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.

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:

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.