This Is Why No One F*cking Bikes: Take One

Every time I tell or show people that my main mode of transportation, rain or shine, is a bicycle, people give me some kind of "damn" or "wow" type reaction.

It's like an accomplishment to be a commuting bicyclist. I don't think it should be, particularly, when roads are flat and the weather here in Southern California is almost always ideal, and the city of Long Beach isn't that large (unless you're traveling from North to CSULB or something).

Yet all the concessions made for cars with little for bikes has made biking Long Beach and LA an accomplishment.

I think it's obvious as to why lots of people don't bike in LA:  it's dangerous.

But what does "dangerous" mean, and what does that look like while on a bike?

I can immediately think of narrow bike lanes, the fact that cars moving anywhere from 40-50 mph on LA streets are usually inches within bicyclists, even on streets with "sharrows" or "bike lanes."

For me, "dangerous" while on a bike means I have to think too much about every move I make.

I have to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure some speeding right-lane driver with little concern for my left shoulder doesn't skin me or take my left arm with him.  When I'm on Cahuenga Boulevard en route to Universal Studios, I know I have to pedal quicker and harder if I feel the drivers behind me are pressuring me to go faster or get out of what they think is their god-given birthright to the road. 

In contrast, when I drive, there isn't too much thought about every move I make.  Virtually every street is open to me.  Most drivers (erroneously) think the road belongs to them.

Bicycles have a right to the road.  It is the goddamn mot$#$@#$@ law.

I've said this for a while now, and I'll say it till I'm blue in the face.

But the hard reality is I know that if I bike on Pacific Coast Highway in Long Beach, a street which leads into bike lanes to Cal State Long Beach and below, drivers are still going to tailgate and pressure, and honk at me to get off the road.

Most drivers do not know or probably even care about this, that is until something tragic happens --- usually incidents that happen in silence, least if you don't keep up with this blog.

One Thursday afternoon, I decided to bike from school at Cal State Long Beach to my parents' home in the Valley. I decided to take pictures of all the things that made it tough to bike.



And it began with...

1) Bad to non-existent bike parking.



I began my morning early looking to stop for some food at my local drug store, only to barely find parking for my bike.

Yes, there was a bike rack where I could only lock up one bike wheel. As you can see above, my U-lock, can only wrap around one wheel - I usually use the U-lock to wrap both a wheel and the bike frame. Not going to going to cut it when biking is my main mode of transportation or just in general.

Though the mini-mall in which this Rite Aid was located could proudly say they had one bike rack, it also loses points because shoppers couldn't see whether part of their transportation investment is about to be taken.



I ended up having to use one of those cement poles that my u-lock barely fit around.

2) Holy goddamn narrow ass lanes




The above photos, probably everyone's worst fear when first getting on a bike: facing pressure from drivers:

  • When drivers expecting to go 40 mph are breathing on you and honk at you for going too slow
  • When drivers expecting to go 40 mph overtake you to assert that you don't belong on the road
  • Drivers expecting to take up the full right lane with you just inches away;  it doesn't pay at all to "be nice" on the road as a bicyclist, you have to take the FULL lane 

My mom and my sister, newly minted bicyclists...not happening, unless in a big group.

The above photos taken in North Long Beach and the city of Vernon, where you ride side by side with big rigs.

3) Easy to get lost

Tell me if you can see anything distinctive in this photo.


Nothing?

Anything?

Bueller?

I ride what is known as the flood channel or the Bike Path from Compton at Del Amo ave to its end in Vernon.

The Bike Path is a bit like a biking freeway. You have two lanes going in either direction, and you must know your exit.

Way back when, the first time I ever rode this "biking freeway", I was actually lucky to be with someone who knew a little something about biking (and that she had a blackberry).

The above is supposed to be the part of the "biking freeway" where the rest of the route goes into San Gabriel, which is not really where you want to go if you want to go towards LA.  You have to exit the "biking freeway", make a left on a narrow sidewalk/bridge, and re-enter the bike path.

Compare this to freeway signage;  my friend Daniel put it best, "they want you to find these things."  Unfortunately it doesn't appear that way when riding the Los Angeles River Bike path.

4) Merging anyone?  Bike lanes that lead into nothing but traffic.


As I was riding through Universal City, I was trying to ride Lankershim Boulevard.  Behind me a rush of traffic.  However, I had to cut through 2 lanes with automobile traffic rushing behind me at 40 MPH in the dark.  It took me a good 2-3 minutes before traffic cleared up for me to merge over to my desired lane.

More tours, more photos, coming, when I have time.

Let's make biking less of an accomplishment, shall we.

Androgynous Ninja Kid and His/Her Complicated Sense of Fun

It was a Friday afternoon.  Once again, Chase St. Park, the sandpit gymnastics area. 

I'd been wanting to see if I could still climb the slanted posts of the gymnastics set.  There are four of these posts slanted at a 30 degree angle, holding up 2 chin-up bars and 2 gymnastics rings.  At the apex point of these posts is the intersection of the pole and the top of the crossbar which holds up the rings --- this is about 17-20 feet off the ground.  If someone reaches that apex, its shows to me and probably lots of onlookers how built their bodies are for the challenges of medieval warfare.  They'd be scary to mess with.  It usually takes me anywhere from 15-40 seconds to make my way towards the apex.

At the peak of my arms training just months ago, I was able to reach the respective apexes of those 4 posts 1 time each and an additional 2 times.  My arms were clearly still ready for war, or a dual with Juan Manuel Marquez (least I'd a done better than the latest version of Pac)

First time I did it on this Friday afternoon, it was a struggle, but was happy that after a 4-month layoff of any intentional arm-building activity, I could still make my way up.

I'd just finished my 3rd climbing.  Legs curled up on the posts.  Perhaps pulling too tightly.  One pull after another.  Right arm - pull up.  Left arm - pull up.  Right arm - pull up.  With increasing intensity and stress on arms and shoulders ---  a struggle, but I touched the apex point and made my climb and jump down.

This pulling up takes a lot out of me. I sit outside of the sandpit to the periphery.

At the corner of my eye, a little shaggy curly haired half white/Asian boy or girl in sweatpants about 5 feet 2 and a hooded sweater is circling around the block on his/her mountain bike.  I can't quite see because I don't have any glasses.  It appears that s/he wants to use the gymnastics set.

Sure enough, s/he does.

S/he circles the parking lot one last time.  S/he sets his bike down at the opposite corner of the sandpit and it looks like he's headed for the slanted post facing him.  S/he approaches it very lightly, quietly, only s/he's not going to use his/her arms.  I know exactly what's coming and suddenly have all the confidence in the world that s/he's going to climb it super-efficiently.

After an initial slip, s/he steps on the slanted posts as if to walk on them while pulling him/herself up.  S/he takes the opposite position as me, where I'm on the other side of the post pulling myself up only by my arms.  Within 15 seconds, s/he is a top the apex, both feet on the post. 

S/he grabs the crossbar.  S/he reaches for the chain holding up one of the gymnastics rings.  S/he grabs hold of it and swings to the other chain holding the other ring.  S/he grabs the other chain.  S/he gently makes his/her way down the chain onto the rings.  S/he puts both feet on top of the rings before sliding his/her small efficient thighs into the rings.  S/he rocks back and forth as if it these gymnastics rings were his/her personal swing. 

Within 2 minutes, s/he's got a deep swing going. To make things interesting, s/he slackens her hold on the rings by leaving just his/her hamstrings in between the rings.  S/he swings back and forth for about a minute or two before he pulls him/hersself back up.  S/he grabs the chains. She takes his/her feet out.  She stands on the rings again, drops his/her hands on the rings for him/her to grab and finally jumps down.

24-Hour Thinking Spaces and the Lack Thereof in LA

Once upon a time, I spent 72 hours straight at a school library that had been open around-the-clock.  It was only open around-the-clock because it was finals week.

I was writing around 30 pages on a topic that I really liked.  I decided that if I'd gone home, I would never get anything done.  The only logical thing to do was to put in 72 hours straight at a library.

It wasn't 72 hours focused just on studying.  There was lots of going to the restroom, moments of chowing down on apples, oranges, and carne asada.  Lots of politics with who deserved the opportunity to plug their computers into the limited number of power outlets.  Additionally, I learned to adapt new ways of sleeping:  legs up and squished into a square shaped couch.  Back down on a revolving couch.
 
I was not the only one who spent that much time at the library.  Lots of students had moved in:   air mattresses, bedding, toiletries, coffee makers --- all at the 24-hour library.

It was some of the most productive time I'd had all semester, those 72 hours at the library.  Lots of time to read, write, ruminate.  Emphasis on rumination.

On the computer, I might've done lots of cycling through Facebook, literatures from the community college, math classrooms, college math classrooms, adult students, gmail, realgm, but I was able to pull it off and contribute my part to society, albeit indirectly.

I love 24-hour libraries.  I love 24-hour spaces. 

If they existed.

What I loved was just having time and space to think.

I'd always talked about there being a need for a free public space at night for people.  Emphasis "free" and "public space."  "People" meaning "poor people."  Poor people like me who don't give a flying eff about being at the bar/club.  People who would rather be reading and doing geeky things that didn't require consumption, except that of knowledge.  The meaning of the free and the public space is partly about helping to foster a community as well as just giving us spaces to do something other than party.

I made a stink about having CicLAvia at night time, mostly because I motherfuckin' hate how the night world in LA/LB is so dominated by shady, impersonal, private space of the club and bar scene, all of which demand you fork over some of your economic capital to be in proximity with tons of motherfuckers you won't give a shit about.  I don't like how we like to be all bullshittily sunshiny only during the day time, but become all shady and disconnected when the cold is has got its arm around your neck, the gelled hair and popped collared douches are occupying certain streets, while avoiding others.  My call is just for a call for a space where you don't have to be social, but where you're allowed to think.

I know that in China they've got CyberCafes full of gamers, sleeping and paying rent there.  I wonder why they don't have at the very least something like that here.


All over Los Angeles, I've been hardpressed to find anything that was open 24-hours.  Yes, there's Hodori, but that's mainly a restaurant.  Denny's is for after the club.  Donut shops have too little room.

A cafe is OK to a point, and I only know LA Cafe at that, but haven't actually done anything there.

A thread on Yelp confirms that 24-hour spaces are difficult to come by in LA.  Someone in the thread mentioned that perhaps the 24-hour spot could be made viable in a city, town with lots of students.

I'm just looking for a place to do "thinking" because we just don't have it.  

We need more of that.  Thinking and 24-hour places in which to do it.

Long Beach, from a Lifetime Los Angeleno

They have their own MacArthur Park, a first through 59th street, a Spring Street, a Temple Street.

In the many conversations that I eavesdropped and participated in thru grad school, whenever people would reference one of those landmarks, I would automatically think of the LA referent with the name.

But nope, they never referred to LA.  Ever.

They were always talking about Long Beach.  Referring to things in Long Beach, wearing CSULB sweaters, Long Beach certified shirts, and the ever-popular baseball cap with an LB initials on it, as if it was the only city and school for miles around.  It was like its own universe, almost if not completely detached from its ultra-popular, wieldy, worldly, sprawling cousin to the north.  I can honestly say that I'd never seen any of that decal or clothing in and around LA, and I've been through and around many parts of LA.

Growing up, Long Beach was at least an hour away from my parents' abode in Central Los Angeles.  We took all kinds of freeways to get there, hell if I knew.  I just knew that Long Beach was where they had the Queen Mary...and...it had...the Queen Mary.  That's the only time I remember ever venturing there.  I was 9 years old, and Long Beach was about as far as Disneyland.

In high school, Long Beach meant Long Beach Poly, main rival school in football.  It was/is a multi-cultural huge public school, a stark contrast to the all-boys, private Catholic school Loyola High School that I went to.  Long Beach to me was also the home of Snoop Dogg and Warren G, Doveshack's Summertime in the LBC, and the Twinz who got the sound to make you go round and round

When I found all kinds of random friends in college, that is the UC-Santa Cruz part of college, Long Beach was just "chill."

Harlan and Desiree are the random friends in question.  Harlan and I golfed, beached, and played some random pick-up basketball at his alma mater, the non-Long Beach Poly school down the way, Wilson High School.  Wocka Flocka Flame would be very afraid of just how hard we went into the paint.  Harlan said that the best part of Long Beach was his ability to get out of the city right away.  He now lives somewhere in the Bay Area.

Desiree invited me to b-boying/breakdancing events, which included a set of tight-pants wearing killer breakers pulling off some deadly twists to a cover of Sublime's Santeria.  Breakers tend to raise one arm, palms down and shake it a bit after every cool move they see another breaker does.  Saw lots of that, and eventually incorporated that hand movement into my habitus for at least one summer.   

For a quick second, Long Beach was also home to what used to be a store-turned record label called Beatrock Music.  Watched the Native Guns, my favorite progressive Filipino rappers (along with Prometheus Brown) "re-unite."



Long Beach also kinda gave me the start to my career and room to my interests.

When I did Americorps, I spent part of my time in North Long Beach at a housing development they call Carmelitos.  Didn't seem so bad during the day, but my co-Americorpsers said, "it's different during the night time."  I didn't stay there, so their comments never really registered.  To me the developments looked just like college dorms.  My most memorable moment there was a Thanksgiving Celebration put on by staff members.  The episode could be summed up in two words: "Soula boy" and if you want to add two more "Soula boy told em."  Incidentally, it was at Carmelitos that I met an inspiration to pursue Anthropology at Long Beach, one Sarah Cote.

When I was with an ex-partner around December 2009, we led a bike count through a gloomy rainy day at the PCH and Anaheim stops off the Metro Blue Line.  Additionally, as a then-7-year veteran of the car-driving wars in LA, that was the first time I discovered I could actually take the Metro all the way to Long Beach.

When we put bike to gravel, I discovered something else:  Long Beach was kind of scary to bike thru, particularly PCH.  It had nothing to do with Gangstas, gangsta rap, or being afraid of getting jacked.  It had everything to do with crossing the Metro Blue Line tracks, to the 3-lane streets full of traffic, to cracked roads. None of the streets we surveyed seemed the least bit "bikeable" or "bike friendly."  And if it was, it seemed to be due to the fact that we were riding in groups of at least 8 people.

After one of the counts, she checked Yelp via her blackberry for places to eat.  A Thai-Cambodian place called Siem Reap.  Karaoke playing in the background, and the Thai-ness was really clear.  It was just another place for me to eat.

So...

Before grad school happened in 2010, Long Beach was Queen Mary, Poly High School, Sublime, Snoop Dogg & Warren G, and a town that needed to improve its bikeways.

August 2010.  My arrival at Cal State Long Beach. Which meant, a looot more Long Beach.

I'm in my 2nd year now, and I'm living temporarily in Lakewood, the city Desiree technically came from, which butts up against Long Beach.  I've accumulated a bit of a love for the LBC.
  • Home to tons of our Southeast Asian homies - Cambodians. 
  • People in the nonprofit circles actually know each other and there seems to be an infrastructure of folks already working together; 
  • Impressed that they had a bunch of youth programs at their Parks & Rec, specifically Homeland Cultural Center
  • People seem to work efficiently there;  at a neighborhood clean-up in MacArthur Park, due to budgetary constraints, we had only 2 hours to do "something."  With a gang of volunteers numbering about 50-60 on a Saturday morning, the something we did was clean up some alley-ways.
  • Kinda easy to get involved in whatever nonprofit work you want to do
  • Everything is scaled down to some sense of manageability - everything in LA is just big and unwieldy
  • Little to trace amount of "hipsters"
If I could define my time here, this my 2nd year in and around Long Beach, it's revolved around commuting and Cambodians.

For my first year, I would commute from LA via a Metro student pass and would bike from the stop at PCH to Cal State Long Beach.  This was the same PCH that I found quite frightening.  I still look behind me to make sure some impatient driver isn't going to let rage consume him/her.  The most frightening street however is Lakewood Blvd/CA-19, includes a tunnel and about 4 lanes, which means blind and fast drivers.  I thought it would be a shortcut to my place, and technically it is, but the pervading culture of vehicle promises that it won't be.

On Mondays in my first year, I'd bike and sleep over at my Godsis (G-sis) and her partner, Cy's condo in Downtown LB.  A cacophany of crazies there.  From the random yelling of a next-door neighbor about how he "could not eat his hambugers", to the next-door lady whom Cy yelled at but expressed so much love for bikes, to a muted black guy who took care of the property, I felt I had enough credibility to say that I was sometimes "in the hood."

I also got my bike jacked, which according to Cy is a bit of a Long Beach tradition. 

While at school, I'd learned very quickly that one of my profs was very interested in Long Beach and Cambodians.  One conversation I had early on with her was about the lived experience of the LA Riots in Long Beach in 1992.  Indeed, the snippet of a police report in the Sublime song April 26, 1992 was referring to a place in Long Beach instead of LA.  Anaheim Street in the heart of what is now known as Cambodia Town.



She was talking about how she was living at the epicenter of the riots, which meant looting, and how she tried to dissuade a bunch of Cambodian men from participating in the mayhem.  A substantial amount of damage occurred in Long Beach totalling $20 million.

Since that conversation, I've enjoyed a grip that LB has had to offer. I've had the opportunity to tour my Cambodian grandparents.  Drive a cyclo or as the French call it a cyclo-pousse.  Played a bunch of sey with my cohort member Adam, a game similar to hackey sack but much easier with a feathery contraption.  Went to Dragon House and do all kinds of line dancing and hand movements.  Attend a Theraveda Buddhist temple during Cambodian day of the Dead.  Get involved with a community garden.  Listen to the stories of Khmer Rouge survivors at King's Park in the LBC.

More on that later.

Metro Stories: A Woman Is Not Supposed to Smell Like That

Sunday afternoon of my sister's 23rd birthday.  Piled a bunch of stuff from my parents house, mostly clothes, and about five potatoes.  Carrying two bags. On to my 2nd home in Lakewood.

Blue Line. A little before the Florence stop in South Los Angeles.

Sitting in one of the last few cars of the train in the back seats normally reserved for seniors and the handicapped.  My aqua-blue Nishiki is posted up upside down here against the conductor's door with my two bags pinned up against the frame.

Usually I'm hesitant to put my bookbags down and away from me to restrain the bike; I don't want anyone stealing my stuff!  However, thanks to all my cargo, my bookbags are really heavy and unless in dire straits, I doubt anyone would want to bother hauling a bunch of clothes and potatoes.

There are two other bikers with me here, though they are left standing up.  Across from me and blocking the right door is some middle-aged white guy with long hair and his helmet still on.  Adjacent to me, a tall black guy with a mountain bike and a wiggly, barely-serviceable-looking seat.

I'd been in the train a good 20 minutes.  Sitting to my left was a little kid with turtles, her mom, a friend and another daughter/cousin.

The friend was sorta friendly with me;  she actually smiled back and attempted to engage me in conversation.  She asked me about my bike.  She asked me where I got my "We [Immigrant family running] LA" sticker on my helmet. I noticed that she had a bunch of tattoos in Chinese characters.  Out loud, she was talking about tea and how certain cultures based their diets around it.  I was wondering if she had an Asian fetish;  maybe this was the reason she was talking to me.

I spent most of the time listening to my Colloquial Cambodian by David Smyth.

Once we stopped at Florence, the tall black guy pushed his beat-up mountain bike backwards to allow people to either get off or board the train.  In entered, an over-sized woman in sweatpants, a familiar face. 

"Excuse me, I need to move my bike in," the tall black guy said to this woman.

"Ewww," the tall black man covered his nose.  "You smell, please go that way."

I sniffed the air, my nose in search of that pooh poohy smell that I'd come to associate with this woman.

This woman I'd known from my earlier travels on the Blue Line.  She would usually walk in and attempt to sell pens for $1.  Judging by the way she approached people with little tact and wide eyes when called upon, I figured that she was not mentally all together.

A woman from about 10 feet away from me behind the mother of the child sitting next to me said, "I will take you home with me and offer you a shower."

The poo poohy woman made her way up the aisle and away from me. 

The rest of the train passengers cringed and covered up their noses as she made her way down the train.  A general sigh and grunt hovered the atmosphere.  I laughed at their reactions. 

For some reason, I didn't smell her at all, as much I searched for it.  I knew she usually smelled.  All I smelled were tires.

The woman 10 feet away from me kept talking, "I know what it's like to be homeless, I was homeless for 5 years, but I always washed my ass.  A woman is not supposed to smell like that!"

About 2 minutes later, the poo poohy woman was peaking out coming our direction again.

The tall black guy said, "no, you stay over there!"

The woman 10 feet away from me offered again, "I will take you home with me, and you can shower.  I'll even feed you."

"I heard you the first time", said the poo poohey woman.  "I took a bath."

"What like last month", said the tall black guy.

"So you're not going to take my offer?" said the woman 10 feet away from me.

The poo pooey woman walked off.

"I was homeless for 5 years, I know what it's like, but I made sure to wash my ass.  You can go to the shelters here and they'll let you do that.  If you can't do that, something is not right with you," said the woman 10 feet away from me.

My laugh morphed into a brood.

Rebuffing Idiots Who Are Justifying the Recklessness of a Person Driving a Car

This is just too much.

Just recently, I saw this harrowing video of a car speeding through a row of people on bikes at 35 mph. Yes, "through" a row of people on bikes.



This happened in late February in Porto Alegre. It happened during a Critical Mass event. Thankfully, no one was killed, though 12 were injured. That's one of the worst nightmares of someone riding a bike can experience.

Like most people I was stunned seeing that. Driving through a crowd of people is just not something people in the sane mindset do.

However, you wouldn't know that reading comments from the Huffington Post or heh heh, Youtube. You'd think that this was all justified. You'd think that the people on bikes were to be blamed.

The "suspect"/guy who mowed them down is Ricardo Jose Neis, a central banker. He is currently awaiting trial. He is a central banker with a history of violence: one for attacking his ex-partner, driving on the sidewalk, and driving the wrong way down a street and speeding. (In Portugues).

But no, let's not let any of these facts confuse any initial gut reactions from the viewing (largely American, car-centric) internet public.

Some comments from the most viewed video from the Associated Press.

(Youtubers had so many negative comments directed toward people in bikes in general that I had to divide them into categories.)

There were plenty of commenters who gave us some free lessons about driving psychology.
  • I can see this happening; not saying it was right. My family and I were stuck in Los Angeles downtown traffic for hours because of these bicycle numbnuts. They press their agenda by stopping traffic and clogging up transportation. Sorry, but this is an automobile culture and not all of us want to get hemmorhoids riding bikes. Cars were overheating, tempers were flaring, we and all motorists were stuck, businesses lost commerce. So, I give a big applause to the guy that mowed down these shits. - bordersushi
  • that will teach them to get a FUCKING car - pArR0otT
  • Hey when you block and clog the road, you are gonna piss people off. Brilliant protest people. Was it worth all those lives? - neonguy528
Some people even gave us comment-readers ill-researched lessons about traffic laws.
  • streets are made for cars. - sebaleon
  • I hate it when they don't stay in the bike lane - mshay1020
  • Roadways are not just for cars but all vehicles using the road are required to follow the rules of the road. In this case, if you are traveling well below the posted speed limit, keep to the far right. Critical mass riders intentionally block the road. - ABQ-Mike
For some commenters, the cyclists that were run over, represented cartoon-like, inanimate objects to be laughed at, "video game targets," as opposed to individuals to be concerned about.
  • Jesus, he must have gotten over 150 hit points just on that one street! new Record! - ScSSwav
  • Car: 1, Horde of protesting cyclists: -12 - kraigrust
  • Shit driver. He missed far more than he hit. - SozzledTerror
  • thats what helmets are for. - wrathchild356
Feeling like a video game target while on a bike was a meme I first heard on this blog. Generally, that's not a good feeling, because as a target, sooner or later you're going to get hit.

Finally, some people even said that what they saw on video was the enaction of a personal fantasy. It represented a cathartic release of emotion against what they perceive to be as symbols of obstruction.
  • I don't know about anyone else but i applaud the driver. If you're not gonna do the speed limit the either get out of the way or meet the grill of my car...-thedeityofthemind93
  • I love how they try running after the car.. stupid cyclists. Also, as no one was killed, I laugh openly, with the knowledge i'm not going to hell. - jettyt
  • I have fantasized about this many a night. - NycBlackout
  • You wouldn't believe how tempted I have been to do that lol. Fair play to the guy, he has a fair size pair of balls for doing that! -
    imperial109
The pervasiveness of these comments that remind me of how disengaged the general American populace is from bicycling.

I know that not all those comments are serious and that maybe put at the ground level, they might change some of their views, but it doesn't help that this public viewing it is carrying, expressing, and daring even more to express this sense of entitlement on the road.

I got a sense of humor, but given that car accidents account for 2% of deaths in America and the 6th leading cause of preventable death in America, that this self-entitled road rage is real and isn't likely to cease, that I or any other bicyclists in a pack could be subject to such whims is really frightening.

It's nice that we passed the Anti-Bicyclist Harrassment Ordinance for the city of Los Angeles, but people who drive cars in LA barely know the motherfucking traffic laws that have been in place since 1971. A chunk of them will probably still honk, yell, and generally make my experience horrible, especially in areas around LA County not under the jurisdiction of LA city.

Here are the good old, now in it's mid-life crisis, traffic laws, as spelled out by a lawyer, per California, via this blog:

The California Vehicle Code tackles the topic in Section 21202—Position in Traffic. It reads as follows:

(a) Any person operating a bicycle upon a roadway at a speed less than the normal speed of traffic moving in the same direction at that time shall ride as close as practicable to the right-hand curb or edge of the roadway except under any of the following situations:

  1. When overtaking and passing another bicycle or vehicle proceeding in the same direction.
  2. When preparing for a left turn at an intersection or into a private road or driveway.
  3. When reasonably necessary to avoid conditions (including, but not limited to, fixed or moving objects, vehicles, bicycles, pedestrians, animals, surface hazards, or substandard width lanes) that make it unsafe to continue along the right-hand curb or edge, subject to the provisions of Section 21656. For purposes of this section, a “substandard width lane” is a lane that is too narrow for a bicycle and a vehicle to travel safely side by side within the lane.
  4. When approaching a place where a right turn is authorized.
The key part is #3. Stay to the right, unless you come across a street that is really narrow and unsafe. It's very subjective what counts as "narrow" and "unsafe", but in that case I would take the entire lane.

On my bicycle, I don't want to take one lane, but sometimes it's the safest way to ride the street. I'm in my 3rd year of bicycling, and I'm still always looking over my shoulder. If you're a new bicyclist reading this, yes it's tiresome and quite the hassle, but it's the best way to ensure that I get home in one piece.

For those familiar with San Fernando valley geography, I occupy one lane all the time on Nordhoff St. on the way to CSUN. Nordhoff Street is a 3-lane practice raceway moonlighting as a city street designed to promote access to racing and road rage to ordinary car-driving Americans.

Solutions?

Before I delve into that, here are some insightful and funny rebuffs against common memes.

Against the idea that "bikes cause and hold up traffic"
Cars cause 100,000 times more road obstructions than bicycles do. Traffic jams. Think about it. Is it ok for me to bike through a traffic jam with a baseball bat smashing peoples' windows and skulls because their car is moving more slowly along the road than I would like it to? - libertarian83

Against the idea that people on bikes "don't follow the rules" and "therefore deserve to be hit"

You don't ever see cyclists following the rules because you DON'T WANT to see it. - Jolimont

Using the logic of some of the people posting here [on Huffington Post article]. If there are a number of cars blocking the street, maybe for a reason such as they are trying to get home, a bulldozer should be able to plow its way through the crowd of cars blocking the way. Go bulldozers. Those damn cars block streets all the frigging time. - tomasmundo
Up until I saw this video, I always thought riding in a pack of bicyclists was safe.

But clearly, this video mixed with all these comments shows that a lot of people driving have itchy feet, especially when you make them really mad. Even without knowing who he is, most people used their experience as drivers to make snarky comments. This guy, Neis, was a symbol, a "vehicle" for them to re-enact their violent impulse wishes. The kind of impulse that is driven by a deeply embedded cultural expectation to speed, combined with the fact that there's little time to formulate any reasonable, rational mode of thought while in transit.

I think the same two solutions that I'll post over and over:

1) To foster a culture of biking in Los Angeles. Get the perspectives of those populations with the least mobility on the road and find creative ways to adapt conditions to those perspectives. "Those with the least mobility" being kids, women, families, and seniors. "Least mobility" being that for cultural, social, or physical reasons, they are restricted from moving as freely as a young dude like me.

I mention this only because on a road bike I'm likely to bike anywhere including the city of Vernon, Maywood, and whatever car-centric industrial areas exist. Conversely, I can't see many moms on cruiser bikes with little toddler Timmi in one of those protective carts doing the same as I do. It's possible, but I doubt there will be group rides of commuting moms getting over railroad tracks and narrow streets in attempt to get to and fro home. It'd be nice if that were the reality some day, it'd be nice if biking was made available to that demographic.

What this translates to is continued advocacy for bike lanes, bike rides, bike signs, but with more outreach focused on getting these highlighted networks of demographics integrated into biking, that the activity branches out and does become not just a popular, but a desirable form of regular transportation.

2) To settle the conflict between bikes and cars: Get people in cars to expect people on bikes on the road. If you get people to expect people on bikes, then you buffer against this entitlement to speed that some people who drive cars seem to have of the roads.

I mean when there's a street shut down for a street fair, it's not like these [sane] people will drive through ferris wheels, cotton candy booths, and crowds of people. They "expect" to drive somewhere else.

In the case, Neis likely "expected" to pass through these bicyclists. And when his expectation hadn't been sufficiently met, he decided to that it was logical to go ahead and murder people.

We, as in people on bikes or anyone else who cares, need to make this expectation of bikes unmistakably clear with lots of signs.

I really like that some buses have a variation of this message on their cabooses:



The sign is very clear: [People/fish riding] Bicycles have the right to use a full lane. State [motherfuckin']Law!

I need to make a sign with this on my back.

Having just buses with this sign is good, but not good enough.

I'd rather we see this or some kind of sign at every stoplight or intersection. At the very least, those dangerous intersections where cars have tended to dominate.

I was just wondering if there was a way to get more of these signs as a part of the actual stationary infrastructure.

To any bicycle advocates reading this, I know that you're all trying to play a game of politics, you're doing your best to get bike lanes, things take time, and the city of LA is "broke."

As someone who's driven a car for 9 years in LA, I barely noticed any of the incumbent "Bike Route" signs. Those things sucked. If I was still a driver only, unless the street was painted a different color, I don't know that I would've noticed "sharrows" all that much if they weren't specifically pointed out to me.

"Bike Route" signs were just a curiosity to me, I really had no idea what they meant. Now that I know what they mean (basically that it's an ideal route for bikes to take), I see and ride those Bike Route signs on Woodman Ave. in the valley and Pacific Coast Highway in Long Beach. There are partial, piecemeal bike lanes. My experience on those streets: people in cars still drive those streets with a sense of indignation, if you dare take any part of the lane.

At any rate, be it by guerilla DIY means and/or by some private fund, I think in the short and long-term, the most important things are visibility and awareness of bikes and the people on them. The clearness of the message creates this expectation that there will be people on bikes, and that it is a legit if not equal way of using the street.

What's Up Could Mean a Lot of Things

Playing basketball down at the court on San Fernando Rd. and Macon in Glassell Park with my friend Brian.

Hot-ass day.

Friend named Gary comes later and helps us on to victory against a taller team, a game we weren't supposed to win because not one of us was taller than 5'9 and the other team had all the size and skills. The next game we drop, because I'm tired and it's a sweltering, smoking barbecued-up 95 degrees.

We lost, so we sit on the benches. Ever the social dude, Brian and I start talking about how I'm going back to school later this month and about Brian's undergraduate aspirations.

Gary, a dude who's quick to smile, comes down from a water break and sits with us.

Brian says to Gary, "why didn't you come out last time, I texted you!"

Gary, "Fool, I never got anything, you can check my texts."

Brian remains resilient, "Nah man, I texted you."

Somehow we all start talking about running marathons. Brian talks about missing the registration date for the Disney half-marathon; Gary slaps the bench upon hearing that he's missed the date. Brian tells us about his experience running LA and redeeming himself for 2008. He completed the LA Marathon last year, but he feels the need to redeem himself for what happened in 2008. Let's just say that there were a grand total of 2 or 3 people booing at what he did. Booooooooo!!!!

After this good catch-up, Brian says jokingly to Gary, "I almost didn't invite you last time. Remember when you thought I was gonna do a drive-by on you or something."

LOLwuttf? I was thinking.

"Yeah man, it was 9 or 10 o clock at night!" said Gary in a "Who does that?!" kind of tone.

"But I just said What's up?"

I was imagining the usually quick-to-smile, laid-back Gary getting tense at the shoulders with both hands on the wheel.

"Man, What's up could mean a lotta things. It could what's up, where you FROM? What's up can I have some loose change?

"But I have the gayest voice ever..."

"Doesn't matter, I was getting ready for anything..."