Nadine Higgins
Getting on a bike to beat the gridlock
It occurred to me this week the ‘‘why did the chicken cross the road’’ riddle is all wrong for the New Zealand context. It should really be a pukeko.
The thought struck me as a pukeko almost struck me – or rather, I almost struck a pukeko – when it made a last-second dash across the cycle path, terrifyingly close to my front wheel.
Mind you, I should be grateful my encounter with something loud and aggressive featured feathers, not a two-tonne Range Rover and an attitude problem.
Social media is littered with helmet-cam footage of the rancorous relationship between cyclists and drivers, but pictures of black metal tacks found scattered across Wellington’s Island Bay cycleway – apparently for the second time – made me realise this is getting out of hand.
Other than cyclists’ wanton display of their sweaty shrinkwrapped bits at cafe´s on a Sunday morning, how exactly does their existence so mortally offend people? OK, so riding two-abreast is annoying – and I can attest to the fact that’s annoying whether you’re on four wheels or two. But how it’s reached the point where we have to advertise on the back of buses that cyclists are in fact people, with mothers and lovers, is beyond me.
I’ve been clocking up about 150 kilometres a week, commuting to and from work on my e-bike. Not only is it quicker and cheaper than commuting by car, but thanks to the wonder that is electricity my city becomes flat and it becomes a lovely way to spend half an hour.
It also means there’s one less car on the road for the rest of Auckland’s gridlock prisoners to refuse to let merge into their lane.
I’ve lost count of the number of radio talkback hosts who’ve proclaimed cycleways are an utter waste of money because nobody uses them and never will. Presumably these opinion factories have never deigned to use one, because that couldn’t be further from my experience – cycleways experience rush hour, too.
I’d pick riding in that kind of rush hour any day, because riding on the roads feels a lot like being a woman alone in a dimly lit alleyway after dark, wound like a coiled spring because every approach represents a potential threat to her life.
Poorly designed and poorly thought-out cycleways have residents in some areas up in arms, but cyclists should be up in arms about poorly designed and poorly thought-out cycleways, too – especially with the prospect of further funding for decent ones being scrapped. When they’re done right they can work for everyone – there will be less wear and tear on the roads, less congestion, and less fighting over carparks. Oh, and fewer cyclists in hospital.
Although I suppose I will still need to do the occasional dance with a pukeko with a death wish.
Other than cyclists' wanton display of their sweaty shrink-wrapped bits at cafe´s on a Sunday morning, how exactly does their existence so mortally offend people?