I get a ton of ‘state of the bike lane’ type emails outlining just how great the biking community is doing, and how much progress is being made toward creating a culture of tolerance and equality on the roads of Boston. And then I go outside and get on my bike, and as I roll around the streets, I wonder just what Spandex Sally and Fixed Gear Fred (who apparently won’t approve my comments any more, because it’s great to be idiotically optimistic, but not ok to be appalled and cynical) are fucking talking about. It’s all very well that more bike lanes are being put down, but what does that matter if they’re still being used as personal jogging lanes, loading zones, taxi lanes, and dropoff areas for Grandma and the Special Snowflakes?

Here’s an example of what I do every day while the rest of the spandex crew are strapping on their clip shoes and patting themselves on the back:

N. Harvard Lane Patrol

After about a half hour, the police finally show up (after I called three times) and ask the vans to move. Success? Not so much. The vans  just re-parked completely on the sidewalk. I called the police again, but didn’t really have the heart to continue waiting. At least the bike lane was clear.

N. Harvard Lane Patrol, Conclusion

In the 30-40 minutes I was there, 30-40 cyclists rode through. Not one of them gave any grief to the vehicles parked in the bike lane on this extremely busy causeway.  I  know that going to bike related events in your little spandex pants and caps is super fun, and you feel like you’re part of a something important. However, unless you’re actually helping to change the on-street,  every day culture of cyclist victimization, you’re essentially only throwing money at the problem. Bike lanes don’t make streets safer unless motorists respect them. If I had a dollar for every time a car, truck or bus swerved into the bike lane and hit me or came close enough to make me scream, I could actually afford one of those chic chrome bags all the cool kids wear. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Anyway, fucking do something, guys. And I don’t mean milling about drinking beer and chowing on pulled pork. Call the cops. Videotape some shit. File a report. Support not only bike lanes but RED LIGHT CAMERAS, and bike boxes, and more traps for cars. We are a long way from getting the respect we deserve.

On a lighter note, here’s a picture of Crash eating a lobster.

Memorial Day Weekend

Greetings, dear readers. Sorry I left you stranded for so long. It is once again September, which means another summer is over, I am a year older, and the Burning Man cycle has drawn to a close. It’s been alternately a very fun and exciting year and a slow, stressful, painful one. I’m happy to say that I learned a few things, though I won’t bore you with the details. What I will do is show you some pictures from the Burn. Hopefully I’ll be able to keep up this blog a little more consistently this year. I’m still working on the same activism issues I was last time around, but at this point bureaucracy has ultimately failed me. You may be seeing fewer interviews or email correspondence and an increased number of mug shots. I’m sure there won’t be any complaints. Anyhoo, let’s roll this pumpkin!

This was my favorite Mutant Vehicle - a giant scorpion with flame-throwing claws and stinger.

This one isn't bigger on the inside, but it was big enough for our purposes.

Reunited with the kids of Camp Here. You can't find a better group of people on the playa.

Reunited with the beloved hammock where Crash and I fell in love. <3

Squirt gun: check. Boffer sword: check. Bring it.

Gutternaught the chopper returns to the desert in all her creaky, badly lubed glory.

This year I camped with some of my old friends from SCUL. This edifice is the brainchild of MegaSeth, second from the left.

The Story

You heard me right. I loathe to even think about watching myself blither incoherently on television, but that’s what’s going to happen tonight on WBZ-TV, channel 4 in Somerville. The 11pm news will be running a special report about the MBTA’s neglect of traffic laws, among other things, and they’re using excerpts from my interview last Friday. Yikes!

At least we’re getting the issue out there, YAAAAY!

…what beautiful music they make! This morning I passed a road bike that was making a noise like a jackhammer. I suddenly realized, now that my ears had perked up, that I was not being followed by a flock of Starlings, but that my chain was making the most horrific squeaking noises I’d ever heard NOT coming from a bird. Luckily I’ve already got a neon green replacement chain for poor, salty Krankenberry to wear once the winter is over. We’re not that lucky yet – apparently two storms are on the way for this week, with a mixture of snow and rain… my favorite! Hopefully these fronts flop like that last ‘Noreaster’, and I won’t have to pull out my Gore-tex.

In other news:  All this PR work is making a dent in the MBTA!

I had an interview last night with Kathy Curran and Elsie Nolan, from WBZ-TV & TV38 about the rash of reckless driving by employees of the MBTA, and specifically buses along Route 66. It was a short interview, so I didn’t have time to cover much more than I’ve already delved into with Zero Combustion, but I did demand accountability, transparency and visible action by the MBTA. In interesting news, apparently Kathy and Elsie were privy to information that I was not – namely that the driver of one of the buses involved in my complaints was suspended for three days – this is the information John Houghton of Cabot Garage gave WBZ-TV anyway. It’s a far more satisfying reaction than ‘will be disciplined for his actions’, or ‘will seek retraining’, which is what I was repeatedly told.

No matter what, this means we are making headway! Keep calling the MBTA! Keep dialing 911 and reporting the Speedy Parasite! Ride tall and damn it, ride safely!