some bicycling advocates continue to beat the “awareness” drum — and actually ask for door-zone bike lanes — instead of going for the silver bullet of staying out of the door zone?
There are numerous reasons.
The biggest is an unwillingness to let go of an assumption: that edge riding is inevitable.
What’s edge riding? We think of bicyclist behavior as falling into three categories: Pedestrian behavior, edge behavior and driver behavior. A pedestrian-behaving cyclist rides on the sidewalk, and is very susceptible to many crash types. An edge rider, on the right edge of the road, is doing what most people think is safe, but which has its own long list of crash hazards.
We all started cycling by being edge riders. And even though edge riding is at the root of most bicycle crashes, many can’t fathom the idea of not riding on the edge of the road.
This belief has many roots. One is that many people really still believe that overtaking motorists shouldn’t be inconvenienced in the slightest. (Changing lanes to pass! How difficult! What a first world problem!) It’s distressing how many bicyclists cling to this notion.
Another root, found among the jock set, is subliminal: edge riding is difficult and stressful. Jocks like to think that what they do is difficult, and that they are brave for doing it, and they are vaguely threatened by the notion of old grey-haired people blissfully riding in the heavy traffic they fear.
A third root is the concept that traffic control devices are promotional tools for bicyclists, not necessarily safety tools. Some bicyclists feel validated when they see a bike lane. It can be horrid — in the door zone, with a gutter seam and sewer grate, a pothole and mountain of broken glass. But by gum, it’s a bike lane, and that says the government loves bicyclists.
Andrew Boone, a Silicon Valley activist, described the love of bad bike lanes this way:
The whole San Francisco Bay Area features a very extensive network of bike lanes of all kinds — the good, bad, and the ugly. Door Zone Bike Lanes are probably the most common type and all the big local bicycle coalitions support them as ‘better than nothing.’ New ones are still being installed and very few are ever removed.
I have tried hard without success to convince the San Jose Department of Transportation to stop installing them but everyone in the department agrees they are ‘better than nothing’ so they keep installing them. This is pretty much true everywhere in the Bay Area — door zone bike lanes are viewed as an improvement even by most bicyclists and somehow most city staff members remain ignorant on the hazards of dooring.
Some engineers simply don’t understand the dangers, or think the dangers can be fixed with rabbit’s-foot countermeasures. That doesn’t work. Last month, the city of Key West, FL painted some door zone bike lanes green. A local cyclist sardonically announced that green was the new “hazard alert” color.
But this highlights another problem. You can’t make an unsafe behavior safe with paint. And it doesn’t work to change the color of the paint.
The city of Key West would do well to remember what happened when Portland, Oregon tried to make an unsafe bike lane safe. On May 16, 2012, shortly after the city put green paint in the bike lane on SW Madison Avenue, Kathryn Rickson was killed in that bike lane. Rickson’s death was the result of a bad bike lane design.
This door zone bike lane in Key West just got green paint
The CyclingSavvy approach doesn’t tell the cyclist to look for validation or personal safety in a politically motivated, poorly designed bike lane. Instead we tell you that your own behavior is what validates you and maximizes your safety.
A bicyclist can prevent almost all traffic crashes by changing her own behavior.
That very thought is alien to many. To some, it’s downright offensive.
You heard me right. Some people get offended when you try to tell bicyclists how to ride safer.
A surprising number of people prefer to view bicycle crashes as either (a) completely random, or (b) the fault of someone else. These beliefs fuel the society-wide opinion that bicycling has huge risks that can’t be managed. They’ve contributed to an overall decline nationwide in cycling.
Shouldn’t there be a law?
Well, there usually is. State laws typically find a motorist at fault for opening a car door and causing a crash. But the abysmal compliance with that law should convince you to neither rely on it nor tell other cyclists to rely on it.
Well, doesn’t the law at least give you the right of recovery after a crash? Big maybe. In one case, Washington DC Superior Court Judge Robert Skuker acknowledged that there was a law against opening one’s door in traffic, but also noted that the bicyclist had the right to use the right travel lane. The judge wrote:
[A] person exiting an automobile would not reasonably expect that a cyclist would be traveling at a rapid speed within a foot of her car. Accordingly, one could not conclude that a reasonable person should believe that cracking the car’s door no more than six inches would cause a cyclist to veer into a lane of moving traffic.
The judge ruled against the bicyclist (Wing v. Schmidt, September 1980).
Now it’s time to return to Mr. Trinh’s tragic case and the blogosphere. The countermeasure that bloggers have most often suggested is something called the Dutch Reach. This is a campaign to get motorists to reach across the steering wheel with their right hand to open the car door. The belief is that this will naturally cause motorists to look out for overtaking door zone bicyclists.
But the belief is bogus. There are numerous problems with this so-called solution that I’ll expand on another time. In the words of one knowledgable Southern California activist, Nevram Norman, “I’ve tried the ‘Dutch reach.’ It doesn’t force me to look backwards, it just crosses my arms.”
I eagerly await the day when it becomes common knowledge that bicyclists are better served by simply riding outside of the door zone.
A few months ago I led a CyclingSavvy group on a tour of Philadelphia. We were controlling the right travel lane on Spring Garden Street, staying outside of the door zone bike lane. An overtaking motorist — who was not inconvenienced, even for a second, in changing lanes to pass — told us to get in the bike lane. And just like that, a Toyota Prius door flung open in the bike lane.
We weren’t in danger. We didn’t care. We were riding safely.
Friends don’t let friends ride in — or promote — door zone bike lanes.
>>>>>>>> This article has been updated with a correction. An earlier version said the city of Key West was using green paint to highlight the known hazard of a door zone bike lane. That is incorrect. The city does not believe that design is a hazard. <<<<<<<<<<<
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/green-means-hazard.jpeg308400John Schuberthttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Schubert2018-05-02 11:30:042018-08-23 17:09:13The Real Door Zone Tragedy
Two recent tragic bicyclist deaths in Florida resulted in a local newspaper column extolling the importance of daytime running lights. Without going into detail about these tragedies, I’ll say one thing: It’s doubtful that either death would have been prevented by daytime running lights.
That’s the thing about tragedies and safety equipment. Whatever safety equipment you’re enamored of — daytime running lights, protective padding, helmets — it will help some times, but not others. But when you’re upset because a friend died, that kind of thought-chopping doesn’t come to mind.
Of this you can be sure: Safety equipment is an area where “always” and “never” don’t exist, and where emotional baggage leads all of us to want to cling to a magic solution.
As an expert witness in bicycle crash reconstruction cases, I believe daytime running lights are usually superfluous. Yes, there are specific occasions where they do help. But they often are used as a makeshift solution for problems best solved by behavior change. If daytime running lights are offered as a do-it-all solution, they become grist for victim blaming when a cyclist was doing nothing wrong.
When To Light Up
Let’s start with the situations where daytime running lights do help. These would include fog, heavy rain, the sun low on the horizon, confusing lighting, and short sight distances on curvy roads.
Fog can reduce visibility to a very short distance. Where I live, in the hills of eastern Pennsylvania, the hilltops can be in the clouds and the valleys can be clear. Sometimes I may need daytime running lights — very bright ones at that — to be seen in the fog. But a half-mile later, I’m out of the fog, and visibility is good.
Some of the curviest country roads make a case for daytime running lights. Even so, if you measure the actual sight distance on a curvy country road, you’ll be surprised at how far it really is. There’s plenty of space to slow down from curvy-road driving speed to cyclist speed. But there’s no harm in giving the overtaking motorist a wake-up call.
Scott Slingerland, executive director of Bethlehem, PA’s Coalition for Appropriate Transportation, demonstrates the effectiveness of daytime running lights earlier this month in Easton, PA.
Scott is easy to see coming and going. But is this because of his lights?
Lane Position
It’s your lane position that affects how soon you’re seen, often more than any light can. This is especially true on curvy roads. If you’re hugging the curb on a curve to the right, you come into view later than a rider using a lane control position.
Dappled mottled light, on a tree-shaded road, makes a case for daytime running lights. The brain takes longer to assemble the picture of a bicyclist in such lighting conditions.
Daytime running lights need to be bright enough to be conspicuous in daylight. If not, they’re no more effective than a rabbit’s foot. How often have you seen a bicycle light, in bad need of new batteries, blinking feebly — in broad daylight? I saw several on a recent trip to Philadelphia. A dim, poorly aimed daytime blinkie just sucks up the electricity to make the light even less effective at night when that rider absolutely needs it.
Brightness costs money. The least expensive bike lights (less than $10 for a front-and-rear set from a major discount retailer) are usually bright enough for nighttime use. But I wouldn’t bet on those lights being noticed on a sunny day. To be seen in daylight, you want a more powerful light. The taillights that have a strobe function (Portland Design Works Danger Zone and Planet Bike Superflash are two that come to mind) cost more than this. So do brighter headlights.
I recommend that you test daytime running lights in the situation when you might use them. Turn them on, take them outside, and see how they appear from 50 paces away. Do they jump out at you? Are you sure? Remember, you’re an alerted observer, and you are far more attentive to them than the people you want to see them. Those people are un-alerted observers.
When the Sun is Low: Your Shadow Points to the Danger
Does a daytime running light really solve the sun-low-on-the-horizon problem?
While the world probably looks clear to this cyclist, his shadow points toward drivers on a high-speed arterial road who have the sun in their eyes – and may not see him as he violates their right-of-way
As we teach in CyclingSavvy, the sun low on the horizon can be a serious problem. Your shadow points in the direction of people who can’t see you. And in the class, we tell people to take a different route or to wait a few minutes for the lighting conditions to change.
The need to verify your lights’ adequacy is most especially true when the sun is low and casting glare. In that situation, you’re asking your daytime running lights to overpower the entire sun! If you do a good observation experiment — with several observers, please — take good notes and tell us what you saw. We’ll publish it. Bonus points if you take a good photo.
Blinded By The Light
What if your light is too bright? At a minimum, you annoy people. You distract drivers from their ongoing job of absorbing visual information and then going on to the next bit of visual information.
It’s a fad — a bad fad, in our opinion — to make emergency vehicle lighting so bright and so discordant that it’s difficult to look away from it. But look away you must, in order to focus on the path you need to travel. The driver needs to watch where she’s going, and watching the light display interferes with that.
Some of today’s lights are strobes, rather than light-emitting diodes. Are they too bright? In some situations, yes. For daytime running lights in pea-soup fog, probably not.
Remember, in normal lighting conditions, a cyclist in a black shirt is easy to see from 200 yards away. And all of us have an obligation to be looking when we drive.
Daytime running lights make you more visible, certainly. But if you were already visible, does making you more visible help? I don’t think so. You need to be relevant as well as visible. The nature of driving is that the driver discards most visual information. When he sees a bicyclist on the shoulder, his brain thinks, “That cyclist is out of my way, and he’s not a factor.” A blinking light is unlikely to change that thought process.
Any search engine will find you dozens of articles in which daytime running lights are praised as if they are mother’s milk. In those articles, people who don’t use daytime running lights are badmouthed. This is stunningly irresponsible, because it aids and abets victim blaming where it matters most — in court.
Imagine yourself, the victim of a motorist-at-fault car/bike collision. You were plainly visible. But the defense counsel brings out a stack of articles telling you what a jerk you were for not using daytime running lights. He asks you to read them aloud on the witness stand. Your emotions go south and your blood pressure skyrockets. After the first dozen articles, he calls for a break, and out in the hall, offers you $100 to settle the case then and there.
So. . . use daytime running lights mindfully. And promote them cautiously.
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/daytime-running-lights.jpeg267400John Schuberthttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngJohn Schubert2018-02-07 11:30:392018-08-23 18:39:12Daytime Lights: Magic Bullet Or Not?
How fast is your city? You might have missed this info at the bottom of last week’s post about electric bikes. For most trips, an e-bike could get you to your destination as quickly as your car.
The trick is knowing how to keep yourself safe while you zip around.
Part Two
Four days after returning to St. Louis, I walked into my local e-bike dealer with my credit card ready. My husband and I didn’t own a cargo bike. After riding my sister’s electric cargo bike in Nashville, I wanted to see for myself if an e-cargo bike could truly replace car trips.
One less car.
While we looked around the store, my husband noticed a lovely commuter bike. “That one’s used,” Archie, the dealer, told us.
It looked hardly used, and was deeply discounted. Harold and I would be able to ride together!
We bought it, and that hasn’t happened. Harold prefers his 100 percent human-powered bikes. There’s certainly good reason for that. With e-bikes it’s easier to get in trouble, because of the higher speeds a person can go. Harold calls himself “Old Turtle.” He likes to go slow.
I love using both e-bikes. To my surprise, I’m on the commuter much more than the cargo e-bike. I was on the commuter e-bike when I crashed.
A previous owner named the bike “Black Beauty.” I call it the “Black Stallion,” because it zips along like the most gorgeous beast.
When I had my accident, I was riding on Kingshighway, one of our town’s major arterial roads. The Stallion and I were zipping over to The Hill, an Italian neighborhood about three miles from my home. I was in the outer of three lanes and stopped at a red light with other traffic. I planned to turn right, and had already signaled my intentions to the driver behind me.
While waiting at the light, I glanced to my left at a woman in a white car. She thankfully saw me, too, because of what happened next.
The light turned green. A shiny red pickup truck in front of me started to go. The Stallion took off as I engaged both the throttle and pedal assist, which was in its highest speed.
Then the driver in front of me stopped.
I slammed on my brakes to avoid hitting the back of the truck. Because this e-bike’s back end is heavy — that’s where the battery is — I didn’t fly over the handlebars. But I did lose control. I fell to the left on the road, and was suddenly blocking two of the three lanes of traffic.
At the time I had a milk crate zip-tied to the rear rack. As I fell over, the crate’s contents spilled onto Kingshighway. (Yes, after this escapade I started using a bike cargo net.)
The woman in the middle lane stopped her white car and jumped out. “Are you OK?” she asked. “I’m fine,” I responded as I stood and lifted my bike back up. “I just didn’t want to hit the truck in front of me.”
I don’t know what story she told that night at her dinner table, but that’s my version. Mainly I was embarrassed, holding up TWO of the three lanes of traffic going in my direction. All I wanted was to get out of the way.
The woman found my U-lock in front of her car. She picked it up and gave it to me. I waved apologetically to all the people I was holding up and walked my bike and bruised ego onto the sidewalk.
This is typically how the Kingshighway bridge looks as I cross it. There’s nothing scary about empty pavement!
While the light is red, though, lots of others pull up and wait at the light with me. When I slammed on my brakes and crashed to avoid hitting a pickup truck in front of me, this bike and I blocked two of the three traffic lanes.
I’ll make a mistake once, but not twice. As soon as I got home, I described what happened to my fellow CyclingSavvy instructors. I needed to talk about this. I never dreamed I could smash a bicycle into the back of someone else’s vehicle! CSI Brian Cox, a fellow e-bike enthusiast and bike shop owner in Southern California, had excellent advice.
“Leave a car length between you and the motorist in front of you,” Brian wrote. “You now have the speed to beat motorists off the line and you are responsible to not hit the motorist in front of you.
“With a people-powered bicycle, you did not have the acceleration capability you now have with a motorized bicycle.”
CSI John Schubert offered framing that I’d never considered.
“With an eBike, we ordinary riders can now ride at racing speeds,” he observed. “We therefore need the vigilance, razor sharp attention, and caution that go with riding that fast.”
Hmm. John’s right, though when I’m practicing “driver behavior,” I’ve felt fine riding the bikes at their max speeds of 20 to 25 MPH.
E-bikes magnify the need to understand both cyclist and motorist behaviors. For example…
My e-bikes have indeed replaced my car trips. But I’m well aware that they are still bikes — and that no motorist wants to be behind me, even if I am going as fast as Lance.
This is part of being savvy, too: How to help others who want to go faster than you do so, easily and without conflict.
Then — especially on an e-bike — you invariably pull right up behind them at the next red light. Just make sure not to hit ’em.
CSI Shannon Martin had comforting words.
“As more riders adopt e-bike technology, experiences like yours will help riders understand the power of the machines they ride and the need for sound bicycle handling skills to keep themselves safe.”
https://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2018/02/ebikes-karen2.jpeg227400Karen Karabellhttps://cyclingsavvy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/CS-logo_xlong-header.pngKaren Karabell2018-01-10 11:30:402023-02-27 12:40:56Everyone’s A Racer Now
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.”