CVIndependent

Mon12092019

Last updateTue, 18 Sep 2018 1pm

First came the bare human foot, somewhere in Africa. Then, in no particular order, came the moccasin, the shoe, the horse and saddle, boat and oar, the ski, the snowshoe—and so much more.

All of these came to the backcountry and helped to enrich our travels there. Sure, there’s been some grumbling about how some of the more recent inventions make modern life too easy, but over time, those tools and technologies have become accepted parts of our adventures in even the most remote places.

But … whoa! Along came the human-powered mountain bike, and although it’s quite similar to the contrivances that hardy souls have been pedaling and pushing through cities and the backcountry since the mid-19th century, some people now consider them to be so high-tech that they should be banned from wild landscapes.

Critics complain that nothing seems to say, “I can’t truly get away,” like the thought of encountering wheels on a trail. Ignoring the gears, cams, springs, levers, satellite communication tools and highly technological gadgets already filling their packs, these critics abhor the presence of bicycles in any federally designated wilderness.

It’s been suggested that the desire to allow bicycles in wilderness is an extremist campaign by a faction of off-road cyclists—people indifferent to the conservation goals of the 1964 Wilderness Act. But bicyclists treasure designated wilderness areas, which are already shared by a wide variety of recreationists, including through-hikers, day-trippers, hunters, equestrians, skiers, snowshoers, birdwatchers, climbers and boaters. And also, of course, cows.

Bills introduced in both the Senate and House of Representatives have renewed the conversation about whether it’s high time to lift the Forest Service’s 1984 blanket ban on bicycles in federally managed wilderness. The bills would allow federal land agencies to continue to maintain complete closures to bicycles if they thought it necessary, but the decision-making authority would move from centralized control in Washington, D.C., to local supervisors of wilderness lands.

For evidence of the cyclists’ purported extremism, some critics look to the supposedly mainstream International Mountain Bicycling Association, which is on record as opposing bicycles in wilderness. But many members and IMBA-affiliated clubs have protested IMBA’s position, and some have even canceled their memberships. IMBA does good work on many fronts, but its stance on wilderness access is increasingly seen as a timid and misguided abandonment of backcountry cyclists and a denial of cyclists’ legitimate role in the conservation community.

One of IMBA’s top three affiliated clubs is just down the road from there: The San Diego Mountain Biking Association called IMBA’s board “tone-deaf to the community” before severing its IMBA affiliation in early 2018. Three years earlier, the independent, 6,000-member New England Mountain Bike Association was already pleading, unsuccessfully, for IMBA to support wilderness access for mountain bikes.

In 2016, IMBA surveyed its ranks and determined that 51 percent of members felt that including access for mountain bikes in wilderness was a “very important issue.” That result was significantly more pronounced in the Western states, where wilderness areas are concentrated. Also in 2016, one of off-road cycling’s best-known online communities, SingleTracks.com, surveyed its readers and found that 96.2 percent wanted some level of wilderness access.

It seems that the bid for wilderness access has reached the mainstream, and that the tension is less among mountain bikers and more between mountain bikers and the IMBA board of directors. Meanwhile, some cyclists continue to resist proposals for designating new wilderness, because they would be barred from riding in it. As a result, wilderness proposals sometimes get abandoned or scaled back.

Andy Kerr, former executive director at Oregon Wild, recently lamented, “There are millions of acres of qualifying roadless land that could go into the wilderness system, but the prior existing use of mountain bikes politically prevents it.” In the same post, Kerr recommends “allow(ing) mountain bikes into new wilderness areas with conditions.”

This conflict is unfortunate and unnecessary, given the largely shared vision and goals of conservationists, cyclists and other wilderness users. Shouldn’t agencies be free to at least consider bicycles?

The Wilderness Act of 1964 prohibited “mechanical transport,” but how that is defined has become ever more contested as we uncover the historical record. Moreover, bicycle opponents forget the Wilderness Act’s overarching goals, which remain the preservation of wild lands and the promotion within them of rugged, self-reliant recreation. An intrepid backcountry cyclist fits within these criteria perfectly.

It’s time to recognize that many Americans have chosen to add bicycles to their backcountry equipment and would sometimes like to use their bikes to experience the wilderness, while honoring the spirit and purpose of the Wilderness Act.

Daniel Greenstadt is a contributor to Writers on the Range, the opinion service of High Country News. He is an environmental industry consultant and lives in Portland, Ore.

Published in Community Voices

Editor’s Note: On March 8, the Independent published an opinion piece titled “Community Voices: It’s a Terrible Waste of Time to Argue for Bikes in Wilderness.” Here’s a piece that takes the opposite viewpoint.

It hasn’t happened yet, but one day, bicycles and baby strollers will be welcome in wilderness.

That’s the goal of the nonprofit Sustainable Trails Coalition, which seeks to permit forms of human-powered trail travel—beyond walking—in wilderness areas.

Congress never prohibited biking or pushing a baby carriage in wilderness. Both are banned by outmoded decisions that federal agencies made in the 1970s and 1980s. Over time, those decisions became frozen into place by lethargy and inertia.

It is true that the Wilderness Act forbids “mechanical transport.” By this, however, Congress meant people being moved around by machines, not people moving themselves with mechanical assistance. Now that wilderness acreage is larger than California and Maryland combined—vastly larger than when the walk-only rules were imposed—there is a pressing need to restore Congress’ original vision.

In 1977, renowned conservationists Sen. Frank Church of Idaho and Arizona Rep. Morris Udall explained what they thought Congress’ intentions were. Church said, “Agencies are applying provisions of the Wilderness Act too strictly and thus misconstruing the intent of Congress as to how these areas should be managed.” Udall warned against “stringent ‘purity’ criteria” that have “led to public opposition to wilderness proposals based on what is, and what is not, perceived to be … permissible in wilderness areas.” As early as 1964, some Forest Service staff wanted to ban even rowboats.

The Sustainable Trails Coalition’s proposal is modest. It would not permit mountain biking or walking with a baby stroller everywhere. Instead, local land managers would be given the discretion to allow forms of human-powered travel where they believe it’s appropriate. The United States has 765 wilderness areas, each one managed by officials who know the terrain.

Opposition to the coalition’s proposed bill apparently rests partly on unjustified fears that federal employees can’t manage land. Another argument is that where bicycles go, motorcycles and ATVs will soon follow. But members of the coalition have talked with staffers at many congressional offices, and none of them show any interest in using our proposed bill as a stalking-horse for motorized uses that, unlike bicycles, have never been allowed in wilderness.

We suspect that our opponents’ real fear is not that reform will fail, but that it will succeed. If we cease limiting wilderness travel to methods available in biblical times and thereby achieve better-managed wilderness, the previous cries of “wolf” will look foolish.

Some opponents accuse us of being pawns of giant bicycle companies with large cash reserves and a thirst to get bicycles back into wilderness. But the coalition is a grassroots effort, funded by individuals and a few small businesses.

Opponents of biking in wilderness are like pen-and-ink types opposing manual typewriters: It might be comical if the effects weren’t so grave, disconnecting more people from the outdoors and increasing their indifference to conservation.

Some people also worry that bicycles would “shrink” wilderness, and argue that we already have enough places to ride. But backpacking technology allows for more invasive intrusions into wilderness than bicycles. Most bicyclists leave the wilderness at dusk and don’t camp.

As for the call for us to “go somewhere else,” we would never patronize these critics by saying they’re not welcome in wilderness unless they travel by bicycle. We prefer to bicycle, but we don’t insist that everyone else has to ride. Bicycling is clean and environmentally benign, and has that wonderful quality of “flow,” which the human psyche rejoices in experiencing. Mountain biking may be richer in flow than any other recreational endeavor—that’s one reason so many of us prize it.

There’s a grim backdrop to the struggle over wilderness that this quarrel only worsens. In the 52 years since Congress passed the Wilderness Act of 1964, national forest wilderness has fallen victim to a number of contradictions that have warped the original vision. Some areas are overrun and loved to death, like the Maroon Bells in Colorado. Others are no longer managed and seldom visited, and marijuana growers reportedly have filled the vacuum, as in California’s Yolla Bolly. Still others, including the Pasayten in Washington, are despoiled by pack outfitters, whose abuses are ignored by many wilderness activists and the government.

Fixing these problems will take a generation, lots of money and new leadership. Cyclists can’t do it alone, but we can help, if we’re accepted as partners, and not treated as interlopers into the wilderness private club.

The Sustainable Trails Coalition loves wilderness and thinks Congress got the law right in 1964. Now, we seek restoration of the original vision. There is nothing to fear about granting federal employees the discretionary authority the coalition proposes.

Ted Stroll is a contributor to Writers on the Range, an opinion service of High Country News. He is an attorney and president of the Sustainable Trails Coalition in California.

Published in Community Voices

I shouldn’t be writing this, and you shouldn’t be reading it. Far more pressing issues face our public lands—but a vocal minority is drudging up the long-resolved question of mountain biking in wilderness.

They have even drafted a bill for somebody to introduce in Congress—the Human-Powered Wildlands Travel Management Act—that would open wilderness to biking. That means we have to pause and rehash the facts.

First, no legal argument supports biking in wilderness. Unambiguously, the 1964 Wilderness Act states there shall be no “form of mechanical transport” in wilderness areas. The discussion should end there, but a few claim that “mechanical transport” somehow does not include bicycles. They allege that the law unintentionally excluded an activity that emerged after it was enacted. Or they tout an early Forest Service misinterpretation of the law, which initially allowed bicycles in wilderness but was corrected more than 30 years ago.

The arguments have no legal merit. Worse, they ignore the historical context and foresight of the Wilderness Act, one of our foundational environmental laws. In doing so, they distract people from truly understanding our public lands. That’s not good for people or the land.

We should remember that the Wilderness Act grew from a half-century of public-lands battles, fought by America’s most influential conservation thinkers, including Aldo Leopold, Bob Marshall, Olaus Murie, and the indefatigable Mardy Murie, among others. Theirs was a multigenerational struggle to safeguard a vestige of the nation’s public lands from the advances of population and technology.

The technology part is important. The framers of the Wilderness Act knew human ingenuity was not somehow petering out in 1964. In fact, they lived in an era of fantastic invention. Forms of transport being tested at the time included jetpacks, gliders, aerocycles and various new wagons, boats and bicycles.

That the law anticipated future invention is indisputable, but it benefits us much more to know why it does. The reason was most concisely expressed by the bill’s principal author, Howard Zahniser, who, in 1956 defined wilderness as a place where we stand without the “mechanisms that make us immediate masters over our environment.”

Zahniser was a Thoreauvian pacifist deeply troubled by the Holocaust and other horrific events during his lifetime. In wilderness, he saw a suite of biophysical and social values that carried the potential to make us better people. But to fulfill its promise in modern times, by offering an opportunity for raw challenge, humility and solitude, wilderness had to remain a place of human restraint. For eight years, Zahniser worked with Congress to ensure that the law enshrined that ideal, with clear limits on acceptable activities in wilderness.

Some pressing for bikes in wilderness conveniently ignore this central principle. Instead, they focus on issues of trail erosion or impacts to visitors and wildlife, where they front overly rosy claims. In diminishing the purpose of wilderness, they hawk a dumbed-down version of the public estate.

Similarly, it is unhealthy to conflate the ban on bikes with a ban on a certain group of people. That tactic may stir emotion, but it undermines serious public-lands discourse. Nevertheless, some are using the trick, including Bike Magazine editor Vernon Felton, whose recent video casts bikes in wilderness as a civil rights issue. That’s an affront to anyone who has worked for voting rights, fair housing, protection against hate crimes or other actual civil rights.

Felton and others also oversimplify prohibitions on bikes in wilderness study areas, calling them overreach by conservationists or the feds. But such bans are essential to the purpose of these study areas, which must be carefully managed to preserve their eligibility as wilderness pending congressional action.

Another claim is that banning bikes turns people against wilderness, or even broader conservation issues. But I think those misrepresenting the facts are the ones driving a wedge. Either way, diminished support for wilderness is not good news. But nor is it new. The historical trajectory toward better land stewardship has always been the fight of the few.

One last thing to consider is the issue’s scale. The wilderness system is limited to roughly 53 million acres outside of Alaska. Smaller than Colorado, that portion is scattered across 43 states. And while most of the land is in the West, most of it is also rugged and unbikable. Meanwhile, hundreds of millions of acres remain open to biking.

Still, some will demand that bikes be permitted in wilderness. And they will join logging, mining, off-roading and other interests in whittling away at the boundaries of pending wilderness proposals. At a time when so many more serious issues confront our lands—climate change, ocean acidification, plastics pollution, sprawl and much more—it seems a misguided use of energy.

Tim Lydon is a contributor to Writers on the Range, an opinion service of High Country News, where this piece originally appeared.

Published in Community Voices

Editor’s Note: On Oct. 6, bicyclist Trisha Monroe was hit by a vehicle in Palm Desert. She suffered serious injuries.

Monroe was just the latest Coachella Valley resident to get badly hurt on our valley’s roadways while riding a bike. Therefore, the Independent asked Brett Klein and Vic Yepello to write a piece on bicycle-traffic safety.

By the way, friends of Monroe have launched a GoFundMe effort. Find that here.


The Coachella Valley has long been a place for cars—but we are collectively working to make our infrastructure safer for people on bikes. Making our cities function for pedestrians will also take a significant effort.

We want the ability to bike or walk from homes or hotels to shopping, parks, convention centers and meeting spaces, casinos and our neighborhoods.

For people on bikes, safety matters, and all of us need to learn, listen and be educated. In the last 10 months alone, there have been seven collisions between people on bikes and vehicles. Four have resulted in fatalities, with three resulting in major injuries. This brings the number of cyclists who have lost their lives riding on our valley streets since 2010 to 16.

As the city of Palm Springs and other valley cities continue to improve our roadway infrastructure to become more of an active transportation community (biking and walking), we all need to learn and follow the rules of the road, pay more attention while commuting and—above all else—look out for one another. We want everyone to know the basics for a bikeable Coachella Valley in order for each of us to take personal responsibility for our actions.

In 2015, California enacted the 3-foot law. What it means is that a motorist must give a cyclist at least 3 feet of space when passing, or when 3 feet is not available, slow down to 15 mph or less and proceed safely.

The law is good—but it’s not well-known yet. The Department of Motor Vehicles needs to promote it in all literature and driving tests. Media outlets can help by including PSA ads showing the 3-foot-law logo. SunLine and local police departments can include the 3-foot-law logos on vehicles.

To safely pass a cyclist: Slow down to a reasonable speed; move to the left if it is safe to do so, and proceed safely past the cyclist. Do not honk your horn.

Everyone needs to slow down and pay attention to their driving. Many people today drive too fast for conditions, and are often going faster then the posted speed limit. In their haste, they can make poor judgment calls and endanger cyclists by clipping or rear-ending them.

Cyclists also need to do their part to ride safely. Cyclists should always ride on the right side of the road, and in the same direction as traffic. They should stop for red traffic signals, yield to pedestrians, and always indicate their intentions to turn or stop. It is also required to stop at stop signs.

How can cyclists ride more safely? Many cyclists do a great job of following the rules of the road; however, others just do not get it. They ride on the wrong side of the road, going against traffic, and they improperly approach signal-controlled intersections and stop signs. It’s up to everyone to do better. Bike shops, bike-rental shops and hotels that lend out bikes can all help by alerting customers on how to be safer rider.

Use safer bike routes.Palm Springs Cyclery, the Palm Springs Visitors Center, the Welwood Murray Memorial Library, the Palm Springs Chamber of Commerce and City Hall all offer the latest versions of our bike-routes map. We recommend that all but the most experienced cyclists stay off Vista Chino; much of Highway 111; and Ramon Road, because of the high volume of traffic and the fast speeds. It’s also good to avoid Gene Autry Trail. However, it is a Class 1 bikeway if a rider stays on the sidewalk as indicated.

Bike lanes explained: Palm Springs and other desert cities are currently installing new bike lanes. There are three types of bike lanes currently in use in Palm Springs: Class I bikeways (bike paths), Class II bikeways (bike lanes) and Class III bikeways (roads).

Class I bikeways are off-road bike paths that can be trails, specially configured sidewalks or other forms of protected bike lanes. In general, a cyclist is 100 percent separated from traffic.

Class II bike lanes are striped areas of an active roadway. They are clearly marked where a cyclist can ride via road stencils and signage.

Class III are secondary roads that are not wide enough for a Class II bike lane, and therefore are stenciled with “sharrows” that indicate a cyclist can take and share the lane with cars.

To understand more about cycling and safety, we suggest reading Effective Cycling by John Forester.

Brett Klein and Vic Yepello founded the CV Bicycle Coalition in 2013. The coalition is working to create, promote and improve conditions for people on bikes in the Coachella Valley, in partnership with bike clubs, citizens, businesses, community groups, government agencies, city commissions and elected officials. The goal is to create a community where people can meet their daily transportation needs on a bike.

Published in Community Voices

San Bernardino police recently made national news thanks to a creative operation.

Cops, dressed in plain clothes or as homeless people, walked up to cars stopped at an intersection. The officers held signs, but instead of saying something to the effect of “need food,” the signs said something to the effect of “S.B. Police. I am not homeless. Looking for seatbelt and cell phone violations.”

Of course, many drivers didn’t pay attention—they were busy texting, talking on a phone or even eating.

Those drivers received citations.

The Palm Springs Police Department also recently conducted a creative operation, of sorts, to combat a common Palm Springs crime: bike theft.

In broad daylight, a marked police department bike was placed as bait, in Sunrise Park and in other areas of the city frequented by homeless people and the less fortunate. Of course, plain-clothes cops were on the watch.

During the operation, three people, all Palm Springs residents, were arrested for grand theft: Gilbert Langford, 43; Marcos Gonzalez, 29; and Charles Wunderlich, 30. Langford was also cited for violating parole; Gonzalez was on probation at the time of his arrest; and Wunderlich allegedly had drugs on him.

Bike theft is a growing problem in Palm Springs, according to the police.

“In 2014, 303 bicycles were stolen in the city,” Sgt. Harvey Reed said. “From Jan. 1, 2015, to July 31, 2015, 191 bicycles were stolen in Palm Springs.”

Lt. Mike Kovaleff declined to discuss details of the Bait Bike operation, because “it would jeopardize future details.” So I headed to Sunrise Park, where there are always plenty of folks who use bikes as their only means of transportation. Everyone I spoke to told me they’d heard of the Bait Bike operation. Kenny, a young fellow with a nice bike (who only wanted to use his first name), said he even served time due to Bait Bike.

“Yep, the cops nabbed me at the Circle K, midday, about eight months ago,” he said. “Got six months for a felony, had priors, served about a month and a half.”

Kenny recalls how it went down. “The bike (had) a carbon fiber frame, cost about $1,300. The cops were in a van, watching it all. They got me on the bike.”

Kenny stopped, scratched his head and reluctantly continued. “I was duped! A lady asked me if I wanna buy the bike. I fell for it. It was entrapment!”

Evidently, the judge didn’t buy Kenny’s explanation. As far as entrapment claims regarding Bait Bike, John Hall, the information specialist for the Riverside County District Attorney’s Office, was not able to comment.

Jose, another young fellow with a cool bike, explained what usually happens to stolen bikes.

“They go on bricks, man! No fool’s selling them to pawn shops; the owners work with cops,” he said. “A ‘hot’ bike is taken apart, and those parts are used to repair other bikes. Bikes are all we got, man!”

Sgt. Reed offered some useful tips on how to protect a bicycle from being stolen. Beyond having a photo of and the serial number for your bike, always lock the rear and front wheels to the frame—as well as the seat.

Most importantly, Sgt. Reed warned: “Never leave your bike unattended or unlocked, even if it's just for a minute.”

Published in Local Issues

A bike can mean a lot to a kid.

“It comes down to wellness,” said Brett Klein, chair of the Palm Springs Sustainability Coalition. “It also comes down to the ability to get from point A to point B.”

He used a not-so-hypothetical child who lives in the East Valley as an example.

“A kid may need to get to the Boys and Girls Club—and may need to travel three to five miles to get there, at a time when the parents are working,” he said.

This is why the City of Palm Springs Office of Sustainability, in conjunction with the Coachella Valley Bicycle Coalition and Sun Tran, is in the midst of a bicycle drive. The goal: To get more than 100 working, functioning bicycles to kids in need via both the Boys and Girls Club of Palm Springs, and the Boys and Girls Club of Coachella Valley, in Mecca.

The drive runs through Saturday, June 20. As of this writing (on Thursday, June 11), Klein said the drive, which kicked off in earnest on June 1, had garnered about half of its goal, boosted in part by a $3,000 donation by Trek Bicycles. He also said a local hotel/resort donated a bunch of old cruisers it had replaced with new bicycles.

Klein said used bicycles are more than welcome—so if you have a bike or two gathering dust in a garage, for example, bring it on down. New bicycles for children of any age are also appreciated, as are donations via cash or check (made out to “City of Palm Springs—Bike Drive”). All donations are tax-deductible, by the way.

The drop-off/donation locations:

• Hot Purple Energy, 810 N. Farrell Drive, Palm Springs

• Palm Springs Cyclery, 611 S. Palm Canyon Drive, Palm Springs 

• Palm Desert Cyclery, 77750 Country Club Drive, Palm Desert 

• SunLine Transit Agency, 32505 Harry Oliver Trail, Thousand Palms

The kids in need will not only receive the bicycles donated during the drive; they will also all receive a bike lock and a helmet, in addition to a safety lesson.

For more information, visit healthyplanethealthyyoups.com.

Full disclosure: The Coachella Valley Independent is a partner in the bicycle drive. In other words, we’re donating time and space to help spread the word.

Published in Local Issues

On this week's moving Independent comics page: Jen Sorenson wishes she could use her bike more; The K Chronicles wonders if some right-wing converts are for real; This Modern World enjoys the presidential-primary process; and Red Meat gets a special message from God.

Published in Comics

“When I see an adult on a bicycle, I do not despair for the future of the human race.” —attributed to H.G. Wells

When I was a small child, in a little village in Southern Germany, my bike was my golden key to exploration, adventure and new worlds. I lived in Africa between the ages of 5 and 8; I liked to wear turquoise saris and pedal my massive, maroon bike through the dusty fields and back roads. When my family moved to the suburbs of the Eastern U.S., my embarrassing orange-cream-and-white bike got me to town, to the library, to civilization.

Then came that magic age of 16, and the freedom to drive. I could go farther than the library! My bike got dusty in the garage.

Fast-forward a decade. I was 26 and had been living in London for seven years. I had no need for a car (and was too broke to have one, anyway), but was getting sick of public transportation—buses not showing up in the pouring rain, getting onto said buses with seemingly hundreds of others, etc. A good friend of mine, Laura, was using her bike as her primary form of transportation, and she convinced me to give a bike a shot. I got myself a super-cheap bike and began to cycle.

I loved it. The wind, the air, the energy, the rush of being outside and propelling myself forward to the destination! No matter what the weather conditions were, I loved it.

Then I moved to Salton City. When I first moved there, I cycled along State Route 86 between home and my job at the casino—yes, even at night. I was lit up like a Christmas tree—and it got pretty hairy at times along the highway, but it still beat sitting on my behind in a car.

I recently moved into the Coachella Valley proper, and I continue taking my trusty bike (upgraded now with slimmer wheels) out when I can. My bike played a part in my move: I figured I could cycle more and drive less—to work, to the stores, to dance class, to social gatherings, to events, and just for shits and giggles.

But … where is everybody? I do not see many other people who use the bike as a method of getting around—and I wonder why. We live in a fair climate area, with wide avenues, blue skies and acceptable temperatures at least three-quarters of the year. Many bike lanes are in place, yet they are hardly being used.

As for the few cyclists who are out there, there are predominantly two types: the poor, who have no alternative but to cycle (and take the bus); and the rich, who ride in carbon-fibered pedaling packs. Where is everyone else? Why aren’t people beyond those two extremes using bikes to get around Is it fear? Does it take too long to get places? Do people not even consider bikes as a fun and pleasurable alternative/option?

According to the National Highway Traffic Administration’s most recent National Survey of Bicyclist and Pedestrian Attitudes and Behavior, nationally, only 5 percent of the people interviewed use a bike to commute to work or school.

Granted, some of the local bike lanes are funky—waaaaaay too narrow, half on sidewalks, etc.—and what’s with switching from a cycle lane to being relegated to the sidewalk every other block on Eisenhower Drive? These issues certainly need to be addressed; some cities do better than others. CV Link will benefit the whole community, but that project is still years away. Still, today, there are many bike lanes—and overall, that’s good!

Of course, bike lanes aren’t the only concern; aggressive or inattentive motorists are a huge reason why many people are afraid to cycle. Drivers need to be more educated about sharing the road with cyclists, and should understand what it feels like to be passed too closely by a car. Thank goodness the 3-foot law goes into effect later this year!

Motorists: We bicyclists are not trying to piss you off; we’re just trying to get from here to there. And don’t ever yell at a cyclist to “get the fuck off the road.” We have every right to be on the road. And to those of you who cry out about rule-bending cyclists: Please make sure you are an obedient driver who never speeds, never runs yellow lights, never texts and never breaks any other driving rules. Otherwise, you’re a hypocrite—a hypocrite who can kill me with your vehicle.

Yes, people die while riding their bikes. About 2 percent of all traffic fatalities in the United States in 2011 were cyclists. That’s too many people—but far, far more pedestrians and motorists get killed in accidents than bicyclists do.

An enormous positive aspect of cycling is health and happiness. When I drive, especially long distances, I often arrive lethargic and tired. When I cycle, I feel more positive, have more energy, and can concentrate better. I am not the only one who feels this way

Of course, bicycling is not always a viable option; there are often real reasons to take the car. But when there is not a real reason … consider trying bicycling. Your body, your mind, your bank account and your environment will all thank you.

Published in Community Voices