PASS MASTERS
THE SPIKE IN CYCLIST CASUAL TIES ON OUR ROADS LEFT TWO WEST MIDLANDS POLICE OFFICERS SO APPALLED THAT THEY LOOK MATTERS INTO THEIR OWN HANDS WITH OPERATION OPERATION CLOSE PASS...
How one constabulary has become the driving force for making our roads safer for cyclists.
When I arrive in Wolverhampton, the front page of the evening paper includes a story about a woman seriously injured after being knocked from her bike by a hit and run driver.
At my hotel, I ask if there’s somewhere safe I can store my bike. The receptionist leads me out to the car park, past the rows of flash Audis and BMWs, and points to some railings. “You can lock it there,” he says. Instead, I wrestle it up a narrow flight of stairs and through two fire doors to my room.
At breakfast the next morning, I watch the busy commuter traffic heading into the city centre. Between vehicles, I catch glimpses of a painted cycle lane on the
"STATIONARY DRIVERS STARE RESENTFULLY AT ME AS I OVERTAKE THEM. A VAN BLOCKS THE BUS LANE AHEAD OF ME
opposite side of the road. In the 20 minutes it takes me to consume my full English, I count only one rider using it. After settling my bill, I drag my bike down the stairs and start my own journey.
As I thread through the lines of traffic at a succession of signals and roundabouts, I feel simultaneously conspicuous and insignificant. Stationary drivers stare resentfully at me as I overtake them. A van blocks the bus lane ahead of me. A road diversion without concession to cyclists funnels me on to a dual carriageway. As I leave the city centre, a new menace presents itself in the form of the tramline to Birmingham.
If I wanted a reminder of my vulnerability as a road user, the past 24 hours have served it up with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. When I reach my destination, a makeshift car park just off the busy Bilston Road, I’m greeted by police officers Hodson
and Hudson, two traffic cops with West Midlands Police who also happen to be passionate cyclists. Mark Hodson shaves his legs and races with Tamworth RMCC, while Steve Hudson goes touring with his wife and commutes 30 miles each way to work every day.
TAKING THE INITIATIVE
Sickened by the number of riders being killed or seriously injured by drivers, the pair set up Operation Close Pass, an initiative that in two years has grown from a local campaign to a policy now being rolled out by police forces across the UK and Europe. For them, the motivation is clear.
“We need to create an environment where cyclists feel safe, and the only way to do that is to put doubt in drivers’ minds – ‘If I’m not paying attention and get too close to that cyclist, there’s a good chance I’ll end up reported and have points on my licence,’” says Hodson.
“If you’ve got a little old granny going down the shops and there’s a gang of kids on the corner intimidating her, we’d send down the local bobby. It’s the same if your kid wants to cycle to school or your loved one to work – if they feel intimidated by other road users, you send in the police.”
As we chat, a succession of police vehicles, including two patrol cars, four motorbikes and an unmarked BMW 330d xDrive, arrive. Amidst the flickering blue lights and crackling radios, a fire
"WE NEED TO CRATE AN ENVIRONMENT WHERE CYCLISTS FEEL SAFE AND THE ONLY WAY TOO DO THAT IS TO PUT DOUBT IN DRIVERS' MINDS"
engine also swings onto the site, disgorging its crew of four who immediately begin unfurling a large rubber mat and unfolding a bright orange Brompton cycle.
As Hodson swaps his police uniform and stab vest for Lycra shorts, Sidi shoes and a rain jacket, I notice the tattoo on his right arm - a Roman centurion’s headpiece resting on a section of cobbles.
“Fabian Cancellara is my favourite rider,” he says. “But I had to wait until he’d retired and make sure there were no doping skeletons in his cupboard before I had the tattoo done. I got it in the same place all the [Aston] Villa players go for their tats.”
He clips into his Dolan road bike that is fitted with front and rear Cycliq cameras and a GPS computer. He’s not putting today’s ride on Strava, is he?
“No, but I used to wear a heart rate monitor. It was interesting to
see how it jumped up whenever a close pass happened.”
Before we leave, Steve Hudson calls his partner over for a private chat. I suspect it’s “operational details” until Hodson returns to tell me: “We’ve decided you should ride in front. If anyone takes offence at what we’re doing, we don’t want to end up with a corporate manslaughter charge!”
I suddenly feel as if I’m in an episode of The Wire with Marlo and Snoop waiting around the corner with a nail gun and copy of The Highway Code. Hodson puts things into perspective: “You can have a hundred passes with no problem whatsoever. But we have to make drivers feel vulnerable in some way, and that vulnerability is the constant threat of prosecution. We call it the average speed camera affect. All of a sudden we are all law-abiding drivers when we see the average speed cameras. We have got to create that environment for everybody.”
"WE'VE BARELY PEDALLED 200M BEFORE I HEAR HODSON CALLING IN THE REGISTRATION NUMBER OF A DRIVER WHO HAS ERRED TOO CLOSE"
MIND THE GAP
Bilston Road at 10am on a Wednesday morning is a constant stream of traffic. This particular 800m stretch includes traffic signals, pinch points caused by street furniture, lines of parked cars and a roundabout. It was flagged up to Hodson’s unit – the Road Harm Reduction Team, the only one of its kind in the UK – by local cyclists. For the next 90 minutes, we will be riding up and down it and reporting any drivers that pass too close, or break any other road regulations.
We’ve barely pedalled 200m before I hear Hodson calling in the registration number of a driver who has erred too close: “Sierra, Whisky, Tango...” In less than a minute the flashing blue lights of one of our police motorcyclists are filling the rear view mirror of the offender. The driver clearly isn’t familiar with Rule 163 of the Highway Code, which states that drivers overtaking cyclists should give them “at least as much room as you would when overtaking a car.”
A few metres further on, the driver of a Renault Clio is in for an even bigger surprise. They are parked in the Advanced Stop Line box – reserved for cyclists only – at a red light. As soon as the signal turns green, the unmarked BMW is on its tail, revealing its true identity in a sudden explosion of blue lights. Both these offenders are escorted back to the car park for an “education session”.
The morning continues with us riding up and down the same stretch of road and Hodson regularly reciting registration numbers into his radio. I find myself trying to be as poker-faced as possible as we pass side streets where a police motorcyclist is waiting for the call. I don’t want to alert any potential offenders.
I’m also concentrating on keeping my riding as smooth and straight as possible, terrified any slight deviation caught on Hodson’s front camera could cause a case against a motorist to collapse in court: “M’lud, it was the cyclist’s lack of souplesse and gaudy socks which caused the driver to swerve too close.”
Back at the car park, the first offender is being offered the choice of prosecution for driving without due care and attention – with the penalty of a fine and at least three points on their licence - or a 15-minute lesson delivered by a fire officer using the big rubber mat and the Brompton. He opts for the latter.
“We use the fire brigade because the unfortunate fact is that members of the public respond better to them than they do to being ‘told off’ by the police,” says Hodson.
Fire brigade watch commander Darren Thompson, who commutes 100 miles a week by bike, says his officers will do all they can to help reduce the number of cyclist casualties. “As first responders, we witness the aftermath of plenty of incidents where cyclists have been taken out by drivers.”
Of the drivers we speak to after they’ve been “educated”, half are in denial while the rest acknowledge their offence. “I was sure I’d left enough room, but apparently the cyclist could have swerved for a pothole or something,” says the driver of a big, shiny BMW.
“I can see how easy it is to intimidate a cyclist. I would always slow down,” says another.
“At least that’s an improvement on the SMIDSYs, Sorry Mate I Didn’t See You,” says Hodson.
He confirms that most of today’s nine close-pass offenders match the typical profile. “The common demographic is 45 and over, from the era when the car was king, and they haven’t ridden a bike since they were a child.
“They have no appreciation of vulnerable road users – they think of them as street furniture. Younger drivers are generally not too bad. They’ve ridden mountain bikes and watched videos by [Scots trials cyclist] Danny MacAskill.”
"OF THE DRIVERS WE SPEAK TO AFTER THEY'VE BEEN "EDUCATED", HALF ARE IN DENIAL WHILE THE REST ACKNOWLEDGE THEIR OFFENCE"
“By the end of the morning, we will also have netted two drivers without insurance and three unroadworthy vehicles”
Hodson is beaming with pleasure, because the driver of another car he called in has been arrested on a charge of drugdriving. “I could smell the cannabis as he drove past,” he says. “That’s the sort of thing we’d never have detected in a patrol car.”
TARGET DRIVEN?
By the end of the morning, we will also have netted two drivers without insurance and three unroadworthy vehicles, which prompts me to wonder if the operation has been more about “meeting targets” than protecting cyclists.
Hodson’s response is unequivocal: “It’s a myth that we have targets. If we go back today and say there were no offences, our superiors would say that’s a fantastic result. Unfortunately, that never happens, which is why I’ll never be out of work. It’s not about putting points on licences or prosecutions, it’s about creating an environment where people are happier to make those journeys by bike to school or the shops than they once were.”
Hodson believes this approach is more effective than improving road infrastructure.
“I love infrastructure, but it needs three things: political will, a lot of money and space,” he says. “Where am I going to put in this segregated cycle lane? The only way you’ll get more people on the road and feeling safe is, for me, to change driver behaviour around other road users.
“It would be great if drivers were motivated by respect for other road users rather than the fear of being caught, but they’re not, so this is more about the stick than the carrot.”
But isn’t this heavily biased against drivers? What about cyclists who offend? “It is drivers who pose the greatest threat of harm, while a cyclist who offends is a vexation,” says Hodson. “Yes, a cyclist jumping a red light will wind people up but why are they doing it in the first place? Is it for their own safety, to get in front of the traffic at a junction and make themselves more visible? We’ll look at those minor vexations once we’ve got rid of the drivers who are killing people on the roads.”