Stuart Murdoch of the band Belle
& Sebastian once said that being able to explain what you do to a cab
driver was the ultimate sign of success. I experienced this very thing on the
way to the airport in London, when my very chipper Granadian-English Swift car
driver declared bike lanes a ‘major problem’. After having spent two weeks in Netherlands
observing their transportation system, it was MORE THAN EASY to formulate my
response to him. Imagine, I said, that all the single occupancy vehicles you
see on the roads every day were gone, their solo drivers having made the choice
to ride a bike or utilize an incredibly comprehensive train network. Once there
are fewer cars on the roads, I emphasized, you as an ‘On Demand’ driver will be
able to navigate the roads so much more efficiently and quickly. But, those cars
will not disappear until the people driving them have access to quality
alternatives, and a bike lane is a first step in creating such an option. Amazingly,
the driver seemed to hear me, and I may have even detected a willingness to change
in his opinion of bike lanes in his eyes.
I came away with many great specific
observations from the Sustainable Transport in the Netherlands trip, but also a
handful of major takeaways. Firstly, the incredible general traffic calming
engineering we witnessed in Holland would not function were it not for the fact
that the cycling network coupled with the very efficient and comprehensive
public transportation systems offer solid and useable alternatives to driving
that are practical for everyday living. The dramatically reduced overall number
of cars on the road was striking, and while the traffic calmed roads could be
assigned a causal effect on reducing traffic to some degree, perhaps,
ultimately the vehicles only truly disappeared because they had been made
obsolete by the wide range of viable options that were more efficient, economic,
and simply more appealing.
Secondly, it gave me hope to see
clear evidence of the fact that the shift from a car centric culture was a
PROCESS that took place over the course of many years, and that the engineering
solutions evolved over that span of time. Changing an auto centric culture is
not something that is done quickly, and despite current day Holland being a masterclass
on this very thing, the knowledge that this was not always the case means that,
if given the opportunity, we can take steps in this direction here in the
United States.
The Dutch also work to embed
cycling into their culture through early cycling education for elementary and
middle school children. Thus, even adults who drive cars daily are also
cyclists, and have a thorough understanding of the rules of the road for both modes.
The bike is an easy choice for the many short, under 3-mile trips that we in
the US reach for the car keys to take. Cycling is a normal, everyday part of
life in Holland, not the domain of enthusiasts who chose to brave angry motorized
traffic and busy roads with no space for anyone other than people driving cars.
A final important takeaway for me
was the general sense of personal safety in the rural and unknown-to-me parts
of the Netherlands. I went for one 70-mile solo ride into the Green Heart of
Holland, and I was truly unburdened by concern as to whether I was riding in a
safe space. Never was I truly alone on the bike paths. The variety of riders
out on that lovely Sunday was wide, young families, older retirees, in addition
to many fellow road riders, both solo and in groups. So many locals were out
taking in the fantastic weather and country scenery, there were more than
enough ‘eyes on the bike paths’, so to speak. My route was somewhat meandering
and I managed to take many wrong turns (which is testament to the sheer number
of bike paths EVERYWHERE, even out in the country), and at one point it
occurred to me that in the US, even in the rural parts of the county I reside
in, the feeling of being able to just WANDER for 70 miles is not something that
I am lucky enough to possess. Here in Orange County, North Carolina, if I put those
sorts of miles between myself and Carrboro, I will end up in some remote
corners of the countryside, where there (a) aren’t many folks on bikes period,
and (b) where, as a female alone, I wouldn’t necessarily feel 100% safe being
on my own without the protection of a car. Recreational riding in many rural
areas in the US takes riders into disputed territory, where cyclists are
frequently subjected to speeding drivers who are frustrated by their mere
presence on the roads. While I am comfortable exploring the further corners of
North Carolina with a riding partner or three, it does not feel safe alone. In
comparison, in the Netherlands, I was empowered to simply follow my nose, and it
took me to some gorgeous spots I never would have seen had I been fearful.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/yonderwesty/
POST SCRIPT
As I settle back into life in Carrboro, I realize that the two weeks taking a deep dive into Dutch road design will continue to reverberate through my thoughts for some time. Driving around my hometown (yes driving, because my son’s camp is not accessible by bike/bus), looking at the wide roads and multi-lane thoroughfares, firstly I want to pull out a measuring wheel and find out how egregiously wide the streets are, and secondly, I feel resolute in the knowledge that, as we witnessed more than once in Delft, the many speed limit signs, speed feedback devices, etc are NOTHING compared to truly ‘demoting’ the road. Franklin St in Chapel Hill, for example, has a posted speed of 30mph, and yet it’s a two-lane road with a turning lane. Yet I look down at my speedometer and am comfortably going 40mph; even as someone who is conscious of speed and traffic calming, I find it difficult to travel that the posted speed limit. Thinking back to Ruys de Beerenbrouckstraat, which is such a shining example of how a street can be transformed for the better, I picture it overlaid onto Franklin St, and contemplate how effective it would be not only in terms of traffic calming, but also how NICE the entire area surrounding it would feel, how in all likelihood more pedestrians would be motivated to walk down it, how more cyclists would feel comfortable commuting along it, and what a remarkable improvement to the livability of the area it would be. And I reflect on the fact that when we bring up this sort of treatment here in the US, many people point to the vast cultural differences between Dutch and Americans, and how their style of transportation infrastructure would not work here because our mindset is so different. While I might have concurred to a large degree up until a few weeks ago, now I completely disagree. We can design for what we want, and if we create a street like Beerenbrouckstraat here, the outcomes will be slower motorized vehicle traffic, improved walkability, safe and comfortable passage for people riding bikes, just like in Holland.
As I settle back into life in Carrboro, I realize that the two weeks taking a deep dive into Dutch road design will continue to reverberate through my thoughts for some time. Driving around my hometown (yes driving, because my son’s camp is not accessible by bike/bus), looking at the wide roads and multi-lane thoroughfares, firstly I want to pull out a measuring wheel and find out how egregiously wide the streets are, and secondly, I feel resolute in the knowledge that, as we witnessed more than once in Delft, the many speed limit signs, speed feedback devices, etc are NOTHING compared to truly ‘demoting’ the road. Franklin St in Chapel Hill, for example, has a posted speed of 30mph, and yet it’s a two-lane road with a turning lane. Yet I look down at my speedometer and am comfortably going 40mph; even as someone who is conscious of speed and traffic calming, I find it difficult to travel that the posted speed limit. Thinking back to Ruys de Beerenbrouckstraat, which is such a shining example of how a street can be transformed for the better, I picture it overlaid onto Franklin St, and contemplate how effective it would be not only in terms of traffic calming, but also how NICE the entire area surrounding it would feel, how in all likelihood more pedestrians would be motivated to walk down it, how more cyclists would feel comfortable commuting along it, and what a remarkable improvement to the livability of the area it would be. And I reflect on the fact that when we bring up this sort of treatment here in the US, many people point to the vast cultural differences between Dutch and Americans, and how their style of transportation infrastructure would not work here because our mindset is so different. While I might have concurred to a large degree up until a few weeks ago, now I completely disagree. We can design for what we want, and if we create a street like Beerenbrouckstraat here, the outcomes will be slower motorized vehicle traffic, improved walkability, safe and comfortable passage for people riding bikes, just like in Holland.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/yonderwesty/
Comments
Post a Comment