Fast Pedestrians or Slow Cars?

In a nice interview with British psychologist Ian Walker, John Sutton of the Psychologist asks some good questions about how cyclists are treated in Britain and how the infrastructure leaves them the odd group out:

Should town planners treat cyclists as fast pedestrians and accommodate them that way (e.g. put them on pavements, expect them to yield priority at every side road) or should they treat cyclists as slower vehicles and accommodate them that way (e.g. create cycle lanes at the sides of roads)? All these solutions have problems, but most critically, there’s no way that one solution will fit everybody as people cycle for different reasons. Some of the work we’ve done at Bath lately, most notably by my PhD student Gregory Thomas, shows that some people really value fresh air and exercise such that, if they were unable to cycle, they would walk. Others are cycling for speed and, if for some reason had to change mode, would drive. Because people are doing the same behaviour with different motivations, you can’t expect them all to accept the same infrastructure provision – the person who just wants exercise might tolerate stopping at every sidestreet but the person who wants to get to work quickly will not.

One interesting point is how drivers can look at cyclists right before they turn in front of them, but still not "see" them. I've definitely noticed this behavior for cars approaching an intersection where I have the right of way, and I have to adjust my line so as not to get poked when they jut out past the stop line to look around, and also to put myself in the same place a car would actually cross their line of sight. Most cyclists are drivers, but not all drivers are cyclists, so some awareness on cyclists' perspective of road conditions would definitely help drivers' attention to, and some patience for cyclists on the side of the road.

Here in Pasadena, cyclists are getting stuck in that fast pedestrian mode when they now have many stop lights at intersections which are controlled by induction loops. Unless some amount of metal can close that circuit, the light will never change. For us on carbon bikes, we have to hit the crosswalk button, wait for a car to stop, or break the law and cross on the red. That third is not really an option, though, because I have not seen any of these induction loop controlled intersections without a crosswalk button.

Finally, a fun point: in the interview, Ian Walker talks about his work at Bath University showing how close cars get to cyclists wearing helmets or not, and how much space they give women versus men. I wrote about this study six years ago here. I wore long hair for many years, but I don't know how visible my ponytail was to passing cars. Now that my hair is short again, I'll make a mental note to check how close cars are getting to me.

Shenanigans on Shrinkage

According to an Italian study, penises have shrunk 10 percent compared to 50 years ago:

The study doesn’t say how the research was conducted or give numbers. But it does provide several reasons for the shrinkage, including: weight gain, stress, smoking and alcohol.

Now, there are no links to the actual study itself, so shenanigans from the get go, plus methodology is not reported, so more shenanigans. But worst shenanigans: men were drinking and smoking a hell of a lot more 50 years ago than we do these days. Shenanigans all the way around on this "study."

Update: Just occurred to me: what if the researchers are trying to make the point that men need to smoke and drink more? Who sponsored this study? Altria and Inbev?

Boozy Shakes Are Now A Thing

Being served at your finer flare-enhanced chain restaurants.

TGI Friday's and a slew of independent restaurants sell milkshakes made with Guinness stout, an Irish dark beer brand, usually around St. Patrick's Day.

The Counter, a Los Angeles-based burger chain, offers a variety of alcoholic shakes, including versions made with red or white wine.

Not to be left behind, fast-food restaurants have been pushing the envelope on nonalcoholic milkshake flavors. For example, fast-food chain Jack In The Box earlier this year caused a stir with its bacon-flavored milkshakes.

Red Robin's beer milkshake is a limited-time offering sold as part of the restaurant's Oktoberfest menu.

As one who enjoys beer floats (not root beer, just beer), I welcome these additions to the menu. I'm not so sure about the wine concoctions, since the milk or ice cream will totally overpower those delicate oak and earthy notes, but a beer, bacon, and maple syrup shake? *drools*

Update:

Speaking of boozy drinks - Beer Float!

twitter.com/joeschmo1of3/s…— Joseph Morris (@joeschmo1of3) September 15, 2012

I Was The Prey, Not The Hunter

As a preamble, let me mention that I have never been chased or attacked by any kind of animal while riding my bike. Not once. I've passed big dogs off the leash, little dogs, even a coyote once who looked at me with an expression akin to "what's your hurry?" Simply put, dogs don't scare me, and I give off the attitude that I'm the big dog, on the hunt, so join me or keep running the other way.

That changed this morning as I was making my way home from my "flat" workout (24.5 miles still translates to 1200 feet, go figure). On a very wide residential street, I heard a woman's voice yell out, "Come back here!" Somebody was being a "bad dog." So, from the very far side of the street shoots this little Jack Russell terrier mix, giving the short breaths and growls of a dog who wants to play.

It couldn't catch me, but since this was a loose dog, with cars and other people all over the place, and its master trying to catch it, I slowed down to take a look at the dog. First my left side, then running around the back tire to my right side, the terrier was trying to catch my shoes, and I was worried I would kick it in the snoot. And then, it was gone. I thought, "Uh oh, this is not safe," so I turned around, scanning the sidewalks and front yards for the escapee.

Beyond the intersection I had just passed, the little dog was running around all the front yards of a couple of houses, with the middle-aged lady holding the leash begging it to "come here." I geared down so that I could up my pedal cadence "a lot" and spin my legs. I grunted not loudly, "here," and the dog shot, again, right for me. Then I stopped, and I was finally "caught."

The little dog was jumping around my legs, giving that look that dogs give when they want you to throw the ball again. "Why aren't you moving?" it seemed the little dog was barking at my knees as it nudged them. The master made it to me, thanking me and apologizing for her dog. I replied, "It looks like he needed a target for you to catch up to him." And then the leash went on, as I offered my hand to let the dog know me.

The lady was explaining that he was a rescue that the family got just two days ago, and loves playing a chasing game. Obviously! Now that I was no longer prey, the dog, Cavanaugh, was just excited to meet someone new. But Cavanaugh had some bad habits, like chasing anything that moves, like the cyclist who passed by us as I was talking to the lady. Good thing the leash was on tighter that time. Next time I see Cavanaugh, that might not be his name anymore, as the family thinks that's too much of a mouthful, but I will keep an eye out in that neighborhood for any little dogs trying to chase bicycles.

No Resemblance...

No resemblance at all, says Jo.