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.