Death is Our Biking Buddy in Phoenix
As of yesterday, I've been hit by cars riding my bike in Phoenix three times. And over my 6 decades of cycling I've been harassed by aggressive dipshit drivers too many times to count.
So I offer this cautionary tale.
I design buildings in service to law enforcement and the forensic sciences. So I spend a lot of time in evidence rooms. And, as part of a project I was working on many years ago, I toured the Phoenix Police Department Property and Evidence warehouse.
Now each property and evidence facility I visit is filled with the remnants of evil. All the fragments have a story; mostly tragic. I've seen whole rooms filled with the evidence from a single case. Whether it is remains from the Wah Mee massacre in Seattle or the Chandra Levy (Rock Creek Park) murder in DC, evidence from serious crimes is destined to be stored forever in those repositories.
Anyway, here in Phoenix, I was impressed how orderly and organized the evidence staff stored thier bikes. Hundreds of bikes hanging neatly on hooks in tall racks.
This was in stark contrast to most police departments, where bikes just pile up outside in a chain mesh cage until the next auction.
So I complimented the evidence staff.
Then reality hit. I was told said "oh those aren't found property bikes". The found property bikes were indeed outside in a massive chain link enclosure awaiting auction.
The hundreds of hanging bikes I saw hanging so neatly were evidence.
A cyclist was either killed or catastrophically injured on every one of those hanging bikes. Injuries administered by a human in a car.
After that day I realized how lucky I have been in my rides and I began to limit my rides to single track trails in the North Phoenix preserve, the Murphy Bridle Path (which I now know can also be dangerous) and the canals. What roads I do ride are those with designated bike lanes. And, thankfully, Phoenix has been implementing "road diets" to create new bike lanes all over he city. They've also added in-pavement bike traffic signal actuators and a bunch of "bikes own this lane" signage (which most Phoenix driver's simply ignore).
It all comes back to automobile drivers. It is kind of the same analogy as gun nuts offer for possessing lots of guns. It ain't the guns that kill, its the creep using them. Similarly, its not the car that kills, its the crap driver operating the car.
The first driver to hit me maintained eye contact with me continuously as he pulled away from a stop sign at the Arizona Biltmore's Adobe Grille and simply drove into me. Drunk, of course, he was confused by the thump he heard, oblivious that he'd just hit a human on a bike.
Luckily, I was ok.
The next event was on the bridle path when a driver in his sleek new white Benz saw an opening in traffic and suddenly turned from Central Avenue across the Bridle Path without a concern for humans on the path. He didn't realize (or care?) that his recklessness sent two joggers diving into the ditch and me over my handlebars. He just waited for his electric garage door opener to close securing his prize wheels. This time I climbed out of the ditch, found all my scattered belongings, collected my bike, dusted myself off and paid him a visit. He opened his front with a beer in hand and mumbled an "oh sorry" before slamming the door.
Another time, also on the bridle path, a car full of polo shirt clad prep school boys aimed their car at me and hit the gas to scare the old guy on the bike in the crosswalk. They thought it was hilarious.
I was able to avoid their kill shot, but was able to string together a long list of obscenities that, until that very moment, I was unaware I owned.
Yesterday I was riding 30 miles on the canals. It is a ride I carefully composed to avoid street crossings. Yet, one crossing is at 54th street and Indian School in Scottsdale. Scottsdale has bizarre traffic signals defiantly designed to confuse everyone. So as I and about six other cyclists and pedestrians got the green and ventured into the crosswalk, the elderly driver at the curb waiting to make his "free" right, thought it was his turn to go and broadsided me.
Luckily, the commotion from cyclists and pedestrians screaming at him resulted in the grille of his Ford Fusion just nudging me about a foot. But, it shook me up and left me speechless. He was clearly shaken too apologizing over and over. Only after he'd left did I realize the back wheel on my new bike was all bent up. Shit.
Yet, if he'd hit one of the pedestrians, things would have been much worse.
So what does all this mean? Well, it means American drivers are too aggressive, too prone to rage, won't put down their phones and generally drive too fast. The bigger their tires, the stupider they get. Or, as a business owner friend in Coeur d'Alene Idaho once confided in me, "My check cashing policy is simple. I take checks from anyone that doesn't drive up in a truck with huge tires, roll bars and fog lights".
Sage advice.
By comparison, in all those narrow little roads I've ridden in Europe (where everyone also rides bikes), drivers always tend to be pretty thoughtful and courteous. Even in seemingly psycho Paris traffic, a cycle guide once advised at the massive Place de la Concorde, that we "show no fear! Just cross! Traffic always gives way to bikes".
In total disbelief my young kids and I ventured into that maelstrom of traffic, and a miracle happened; traffic flowed around us like water until we safely reached the Tuilleries on he other side.
So my message is this. If you ride a bike in the US (and you should), assume drivers all suck. US drivers just get less attentive every day.
And, if you find your self driving in Phoenix, and see an old guy on an orange e-bike giving you stink eye, it's me!
Please, share the road.
Roadboy's Travels © 2021
