Jan Gehl, Planner Extraordinaire

A name that I became familiar with only after reading David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries over the Thanksgiving holiday (a complete review is on its way) was that of Jan Gehl, a Danish urban planner who is largely responsible (as far as I can fathom) for making Copenhagen the world bicycling paragon that it is. I have spoken before about Copenhagen and its self-propagated images and perceptions, and frankly, I've been less than complimentary, because I think that the most vocal Danish bicycle proponents confuse cause and effect and fail to give credit where it's due (Mikael Colville-Andersen, in his talk in Washington DC, did not mention Gehl).

But if he is not personally so, Gehl appears to be close to the source itself. He's an architect and planner, and principal in Gehl Architects (who have one of the coolest Flash web front-ends I've ever seen.)

New York has a significant connection to Gehl as well. The New York City Department of Transportation hired Gehl as a consultant to survey its streets in 2007 and, by no coincidence bicycling is up in that city as well. Perhaps related to this connection, the New York Times has seen fit to recognize Gehl in its ninth annual Year in Ideas issue of the Sunday magazine.

Byrne talks about Gehl in several places in his book. He introduces him talking about Melbourne and the success they've had in making their city much more liveable. Byrne describes Gehl as

a visionary yet practical urban planner who has successfully tranformed Copenhagen into a pedestrian- and bike-friendly city.. We here in New York think that's .. all well and good for the Danes, but New Yorkers are .. independent minded, so that can't happen here. But Gehl reveals that his proposals initially met with exactly that kind of opposition over there: the locals said, "We Danes will never agree to this—Danish people won't ride bikes." [emphasis mine]

There are many reasons to be hopeful and engaged after reading Byrne's book, but I must say that I found the above paragraphs to be the most inspirational I'd read in quite a while.

Extreme Cyclist Holiday

I didn't really start out intending to have an Extreme Cyclist Holiday in Houston. I just meant to take my folder along and get some riding in, instead of spending all my time in a car, worrying about gas, parking, etc. Then things just sort of got out of hand.

Let's back up a little. At the last minute, I decided to go to the Rice University homecoming to hopefully see some old friends and hang out some with my older daughter Claire, who helps run a bookstore there. I booked a flight, and found my usual close-to-Rice hotel had some good rates, so I got a room. Then I thought, "Hey, I wonder if I can get from the airport to reasonably close to my hotel using mass transit?" Hopping on the Houston Metro website and entering a couple of addresses, I found that I could catch a bus right at the airport that took me to within a quarter-mile of my hotel with no transfers. Wow. Sixteen miles in Houston for a buck and a quarter. Double wow. (The image at right is from the Houston METRO trip planner, very convenient.)

So, that axed the rental car, which saved me about a hundred bucks, probably a hundred thirty with gas. Ka-ching. But it also meant that my in-town trips would be either by bus, by taxi, or by bike. (Now there's an easy decision.) Houston is flat, and the November weather in Houston is really perfect for riding (high 60's to mid 70's, and not terribly humid). And good weather (no rain) in the forecast.

So, to make a long story short, I spent an entire weekend (three days, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday) in Houston, Car City USA, and not once did I even get into an automobile. It didn't seem strange until early Sunday when I realized that I hadn't been in one. Of course all my old classmates thought it weird, but I caught some whiffs of envy among the incredulity, when they asked, "You're kidding! You BIKED to the party?"

Good things: Saving money, great exercise, the flatness of Houston (my little Dahon folder is great for packing, but really not much for hills), Rice University bike parking facilities (basically, good secure bike racks everywhere), not having to worry about parking a car, Daniel Boone's Cycle Shop, and great weather.

Some people complain about Houston drivers. I was told by the bus driver (friendly guy) coming into town that Houston drivers don't respect cyclists, but I had zero bad experiences over about 60 miles in 3 days. Of course I was in a university part of town, where there are quite a few cyclists, but overall, no complaints from me about Houston motorists.

Not so good things: Houston has the world's narrowest bike lanes (where they have them), and the paving in Houston is the pits. Literally. Basically, Houston is built on the flat gulf-coast plains that have a lot of clay in the soil. This "gumbo" as it is called is just hell on pavement. I found myself weaving a lot more than I wanted to be to avoid really nasty potholes and large cracks.

I even had an accident because of the bad roads! It was late at night and I was riding back to the hotel from my daughter's apartment. I hit a bad pothole (hard to see) and went right over the bars (not hard to do on a short-wheelbase, small-wheeled folding bike.) Luckily, no injuries beyond some bruised kneecaps, as I wasn't going all that fast. Not even any torn clothes.

The funny thing is, I picked myself up and dusted myself off, determined the bike was rideable (it needed the derailleur hanger bent back into proper position) and proceeded home. The next morning, I got up early and looked at bike and saw what I missed the night before: my cyclo-computer was missing. Muttering under my breath at my obliviousness the night before, I hopped on the bike and went back to the accident site (I figured if I waited, there was more chance of it getting smashed by a car) and there it was, flung up in a driveway, fully operational. I clipped it back on and went back to the hotel for breakfast.

But it's been almost 30 years since I had an over-the-bars experience! I'll probably be sore for several more days, but the only cure for that is more riding. I really wouldn't mind not ever going over the bars again, ever. Good thing I was wearing gloves. But the accident seemed to underscore the "extreme" quality of the weekend.

I have to say though, I wouldn't hesitate in the least to do a pure "bike holiday" again (except for the accident part). A little planning can yield a lot of riding, and a lot of fun.

Euro-envy in Basel and Berlin

I was in Europe on business this past week, Sunday through Friday, and spent my time in Basel and Berlin, which are both serious cycling cities. There were crowds of cyclists out, as the weather was mild. Pictures are worth thousands of words, and I'm suffering from mild jet-lag, so I'll just post some pictures and make a few comments. I describe this kind of post as "Euro-envy".

I know I've got a worldwide readership, and those of you who live in "real" cycling cities in Europe and elsewhere may well find this to be just boring tourist shots (and not great photography at that,) and for this I apologize in advance (although there may be one or two pieces of hardware below that are interesting). But this is mainly for those of us in America for whom bicycle culture is still on the outside looking in.

Arrived in Zurich on Sunday AM and took the train to Basel, where I had a day of meetings on Monday. Basel is a beautiful city situated on a bend in the Rhine, nestled in that corner of Switzerland that is right at both the French and German borders. Basel is a quite hilly place, with its share of rough cobblestone paving, and although they have bike-rental right at the Bahnhof, the profusion of streetcar tracks and the difficult navigation of the city's medieval planning kept me at pedestrian status. There is some bike infrastructure in Basel, but really it's just the social contract—well-educated motorists who are aware of the cyclists—that makes things work.

My first image tells quite a story by itself. Family of five. Mom hauling a trailer with kid #3, kids #1 and #2 on their own bikes, with Dad sheperding them. Mind you, this is the heart of Old Basel, at one end of the Mittler Brücke ("Middle Bridge") that crosses the Rhine. Here about 5 streets come together, as well as a couple (at least) of tram lines. True enough, it's a Sunday and a beautiful one at that, but ask yourself: Where in the US could this happen? Nowhere. Pick cities 1, 2, and 3 from League of American Cyclists best cities (I think they're Portland, Davis, and Boulder.) Would you see kiddo #2 on his own bike out there? I'm thinking not.

There were many families out, but this was the largest group that I saw. Lots of couples, with Mom having the child-seat or trailer setup and Dad getting to ride solo. Kind of unfair to the moms, always having to be the ones who lug the kids, but such is life.

Monday was all in meetings inside (it was a business trip, after all) and early, early Tuesday AM I caught the EasyJet to Berlin. (I must admit that knowing what I know about the carbon footprint of flying, and having the availability of trains, I was very tempted to try and build my itinerary around nothing but trains as a mode of transportation while in Europe, but it would have added probably two days to my stay to do so, and so was hard to justify to our company accountants.) Anyway, since I didn't have my next day-long meeting until Wednesday, I had an entire day to hoof it around Berlin with my cell-phone camera at the ready.

Berlin, Brunnenstraße north of Rosenthalerplatz: saw this nifty cargo bike with outrigger "rolling kickstand". This is a Biria-make postman's bike. Just look at the beautiful sweep of that split top tube, coming up to support the rear rack! A picture of the bike in action (being piloted by a familiar figure) with the kickstand up is here. Biria also sells bikes in the US, but not, unfortunately, this lovely model.

Rosenthalerstraße: the sleek iconic quality of this bike struck me. This is a classic Euro single speed. Fixies, even in Berlin, which is a very flat, infrastructure-rich, cyclist-friendly city, have not caught on here. Of the thousands of bikes I saw in use, I saw only one fixie, and it was parked. So think of this bike as "your Fixie's grandmother". Unlike what we think of as "fixies" these standard bikes are everywhere.

Rosenthalerstraße, heading south towards Aleksanderplatz (the omnipresent "Full-screenFernsehturm" TV tower in the distance): typical group of cyclists. Two of the seven cyclists in this picture have helmets. I would say that is about a normal ratio for Berlin. The Basel ratio is slightly higher.

Hackescher Markt: Nifty all-weather pedicab. These were all over. Several different companies running them.

F

Unter den Linden ("Under the linden trees", the broad tree-lined boulevard heading west to the Brandenberg Gate): The two shots, above and below, are the same intersection a few seconds apart as the light turned from red to green. The knot of cyclists are taking up the entire lane and spread out according to their different speeds. This is just Not A Problem in European cities. Sigh.

Charité Medical School, north central Berlin: I thought these little hedged and gated bike-parking yards were very nice. Secure and sightly. They are on the east side of the Max-Planck-Institut für Infektionsbiologie and can be clearly seen on Google Maps' satellite view.

Hannoversche Straße, near the medical school: This is a fairly unusual classic German motorcycle, an AWD. I'm no motorcycle fanatic, and certainly no expert, but I was struck by the aesthetics of this one. Look at that sleek crankcase and shaft drive. What a beauty!

Hauptbahnhof on Invalidenstraße: Right outside the main train station is a group of Deutsch Bahn "CallBikes". It is the German Railway-sponsored approach to city bikes, and it's quite different from Vélib or the others, as it has no fixed stations.

For the CallBikes system, you need a cellphone and an available CallBike (they are scattered everywhere). If the lock on the bike flashes green, it is available for rent. You call the phone number printed on the CallBikes to be texted the four-digit code which enables you to open the bike lock. When you're at your destination, you lock the CallBike to a stationary object anywhere inside the core city area. When you close the lock, a four-digit receipt code appears on the bike's display. Call the number printed on the bike, text the receipt code and the location of the bike and you're done. It will be interesting to see how this system works over time. I did see some people riding them, but I saw a lot more just sitting about.

(Sorry about the blurry shot—my group was walking fast to get to a meeting, and this was taken on the run).

Elisabethenstrasse, back in Basel: The Swiss Flyer is an E-bike produced by the Swiss firm Biketec AG, who have been at the E-bike game for a while. This is a small-wheel (20") version -- they have a lot of 26" styles and even an E-tandem! Most E-bikes, I think, use hub-motors, but this one appears to have a motor integrated with the front chainwheel (and concealed by the chain-guard.) One of my hosts in Basel is shopping for an E-bike. I think sales of these things are just exploding. This shot is a night shot of a window display, so it's a little blurry.

Intersection of Stänziergasse and Birsig-Parkplatz in old central Basel: Another night shot. This is a broad intersection of streets with lots of sidewalk-cafe action going on on a Thursday night in a pretty popular section of town, and the twentysomethings are getting around on.. bikes, of course. Lots and lots of them. (These bike parking areas are also visible on Google satellite view.) The near corner and the far diagonal corner of this intersection are packed with bikes. Most of them are locked with a short, heavy cable lock, which appears to be the security system of choice, much more popular than the U-lock seen more here in the US.

To an American, the most remarkable thing about cycling in urban Europe is it's not remarkable at all.