Showing posts with label the bash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the bash. Show all posts

Sunday, December 28, 2008

The cycling revolution will not be televised



















-- Government’s failure to invest in bike infrastructure is turning Kiwis into fat bastards

Study: Commuters are less likely to ride a bicycle to work when governments fail to invest in bike infrastructure. (Tell us something we don’t know).

A recent Australian study shows Sydneysiders (who are buying bicycles at a faster rate than cars) are far less likely to ride a bicycle to work than people living in other Australian and international cities. A lack of useful and safe bike paths, the CBD's many one-way roads, and a shortage of places to store bikes during the day are keeping commuters in their cars.

With only 1.8 per cent of its 4,100 kilometres of cycleways designated bike-only lanes, Sydney lags behind other cities, but is streets ahead of major New Zealand cities.

Hell, the New Zealand Transport Agency isn’t even prepared to consider trialing a bicycle/walking lane on Auckland’s only harbour crossing (Regional transport chairwoman Christine Rose said it achieved a “low assessment against the criteria" for priority transport projects).

In the meantime, the hardy few cyclists braving a work commute continue to be treated as pariahs of the road (and face getting the bash from motorists), while the New Zealand government fritters more than $900 million a year on sport and recreation – to little effect. 

A near 60-per cent increase in sport and recreation funding over the past decade has all but failed to increase the average Kiwi’s physical output.

What the? $900 million worth of advertising to get our fattening arses off the couch, but no harbour bridge cycle lane (or any other cycle lanes of strategic significance)? And this, despite a Sport and Recreation Active New Zealand survey highlighting cycling as one of the most common types of activity.... slightly less popular than walking (including walking to the pub, back from the pub); gardening (exercise, my arse); swimming (passable); and fishing (don’t make me laugh).

Here’s an idea: siphon the spectacularly ineffectual Sport and Recreation advertising budget and put it into cycle lane construction for bicycle-owning commuters, who are currently too spooked to leave their cars. The spinoffs are many, not the least reducing New Zealand’s average arse size and public health bill.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Sisters against cyclist bashing
















-- NZ bikers show true colours

Otago researchers say the threat of getting the bash is keeping New Zealanders off their bicycles. Apparently, the perceived threat of attacks outweighs the benefits of pedalling. It might make me fitter, but I’m not prepared for the punch-up, some might say. 

Perceptions can be funny things. Are there really that many motorists out there baying for cyclist blood? 

However, I can understand certain trepidation and the threat of getting a vehicular bash. Every cyclist has a story. And research tends to back me up. 2006 Ministry of Transport crash statistics show 9 cyclist deaths; 150 were seriously injured and 683 suffered minor injuries, as indicated by police reported crashes on New Zealand roads. In the same report cyclists were found to have primary responsibility in only 30 percent of all cyclist-vehicle crashes in which they are injured or killed – i.e. vehicles cause 70 percent of injuries and deaths.

Members of Kiwi Biker, the site for all New Zealand motorcyclists, have entered the discussion.

The ‘Hitcher’ sets the tone: “Fucking treadly riders,” he begins, offering further insight. “I had an opportunity to clean up a couple of dozen of them this morning, but decided to brake hard instead.” (How accommodating, thanks Hitcher).

He goes on and on about wankers and arseholes and gut-laden lycra (fair point – guts and lycra is a bad look. But try pedalling in board shorts). “I hope your MP3 players get caught in your spokes and that your spandex suit is rent asunder when your corset snaps. There should be laws against middle-aged men in lycra,” he says (That’s a bit tough. OK, middle-aged men and all that. But, hell, do you want them to stay on the couch, grow moobs and buy a motorbike?)

He finishes: “If you want to ride on roads that owners and operators of POWERED vehicles have paid for, then please show some respect and courtesy.”

(Got to put you right here, Hitcher. Most lycra clad cyclists, and especially middle-aged ones, don’t ride because motorised transport is beyond their grasp. Like bikers they ride because they love it. And what you’ll find is that the majority of them have at least two cars back in the garage. So, they’re not riding the hairy bikers back, so to speak).

Twisted sister offered more favourable ideas. “I find a quick lick of my palm across their lycra clad arses is very enjoyable and satisfying...well it is for me anyway.”

Sounds ok, though, ah, assuming ‘sister’ is, well, you know what I mean.