I am a cyclist. Everyday I put on my helmet, and sling my bag over my shoulder in preparation for my daily commute. Whether I'm going to work, the store or a social event, safety is always my first priority. Not just my safety but the safety of those I share the road with, whether they be fellow cyclists or drivers of automobiles.
When approaching an intersection I make sure to signal my turns in order to make my fellow road users aware of my intentions. When stopped at a light I always check the turning signal of the car behind me. If they're turning right I move my bike off the curb lane into the middle of the street -- the most dangerous place for a cyclist to be. We bike riders are notoriously slow off the bloke. By moving out of the curb lane I allow the automobile behind me to make their turn without having to wait for me to get out of the way. This means less waiting and more importantly less idling, which wastes fuel, a resource that grows more precious each day.
When traveling at night I sport lights on both the front and back of my bicycle. Reflectors work well for automobiles that are facing or following a bicycle, but vehicles approaching from the side might not notice me. My lights work on their own, letting other traveller's know I'm coming.
I don't have to do any of this. While I might technically be supposed to wear a helmet, I won't get a ticket for not wearing one unless the police are really bored. My lights are my own expense. Nobody asks me to buy them or honks when I don't signal properly. I do it because I want to.
I'm a cyclist. It's my duty.
For the most part my fellow travelers are accommodating. I get no reward for what I do and I don't want any. But though I do what I can to make sure I and those I share the road with stay safe, what does the city do for me? The answer is nothing.
Every day I take my bicycle onto the streets of Winnipeg I risk my life. Not because of cars or trucks but because of the roads themselves. Potholes, bumps, blisters, cracks, caves, I could list a dozen nouns to describe the plethora of obstacles I face in one city block, let alone my whole daily commute. Some of these obstacles are mere inconveniences, like the ridges between two imperfectly poured sections of asphalt. Others pose serious threats to my safety and the integrity of my bicycle. It is one such obstacle that has prompted me to write today.
It rests at the corner of River and Nassau, at the northern mouth of the north bound yield. The asphalt had been worn away to the reveal a concrete below and beyond that a deep fissure between where the concrete slabs join.
The crevice is no more than four inches at its widest, 20 long and at least six deep. To the average motor vehicle it means a bump in the road, a city truck wouldn't even notice. But to me it is a ticking time bomb.
My homeward commute takes me right over this particular pothole. Every night as I ride home from my job at a local restaurant I wonder will this be the night?
Well, one night it was. I hit the pothole head on and now the rim of my rear wheel is bent. My primary mode of transportation has been damaged by something the city has failed to fix.
Now I will have to buy a new one. I am working to support myself and to go back to school. This expense, small as it may seem to some, is one I can't really afford, and one that could easily have been avoided if the city took the needs of real cyclists seriously.
Mayor Sam Katz wants to spend millions on new "bike paths." They are great for recreational cyclists but completely useless for people who use their bicycles every day. We are students, and lawyers, doctors and bankers, who commute to work or school. We don't cycle because it's cheap. It's a choice, and our choice should be respected in the way the city chooses to maintain its streets. Spending millions to improve a cycling route that will benefit only a few? Why don't they spend some of it to fix some of the obstacles in the downtown area that pose a serious threat to the safety of cyclists every day. I would be happy to give them a list.
Just because I have two wheels doesn't mean I have fewer rights than someone with four.
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