I'm feeling suicidal: "No helmets, no problem: how the Dutch created a casual biking culture."

It's genuinely hard to read articles like this. All that intelligence and common sense, and then I look outside, and ... you have the nerve to ask me why I drink.

No helmets, no problem: how the Dutch created a casual biking culture, by David Roberts (Vox)

A chat with the authors of a new book on cycling in the Netherlands.

There's so much to quote, so might as well snip to the conclusion.

David Roberts
Some US cities have had to deal with an anti-bike lobby. Does that kind of sentiment or political force even exist at all in the Netherlands any more? Is there anyone pushing back?

Chris Bruntlett
Not that I’m aware. We had conversations with politicians there and they made it perfectly clear: Even the right-wing in the Netherlands has to support more spending on cycling.

David Roberts
Because of public pressure, public opinion?

Chris Bruntlett
Exactly. It’s not a tenable or realistic position to win an election when probably 80 percent of the population cycles at least once a week.

That’s not to say they aren’t also undermining the cause by building car parking and the like.

David Roberts
So, pro-bike is settled, but anti-car maybe is not?

Chris Bruntlett
The Dutch still love their cars. They drive miles and miles, as much as neighboring countries. They’re having the same conversations as we are around the allocation of space, because they built all this space for cycling and it started to fill up. Now they’re trying to push for more space for cycling, and the exact same argument is being made, around loss of parking, loss of vehicle lanes. Here, we’re just arguing for any space.

David Roberts
So it never ends? Every bit you take away from cars is a battle, forever?

Chris Bruntlett
Exactly.

The Arnhem-Nijmegen Cycle Superhighway, and fighting climate change by battling autocentrism.

This video makes me want to cry with joy (it's been far too long), then lash out with anger.

You go over there and see what's readily possible in the sense of co-existence.

You come back here and jostle for space with a semi rig on a cowardly Rosenbarger sharrow. Fuck autocentrism.

Biking the Arnhem-Nijmegen Cycle Superhighway from STREETFILMS on Vimeo.

Unless you live under a rock and don't ride a bike, you know that the Dutch have some of the best bicycle infra design on this Earth of ours.

While attending the Velo-city 2017 conference in the Netherlands I got to ride (3 times!) the Arnhem-Nijmegen Cycle Superhighway. Imagine being able to bike 18km (about 11 miles) between two medium-sized cities in your country and not have to stop once for cars?

Then there's this.

"To fight climate change, cities also need to fight personal cars, and all the infrastructure they require."

To Fight Climate Change, Cities Need to Battle Cars, by Henry Grabar (Slate via CityLab)

It sounds obvious. But it requires changing the way we build.

Mayors can fund transit, build bus and bike lanes, end free parking, and reform building codes that require it. (Though they mostly don't.) But ultimately, the only way to combat American automobile dependency is to reform the way we build, and in particular, to help avoid low-density settlement patterns that make it impractical or impossible for Americans to get anywhere without a personal car.

Next, connectivity for all? "We are not only building bridges, we are biking bridges."

The late Kevin Richards, bridging the Czech Republic, 2006.

My old friend John (original designer of the NABC keg-aloft logo) recently has been writing about bicycling for LEO. His thoughts about bikes crossing bridges bring to mind my own merry band's experiences in Europe from 2000 - 2008.

Once you've seen what a rational bicycling infrastructure network looks like, the situation on the new East End Long Dead Overused White Guys Bridge (what, we ran out of assassinated presidents to name it?) is cast in sharp and sad relief. There, a multi-use path essentially leads to nothing on either side, a far cry from what I've observed in places like the Netherlands and Germany.

In these countries, transportation is far less of a zero-sum game, where anything "given" to a cyclist or walker is viewed by the intemperate among us as being "taken away" from autos.  Rather, especially in the Netherlands, space for cars, bikers and walkers exists side by side.

The horror!

Given that the most widely reported controversy on the new bridge to date has been complaints from walkers over lack of parking spaces (think about that), I feel like screaming that whatever the idiocy of the financing, we shouldn't build this or any other bridge solely as a means of carrying cars as they move back and forth to ultimate destinations. This notion of connectivity should apply to cyclists and walkers, too.

Where and how does one continue the journey, having reached the other side?

Why We Ride: Biking Bridges, by John Mahorney (LEO Weekly)

Unless you’re spinning away in your pain cave, or you’ve been riding out of town for the holidays, then you may have heard about the opening of the brand-new Lewis and Clark Bridge on Dec. 18. This beautiful piece of multi-modal infrastructure is the most-inclusive, publicly-funded road project I’ve seen in our area. It is the first highway and bridge project to receive an Envision Platinum Award from the Institute for Sustainable Infrastructure. Among its sustainable construction practices is a wide, two-way bicycle and pedestrian path connecting Prospect to Utica, Indiana.

When I think about cycling to and from Kentucky and Indiana, I can’t help but remember all the other bridges we’ve crossed over the years. Adventurous, perilous, crowded, abandoned, remote and downright dangerous for the commuter and recreational cyclist alike. They are necessary. They are convenient. Some could be better. Some can go to hell. Some could just finally open someday.

Solar roads, shifts in thinking ... and paying attention.

Keeler, late of the at-large council race, sent me a link on Tuesday morning. A chat broke out. First, here's the story.

The World’s First Solar Road Is Producing More Energy Than Expected, by Katie Valentine (Think Progress)

In its first six months of existence, the world’s first solar road is performing even better than developers thought.

The road, which opened in the Netherlands in November of last year, has produced more than 3,000 kilowatt-hours of energy — enough to power a single small household for one year, according to Al-Jazeera America.

“If we translate this to an annual yield, we expect more than the 70kwh per square meter per year,” Sten de Wit, a spokesman for the project — dubbed SolaRoad — told Al Jazeera America. “We predicted [this] as an upper limit in the laboratory stage. We can therefore conclude that it was a successful first half year.”

De Wit said in a statement that he didn’t “expect a yield as high as this so quickly.”

The 230-foot stretch of road, which is embedded with solar cells that are protected by two layers of safety glass, is built for bike traffic, a use that reflects the road’s environmentally-friendly message and the cycling-heavy culture of the Netherlands. However, the road could withstand heavier traffic if needed, according to one of the project’s developers.

I replied, "I don't see that on the Board of Works agenda today -- great link."

Adam: "Additional incentive for bike lanes. Not only will it reduce emissions from cars but also renewable energy for lights, homes, etc."

Roger: "Agreed. It's important for us to discuss innovations like this even if it appears unlikely that we'd ever actively consider them -- unless, of course, there is a fundamental shift in thinking."

Adam: "Well, the fundamental shift in thinking needs to only happen at the local government level in New Albany. I think it's possible. If we elect people who are capable of critical thinking then our large projects will be analyzed better. Silver Street Park is a great example of a project that could have been ran by solar panels installed above the facility while only costing 2% of the total budget. Saving taxpayer dollars while completing city level projects should be a no-brainer. It's a shame a lot of the administration doesn't pay attention to things like this."

8. Belgian Beercycling 2000: Belgian beercycling 2000: The final beercycle ride, and postscripts.

It was the year 2000, the anticipated Euro currency conversion was around the corner but had yet to occur, and for a final day of rental beercycling on a sunny Friday in Brugge, we chose to spend a few spare guilders in the Netherlands.

At first glance, it may seem that the Netherlands is too far away from Belgium to make for a comfortable day trip, and in fact much of it is, but a non-contiguous slice of Dutch territory lies on the south side of the waterway known as the Westerschelde, or the mouth of the Schelde River as it leaves Antwerp for the ocean. This bit of the Netherlands is easily accessible by bicycle paths aimed east and north from Brugge, passing through the popular tourist village of Damme, along idyllic tree lined canals and through manure-caked working farms reminiscent of Breughel paintings.

Certainly it was the easiest of the trip’s rides, both because we’d developed legs (and posteriors) strong enough to navigate for longer periods of time, and owing to the perfectly flat nature of the terrain in the northernmost extent of Flanders. Hills and grades are almost non-existent, and the route is strewn with signs and so impeccably marked that we briefly became lost, anyway, perhaps stemming from the biggest impediment to progress during the ride: Too much DT on the Huyghe brewery tour the previous day, and too many post-tour restoratives at the famed t’Brugs Beertje specialty beer café upon our Thursday evening return to Brugge.

At a particularly confusing crossroads, a tractor-borne native pointed straight, and within minutes we were standing outside a café in the Dutch town of Sluis, and I was extracting a handful of colorful leftover guilders from a previous visit to the Netherlands in 1998 in preparation for the best we could do under the circumstances, a round of Heinekens and nibbles for all.

Since the food included herring, my day was complete.

After lunch, the ride continued to the northwest. For all of us, it was a first opportunity to experience the fabled infrastructure available to cyclists in the Netherlands. Paved paths follow alongside all roads, and clearly delineated lanes guide cyclists through urban areas. Sometimes there are intersections for cyclists that shadow the automotive ones yards away, and complete with their own sets of stop lights.

Soon we were back in Belgium, skirting just south of Knokke-Heist on the coast, and coming to the second objective: The sea and a convenient beach at Zeebrugge for a few minutes of sand and sea spray before turning due south along an industrialized canal for the ride back into Brugge and a second consecutive evening at the Beertje.

There would be a third, at the end of the full Saturday remaining to us, but the shared consensus was that the first-time visitors in the group were intent on sightseeing and shopping in the lovely if tourist-laden city of Brugge, so the rental bikes were returned and the cycling segment of the 2000 beercycling fact-finding mission concluded.

Except for Kevin Lowber, who had met us in Poperinge, the group had put in roughly 125 miles altogether, with perhaps half of that coming in two rides (Cassel and Sluis) near the end. In the touring years to come, there would be times when several of us approached 100 miles in a day, fully laden, but given our neophyte status in 2000, the inconsistent architecture of the rental bikes and the demands of food and drink, there was much to celebrate.

The journey was winding down. On Sunday morning, Kevin Richards, Buddy Sandbach and I boarded a train in Brugge and set out for Leuven, an old university city on the eastern side of Brussels that lies near the national airport where Kevin and Buddy would be departing Belgium for America on Monday morning. We’d booked a room in Leuven with the prospect of arriving and hopefully having enough time to attend a performance by the rock band Pearl Jam at the Werchter pop/rock festival taking place nearby, but Eddie Vedder’s group had canceled owing to tragic occurrences at another fest in Roskilde, Denmark a few days previous. Instead of concert-going, it looked instead to be a relaxed, “free” last day.

The commute from Brugge to Leuven hardly would have been noteworthy had not Buddy’s eyes (and wallet) been somewhat bigger than his luggage. He spent the afternoon and evening in Brugge frantically scrounging rare Belgian ales from various sales outlets, and broke away resolutely early from the closing ceremonies at Beertje to return to the hotel and find some way of packing them all.

There we revelers found him well after midnight, with bottles, toiletries and underwear heaped down the side of corridor, agonizing over the proper way to insure the safety of his souvenirs while flying home. Luckily, he managed to succeed in this aim, removing only a handful of bottles for ballast-lightening consumption in the process. Less fortunately, there were too few hours for sleeping, and as he realized come morning, a stupendous weight gain in baggage. It should suffice to say that splurging on a cab ride to the train station was much appreciated.

Still, even spared the burden of a cross-town walk, Buddy had three separate pieces of quite heavy luggage, and upon exiting the train in Leuven, he was not happy to discover that the station there is of archaic design, requiring the ascent of numerous steps to reach a passageway crossing over the tracks, not beneath them as is the case most of the time. With the assistance of two passers-by who evidently took pity at Buddy’s plight (or were eager to move him out of the way so they’d reach their train on time), he made it up, down, and over, collapsing into a waiting taxi for the ride to the hotel.

Kevin and I explored Leuven, visited its brewpub, noted the presence of the industrial Stella Artois beer factory, mounted a hill for a look at the chateau originally belonging to Leuven’s local aristocrats, and eventually settled into handy café chairs to recap the first beercycling trip with a few final rounds of Belgian ale.

Verily, the beercycling cat had been let out of the bag, the touring genie released from the bottle, and a suitable tone set for future adventures. We’d hatched our Belgian scheme while seated at Polly’s Freeze, a local ice cream institution back in Indiana, and now, after achieving the goal, we were able to offer benedictions over Chimay and beefsteak in Leuven.

It only seemed natural to echo Bob Reed’s tip-off toast:

“Here’s to us … may we never quarrel or fuss … but if by chance we should disagree … &*^%$ you, and here’s to me!

The Big Four Bridge is rather Dutch, as we all should be.

Given the level of equity afforded multiple transportation modes on Dutch streets, the Netherlands is often used by NAC and many others as an example of more sensible urban planning and design. Just as often, even those who recognize the practical value of such planning and design lament that, though it's a good idea, it just can't be done here. It's as if we believe the Dutch are somehow inherently superior and thus managed to avoid the negative impact of car-centric design altogether via some sort of secret, a priori knowledge passed genetically from mother to daughter. That sort of "can't do it here" pronouncement, however, says far more about us than it ever did about the Dutch.

Indeed, the Netherlands, like cities and countries around the world and certainly our own, initially pursued auto-centric design in its recovery and rebuilding from World War II. Below is a 1960s street scene from Assen, a small city of 67,000 in the northeastern Netherlands. It may as well be New Albany.

It was around the time of this photo that the Dutch began comprehending the problems they had inadvertently created for themselves, the same problems encountered in New Albany and the Louisville metro every day. What started as localized response in several towns and cities - they moved household furniture into the streets to reclaim them for people in some places - in the 70s became a national movement perhaps best exemplified by the name of a prominent activist group: Stop the Child Murder.

By the time I first visited some 20 years later in the mid-90s, the Netherlands to which we now point had largely already been coaxed from what some there, too, had believed to be streets too far gone. Below is a shot of the same street in 2007, where approximately 9,000 bicycles per day pass through.

I was reminded of this very recent history as a practical rather than miraculous matter while strolling with a childhood friend (and hundreds of others) across the Big Four Bridge last Thursday. It's arguably the most significant piece of public infrastructure in our metro area in decades, again proving that if you simply provide people a reasonable pedestrian and cycling alternative, they will use it here just like in the Netherlands and pretty much everywhere else. Safer, more sustainable, and more vibrant streets and street life - and stronger, more resilient communities - are possible and even probable if we would just approach transportation pragmatically. Acknowledge mistakes and move on.

Though there are design gems aplenty owing to a few decades of experience, the Netherlands is best used not as an example of a very specific planning strategy but as a more general mindset. The infrastructure in the latter photo is more functional, less expensive, and easier to build and maintain than that of the earlier one and, as always, thinking is free. We have more than enough talent and money. We just have to decide that people deserve a chance to adapt and thrive.

More comparison photos and information about "Assen Verandert - Oude en Nieuwe Stadsgezichten" (translates as "Assen Changes - Old and New City Sights"), the book from which they were taken, can be found here.

Water management: Perhaps Tom Galligan understands the word "multifunctional" in this context.

My first glimpse of the Deltaworks was in 1992, and then later, in 2008, we rode bicycles up the coastline, atop several of the giant structures. It's an amazing feat, but as Kimmelman's article suggests, nothing lasts forever.

Going With the Flow, by Michael Kimmelman (New York Times)

... The Netherlands has successfully held back the sea for centuries and thrived. After the North Sea flooded in 1953, devastating the southwest of this country and killing 1,835 people in a single night, Dutch officials devised an ingenious network of dams, sluices and barriers called the Deltaworks. Water management here depends on hard science and meticulous study ...

... (Now) the evidence is leading them to undertake what may seem, at first blush, a counterintuitive approach, a kind of about-face: The Dutch are starting to let the water in. They are contriving to live with nature, rather than fight (what will inevitably be, they have come to realize) a losing battle.

Why? The reality of rising seas and rivers leaves no choice. Sea barriers sufficed half a century ago; but they’re disruptive to the ecology and are built only so high, while the waters keep rising ...

... The local buzzword is “multifunctional.” The Dutch are putting retail and offices on top of new dikes, designing public squares and garages to double as catch basins for rain and floodwater, constructing floating houses and reservoirs that create recreational opportunities.

"The Dutch philosophy is: Cyclists are not dangerous; cars and car drivers are."

Food for thought, from a place where life is not dysfunctional by design.

---

In the Netherlands cyclists are fairly vulnerable, given the chance of injury per kilometre covered. However, in recent decades, the safety of cyclists has steadily improved. The annual number of road accident victims has halved since 1980, both in terms of cyclists and those in cars.

This decline must also be set against the enormous rise in car and bicycle use. In total, both cars and cyclists covered 32% more distance in 2001 than in 1980. Statistically, the number of potential confrontations between cars and bicycles should thus increase exponentially.

Consequently, the decline in danger is spectacular.

More traffic and a high bicycle use do not therefore automatically mean more traffic danger. Besides making a comparison over time, this can also be demonstrated by comparing countries and even Dutch municipalities.

Figure 8 (page 14) clearly shows that the risks for cyclists are lower in countries with a higher bicycle use. The same pattern is visible when Dutch municipalities are compared. In municipalities with high bicycle use, the risk of a cyclist being injured in a traffic accident is on average 35% lower than in municipalities with fewer cyclists.

The same pattern recurs in various studies: the higher the bicycle use, the safer it is for cyclists.

There are a number of explanations for this, involving the conduct of road users and the attention that policy-makers pay to the bicycle.

Firstly, higher bicycle use leads to modified conduct on the part of all traffic participants, because cyclists are more dominant in the overall road picture and because more traffic participants have cycling experience.

Secondly, higher bicycle use often goes together with lower car use, thus reducing the chance of conflict with car traffic.

Thirdly, almost every car driver is also a bicyclist (60% of the Dutch cycle at least three times a week, 80% at least once a week), which implies that car drivers know how cyclists behave.

Finally the policy explanation: high bicycle use creates more support for bicycle policy, so that more is invested in a safer cycling infrastructure.

Something that should not be overlooked in the safety section: Liability.

In some countries, bicycling is seen as causing danger, which sometimes ends up in an anti-cycling policy. The Dutch philosophy is: Cyclists are not dangerous; cars and car drivers are: so car drivers should take the responsibility for avoiding collisions with cyclists. This implies that car drivers are almost always liable when a collision with a bicycle occurs and should adapt their speed when bicycles share the roads with cyclists.

To me, it's the Spacecakes vs. Rioja finale for the World Cup.

My co-conspirator Bluegill says to nix "versus," as we should not have to choose between the two. Indeed, I'm fortunate have visited both Netherlands and Spain on multiple occasions, and can't really make a pick.

One thing I know for sure is that if Spain wins, Pamplona will experience an even larger party than the one currently being held there. That's because the Fiesta of San Fermin, a.k.a, the Running of the Bulls, is concurrent with the World Cup every fourth year. In 1998, Don Barry and I enjoyed a meal of couscous at a North African restaurant in Pamplona, and remained there in the bar to watch France win the final.

It isn't clear to me how the street party could get any larger, but perhaps where there's an excuse to drink even more, there's a way. At the same time, it would be a mistake to bet against the Dutch when it comes to intensity of the potential celebration (or, for that matter, the drowning of sorrows following a loss). Perhaps the only difference between Pamplona and Amsterdam is that in the former, the bulls shooting past the fallen on Monday morning will be flesh and blood, while further north, they'll be jostling for space tonight in the bars, alongside the other denizens of numerous Star Wars cantina scenes.

Me? I gotta pull for the Netherlands, at least on the pitch itself. Amsterdam is better known for other substances, but there's plenty of good beer there once you get past Heineken -- and some damned fine Spanish restaurants, to boot.

Film Preview: Riding Bikes with the Dutch.

The first time I stepped off the train in Amsterdam I was literally speechless. As soon as I set foot on the ground I was almost run over by a mob of bikes. I turned to look up and to my amazement there was a 3 level structure dedicated to just parking bicycles. Everyone from three years old to 93 seemed to be tooling around the city on two wheels. This was too much to take in with just my own eyes. I needed to share this with everyone I could and this is why I made my film: Riding Bikes with the Dutch.

- Michael Wolfgang Bauch, EverydayBike.com

Genever for breakfast: "Going Dutch."

Encouragement for a Tuesday morning comes from the Sunday NYT magazine. Perhaps if we're fortunate, we can catch HB on break from his daily Obama bashing and elicit a comment or two.

Going Dutch, by Russell Shorto (New York Times Magazine, April 29, 2009)

But to ponder relative tax rates is only to trace the surface of a deeper story. In fact, as my time abroad has coincided with the crumpling of basic elements of the American economic and social systems, and as politicians, commentators and ordinary Americans have cast about for remedies or potential new models, I have found myself not only giving the Dutch system a personal test drive but also wondering whether some form of it could be adopted by my country.

One subtext of the World Economic Forum at Davos in January was the question of whether, amid the derailing of American-style capitalism as we have known it, the European approach, which marries capitalism and social welfare, and which in times of economic crisis seems to offer more stability both to individuals and to society, could suit the United States.

Civilization under attack: Dutch coffee shops and the new smoking ban.

Perhaps instead of banning tobacco ... aw, never mind.

Amsterdam coffee shops say tobacco ban is blow to business

As in the rest of Europe the purpose of the ban is to protect the health of staff, who at present are obliged to inhale passively other people's smoke. But Sandy Lambrecht, the manager of the Bulldog coffee shop on the Leidseplein in the heart of Amsterdam, said: "The new rules are absurd. You come to a coffee shop to smoke, after all – it's ridiculous that we have to comply. The new rules are meant to protect employees like me, but the point is that we chose to work here."

It's just that I support niche markets.

Group beer hunting trips are planned for 2008.

On numerous occasions I’ve confided to friends and pub patrons that coming up with a sequel to the legendary 2004 German-Czech beer tourism group trip has proven to be a chore. That’s because the 2004 trip was probably as close to perfection as any of us are likely to experience, and in addition, the years since have been filled with other challenges and commitments that have conspired to make a group trip difficult to schedule.

After much deliberation about the future of such endeavors, I’m pleased to announce that my mind’s finally made up. I’m planning two very different group beer trips for 2008, and you’re invited to attend.

The 2008 spring group excursion to the Pacific Northwest likely will include Seattle, Portland and Rogue Nation in Newport, Oregon. All I can say for sure is that it will take place in May, probably after the Kentucky Derby, which runs on May 3, 2008. The trip will last around 10 days. It is likely that the bulk of the group will be flying from Louisville, although participants are free to make their own arrangements subject to my being in the loop.

Once in Portland or Seattle, a chartered motorcoach will be waiting, and we’ll go from there. Of course, as many beer-related events and tours as possible will be scheduled, and there’ll be ample free time in the cities we visit for non-yeast-culture activities.

In September, 2008, the usual suspects from the beercycling gang will be organizing a bicycle-oriented beer hunting trip to Belgium and Netherlands. The core group will either take bikes or rent them in Amsterdam, which we’ll in all likelihood be using as arrival and departure point. The group will travel by train to the vicinity of the Poperinge hop festival (probably Ieper), and attend the parade on September 21, 2008. After a program in the area, we’ll ride over a period of eight or so days back to Haarlem, Netherlands (minutes from Amsterdam), where the trip will conclude.

We have precise biking maps of the entire area to be covered, and this beercycling trip will be completely planned and micromanaged to ensure that a pre-determined, specific distance is covered each day, with conclusion in a pre-booked hotel.

It is our aim to rent a vehicle to serve as sag wagon, and to carry luggage aboard the sag wagon, not in panniers has been the case on previous trips. Subject to interest and the size of the vehicle, there will be limited seating in the sag wagon for non-cycling participants – perhaps as many as three or four. In addition, given the proximity by rail of most of the sites we’ll be visiting, there is the possibility of meeting rail travelers at pre-arranged rendezvous points. I will assist interested parties in arranging their affairs, but will not actively supervise them.

As of this time, I’m interested in knowing who may be “in” for either of these planned excursions in 2008. There are no financial obligations. Write to the e-mail address in my blog profile, or leave word at the pub. Also, suggestions are appreciated.

It’s early, but preparations are starting. If you're new to this, know that my objective after organizing and arranging these trips is to pay my own way with a percentage of the proceeds, which is all above board and conducted through my side venture, Potable Curmudgeon, Inc. References from past travelers are available upon request.

I hope to see many readers next year.