From 99% Invisible, a video on why Dutch-style intersections provide better safety and comfort levels for bikers and pedestrians, as well as better visibility and easier reaction times for turning cars dealing with bikes and pedestrians.
General
This was mostly expected, but as the daylight hours recede – shrinking down as the sun is deep into winter hibernation – and the clouds move in, lowering the sky and dropping the blanket of cool moisture on the city, my biking activity has also dropped.
I continue to use my bike as my primary mode of transportation, riding to and from campus regardless of the weather. But the weather (and the workload of the last weeks of my inaugural quarter of grad school) have worked on the back of my brain and kept me from the longer exploratory rides I reveled in when the sun was out.
It hasn’t been a conscious decision, really. It’s just that in the past, where I might have found a spare hour or two, looked out the window and made the decision to ride, now it simply seems more appealing to spend those hours working on something else, or just drinking hot cider and listening to the raindrops on the window.
But as I continue to commute on bike, I’ve found the weather doesn’t really create a barrier to biking. In addition to the rain pants, I made a thrift store find and now have a nice breathable, waterproof jacket (this is a more versatile option than my previous decision of a non-waterproof jacket or a non-breathing rain coat – I would usually go for the non-waterproof item, as even in a heavier rain the exterior would get wet but the water rarely soaked through the interior liner). I still would like to find a better glove option, but I’m OK on that front as well. So it’s no worse biking than walking in the rain, and biking has proven to be a faster option than the bus for any of my short-hop transportation needs.
What the dreariness has done is build a mental barrier which makes it less likely I’ll just hop on and go. But now that the quarter is over and I’ll have more free hours, I’m going to try to at least occasionally step out and pedal a bit. There’s still nearly an entire city to explore.
I started this blog to see if it was actually possible to get around Seattle by bike as a very casual cyclist. After two months of casually biking around Seattle, I can absolutely say the answer is … maybe.
The weather hasn’t been as much of an issue as I would have guessed. The hills, on the other hand, are both better and worse than I initially feared. Continue reading…
Where to go?
There was a discussion in one of my classes recently about web design, and one of the most basic principles went something like this: “Don’t make your users feel stupid.”
I feel like this piece of advice should be adhered to well beyond the confines of web design. Really, in pretty much any instance where you’re trying to impart information to people, you generally want to do so without making them try to figure out what’s being said, avoid confusion and basically not make them feel stupid. So on my ride home from that class, I had to finally stop and take a picture of the strangest “helpful” road marking for bikes I’ve seen in Seattle. Continue reading…
It seems that the rain really will just continue to come down, but now I have a partial defense against Seattle’s drearier elements.
My previous attempt at biking in a proper rain (getting around in the more usual misty conditions isn’t really an issue – even a couple months in, I barely notice any moisture in the air that isn’t actually falling, but instead hanging there, waiting for you to run into it) left me with the unpleasantness of sitting around in wet jeans for hours after the ride.
This time, however, I added one crucial piece of gear to my arsenal. Last week, I picked up a pair of rain pants at REI, which were worth every penny I paid. They are loose enough to be comfortable to move and pedal in, and fit easily over my jeans. But they also have fasteners at the bottom, not only to keep rain from getting in underneath, but which also serve to keep them well out of the way of my chain (which is a better solution in the rain than rolling up my right leg to avoid the disaster of having my pants caught in the gear at high speed). Continue reading…
Even after riding to and from the UW campus for more than a month and doing some quick research on bike resources on campus, I had no idea the university had self-service bike maintenance stations, including (in theory) air pumps.
Thanks to a classmate who’s also biking for pointing this out. The campus has five repair stations next to bike rack locations, although they’re easy to miss if you don’t know they’re there. Even with the map of the locations, it took me a second when I got to the spot before I found the tools handing from a repair stand.
The tools are a nice touch, but what I was really looking for was the air pump – I realized my tires were woefully low. At the first spot I tried, the air pump was simply missing. At the second, the pump was missing the presta valve fitting. With my tires still hurting for air, instead of continuing to try each of the five locations to see if any of them had functioning pumps, I simply stopped by the ASUW bike shop in the HUB and used one of their floor pumps.
The self-service stations are a good idea. It’s a shame they’re not better marked (and a few signs alerting bikers to their existence at other main bike racks around campus would also help), and a bigger shame the air pumps – probably the most commonly needed tool – aren’t there.
A while ago, I read Tom Vanderbilt’s book Traffic. There were lots of interesting looks at the various aspects of how and why traffic looks like it does, but one of the main takeaways for me was often what people think is in their best interest when it comes to transit is counter-intuitively bad for the network and community as a whole.
Vanderbilt didn’t, as far as I remember, talk much about bikes, but I was reminded of that point recently when a friend sent me a New York Times post. According to the city, transit initiatives such as bike lanes and better bus service has increased business in the affected areas. Not all of these initiatives were – or are – popular, as evidenced by the comments on the post. People accused the city of making up the numbers. One commenter said they didn’t believe business was up, because parking spaces were down. Because they believe the lack of parking is a hindrance to business, the numbers that disagree must be wrong.
I’m always a little surprised when I hear arguments that seem to equate better biking facilities with hurting the ability of people to get around in cars or otherwise having an unavoidable negative effect on everyone that isn’t on a bike. In most cases, traffic doesn’t seem to be a zero-sum game – helping one person or type of transit doesn’t mean hurting another.
Which is why it’s been kind of a shock to see opposition, online and off, to finishing the “missing link” of the Burke-Gilman Trail. The other day I saw a commenter somewhere refer to it as something like “that job-killing bike trail in Ballard.” As someone who is trying to become a more regular biker, and who finds it often easier to run short errands to businesses by bike rather than car (no waiting for a parking space) or bus (no waiting for a bus), it seems a no-brainer to link two sections of existing bike path when there seems to be space for it that doesn’t affect the existing roadway. But as best as I can tell, for many people losing parking spaces is a horrible fate. It’s an interesting reminder that not everyone is interested in getting around outside a car.
Thanks to reader AJL for pointing out that the day after I asked what equipment I’d need to survive Seattle’s rainy season, Seattle Bike Blog went ahead and answered my question.
After asking the question here and offline, a few people let me know there wasn’t any must-have equipment for biking, beyond what is must-have for doing anything in the rain.
From Seattle Bike Blog’s post:
Do you own warm clothes that you wear when walking in the rain? Then you already own everything you need to bike in the rain.
Most city bike trips do not require special clothing, even in the rain. Over time, you will discover outfits and items of clothing that make rainy biking more comfortable. But don’t get intimidated by your lack of bike-specific clothing. If what you own keeps you dry enough to wait for a bus or to walk a few blocks from a parked car to your destination, then it is good enough for a quick bike trip across town.
So far, I’ve gotten lucky. Even when the day has been rainy, when I’ve headed out on my bike there have been breaks in the rain. The worst I’ve had to deal with so far is the light mist, or, as it’s known in Seattle, “the air.”
But I’ve realized I’m not quite ready for a long, wet winter. The cold I’m prepared for. The soaking wet, not so much. Tops on my want list: good gloves that will dry quickly, and a better rain jacket. I’ve got a thin rain coat, but it looks like a warm, water-resistant jacket will be more than welcome in the coming months.
Also, I like this description from the SBB post. I don’t know if I’ll find rainy biking will be quite as much of a pick-me-up as this, but I’m willing to try.
Especially once days get really short and gray, biking is my best defense against seasonal affective disorder. Pedaling is like generating your own sunshine. It keeps you feeling energized and in touch with Seattle’s natural rainy whimsy that you might miss otherwise.
I sit here with the rain dripping outside my window, and I realize I’m not equipped for this at all. At least not to take on this weather with my bike.
Since I mostly use my bike for relatively short (five mile) commuting or errand runs, I’ve usually been a fair-weather biker. If it’s nice enough to jump on and go in jeans, I’m there. Perhaps toss a shirt in the bag to change into at the other end. I’ve never bothered to get proper gear even for slightly longer recreational rides, figuring my athletic shorts and a T-shirt would work well enough.
But now I’m trying to get a little more serious about this bike thing, and use it to get around even when the weather doesn’t cooperate. I might even become more adventurous and try to push into the dozens of miles on pleasure rides instead of being happy to break double digits. So I’m aware there are some necessary items I’m missing, but I’m less sure what exactly they are.
So for those of you who are used to hopping on a bike throughout the Seattle winter – how do you equip yourself for the elements? What are the must-haves for a wet biker’s wardrobe?
I had a thought yesterday, as I was struggling to haul myself up the Fremont Avenue hill at the end of an otherwise-enjoyable 10 mile ride.
(Not that the hill really detracted from the whole experience once I made it up, but as I’m still dragging around 40 or so extra pounds and haven’t yet gotten my bike fitness to the point where any rise doesn’t lead to burning thighs and overwhelmed lungs, uphill climbs are still an issue. )
The thought, or question, really, was this: If you’re biking in Seattle, would you prefer to live at the top of a hill, or at the bottom?
Living at sea level means any rise you tackle during a ride you get to lose somewhere near the end. You’re not finishing by struggling up a slope which cruelly appears as you’ve already expended a good deal of energy. In many cases, you can avoid hills altogether by winding along the water. There are pleasant trails and many destinations there for the taking, without ever casting your eyes upward.
On the other hand, living on the top of a hill means it’s easy to motivate myself to get out and bike – every trip starts with a down – or at least level – slope. I’m not thinking of the hill at the end, but of the trip waiting for me. By the time I return and have to make my way back up, the motivation of getting home makes it worth it.
For the out-of-shape starting biker like me, the bottom of the hill seems attractive. But I think I’d miss out on most of the city, as I’d try to avoid making my way up the hills and ridges, instead staying on the periphery.
Of course, the question might be moot for most of you, such as the dozen or so cyclists – including that 60-year-old – who blew past me as I made my way up Fremont. And any route around this city will have far more than one rise to navigate. Still, all in all, I’ll take my spot up on top.
