For as long as I’ve been Cycling the streets of Cambridge, the east end of Cambridge Street has had two perfectly serviceable bike lanes .. but with one conspicuously absent feature.

Where's the little man?

Or the 'cyclist diamond'?

I’m no expert, but I hear tell that unless these little icons are present in the lane, these lanes are not lawfully bike lanes, and cyclists using them are therefore not subject to the same protection that they would be in a true bike lane, or even a ’squeezeway’! The horror! To be bamboozled into thinking we’ve got the protection of the city when the lines mean nothing at all!  And this is a road where lanes like this are truly necessary – double-parking is at it’s worst here on Cambridge Street, meanwhile cars blast by at speed, trying to make it past the next yellow light. Aggressive driving is rampant, and motorists in this area are none too kind to the average cyclist – I’ve learned this the hard way.

Another thing I noticed was a significant lack of bicycle parking… and a suspicious coating around all the meters.

What and why?

This black plastic coating made it very difficult for me to use my ‘fun size’ Kryptonite U-lock. Is this thing here to help or hurt cyclists? For the love of Gond, what is it? There are scores of businesses on Cambridge Street that can, will and do benefit from the patronage of cyclists, but sadly this fact seems to have gone unnoticed.

Seriously? I need to escape this city. It’s been said that people in Boston are surly, snarky, misanthropic assholes, but I’ve never really had proof posi before. Don’t get me wrong – the other half are soulmate worthy, bff bliss cuddle munchkins that I can’t live without, but when half of the batch of apples is bad you get one hell of a blindness-inducing, colo-rectal cancer brewing batch of Applejack. I mean, people are apathetic everywhere; more likely to ignore someone with a problem than lend a hand; but Bostonians are the type of people to wish harm on a perfect stranger for no good reason. Ugh. So disappointed people, so disappointed.

Yesterday, not three hours after I’d received my response from Route 66 director John J. Houghton regarding the bus that nearly hit me on Monday, I was again waiting at a red light on Harvard Avenue to cross Cambridge Street. As the light for Cambridge Street became yellow I put my foot on my pedal, and made ready to move. As  I watched the light turn red, my body exhibiting the intent to scoot out into the intersection at a moment’s notice, I became aware of a growing roar from my left, west on Cambridge Street. And then a sharp honk. Route 66 Bus #2294 (or 2293, it was going over 30 MPH so it was difficult to catch the number) not only roared through the intersection against a red light, but gave me warning that it had ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF SLOWING OR STOPPING.

I realized after this that the MBTA deserves not just our disdain and our everlasting disappointment, but also our FEAR. The drivers of these buses are blatantly neglecting the safety of the citizens of the Boston area, and breaking the trust that we put in them to hold our lives in their hands every day, whether we are their passengers or merely sharing the roads with them.  I am disgusted by this neglectful behavior, having witnessed it daily for over a year on my route to work; having been hit by an MBTA bus while on my bicycle and then told by the driver that she was in no way required to provide me her information; having watched the green line proceed through intersections against car traffic that obviously had a green signal; having watched buses stop in the middle of the lane the entire length of their route to meet passengers, even though it is policy that they pull into each stop completely so traffic can get by.

I call for the bus driver who ran that red light yesterday at 5:10PM on Route 66, number 2294 or 2293, to be removed from service completely. To run a red light at speeds of 30 MPH and give warning shows premeditated disregard for traffic law, and a comfort with such acts that cannot be tolerated.

Remember when Kelly Wallace died at the intersection of Cambridge Street and Harvard Ave in May, 2007? Well, that almost happened to me just now, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who has almost gotten creamed at this intersection in the past 3 years. MBTA Bus number 0721 was stopped at the bottom of the hill, letting passengers off, during the green light for Cambridge Street. I was waiting at the light facing the entrance to Harvard Ave. Just after the change, the instant the light turned red for Cambridge and an instant before it turned green for Harvard, I was about to kick off; my left side was facing the bus stop, so I couldn’t even SEE the bus as it jammed on it’s gas and roared through the intersection; THROUGH the red light. The only thing that saved me from being underneath it was probably the extra weight in my panniers and on my body (lunch, breakfast, and three extra layers because it’s 13f out there today!) My slow start brought me only within a nose-brush of the side of Bus 0721. This is not an uncommon sight. Red light running through the Cambridge/Harvard Ave. intersection is the norm, rather than the exception.

Since I do see this every day, and someone has indeed died at this intersection in the last few years, I am anxious to have something done about this. The sooner the better, considering my still hammering heart after my own brush with death.

I will be adding a transcription of my calls to the MBTA and the BPD later on today, as I am in a marketing meeting at the moment.

UPDATE: Ooh, watch as I create an infinite blog loop… don’t get sucked in!

I called the MBTA, left all my information and my complaint. Here is my response:

We appreciate your business and value your feedback.  A customer service
issue was logged on 2010-01-29 at 15:05:13

A tracking number of 02117797 has been assigned to this call.  Please
reference this number on any additional communications you may have
regarding this issue.

The information you provided has been forwarded to the appropriate group.
If additional actions are required, a member from that department will
follow up on your issue.

Should you have additional questions or concerns regarding this issue,
please contact the Customer Support Services at 617-222-3200 or
800-392-6100, Monday through Friday ,6:30 AM to 8:00 PM and Sat/Sun from 7:30 AM to 6:00 PM.

Many thanks to folk at UHub for correcting my Harvard Ave/Street confusion – I work at the end where it’s called “Street”

Many middle fingers to the people who read the repost of my blog and wanted to make this a ‘bikers don’t follow the law’ issue. I was waiting at MY red light. I’m not going to rant about this now because frankly, it’s not worth it. A) you’re wrong, B) you’re a stool sample. End of story.

Just called the City of Boston transportation department, told them about my situation and this ongoing problem. This was their response:

“The city does not have any authority over the MBTA or it’s operations.”

INTERESTING.

In response to this post in Boston Biker.

“there’s nothing we can do about drivers not paying attention.”

from the follow-up article

People often ask me why I’m so hard on drivers, and why I am so ruthless on the road – quick to find fault, quick to use my schoolyard bellow and let people know what an ass they’re being. Frankly, this is why. We have no other power. I have been hit by an Audi, called the cops and had them tell me ’sorry, but there’s nothing we can do’. I’ve been hit by a bus and told, ‘this driver has worked for the MBTA for over 19 years, we are confident that she is a competent driver’. I have had a woman reach out her passenger side window and grab me by my helmet and SLAP me, AND I STILL DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT SHE WAS SO UPSET ABOUT. I wasn’t hurt in any of these instances, so apparently they are not offenses that matter to police or the general public. I ride safely, I wear my helmet and I obey the law insofar as I try to never inconvenience another person on the road, but I know that if I am hit, harassed, assaulted or verbally abused, I have no way to bring justice to the people that have abused me with their aggression, negligence and outright ignorance. I can do nothing at all to call attention to abusive, aggressive or negligent drivers unless I am injured, but alive. Even if I AM alive to tell the tale, there is no guarantee I will be able to catch the plate number of the vehicle if they speed off (as the Audi did, after the operator screamed, “I should run you off the road!”). We are riding naked, and there is no one on our side. This is why I have no mercy for the people that take the privilege of driving for granted – I have no other choice. Out there on the road, no other voice is speaking up for us.

In the crosswalk.  I threw my bagel and hit the car. Then I ate the bagel. Everyone who drives in Brookline is an assclown.

A reader sent in this fine example of how NOT to draw bicycle business to your ice cream shop. Lets just say that a certain ice cream shop in Brighton seems to have a problem with people on bikes spending money at their store…I seem to recall at least once in my ice cream eating journeys having to move one of these ugly little planters (one doesn’t even have a tree in for Pete’s sake) so I could park my bike up to the very nice bike racks…

The funny thing is, it looks like two people are still using the racks, and they look like kids bikes, the kind of kids that will spend money at an ice cream shop, perhaps if the planters were moves two or more kids could also park there and also spend money at the ice cream shop. Business owners in this town will fight tooth and nail to keep on street parking near their shops in the hopes of drawing in business, but often forget about the wallets that pedal in instead of drive.

I know it may not come across, but the truth is that my greatest fear on the road is not the other people.  I understand human nature, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that the next douchebag is going to act like a douchebag, much like the last douchebag. This is why I’m still alive (knock on titanium). What I fear the most is the great and unexpected Falmunction. The unpredictable structural discombobulation that can happen at any time but most often happens at the VERY WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT, and sends you spinning off into oblivion with no control and no way to save yourself.

This has happened to me a couple times in the past few months. Once while cresting the Harvard Ave. bridge – I was riding my chopper and the internal hub just… disintegrated. leaving me with no forward gears and no coaster brake. I had to Fred Flintstone myself to a stop to avoid coasting right into traffic on frantic Memorial Drive. The second time was just last week, when the gear cable on my Liesurenaught went kablooey right in the center of the intersection of Harvard and Cambridge (the site of another bicyclist’s death, ugh). Luckily I had learned from my last mistake, and my coaster brake and hand brake were in fine condition, so despite my lack of forward momentum I still had enough control to get myself to the curb.
When I read about the death of Tracy Milillo, particularly the statement,

“Capt. Michael Gropman said the vehicle may have never made contact with Milillo’s bike.”

I was struck by how many times I’ve hit the bricks… or the curb or whatever, without ever having been threatened by a motor vehicle. Just yesterday, on my way into work I was welcomed into Allston by this little gift, which instantly deflated my tire and sent me wobbling into the right hand lane of traffic.

1 1/2" wood screw. Screw You.

Good old Allston, always good for some road confetti.

How many times have people been chucked under the wheels of oncoming traffic because they installed new brake pads and forgot to loosen the calipers? How many cool kids on fixies with no brakes and no helmet (see: me last year and for 3 years prior) dropped a chain and then panicked, rolling right into oncoming traffic? And how would anyone know in the aftermath? How can you check a bike for ‘defects’ if it’s been rolled over by 2 tons of steel?

I used to foam at the mouth over drivers being let go without being charged after having been involved in cycling accidents, particularly when a cyclist is hurt.. but now I’m not so sure of myself. Particularly after my own recent experiences, which all happened, I might add, after I’d gotten my bike worked on by a local shop. Mishap due to pilot error is one thing – you can plan for that, you can mouse around and ride like Grandma taught you. But if your cable breaks, or your ball bearings go ‘KLONK!’ and seize up, or your brake pad shifts and rips out all your spokes… it’s the stuff of nightmares. Better wear your helmet.

Yesterday was a bad day to be a biker. For me, anyway. Sure, the weather was great. Sunny skies, zero humidity. Exhausted, hung over and sleep deprived. Crotchety. In the middle of the intersection at N. Harvard and Cambridge in Allston,  my gear line snaps. Yeah. So I get to coast between two huge rattling trucks  and various red light runners to the edge of the road. My cable had wrapped itself around my cranks multiple times. I work in Brookline. The 66 bus has no bike rack. FML. So walked it to work, and along the way I got to enjoy at length the smells I only get whiffs of on my daily trek through Allston. Many parts of Allston smell exactly like the plugs in my ears after a few months of neglect. Yum. Closer to Brookline, or maybe inside, there is the smell of salty, sizzling beef, and it makes my mouth water every time. What I really want to know about is one smell I only smell on my way home in the evening, somewhere between coolidge and commonwealth along Harvard. It’s pizza, but it’s the kind of pizza you go out of your way for – WAY out of your way. I’ve never been able to pinpoint where the smell is coming from.

Anyway, I was able to  re-rig my slinkiefied shifter cable, after much sweating and swearing. I had to make up my lost time at work, however, so I hit the worst of the evening traffic on my way home.  I have no words, or rather, far too many words for the extreme douchebaggery I witnessed on the road yesterday. All I can do is link this, the import of the image I sadly admit it took me a few looks to fully grasp. I’m a bit slow sometimes.

So, to raise my spirits:

Reader Grim sent these to me…as you can see the new bike lanes on North Harvard have not been totally understood just yet by the drivers in the area…perhaps a couple 100$ dollar tickets would smarten them up.

more pics here

Remember this, score one for the good guys, right?

And they’ve also repaved N. Harvard Street, so fresh and so smooth, complete with bike lanes! oh yay!

Oh… wait.

There are also signs like this posted all along this lane.

But nobody seems to care.

Great work, guys.

Attempting to organize the hundreds of pictures I’ve apparently taken in the past year of all things bike, I realized that this time last year, I hardly knew anything about bikes.

It’s weird…has it really only been a year? The tractorino’s official [Boston] birthday is January 7, 2008. Before that, the last bike I rode was [according to my sister, because I don't remember] a Giant mountain bike and I was probably 12. I barely knew how to lube my chain, much less tension a chain or fix a flat last year. I can’t believe I just admitted that.

So forgive me if I didn’t know the who’s who of bike mechanics and shop employees until this year. Luck decided to stop backstabbing me and leaving me when I needed her most when I became a regular at IBC and met Erich and the rest of my IBC peeps. I learned a little more about bikes, started making hats, and got lucky again with Kip, Jason, Zack, Pete, Tom and everyone at Cambridge.

I still don’t know the official who’s who of Boston cyclists, but I do know a few mechanics who are known around town as some of the best.

Maybe I’m hitting a lucky streak, but when I dropped in to buy something blatantly hang out, one of Boston’s reputed best tweaked a few things on my bike. It progressed from the usual: I walk in during a lapse in the busy day, prop my bike up somewhere, and while I’m talking to a friend, someone much taller than me decides to hop on my mini bike and ride it around the shop.

This time it was Tom. Tom, who does no handed skids in the shop while wearing one of my hats. Tom, whose beater bike is a stickered Bareknuckle with cruiser bars and a basket in the front [I wanted to kill him out of pure jealousy when I saw it, even if I'll never fit on one of those frames]. Tom, who, like Erich, is known as one of the best mechanics in Boston.

Almost instantly, my bike was put in a stand. My impossible front brake [which was being a little sticky] got adjusted ever so slightly, and my baggy chain tensioned. Meanwhile, I went into paparazzi mode.

I got so excited I started taking pictures of everyone, including Zack and his hair.

And if the hairstyles of the CB staff aren’t enough incentive to stop by the shop, my front brake came out working, and I can now ride confident that my chain won’t hop off my chainring and try to kill me. Sure, those aren’t terribly complex tasks, but it’s in doing the simpler things where you see the difference between “good” and “okay.” Or, at least in my case, the difference between “good” and “total suck/fail.”

I heart you guys. For serious.

As usual when I’m behind on posts I have a build-up of links to interesting things. Here are some bike accessories….
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