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see more pics from a lazy Saturday in Durham over at Jack Edinger’s.

Column: Why should drivers, bicyclists share the road?

Phillip Barron
The Herald Sun
August 25th, 2005

DURHAM — If you haven’t heard, the state of North Carolina just issued new ?Share the Road? license plates. For $30 annually, cyclists who drive can show their fondness of two wheels even while in their car.

And if talk in the local cycling community is right, these new license tags couldn’t have come at a better time.

In June, the Herald Sun reported that Durham cyclist Drew Cummings was hit and seriously injured while riding to Pittsboro. Whether it was an accidental or intentional hit and run, the driver fled the scene and has yet to be identified.

Greg Sousa reports on a local cycling listserv that he was run off the road on his way to work one morning in July. And Douglas Woolcock says that someone in a passing car threw a fast-food cup at him while he was cycling down Ninth Street.

Both are skeptical that these encounters were accidents since both incidents involved a passenger in the car raising a middle finger out the window.

What’s going on here? Are the rising temperatures interfering with our sense of compassion? Do rising gas prices make it more difficult for motorists to show patience on the road? Do the summer swarms of cyclists upset all drivers?

A reader of this column, who wishes to remain anonymous, opines that some motorists are reluctant to share the road with cyclists who defiantly disregard traffic laws. Cyclists running red lights and stop signs are just a few of the anarchic affairs he’s irritated by. And, he thinks, these small acts of rebellion may be igniting a territorial instinct in other drivers.

He may be right. I’ve listened to radicals on both sides of this issue.

To hear some motorists talk about the perceived arrogance of cyclists, you’d think that sharing lane space with a bicycle offends them deeply. To hear some cyclists talk about the perceived arrogance of drivers, you’d think every car with which they share the road puts their life as well as national security in danger.

But vigilante justice, whether it’s a motorist chasing down an errant cyclist or a cyclist brandishing a U-lock as a weapon, is also against the law. More than illegal, it’s shameful behavior.

Thinking in extremes, leaves us prone to confrontation. It locks motorists and cyclists in a turf battle over space on the road, and no one wins a battle like this.

Roadways are dangerous places simply by virtue of the fact that they are filled with independently moving machines ? each traveling with enough speed to harm the delicate human body. Cars and bikes can mingle together safely, but only if we leave our attitudes out of the mix.

Let’s not let our tempers rise as high as the temperature. Rather than polarize the road, let’s share it calmly and safely.

Bike! It’s patriotic.

Errol Morris, documentary film-maker, occasionally does commercial work to pay the bills. He’s got a hilarious series of aborted projects for Miller High Life, including this one about “alternative fuels.”

His commercials are about as over-the-top manly as they come, full of the kind of swagger and strut and posturing you expect from a Texas politician. So, it’s all the more intersting that he depicts bicycling as a patriotic thing to do. Too bad this commercial never aired.

Four days off, four days of riding

I don’t very often have consecutive days of absolutely no obligations, so months ago I committed to spend four days in July on some classic Southeastern singletrack. My plan was to drop off a friend in Atlanta, then meander my way back to Durham.

In the days leading up to the trip, Hurricane Dennis was bearing down on the Gulf of Mexico. About the time I left Atlanta, Dennis hit the panhandle of Florida, heading due north. I knew I had to be flexible, so I was prepared to check out trails in northern Georgia, eastern Tennessee, and western North Carolina. I planned to outrun the rain and bike where I could.

Phillip Barron The Herald Sun August 11th, 2005 OAXACA, MEXICO — After asking at a taller de bicicletas (a bike shop) whether I could rent a bike, a mecanico leads me across the street to Pedro Martinez. Sr. Martinez is a former Olympic mountain biker who rents bikes and leads tours in Oaxaca, Mexico.
(Bicicletas Pedro Martinez)	His office is small, just big enough for a counter, ten bikes to hang tightly against the wall, and shelves for helmets and cycling shoes. A collection of cycling jerseys hangs overhead, and inside the glass case that forms the counter are cassettes, pedals, hubs, and derailleurs. What available wall space is left is covered in poster-sized photographs of Martinez himself competing in races.
While Sr. Martinez is busy arranging a hiking tour with customers, his nephew Roberto invites me in. In the best Spanish I can muster, we joke about the pain of a long climb, about reaching down to click into the next easiest gear only to realize that you’re already in it, and about the white-knuckles and big eyes of a sketchy descent. He tells me there is a 50 mile endurance mountain bike race on Sunday and invites me to race on a rented bike. I’m tempted but decline in favor of a ride through the streets of Oaxaca.
Sunday morning, I arrange to take a bike for two hours and ask about the local mountain bike scene. Roberto charges me 50 pesos (about $5.00) for a nice bike (a Giant Rincon), a pump and spare tube, tire levers, a lock, and a helmet.	(Rincon in the Zócalo)
Leaving the shop, I ride down la calle Aldama and turn south on JP Garcia. Although the sidewalks are crowded, traffic flows swiftly in the streets. Oaxaca is, like most developed areas, an auto-centric place. But bicycles fit right in with traffic here, and I never feel threatened by the buses, trucks, and taxis swirling around me. In fact, as I get more comfortable with the new traffic patterns, I realize that drivers around me seem to be more aware and respectful of bicyclists than I am used to.
(I snapped this one the day before)	I decide to ride the road up Monte Alban, a tight, steep road that leads to Zapotec ruins dating back to 100 AD. It’s a grueling climb, but the views alone from the roadside make it worthwhile. Halfway up the road, I can see all of Oaxaca to the east. I snap a photograph in my mind and turn around.
Next I head north, riding the narrow one-way streets up to Chapultepec Highway. Although I see a few cyclists riding traditional road bikes, because of numerous speedbumps and the occasional cobblestone street, mountain bikes are the steeds of choice. (typical narrow street, facing north)	(Iglesia de Santo Domingo) I reach the northern end of the city passing la Iglesia de Santo Domingo, a cathedral built between 1570 and 1608. Santo Domingo sits squarely inside the art district of Oaxaca, and I pass several cafés catering to gallery patrons. (art district, facing south)
My two hours are coming to an end, so I turn back and begin riding southwest. On a bike, it’s easy to navigate a city laid out in perfect square blocks, and I make my way to the Zócalo and the adjacent Alameda de León.
The Zócalo and Alameda de León are wide, auto-free pedestrian plazas where kids chase balloons, artists sell crafts, and musicians entertain day and night. I ride slowly through the crowds and notice several other cyclists also converging on the parks. These plazas are both the geographic and cultural focus of the city, drawing people to it. I feel as though I’m traveling against the natural flow of traffic as I leave the Zócalo and head south again for Aldama. (Zócalo and sculpture in the background)	(creativity on the Alameda de León)
Roberto welcomes me back into the shade of the office and asks where I’ve ridden. I tell him that I now believe that a bicycle is the only way to see Oaxaca, and he agrees. Out of curiosity, I ask whether he rents any single-speed mountain bikes. He laughs at the idea of riding a bike with only one gear in the mountains. I guess he needs to visit North Carolina.

See the rest of my pictures from Oaxaca and Puerto Escondido here.

talleres de bicicletas de Oaxaca (bike shops of Oaxaca)

Bicimundo — on calle Aladama, I bought some bright blue fixed-gear hubs here. The west end of calle Aldama seems to be the focus of the biking community.

Pedro Martinez — Pedro, a mountain biker who once rode for the Mexican Olympic team, rents bikes and guides tours in the mountains around Oaxaca. His shop is tucked inside an alley off Aldama.