I’ve not had a moment to write anything this week. Instead, here are some more videos, from monday morning between 8 and 8:15.
Southwark Bridge, between the bit of Cycle “Superhighway” 7 that is segregated (for the weak Bridge’s structural safety, not the cyclists’ safety) and the shared use street up to Cannon Street. In Are we winning? I cited this as a river crossing where we should expect to see one of the largest number of cyclists:
And Millennium Bridge — my favourite river crossing (despite it having been built just a little bit too early for it to have occurred to them to include room for bicycles):
Perhaps I picked the wrong time — and certainly I picked the wrong part of the year — but in both cases the number of people powering themselves to work rather made me sad. Especially so with the amount of yellow they were wearing.
At War With The Motorist 
Why does yellow upset you?
Hm… is there a law in Britain that tells people to wear this yellow clothing? If I would have to dress out in a special suit every time I want to ride my bike, I certainly would get a feeling of threat and fear. And you teach car drivers to look for yellow riders only.
I am in favour of people wearing what they want.
Yellow stands out. My feeling is that if I ride in yellow I increase my chances of not having a motor hit me. It might give the ‘wrong’ lesson to motorists but it is a practical help to avoiding accidents. I don’t want to be nvolved when somebody fails the lesson.
You shouldn’t be too hard on cyclists for wearing yellow. Yellow jackets are like helmets: a reflection of the surrounding culture that considers cycling to be a dangerous sport in which cyclists are always to blame for their own misfortune. A motorist who collides (or has a near miss) with a cyclist will always seek out some way in which to blame their own inattention on the cyclist, and the cyclist’s failure to wear high-visibility clothing is one of several easy ways to do this.
In this kind of environment the cyclist who is shopping for a rain jacket will think, “I might as well buy one in high-vis, it doesn’t cost any more…”
” In this kind of environment the cyclist who is shopping for a rain jacket will think, “I might as well buy one in high-vis, it doesn’t cost any more…”
That is an interesting idea. My two cycling rain jackets are both black but I wear a yellow tabard. When I get off the bike I take the tabard off and put it in the bag. When I’m off the bike I don’t feel a need to look like a vulnerable road user.
“Why does yellow upset you?”
I choose not to wear yellow because it sets me apart as different. Different from the motorists who surround me. I am not a “cyclist”. I am a person on a bicycle. When you dress differently from others you set yourself apart. You may or may not be more visible, but to those who do see you, you are “other”. If that is your intention, good, but be aware you are doing it.
My “cycling wear” consists of a band on my right cuff. My bike, though I love it, does not have a chain guard to keep my cuff out of harms way. It is an egregious deficiency all too common in bikes sold to the US market.
Philip
I don’t know about the USA but hi viz yellow ain’t so unusual over here on all sorts of people.
I live in a small West Midlands city. Yesterday I saw school children, local authority workers, BT workers, local transport authorities and building site workers wearing yellow while getting their coffees at Costas. I wasn’t wearing mine because I take it off as I get off the bike, but I’d have fitted right in if I had been. I would have been part of the crowd.
Seems to me that creating your own definitions doesn’t help. You ride a bike then you are a cyclist. You get off it you are a pedestrian.
When I am cycling I am other and I want everyone to know that I am a vulnerable road user shring space with harder, faster travellers.
You must wear what you want; you don’t think your cuff band identifies you and makes you other? It cries out “I am a cyclist”, it is as obvious as walking about with your trouser leg tucked in your sock.