[Note: This article from Der Spiegel was published on Saturday, Aug. 17,
2013, in the Winnipeg Free Press but is not yet available on their website.
Here it is from the original source -- the content appears the same though
unfortunately the final two paragraphs were dropped in the Free Press
presumably for space. The Der Spiegel headline was also more positive,
"Bike boom: Popularity of Cycling Leads to Overcrowding". Ah, for such
problems!]
Too Many Bikes? Challenges in Europe's Cycling Boom
By Holger Dambeck <http://www.spiegel.de/extra/0,1518,632103,00.html>
http://www.spiegel.de/international/zeitgeist/bike-boom-popularity-of-cycli…
More bicycles were supposed to make Europe's cities more livable. Instead,
the popularity of two-wheeled travel is causing problems in some cities in
Holland and Denmark, where traffic jams and parking shortages are common.
Still, planners remain optimistic.*
*
The bike path is completely full -- in pairs or three abreast the cyclists
roll past the stoplight at a snail's pace. They pass by biker-to-biker for
a good 80 seconds before the gaps between them finally start to widen. The
scene at a Copenhagen intersection is captured in a YouTube
video<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYajXN4pPHI>,
which shows what can happen when a third of a city's population travels
every day by bike.
Urban planners in Denmark and Holland are well acquainted with problems
like these. Cycling has been heavily promoted, and more and more people are
taking to the pedal -- but eventually cycling paths, bike racks and other
parking areas have begun to run out of space. The bike boom -- long seen as
the universal solution to roads jammed with parked cars, dead inner cities
and other urban maladies like noise, smog and lack of exercise -- threatens
to choke on its own success.
Take the example of Groningen, a city in the northern Netherlands. Out of a
population of just under 200,000, there are 375,000 bicycles, and 50
percent of all trips are made by bike. "We are very proud of our high share
of bicycles, but the success has also caused problems," Jaap Valkema, the
city's bicycle commissioner, recently said in a panel discussion at the
Velo-City urban cycling conference in Vienna. One must keep in mind,
cautioned Valkema, that public opinion can always flip. "We have to take
action," he said.
*Groningen* * Wants 65 Percent Bike Traffic*
Urban planners in Groningen flipped the switch some 35 years ago. That's
when they cut off all automotive traffic through the city center. Cycling
became the most flexible and popular means of transport. But even if a bike
takes up less space than a car, it became difficult to find space to cycle
in Groningen's center.
To get the chaotic bike parking situation under control, the city has laid
out red carpets where bike parking is not permitted. Parking areas are then
demarcated in turn. Ten years ago, there were 3,000 bicycles parked in
front of the main train station," said Valkema. Today there are 10,000, he
added, primarily because of the rising number of students in Groningen.
Soon that number could be as high as 15,000 or 17,000. A parking garage has
been built at the station to accommodate this flood of bikes. "It may be
that we have to start charging for parking," said Valkema, "at least for
more than a day."
The city wants to increase the share of cycling traffic -- the so-called
Modal Split -- to 65 percent by 2030. To achieve this, the city has planned
a new parking garage with spaces for 1,200 bikes. In addition, traffic
planners want to route car and bike transportation more consistently.
Instead of broadening bike paths, they will soon reclassify entire streets
as cycling roads.
*Cycling Infrastructure Pays Out*
Copenhagen is grappling with similar problems. The most heavily frequented
bike paths headed to the city center are, at the most, 3-4 meters (10-13
feet) wide. As long as the light is green, a steady stream of cyclists
flows by at around 20 kilometers per hour (12 mph). But at some point the
light turns red -- and then patience is called for. "Sometimes the bike
path is so full that I need two, three traffic light phases before I'm able
to cross the intersection," says Niels Torslov, the Danish capital's chief
traffic planner.
This year alone, the city has invested €22 million ($30 million) to adapt
and expand the current infrastructure. "We are focussing on the areas of
the cycling network where there are often traffic jams and that are
unsafe," says Ayfer Baykal, Copenhagen's deputy mayor for environmental
issues and technology. She considers those millions a good investment. "Of
course cycling infrastructure costs money, but it is a very effective and
affordable way to improve mobility in Copenhagen," she adds.
The bicycle boom is causing problems in the German
capital<http://www.spiegel.de/international/germany/the-battle-for-germany-s-roads-…>,
as well. "There is a lack of space on the roads," says Burkhard Horn, a
Berlin traffic planner. "The bike paths are too narrow. Sometimes 30, 40
people will be waiting at a traffic light." There have also been conflicts
between fast and slow cyclists, because many bike paths -- especially older
ones -- don't offer space for overtaking other bikers.
*Anger on the Sidewalk*
Horn also worries about increasing conflicts with pedestrians. These also
go back to poor planning. Years ago, bike paths were often built into
sidewalks -- inevitably bringing pedestrians and cyclists into
uncomfortably close vicinity. And on some streets without bike paths, some
cyclists prefer riding on the sidewalk rather than the street, because they
feel safer there or because the pavement is smoother to ride on. In the
bicycle metropolis of Copenhagen, cycling on the sidewalk is, incidentally,
absolutely taboo.
*[As noted above, these final two paragraphs were not included in the WFP.]*
In Berlin, the problem is slowly being resolved: The city is adding cycle
lanes to existing road surfaces. But because money is scarce, there won't
be a physical separation, such as a curb, as is customary in Denmark and
Holland. The price for this is that cars continue to misuse bike lines as
parking spaces.
But where this journey is headed is well known to Horn, the traffic
planner: "We need to reallocate space for bicycles. That is inevitable. The
space will be taken from cars."
Vancouver cycles, Winnipeg recycles
By: Catherine Mitchell <catherine.mitchell(a)freepress.mb.ca>
http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/opinion/columnists/vancouver-cycles-winnip…
The acrimony in Vancouver over the development of a new cycling route shows
just how much people hate change. Not in Vancouver, in Winnipeg.
Vancouverites have just weathered a blistering debate about the value of
encouraging commuters to get out of their cars and onto bicycles. The
redevelopment of Point Grey Road, from Jericho Park to Hadden Park at the
Burrard St. Bridge, will construct separated bike lanes, but also dump cars
entirely off a one-kilometre stretch of the route.
If you've driven in rush hour in that city, you understand the hard
feelings. Closing that one-kilometre chunk of Point Grey will push 10,000
motorists onto other routes.
Nevertheless, the project passed city council 7-2 last week. I say good on
them.
No, inertia is Winnipeg's problem. Compare Vancouver's bold plans to what
has happened here, what unfolded in 2010 when city council painted miserly
bike lanes along residential roads and plopped in some sorry excuses for
traffic circles. The customary high-pitched whine turned into all-out
revolt. Lawsuits, even.
Living on Grosvenor Avenue, I can tell you the bitterness festers -- I hear
the honking horns, and chronic complaints and witness a stubborn refusal to
heed the rules of the roundabouts, which remain eyesores on the leafy
street. When was the landscaping supposed to be done?
Little wonder, then, city council got away with pulling the fast one on the
active-transportation strategy -- the $400,000 for a study that was
supposed to devise a plan to pull together all the fractured pieces of
various bike routes, lanes, paths, trails and boulevards: quietly cancelled
by public works. Coun. Jenny Gerbasi stumbled onto the public works
decision by chance.
Mayor Sam's can-do campaign that got him first elected in 2004 made some of
us feel he would bring the spirit that built a ballpark to the grinding
gears of a city bureaucracy, pave the potholes and bring Winnipeg into the
21st century for urban design.
Meanwhile, Winnipeg's 3.6-kilometre rapid-transit splurge remains a stub of
an idea to move bus riders speedily through congested streets. And the
$20-million shot in the arm 2011's expansion gave to the
active-transportation plan did not, as was hoped, spark real progress
toward a safe, dedicated cycling network.
I know cyclists who still ride on sidewalks, even where the city has
reserved a metre or so of curbside space for them. Painting the blacktop
with white bicycle graphics that rapidly wash out doesn't engender a load
more goodwill from motorists.
The difference, I think, is culture. The automobile has reigned supreme for
so long in this city, and too few councillors are up to the heat that will
come in challenging inertia.
The equivalent here of Vancouver's plan for Grey Point Road would turn one
side of Wellington Crescent exclusively over to bicycles, squeezing two-way
vehicular traffic to the other side of the boulevard. Imagine the
congestion that would erupt on Academy, or Corydon.
That would elicit howls of indignation from many that such a plan favoured
the well-heeled residents of the crescent and a small percentage of
commuters at the expense of ordinary shmucks just trying to get to the
office. (That's what they said in Vancouver, too).
Maybe a few of those motorists would leave the keys at home, though. A
dedicated road is a safer, more efficient ride, and security is pivotal to
convincing people to commute by bike.
I biked to work once. I can still feel the hair on the back of my neck
rising as I picked my way along on Arlington, north of Portage, and up
McPhillips.
Others with greater dedication to clean living do it, daily (well, OK,
maybe not every day of the year). But they are part of a small, tenacious
group of warriors.
That hardy club isn't going to grow much, I think, until we link a series
of routes where bikes are separated from cars, which is probably what the
active-transportation strategy would have advised.
There are a lot of reasons to envy Vancouverites, but rush-hour traffic
isn't one of them. It's congested. You can idle in frustration for a long
time, burning gas that costs $1.50 a litre.
That, too, is part of the strategy.
catherine.mitchell(a)freepress.mb.ca
*Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition August 3, 2013 A15*
In an effort to make Edmonton more bike-friendly, the City is getting
creative.
As part of an education campaign called "Let's Get There Together," three
new videos have been unveiled, starring mini Lego figurines. The short
videos cover common issues that may arise when cyclists and motorists share
the road.
Check out this link:
http://globalnews.ca/news/783642/city-using-unique-method-to-promote-bicycle
-safety-on-edmonton-roads/
Thanks
Dave
o
_ ( \ _
(X)\ /(X)
Thanks, Erik, very interesting and apropos to a study I was looking at this
morning comparing route safety to route preferences.
UBC's BICE study<http://cyclingincities.spph.ubc.ca/injuries/the-bice-study/>by
Kay Teschke, Meghan Winters and Mike Brauer "examined the association
between *bicyclists’ injuries and the cycling environment *(e.g., route
types, intersection types)" in Toronto and Vancouver, and then compared the
results with those of an earlier
study<http://cyclingincities.spph.ubc.ca/opinion-survey/>of route
types that motivate and deter cycling.
Here's a snippet of the results:
"We found that route infrastructure does affect the risk of cycling
injuries. The following features were the *safest*:
- cycle tracks (also known as “separated” or “protected” bike lanes)
alongside major streets
- residential street bike routes with traffic diversion
- bike lanes on major streets where there were no parked cars
- off-street bike paths
- intersections with motor vehicle speeds below 30 km/h
- residential street intersections
The following infrastructure features had *increased risk*:
- streetcar or train tracks
- downhill grades
- construction
- sharrows (shared car / bike lanes)
- traffic circles at residential street intersections
- arriving at an intersection in the direction opposite to traffic
*are safe routes preferred routes?*
In our earlier study
<http://cyclingincities.spph.ubc.ca/opinion-survey/>of route types
that motivate and deter cycling, we found that people
preferred to ride on bike-only paths, multi-use paths, residential street
bike routes, and cycle tracks. They preferred NOT to ride on major streets.
The graph below compares our injury study results on route safety to the
results on route preferences. Preferences and safety largely agree. Major
streets are less safe and not preferred. Bike-specific routes are safer and
preferred. The main disagreement was that multi-use paths are preferred,
but were not particularly safe. They could be made safer by making them
straighter so sight lines are better and by removing obstacles like
bollards."
cheers,
Beth
On Fri, Aug 16, 2013 at 12:29 PM, Erik Dickson <edickson(a)scatliff.ca> wrote:
> A very interesting article from this weeks’ Green Lane Project News (
> http://greenlaneproject.org/blog/view/what-if-bike-comfort-is-more-importan…).
> For anyone who has ever debated “vehicular cycling” there are several good
> points regarding whether the debate over what is safer is really the most
> important debate or if we should instead being asking ourselves what is
> more comfortable and likely to attract new riders. An interesting further
> discussion may be should we always seek the most efficient routes for bike
> infrastructure even though longer, parallel routes may have the potential
> to be more comfortable. - Erik
>
>
> *What if bike comfort is more important than bike safety?* *By Michael
> Andersen, Green Lane Project staff writer* *August 14, 2013*
>
> <http://www.flickr.com/photos/bikeportland/8884323350/>
>
> When I'm standing near the edge of a high ledge or cliff, I know,
> rationally, that I'm unlikely to fall. I've spent most of my life without
> spontaneously tumbling sideways, and standing on the edge of a cliff
> doesn't change that.
>
> I know, statistically speaking, that I am almost completely safe.
>
> But that doesn't mean I like to stand near the edge of a cliff.
>
> When I'm in the front seat of a roller coaster, I know, rationally, that
> my body is extremely safe. Tens of thousands of thrill-seekers have raised
> their hands in the air without being harmed.
>
> But that doesn't stop me from being scared of raising my hands in the air
> in the front seat of a roller coaster.
>
> <http://www.flickr.com/photos/rk_photos/9331712551/>
>
> When I'm riding my bike along a five-lane arterial road, I know,
> rationally, that the professional truck driver next to me is statistically
> unlikely to suddenly swerve to his right, crushing and killing me.
>
> But that doesn't mean I like to bike on a street like this:
>
> Last week, I interviewed<http://greenlaneproject.org/blog/view/at-last-feds-move-toward-a-green-ligh…>a man whose main ideas have been rejected by mainstream bike advocates in
> the United States: John Forester, founder of the "vehicular cycling"
> concept. Because cars and bikes rarely collide when they can see each
> other, Forester and his allies argue, people should ride bicycles where
> they are most visible: right down the middle of standard traffic lanes.
> Protected bike lanes modeled on those in Northern Europe, they argue, move
> people on bikes to the side of the roadway where they're harder for people
> in cars to see.
>
> There's something to this argument. If there weren't, it wouldn't have
> been nearly so successful in the 1970s and 1980s. To Forester and his
> successors, such as Bicycle Quarterly's Jan Heine, peoples' desire to use
> protected bike lanes is irrational and therefore unjustifiable<http://janheine.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/separated-cycle-paths-a-summary/>
> .
>
> "Most Americans suffer from bicyclist inferiority complex," Forester told
> me. "Most of the things that they like appeal to their phobias."
>
> There's a standard response to Forester, Heine and others who make this
> case against protected bike lanes: that although no intersection is perfect
> and a given protected lane might slightly increase the short-term risk of
> collision at a given intersection, a city that offers a robust network of
> protected lanes will actually become safer in the long run, because more
> people will ride bikes<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safety_in_numbers#Examples_of_substantial_incr…>
> .
>
> This is a pretty strong argument.
>
> But is it the best one?
>
> What if Forester, Heine and others are using the wrong metric to measure
> the success of a bike lane? What if "safety," as calculated by government
> statisticians who sit far away from speeding semi trailers, isn't actually
> a bike lane's most precious characteristic?
>
> What if bike designers, instead of arguing about safety – an argument
> that, to be clear, I think protected bike lanes would win – decided that*the most important measure of a good bikeway is whether people tend to like
> it?*
>
> I'm not arguing that safety is unimportant. Obviously nonprofessionals are
> imperfect judges of whether a particular lane or intersection is safe, and
> cities must work carefully to design good, safe intersections with few
> bike-car conflicts.
>
> But when professionals make safety their only absolute value, they presume
> that physical safety is the most important value in people's lives. And
> that assumption is demonstrably false. Of course people want safety. But
> they want other things, too.
>
> *A restaurant doesn't measure its success by the percentage of people who
> dine there without getting sick.* It measures success by the number of
> people who come in the door, how much they pay and how often they return. A
> public transit line isn't funded by the federal government based on its
> anticipated vehicle failure rate. It's funded based on the number of people
> who are expected to use it.
>
> And as for bike infrastructure, here's the thing: as one study<http://otrec.us/project/33>after another
> <http://otrec.us/project/33>has found, people go out of their way to use
> bike lanes, especially protected bike lanes<http://dc.streetsblog.org/2013/08/07/study-cyclists-gravitate-toward-street…>
> .
>
> *Bluebonnet Lane in Austin.*
>
> Surprise! It turns out that, rationally or not, people dislike biking on a
> street that constantly reminds them of their own possible demise.
>
> Even if, rationally, they know they're almost completely safe.
>
> Here's what a more human-centric way of thinking about bike design would
> involve:
>
> - In every city, making the number of anticipated users the primary
> metric for designing a desired bike project.
> - In every city, actually taking efforts to measure the usage of
> important bike projects.
> - Using the phrase "safety and comfort" as a pair of core values in
> street design, but not as a pair of synonyms.
>
> This line of thinking is why, at the Green Lane Project, we use the phrase
> "low-stress" to describe the bike networks we value most. We don't talk
> about building "safer bike lanes," though ultimately a network of good ones
> is safer.
>
> We simply talk about building "better bike lanes."
>
> People aren't robots, and they don't change their behavior based on
> mathematics. They change their behavior based on feelings. Until bike
> advocates and street designers alike understand this, bikes will never
> successfully belong.
>
> *Green lane idea of the day: **Street designers should consider making
> short-term safety a baseline requirement of better bike facilities, but not
> the sole measure of bike projects' value.** *
>
> *Cycle track photo from Copenhagen by J.Maus/BikePortland; used with
> permission. Cliff photo by Adam Baker. Roller coaster photo by raghavvidya.
> *
>
> Regards,
> Erik Dickson
>
> Suite 1120 – 201 Portage Avenue
>
> Winnipeg, MB R3B 3K6
>
> ph: (204) 927-3444 ext. 242
> fax: (204) 927-3443
> web: www.scatliff.ca
>
> blog: http://scatliff.tumblr.com
>
> Please consider our environment before printing this message.
>
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> AT-Network mailing list
> AT-Network(a)lists.umanitoba.ca
> http://lists.umanitoba.ca/mailman/listinfo/at-network
>
>
A very interesting article from this weeks' Green Lane Project News
(http://greenlaneproject.org/blog/view/what-if-bike-comfort-is-more-importan
t-than-bike-safety). For anyone who has ever debated "vehicular cycling"
there are several good points regarding whether the debate over what is
safer is really the most important debate or if we should instead being
asking ourselves what is more comfortable and likely to attract new riders.
An interesting further discussion may be should we always seek the most
efficient routes for bike infrastructure even though longer, parallel routes
may have the potential to be more comfortable. - Erik
What if bike comfort is more important than bike safety?
By Michael Andersen, Green Lane Project staff writer
August 14, 2013
<http://www.flickr.com/photos/bikeportland/8884323350/>
When I'm standing near the edge of a high ledge or cliff, I know,
rationally, that I'm unlikely to fall. I've spent most of my life without
spontaneously tumbling sideways, and standing on the edge of a cliff doesn't
change that.
I know, statistically speaking, that I am almost completely safe.
But that doesn't mean I like to stand near the edge of a cliff.
When I'm in the front seat of a roller coaster, I know, rationally, that my
body is extremely safe. Tens of thousands of thrill-seekers have raised
their hands in the air without being harmed.
But that doesn't stop me from being scared of raising my hands in the air in
the front seat of a roller coaster.
<http://www.flickr.com/photos/rk_photos/9331712551/>
When I'm riding my bike along a five-lane arterial road, I know, rationally,
that the professional truck driver next to me is statistically unlikely to
suddenly swerve to his right, crushing and killing me.
But that doesn't mean I like to bike on a street like this:
Last week, I interviewed
<http://greenlaneproject.org/blog/view/at-last-feds-move-toward-a-green-ligh
t-for-separated-bike-lanes> a man whose main ideas have been rejected by
mainstream bike advocates in the United States: John Forester, founder of
the "vehicular cycling" concept. Because cars and bikes rarely collide when
they can see each other, Forester and his allies argue, people should ride
bicycles where they are most visible: right down the middle of standard
traffic lanes. Protected bike lanes modeled on those in Northern Europe,
they argue, move people on bikes to the side of the roadway where they're
harder for people in cars to see.
There's something to this argument. If there weren't, it wouldn't have been
nearly so successful in the 1970s and 1980s. To Forester and his successors,
such as Bicycle Quarterly's Jan Heine, peoples'
<http://janheine.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/separated-cycle-paths-a-summary/>
desire to use protected bike lanes is irrational and therefore
unjustifiable.
"Most Americans suffer from bicyclist inferiority complex," Forester told
me. "Most of the things that they like appeal to their phobias."
There's a standard response to Forester, Heine and others who make this case
against protected bike lanes: that although no intersection is perfect and a
given protected lane might slightly increase the short-term risk of
collision at a given intersection, a city that offers a robust network of
protected lanes will actually become
<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Safety_in_numbers#Examples_of_substantial_incr
eases_in_cycling_associated_with_reduction_in_danger> safer in the long
run, because more people will ride bikes.
This is a pretty strong argument.
But is it the best one?
What if Forester, Heine and others are using the wrong metric to measure the
success of a bike lane? What if "safety," as calculated by government
statisticians who sit far away from speeding semi trailers, isn't actually a
bike lane's most precious characteristic?
What if bike designers, instead of arguing about safety - an argument that,
to be clear, I think protected bike lanes would win - decided that the most
important measure of a good bikeway is whether people tend to like it?
I'm not arguing that safety is unimportant. Obviously nonprofessionals are
imperfect judges of whether a particular lane or intersection is safe, and
cities must work carefully to design good, safe intersections with few
bike-car conflicts.
But when professionals make safety their only absolute value, they presume
that physical safety is the most important value in people's lives. And that
assumption is demonstrably false. Of course people want safety. But they
want other things, too.
A restaurant doesn't measure its success by the percentage of people who
dine there without getting sick. It measures success by the number of people
who come in the door, how much they pay and how often they return. A public
transit line isn't funded by the federal government based on its anticipated
vehicle failure rate. It's funded based on the number of people who are
expected to use it.
And as for bike infrastructure, here's the thing: as one study
<http://otrec.us/project/33> after another <http://otrec.us/project/33>
has found, people
<http://dc.streetsblog.org/2013/08/07/study-cyclists-gravitate-toward-street
s-with-protected-bike-lanes/> go out of their way to use bike lanes,
especially protected bike lanes.
Bluebonnet Lane in Austin.
Surprise! It turns out that, rationally or not, people dislike biking on a
street that constantly reminds them of their own possible demise.
Even if, rationally, they know they're almost completely safe.
Here's what a more human-centric way of thinking about bike design would
involve:
* In every city, making the number of anticipated users the primary
metric for designing a desired bike project.
* In every city, actually taking efforts to measure the usage of
important bike projects.
* Using the phrase "safety and comfort" as a pair of core values in
street design, but not as a pair of synonyms.
This line of thinking is why, at the Green Lane Project, we use the phrase
"low-stress" to describe the bike networks we value most. We don't talk
about building "safer bike lanes," though ultimately a network of good ones
is safer.
We simply talk about building "better bike lanes."
People aren't robots, and they don't change their behavior based on
mathematics. They change their behavior based on feelings. Until bike
advocates and street designers alike understand this, bikes will never
successfully belong.
Green lane idea of the day: Street designers should consider making
short-term safety a baseline requirement of better bike facilities, but not
the sole measure of bike projects' value.
Cycle track photo from Copenhagen by J.Maus/BikePortland; used with
permission. Cliff photo by Adam Baker. Roller coaster photo by raghavvidya.
Regards,
Erik Dickson
Suite 1120 - 201 Portage Avenue
Winnipeg, MB R3B 3K6
ph: (204) 927-3444 ext. 242
fax: (204) 927-3443
web: www.scatliff.ca
blog: http://scatliff.tumblr.com
Please consider our environment before printing this message.
A bit of a long read but interesting none the less.
http://grist.org/cities/an-american-in-denmark-close-encounters-with-europea
n-bicycle-culture/
An American in Denmark: Close encounters with European bicycle culture
The first thing that struck me, climbing the steps from the train station
into the city of Copenhagen on a recent Wednesday morning, was the great
abundance of bicycles. The street outside the train station had been
converted into a chaotic, open-air bicycle parking lot, with bikes stacked
on double-decker racks. Bikes lined every sidewalk, stood two- and
three-deep against the old stucco and brick facades, and leaned against
every lamp and signpost.
The second thing that very nearly struck me was someone riding a bike. I was
crossing a square en route to my hotel, lugging my bags, when I heard,
behind me, the jolly "jing, jing!" of a bike bell. Back home in Seattle,
bike bells are quaint - a pleasant way to give fellow bikers and pedestrians
a gentle "heads up - coming through." Not so much in Copenhagen.
As the cyclist swerved around me he muttered something about a "bike track."
A second bell rang behind me and I realized, suddenly, that I was walking in
a bike path that cut through the square. I shuffled as quickly as I could
out of the way, realizing that here, a bike bell should be taken as
seriously as a car horn.
Such was my introduction to Danish bike culture. I was in Copenhagen for
four days with a group of travel bloggers, the trip paid for by Denmark's
tourism bureau <http://www.visitdenmark.com/denmark/tourist-frontpage> ,
which is trying to promote Copenhagen as a destination for bike tourism. (I
generally avoid such junkets. They make me feel dirty. But this one seemed
too good to pass up, and with a little arm-twisting, my editor consented to
let me go.)
I wasn't the first bleary-eyed American to nearly get mowed down by a
bicyclist upon arriving in one of Europe's bike capitals. Pete Jordan
describes a similar experience in the opening chapter of his book, In the
City of Bikes: The Story of the Amsterdam Cyclist
<http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9780061995200-5?&PID=25450> . Nor was I the
first American to be blown away, befuddled, or generally wowed by the number
of people who ride bikes in these cities. Jordan (you may know him as
Dishwasher Pete <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dishwasher_Pete> ) reveals
that we Yanks have been ogling European bike culture (and the toned legs of
European bicyclists) for 100 years or more.
But there's no shame in that. The ogling is good here! In a jetlag-induced
haze, I spent my first day in Copenhagen wandering the streets, swilling
espresso at sidewalk cafes, and checking out the bikes and the people who
rode them. I learned a few things in the process.
For starters, the bikes: When I think of European bikes, my mind immediately
leaps to the Tour de France, which happened to be in progress when I was in
Copenhagen - think $10,000 carbon fiber, pedal-powered crotch rockets. But
there were no racing bikes here. Instead, the urban peloton lolled along on
(mostly) black cruiser bikes decked out with wind-catching fenders over the
wheels, plus jaunty wicker or metal baskets up front, utilitarian racks in
the back.
And while the streets were remarkably free of car traffic (turns out that
most of Denmark was on holiday at the time) there was the constant, tinny
squeak of a thousand rusty bike chains. I'm not talking about a little
russet stain on just a few chains; almost without exception, these chains
were absolutely encrusted with rust.
Later in the week, when I pointed this out to Mikael Colville-Andersen, the
man behind the Copenhagenize <http://www.copenhagenize.com/> and Cycle Chic
<http://www.copenhagencyclechic.com/> blogs, he just laughed. "It's a
vacuum cleaner," he said of a bike. The implication: A bike is a tool,
something that does the job of getting you from one place to the next - not
something to pamper and obsess over.
Of course, there's another reason that locals allow their bikes to fall into
such disrepair: Copenhageners are a trustworthy lot, the guidebooks will
tell you - except when it comes to bikes. A shiny, well-tuned ride is apt to
become a target for thieves. And if your bike is likely to be ripped off at
some point anyway, there's no sense in babying it. (Dishwasher Pete
describes Amsterdam's stolen bike economy in great detail in his book,
which, if you care at all about bikes, or just want a unique window into
European history, is well worth the read.)
A wild menagerie of utility bikes also thread through this old city. The
most common variation is a three-wheeled cycle with a large box up front -
Copenhageners call them Christiania bikes, as many of them are made in
Christiania, the city's hippie quarter, where squatters took over an old
army barracks in 1971 and never left. These bikes are used to haul all
manner of cargo, from flowers to dogs to people. A Christania bike can
accommodate a couple of kids - I saw four of them packed into one - and it
isn't uncommon to see an adult folded into the bucket, enjoying a ride
across town.
There are a few high-tech variations on the cargo bike. Colville-Andersen
let me take his Danish-designed Bullitt for a test drive later in the week.
He also gave me a ride across town in the bucket.
But for the most part, when it comes to bikes in Copenhagen, it's function
over fashion. (For those of you who love a little bike porn, though, we've
put together a slideshow
<http://grist.org/slideshow/precious-cargo-these-bikes-carry-just-about-anyt
hing-pianos-included/> of images from Colville-Andersen's latest book,
Cargo Bike Nation.)
Which brings me to the bicyclists - and back to the ogling. Copenhagen's
bike riders range from toddlers just finding their legs (wheels?) on
pedal-less starter bikes (I didn't see a single tricycle or set of training
wheels) to elderly men and women who navigate the city center right along
with the city's youthful masses.
A great many of the bikers on these streets, though, are tall, blond, and
beautiful. I found the homogeneity to be a little disconcerting - since, in
my mind, a city's health is measured in large part by its racial diversity.
But if there's one place one would expect to find an overwhelming
preponderance of Northern Europeans, it's in, well, right ... (Of course,
lest you think that race and general tolerance of others is not an issue
here, I would call your attention to a certain cartoonist
<http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9F04E3D6153EF931A25751C0A960
9C8B63> .)
Almost none of the people riding bicycles in Copenhagen had gone out of
their way to "dress for biking." Few wore helmets (more on that later), and
of the thousands of cyclists I saw in the city, I could count on one hand
those who were wearing Spandex. (Ten bucks says they were Americans.) The
men rocked jeans or business attire, and many of the women wore skirts -
long, short, and almost non-existent.
When my wife wondered, via email, what the secret was to riding in a skirt
without revealing your delicates to all the world, I put the question to our
tour guide, a young Copenhagener named Christina who now lives in New York
City. Again, I got laughed at. "Remember," she said, "we're Scandinavian."
Translation: Just hike up your skirt and ride, girl!
Just as remarkable as the people riding the bikes were the things they did
while riding: They talked on cellphones, smoked cigarettes (Copenhageners
smoke like chimneys - "but we still live until we're 85, because the biking
cancels it out," one local told me), sang, held hands, gesticulated with
both hands while cruising along, top speed, talking to a friend on a
neighboring bike. And I didn't see a single one of them wipe out.
As Colville-Andersen suggested, bicycles sit at the heart of urban living in
Copenhagen. These people were as comfortable on their bikes as we are in our
cars in the states. But, as I learned later, it hasn't always been that way.
As an American on my first visit to Copenhagen a few weeks back, I was
whopperjawed
<http://grist.org/cities/an-american-in-denmark-close-encounters-with-europe
an-bicycle-culture/> by the bicycle traffic on the "bike tracks" that
swallow up a lane on each side of many city streets there.
Particularly mind-blowing was the cavalcade of bicyclists that charged
across a certain bridge just a few hundred feet from my hotel - a bridge
that, I later learned from city officials, probably sees more bike traffic
than any other in the world. Queen Louise's Bridge (Dronning Louises Bro to
the Danes) carries over 40,000 bicycles each day. For perspective, that's
more than twice as many people as bike to school or work each day in the
entire city of Portland, Ore., which is roughly the same size as Copenhagen.
Standing on Queen Louise's Bridge at rush hour, you watch the crush of
bike-riding humanity riding past. The riders queue up at the stoplights at
either end of the bridge, and woe be to the pedestrian (or driver, for that
matter) who gets in their way when that thing turns green. It's such a
spectacle that, since the city widened the bike tracks and sidewalks about
five years ago, the bridge has become a popular hangout and people-watching
spot for young Copenhageners. Some have taken to calling it the "hipster
bridge."
More than a third of the residents of the Copenhagen metro area - 36
percent, by the city's count - bike to school or work each day. That blows
away any city in the U.S.: In Portland, top among U.S. cities, only 6
percent of commuters go by bike. And a whopping 75 percent of Copenhagen
cyclists ride year-round, despite the fact that the weather in this city,
which is at roughly the same latitude as Juneau, Alaska, was described by
almost every local I spoke to as flat-out "shitty" (imagine Seattle, only
darker in winter).
Copenhageners are proud of their biking habits. "It's like brushing your
teeth - it's something everyone does," says Marie Brøndom Bay, a
representative of the city's bicycling division. But those numbers have been
hard-won. And to Brøndom Bay and other city officials charged with
minimizing car traffic and air pollution, and promoting public health, even
a third of the populace on bikes is not nearly enough.
As in most European cities, cycling was bigger in Copenhagen 100 years ago.
The Danish capital hosted the first world road racing championship in 1921.
And bikes flourished here during the first and second world wars. But like
in other cities on the continent, car culture revved up in the 1960s and
swept aside bike usage. By 1970, only about 10 percent of road users were
bicyclists. Bikes saw something of a resurgence during oil shortages in the
1970s, when Copenhagen instigated car-free Sundays (Hello Ciclovía
<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ciclovia> !), and riding rose through the
1980, '90s, and early aughts. But the numbers of bikers never returned to
anything close to pre-1960s levels.
FietsberaadThe number of cyclists riding into Copenhagen during morning peak
rush hour, 1950-2005.
In recent years, city officials have fought hard just to hold ridership
levels steady, and of late, they've had a hard time convincing more
residents to ride. One local transportation policy wonk wonders if
Copenhagen has hit a "glass ceiling" with cycling. It's a problem: The city
council has pledged to make the city CO2 neutral by 2025, and that will
require more people to bike.
City planners have set out to get fully half of the citizenry to cycle by
2015 - a goal that will require an additional 55,000 people to ride rather
than drive. (Encouraging cycling is also a part of official Danish health
policy: The city estimates that biking already saves about $300 million
annually in health costs.) But numbers have been slow to tick up, despite
some remarkably innovative programs designed to boost bicycling - programs
that one transportation official describes as "the carrot, the whip, and the
tambourine."
When officials talk about the carrot, they mainly mean better bike
infrastructure. The most obvious part of this is the ubiquitous cycle
tracks. Unlike most of the bike lanes in the states, Copenhagen's bike
tracks are separated from car traffic by at least a curb, and in many places
by a row of parked cars. The city boasts more than 225 miles of cycle
tracks, and in recent years has spent considerable resources maintaining and
upgrading them. In my experience, cycle tracks were often in better shape
than the streets.
To encourage more people on the outskirts of the city proper to ride,
Copenhagen began construction on a web of "cycle superhighways" connecting
outlying areas to the city center. The first one was completed last summer
<http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/18/world/europe/in-denmark-pedaling-to-work-
on-a-superhighway.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0> , and connects the city with the
suburb of Albertslund. I took a dreamy ride on it one afternoon: Lined with
greenery and wide enough for four cyclists riding abreast, it wound through
a local university campus and over bike-only bridges spanning busy roads.
Where it paralleled roads with cars, it was separated from the traffic by
both a curb and a line of parking spaces. Biking here was stress-free -
quite a contrast to my route to work in Seattle, which one international
bike expert recently called "death-defying
<http://seattletimes.com/html/localnews/2021268792_bicyclingpucherxml.html>
."
Other carrots include what transportation planners call the "green wave" -
traffic lights timed to match the speed of cyclists and thus minimizing
waits at red lights. The city also offers tax incentives for residents who
commute by bike, and for employers who provide services such as bike parking
and showers. There are phone apps for route-finding and reporting trouble
spots. And it's easy to mix and match biking with other modes of transport:
You can bring your bike on the train at no charge, and taxis are required to
have bike racks.
The biggest whip that drives people away from cars and onto bikes is
probably the sky-high cost of gasoline - a gallon of gas cost about $8.50
when I visited in July. Of course, the 180-percent tax
<http://www.copenhagenize.com/2012/10/danish-180-tax-on-cars-is-rather.html>
that the Danish government levies on car purchases hurts plenty, too.
(Denmark has pledged to wean itself from fossil fuels
<http://denmark.dk/en/green-living/strategies-and-policies/independent-from-
fossil-fuels-by-2050/> completely by 2050.)
But the city has its own whips, first among them being the steady whittling
away of car parking in the city center, combined with an increase in the
cost of remaining parking spots. Narrowing or eliminating car lanes to make
room for more bike tracks - a trend that seems to make Brøndom Bay
especially proud - adds further disincentive for drivers. So does turning
streets into bike parking lots outside of train stations.
And the tambourines? On Queen Louise's Bridge, the city has installed a bike
counter that ticks off the number of cyclists that have passed each day,
giving riders a sense that they're part of a movement, not just lost in the
crowd. At many intersections, the city has installed footrests for cyclists
waiting at red lights emblazoned with friendly messages
<http://www.copenhagenize.com/2010/01/holding-on-to-cyclists-in-copenhagen.h
tml> like, "Hi, cyclist! Rest your foot here ... and thank you for cycling
in the city." But the most innovative of all is the "bike butler" program:
brightly clad city workers who tidy up the bike parking areas, and will even
do minor repairs while the owners of said bikes are away.
It's a remarkable collection of policies and incentives - but it's unlikely
to be enough to get 50 percent of residents cycle commuting by 2015.
Officials are already downplaying those numbers, in fact. The goal, you see,
was predicated on another big whip: The government planned to put a
"congestion ring
<http://cphpost.dk/news/local/congestion-charge-%E2%80%9Cnot-perfect%E2%80%9
D-%E2%80%93-its-coming-anyway> " around the city center, like London's
<http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_congestion_charge> , and charge drivers
to bring cars into the city. But that was scrapped
<http://cphpost.dk/news/politics/congestion-charge-proposal-ends-rubbish-bin
> last year in the face of opposition from suburban mayors and residents
who learned that they would likely not get the major reductions in train and
bus fares into the city that they'd been promised.
Still, city officials hold to the official goal, even if it looks
increasingly unrealistic. Ultimately, Brøndom Bay explains, the challenge is
one of building a bike culture that gets people to change their habits
without sacrificing their current lifestyle. For the über-stylish Danes,
that might require a reordering of morning priorities: "You need good, close
bike infrastructure - and you also need to bring your mascara to work."
During my short trip to Denmark last month, I spent a good amount of time on
a heavy, black cruiser bike rented from my hotel, exploring the city of
Copenhagen and surrounds in search of lessons in bike culture,
infrastructure, and policy that I could bring back home to the states. Some
of my most productive time, however, was spent out of the saddle sitting at
sidewalk cafés, talking to designers, planners, and policy wonks. Also, I
spent loads of time drinking copious amounts of beer and/or coffee, and
watching the beautiful people pedal by - most of them on "granny bikes" like
mine.
I spent an entire afternoon at one café with Mikael Colville-Andersen, the
CEO of Copenhagenize Design Co <http://www.copenhagenize.com/> .
Colville-Andersen makes a living as a provocateur and a preacher, spreading
the gospel of biking to cities around the world. He makes a strong case that
we should take our streets back from the traffic engineers, and instead
design them with people in mind <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pX8zZdLw7cs>
. He also says Americans need to take bicycling back from the bike tribes -
the hipsters, speedsters, and bike messengers - and make them as ordinary as
the black granny bikes on Copenhagen's streets.
"Subcultures are actually a hindrance to building cycling,"
Colville-Andersen said. "From an American perspective, I think you need to
get the subcultures to shut up."
I spent an hour on another afternoon drinking gypsy-brewed beer with Kasey
Klimes, an urban data specialist with Gehl Architects
<http://www.gehlarchitects.com/> , the firm that New York City Mayor Mike
Bloomberg hired to help make his city more bike friendly. Klimes did a study
on Queen Louise's Bridge, one of Copenhagen's main bike thoroughfares. After
the city doubled the width of the bike tracks on the bridge and made other
improvements, bike traffic increased by a third. Car traffic, meanwhile,
dropped by half. Forty percent of those drivers found other routes, Klimes
found, but 10 percent "just disappeared." Apparently they decided that
riding the bus or biking was a better option.
And in fact, when asked why they bike rather than drive, the great majority
of Copenhageners respond that it's simply the quickest, most convenient way
to get around. Health and economic concerns are factors, too. Protecting the
environment? Hardly a blip on their radar:
(Copenhagen city officials have worked hard to make biking easy. For details
on their methods, which one planner described as "the carrot, the whip, and
the tambourine," check out part 2
<http://grist.org/cities/spin-cycle-copenhagens-rise-fall-and-rise-again-to-
cycling-supremacy/> in this series.)
On my last day in Copenhagen, I spent a few hours at yet another sidewalk
café, talking with two fellow Americans who are working to get more people
riding bicycles back home - and have some significant cash to throw at the
problem, thanks to the enlightened self-interest of companies that make and
sell bikes.
Zach Vanderkooy is the international programs officer for Bikes Belong
<http://www.bikesbelong.org/> , a Boulder, Colo.-based nonprofit that gets
its funding from U.S. bicycle manufacturers, distributors, and retailers.
Randy Neufeld is director of the SRAM Cycling Fund
<http://www.sramcyclingfund.org/index.html> , a philanthropic arm of the
company that makes Rock Shox and other bike components. Their main focus
these days? Make American streets look more like the ones in Copenhagen.
Vanderkooy and Neufeld believe that there's a large chunk of the American
public that is poised and ready to bike. They cited work by Roger Geller,
the bicycle coordinator for the city of Portland, Ore., who argues that
fully 60 percent of the city's population is curious about biking, but they
don't do it. Why? "It's dangerous."
Here's a chart breaking breaking Portland's populace into the bikers, the
non-bikers, and the yet-to-be convinced. If you want the thinking behind all
this, Geller has written a whole report on the subject
<http://www.portlandoregon.gov/transportation/44597?a=237507> [PDF].
The key to moving people from the yellow "interested but concerned" zone to
the green "enthused & confident" zone? Get rid of the fear factor,
Vanderkooy and Neufeld said. That is, create a cityscape where they feel
safe riding a bike. Traffic calming devices, neighborhood greenways, and
bike trails all help, Neufeld said. "But the missing tool in the U.S. is
protected bike lanes."
By "protected," he meant bike lanes that are separated from car traffic by
more than a flimsy white line. Here's how they do it in Copenhagen:
They've put a line of car parking spaces - and an occasional tree - between
the cyclists and the cars. It may seem like a small thing, but it makes an
incredible difference. Rather than riding in constant fear of being clipped
or flattened by a passing motorist, you're free to tootle along, cigarette
in one hand, cellphone in the other. (OK, don't do that - but the Danes
do.)
Cities from San Francisco to Washington, D.C., have installed protected or
separated bike lanes in the past few years. Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel has
vowed to install 100 miles of them during his four-year term. And Vanderkooy
and Neufeld are hoping to make it spread further. Vanderkooy's group, with
funding from the SHRAM Cycling Fund, is sponsoring the Green Lane Project
<http://greenlaneproject.org/> , a campaign that works with a half-dozen
U.S. cities at a time to create protected bike lanes.
This is all fine and good, but I had to ask: Is biking in U.S. cities just a
fad, fueled by a young generation that can't afford cars?
Neufeld, a veteran bicycle activist who founded Chicago's Active
Transportation Alliance, doesn't think so. He pointed to "megatrends" like a
disinterest in driving among millennials
<http://grist.org/transportation/2011-12-27-driving-has-lost-its-cool-for-yo
ung-americans/> , the decline in overall driving miles even as the recession
has lifted <http://grist.org/news/youngs-kill-car-culture/> , and the rising
price of gasoline. Those trends are unlikely to turn around any time soon,
he said. "None of this smacks as 'fad' to me."
Instead, Neufeld thinks that we're seeing an unprecedented opportunity to
change American transportation culture for the better. "This is the big
one," he said. "There's never been change at this pace. Bicycling has never
been this popular."
And for U.S. cities that have embraced bicycling in recent years, it's not
really about bikes, Vanderkooy said. "It's about attracting young people and
talent to your city. It's about better economic performance, economic
health, and public safety. Mayors have begun to embrace biking as purely a
rational act, to make their cities competitive."
With that, Neufeld looked at his watch, his eyes lighting up like a kid who
woke up on Christmas morning and found a shiny new bike under the tree: "You
guys want to go watch rush hour on the bridge?"
He was talking about Queen Louise's Bridge, of course, that shining,
squeaking emblem of Copenhagen's rebirth as a bicycling city. And watch we
did, joining the throngs of locals lining the railings.
I woke up at 3:30 the next morning, still discombobulated by the time
change, and decided to go for a run. The sky was starting to get light as I
ran past Queen Louise's Bridge, and the crazy Copenhageners were still at
it. Clusters of young people lined the sidewalks, cheering bicyclists as
they pedaled past. One group had a portable sound system - in the front of a
cargo bike, of course - and was throwing an impromptu dance party. Couples
sat on the railing, looking east, waiting for the sunrise.
As the sun crested the skyline, a cheer went up, and the people on the
bridge slowly collected their things, mounted their bikes, and started home.
And so did I - I had an airplane to catch.
Green Action Centre and Bike to the Future invite you to join us for a
local viewing of the following APBP webinar at the EcoCentre (3rd floor,
303 Portage Ave). This will be followed by group discussion of local
applications.* *Detailed description provided below.
*Wed, August 21st | 2:00-3:00 p.m.*
RSVPs are appreciated but not necessary. Hope to see you then!
cheers,
Beth
(204) 925-3772
*
* * * * **
Getting Better Data for Better Decisions: Improving Data Collections and
Outcomes
Collecting data is of critical importance, but what we do with data is
often the key to making a difference. This webinar explores the current
state of the practice of bicycle and pedestrian data collection, delivers
an overview of research on automated counting technologies, and provides
examples of using data to reveal unexpected patterns and connections in
facility use.
The session includes a preview of the findings of NCHRP 07-19, "Methods and
Technologies for Collecting Pedestrian and Bicycle Volume Data,” and
thought-provoking case studies from Arlington County, Virginia (a leader in
the national effort to develop better methods for collecting and using
bicycle and pedestrian counts to understand travel behavior) that highlight
the use of data to calculate exposure data for safety projects, argue for
speed reduction, negotiate for pedestrian-friendly development, and more.
Gather colleagues, clients and decision makers to view this webinar and
begin planning your new data collection program.
*Presenters*:
- Tony Hull, Toole Design Group
- David Patton, Arlington County, Virginia
- Frank Proulx, SafeTREC, Berkeley
Winnipeg's soul got buried
Pedestrian-free iconic intersection cold, uninviting
By: Bartley Kives
http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/local/winnipegs-soul-got-buried-219526071.…
An eight-lane intersection, barred to the public by barricades under a
37-year deal to push pedestrians underground, cannot be considered a "great
place" by anyone who loves cities.
Great urban spaces are places where human beings congregate. Remove people
from the streetscape and all you're left with is concrete and asphalt.
That's why there's no shortage of subversive genius behind a bid to
designate Portage and Main -- off limits to humans for decades -- the
greatest street in the nation, as part of a Great Places in Canada contest
run by the Canadian Institute of Planners.
Back in the early days of the Bill Norrie administration, Portage and Main
was barricaded as part of the deal to build the skyscraper now known as the
Commodity Exchange Tower as well as Winnipeg Square, the underground
pedestrian mall.
Whoever nominated Portage and Main as a 'great place' must have a
fantastic sense of humour -- or a knack for inspiring outrage
It was 1979, and Winnipeg was starting to suffer severely from a peculiar
form of urban psychosis -- a belief in the revitalizing powers of downtown
megaprojects.
A decade earlier, entire blocks of northeastern downtown were razed to make
room for the Manitoba Centennial Centre and the Civic Centre complex. This
upgraded Winnipeg's institutional infrastructure, but whittled away at
downtown's pedestrian streetscape, as small-scale buildings were replaced
by concrete plazas.
Unconvinced this was a bad idea, Winnipeg grew addicted to the magical
powers of the megaproject. So down went an entire block bounded by Main
Street, Portage Avenue, Fort Street and Graham Avenue. In its place, we
received a nice skyscraper, a weird underground mall and the roots of a
weather-protected walkway system designed to vacuum away what remained of
Portage and Main's remaining pedestrians.
It's now been 34 years since the barricades went up. Entire generations
have been raised knowing that getting across that intersection without
heading underground involves defying the edict of Gandalf: "Thou Shalt Not
Pass."
Portage and Main is no longer a streetscape, at least in the conventional
sense. It's simply a multi-lane intersection where traffic signals maximize
the movement of motor-vehicle traffic.
Sure, there remains an idea of "Portage and Main" as the theoretical centre
of the city. But that's a purely abstract sort of place name, used in the
same manner international reporters use the term "Moscow" to describe the
political machine at the heart of Russia.
The real Portage and Main is a cold and uninviting place. At the southwest
corner, you face a wall of the Commodity Exchange Tower complex --
Scotiabank windowglass frosted over with a Winnipeg Jets banner. At the
southeast corner stands the stately, 100-year-old Bank of Montreal
building, whose front entrance is seldom used.
At the northeast corner stands the Richardson Building, whose wide and
slightly more inviting plaza is adorned with Tree Children, a sculpture by
Leo Mol. The office tower now known as 201 Portage Ave. graces the
northwest corner, offering only a glass facade toward the actual
intersection.
On a sunny Tuesday morning in August, only one person stood, sat or walked
at any of these four corners. Whoever nominated Portage and Main as a
"great place" must have a fantastic sense of humour -- or a knack for
inspiring outrage.
Shortly before departing office in 2004, former mayor Glen Murray launched
a design contest in the hopes of reopening the intersection in some way. A
resulting scheme received the nominal support of six out of seven Portage
and Main property owners, but died on the vine in 2006. That's when current
Mayor Sam Katz declined to endorse a plan to replace the barricades with
movable bollards, which would have been opened on evenings and weekends.
Under the terms of the original agreement, the intersection is slated to
remain closed until 2016. Even if it reopens in 2017, pedestrians trained
to treat it like a minefield will not suddenly find themselves attracted to
the intersection.
Genuine public spaces draw people to them. Portage and Main keeps them away.
It would be lovely to live in Winnipeg where "Portage and Main" is an
actual place along with an idea. Instead, the streetlights change like
clockwork, ushering cars through a city centre that is quite literally
without a soul.
bartley.kives(a)freepress.mb.ca
*Is it time for Winnipeggers to come up into the sunlight? Should Portage
and Main be open to pedestrians? Join the conversation in the comments
below. [
http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/local/winnipegs-soul-got-buried-219526071.…
]
*
*Republished from the Winnipeg Free Press print edition August 14, 2013 B1*
http://globalnews.ca/news/778573/pressure-building-to-reopen-portage-and-ma…
Pressure building to reopen Portage and Main to pedestrians
[image: Lorraine_personalities
220x260px]<http://globalnews.ca/author/lorraine-nickel/>
By Lorraine Nickel <http://globalnews.ca/author/lorraine-nickel/>
Reporter/Anchor
WINNIPEG — Portage and Main is famous as Canada’s windiest corner and the
heart of downtown Winnipeg but for 34 years, something’s been missing.
“Portage and Main which was, it still probably is, the symbolic heart of
the city has become a place for cars, not a place for people,” said Prof.
Richard Milgrom, the head of the department of city planning at the
University of Manitoba.
For decades, people crossed Portage Avenue and Main Street freely. Then in
1979, the city signed a contract with area businesses that closed the
intersection to pedestrians for 40 years and built the underground
concourse.
The contract expires in six years and key players are talking about plans
to reopen the famous intersection to pedestrians.
“85 per cent of our BIZ members would like to see Portage and Main
reopened. Part of what makes downtown vibrant and excited is the ability
for people just to walk around,” said Stefano Grande of the Downtown BIZ.
Some city councillors are on board but say discussions haven’t started at
city hall yet.
“I like the idea of putting people on Portage and Main. You could do it on
a gradual basis, like starting at six or on weekends,” said St. Boniface
Coun. Dan Vandal.
“I would love to have that happen somehow,” said River Heights Coun. John
Orlikow. “I know there’s issues down below with some of the shopkeepers.”
To take down the barricades, all the property owners on the famous corner
must first agree.
The Bank of Montreal and Creswin Properties (owners of the office tower at
201 Portage Ave.) want it opened.
But the Richardson Centre “wants things to stay the same” and Artis REIT,
the owner of the underground shops of Winnipeg Square, said “it’s premature
to discuss the idea.”
A lot has changed downtown since the 1970s, with the MTS Centre being
built, several new condo and apartment developments going up and the Human
Rights Museum slated to open next year.
“The downtown in the last seven years has become a much more vibrant
place,” said Jino Distasio, urban studies professor at the University of
Winnipeg.
But it’s not that simple, he admits.
“There will be some growing pains. It’ll be some frustrated drivers who are
going to have to wait on a corner that they’ve been able to speed through.”
Former Mayor Glen Murray tried to open the intersection in 2002, asking
architects to design a safe pedestrian crossing, but the 40-year agreement
derailed those plans.
“I’m disappointed it didn’t happen because I think it was critical for the
city,” said Murray. “You can’t find a major city in the world anymore that
has blocked off a street, never mind its main corner.”
So will seeing people crossing Portage and Main remain a distant memory, or
is there a new future for this famous intersection?
“I think it has to happen if our downtown is going to become a vibrant
place, an exciting place,” said Grande.
http://globalnews.ca/news/778573/pressure-building-to-reopen-portage-and-ma…