Breaking the Law - Can I Escape the Long Arm?

In the previous post I mentioned that one of the things I enjoy most about being a cyclist is the ubiquitous parking which comes along with owning a bicycle and a stout cable lock. Well, today I’m going to discuss something else I enjoy immensely while riding: breaking traffic laws.

Conveniently, cops seem to look the other way when anyone who is using their legs breaks laws. Although I’ve heard rumors of tickets issued for jaywalking, I have yet to have a personal experience where this is the case, nor have I heard it from anyone to whom it directly happened. I would venture to say that a pedestrian safely crossing the street when traffic permits stands a very low chance of receiving a citation. Similarly, I’ve been blowing stoplights, stop signs, crosswalks, and disobeying most traffic laws in D.C. for nearly a year and have yet to receive as much a stern look from DC’s finest. I would like to think this is because they have much more important things to do, like busting the meth dealer who lives across Georgia Avenue from me, but in my cynical world, it means they just don’t care.

In stark contrast, a car which safely crosses traffic during a red light has zero chance of getting away with it if witnessed by a cop, and due to the magic of red right cameras (at least here in DC), small chance of getting away with it period. I have personal experience with this, although not in DC: I “ran” a red around midnight on a Wednesday or something in my college town (by “ran” a red I mean stopped, looked both ways, then turned left), and was immediately stuck with a ticket I couldn’t afford. I have yet to receive a traffic citation while driving in the District, but I’ve heard horror stories from coworkers who were stopped for running a yellow. Frightening.

Unless traveling on a major north-south thoroughfare or Route 50 or something, I usually end of at least keeping up with car traffic, if not passing it. This is especially true when I’m on my way to work; clipped in, legs pumping, I’m a fearsome warrior who overcomes obstacles (stop signs, traffic lights, crappy DC streets, and those damned huge steel plates everywhere in NW) and enemies (cars, pets, people) to get to work and bring the beer money home. During more leisurely rides (to Giant, Wonderland, etc.), I’m okay with cars getting there faster, content that I’m spending less money, getting exercise, paying nothing to Exxon, emitting no gases, and in general being the perfect member of society. In fact, no one describes it better than a famous bicycle blogger: my cone of smugness is in place.

My best days are when I’m in leisure mode, yet traffic is so heavy due to construction, a roped off murder scene, or the Starbucks line in Dupont I still manage to beat cars to my destination. Nothing irks me more than a car veering far into the opposite lane to pass, only to screech to a stop at the upcoming red light, often cutting me off in the process and nearly forcing me to clip the protruding rear view mirrors of the parked cars to my right. Instead of instantly becoming angry, I calm myself and search deep down for what would, in turn, most irritate this particular driver. Usually, this involves me coasting up to the red light, looking both ways, and then continuing on my merry way while the driver waits, fuming, at the red. Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly nasty, I’ll turn around and wave.

Promoting the Status Quo?

Continuing upon the last post. According to the Nationals website, the new Nationals Stadium is “bike friendly” with “250 bike racks” surrounding the stadium and nearby. Needless to say, “bike rack” isn’t very specific. Does this mean 250 separate locations with multiple attachment points, or does it mean 250 attachment points? And the burning question: do any of these racks look suspiciously like “NO PARKING” signs or street lights? Best case scenario (250 separate locations) means a significant number of bicycle parking spots; I would estimate as many as 2,000 bicycles (8 per location) could be accommodated. Worst case is about 500 bicycles maximum chained two to a post, handlebars crossed, brake lines tangled, and pedals in spokes. There is nothing like pouring out of the stadium after a Nationals loss to find a few bent spokes and a scratched frame.

The numbers sound impressive, but let’s look at this compared to typical automobile parking garage capacities. A 500 automobile capacity parking garage would be considered nowhere near enough capacity for a venue designed to seat up to 66,000 paying fans at once! The driving public would be immediately up in arms, and the media would swarm to cover the poor families who can no longer drive to the afternoon ballgame. Let’s also imagine a scenario in which cars had to be parked close enough together that doors could barely be opened without damaging another car, or perhaps literally bumper to bumper. Totally unacceptable, yet somehow when bicycles are involved, it’s no big deal. After all, they’re just bikes.

Then again, one has to weight the consequences of over-legitimizing the bike parking gig. Complain as I may, I have trouble liking the idea of a multi-story concrete bicycle parking garage, much less one in which one is charged a fee to park their bicycle. Part of the fun of bike ownership is getting places quickly on the cheap, with the satisfaction of knowing that you can park your bike almost anywhere; railings, street signs, perhaps even the occasional bike rack if it is available. Metered parking for bicycles would literally make me cry.

As a caveat, I do believe that DC is taking huge strides in promoting bicycle use and safety within the city limits, and the Washington Area Bicyclists Association (WABA) is doing a fantastic job in promoting bicycle use for commuting and pleasure. For example, bike valets staffed by WABA volunteers are present at numerous public events. Offhand, I can think of two: the 4th of July fireworks at the mall and the green convention at the Washington Convention Center.

Not that biking in certain areas of DC need much promoting, or to the population of mid-30’s and older folks who can afford a high-end road bikes who live near the northwest Maryland-DC border. If you’ve ever walked, driven, or even ridden a bike at less than peleton speed on the bridge near the DC-Maryland border, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’d feel safer crossing 16th Street at rush hour than braving a relaxed bike ride on the same road as these guys on a Sunday morning. One minute you’re enjoying the solitude and relaxed pace, perhaps on your way to the grocery store, the next minute you’re surrounded by shaved legs, old-guy smell, and slurping noises as Accelerade is sucked down by the gallon.

Horror of Horrors: A Nats Game

I’m not anthropophobic or anything, but let’s just say that huge, sweaty crowds of people who have just been swilling $7.50 a pop beer and stuffing their faces with nachos del grande with extra Jalapenos and “Nats dogs” for past three hours provoke a range of emotions. Anxiety. Fear. Stress. The urge to clock the runty-looking guy in the Phillies jersey loudly discussing D.C.’s “stupid” and “unacceptable” parking policies in the face, smash his iPhone (I’m just assuming he had one) and run.

As I try to avoid the guy with the hairy back and red tank top while gunning for the narrow Metro entrance (along with a few thousand perspiring, odiferous strangers), I think back to something I saw mere hours ago. I’m talking about the free (yes, free) bike valet located at the Nationals stadium. There were only a few bikes located in the spacious (and very secure-looking) valet area as I walked past in the crush of people who had just swarmed out of the Metro (coming from an equally crowded green line train). The valet opens two hours before the first pitch, and closes about an hour after the Nationals lose, staffed by two paid stadium employees. And it’s free. Nothing is free.

“What could be better?” I thought. Besides the satisfaction I would get from smashing aforementioned Philly fan’s iPhone, nothing came to mind. I started to daydream about gliding past the White House on the way to the game, dodging angry drivers in traffic and pedestrians laboring slowly towards the stadium, and then handing my bike over to the valet and waltzing straight into the stadium. On the way home, I would rocket back up to Northwest past the monuments and up 7^th Street past Chinatown, drinking in the cool- yet-soggy night air, enjoying the streets now mostly devoid of traffic. And now just home to speed bumps the size of a WWF wrestler and bike lanes that end mid-street.

In reality, I would still be sweating and would still have crowds of other sweaty people around me, at least for the immediate few blocks surrounding the stadium. I would probably also get nasty looks as I try to push my bike through the crowd, but at least I wouldn’t be fumbling to unlock my bike (now sans anything that could be easily stripped, like front wheels) from the guardrail while being crushed by a grumpy human tidal wave. Additionally, biking does nothing to improve the Nats’ on base percentage, and doesn’t do anything to prevent irritating Philly fans. I mean, come on. I don’t go to your crappy city with its more-than-one-year-old stadium on a Tuesday night to sweat and cheer for my team, so don’t come and wave your stupid looking hats in mine.