A Lake Wheeler Odyssey: Riding Bikes to a Vision Zero Meeting

The City of Raleigh has an awesome email system that lets its subscribers know when just about anything City-related is happening. I subscribe (highly recommend) and one day found an email sitting in my inbox saying "Vision Zero Public Meeting Schedule." Hmm. Interesting.

In a sentence, Vision Zero is more or less the Approved Way For Local Governments To Get Fewer People To Die By Car.

Hey, I like that.

I popped that bad boy open and it looked like there was a meeting scheduled on 17 February for District D. The Bike Library (and both NCSU Campuses, for that matter) are located in District D, so it seemed like a good idea to at least go to that one.

Choosing a Vehicle For The Voyage: Bike

Being a Bicycle Person, I had no choice but to transport myself to and from this event on a bicycle. It's safer and more comfortable with a group, so up it went on the GGC calendar. Six of us met at the container at the predetermined time and got on our merry way.

Or was it so merry?

There is a low stress route to Carolina Pines community center from TBL, but it is substantially longer. Considering bikes already move slower than cars, I think salting that with a longer route really just laughs in the face of biking as a reasonable alternative to driving.

We decided to start by taking the greenway to Lake Wheeler, and boy what a dream it was. It's a greenway! We were able to ride side by side, laugh, talk, and enjoy nature. HYPE!

Lake Wheeler: The Beginning of the Onslaught

We took the exit ramp up to Centennial and rode down that parkway about 250m to the right turn on to Lake Wheeler.

The initial right hander met me with the typical adrenaline rush that floods my system as I turn onto a high-speed automotive corridor. Been there plenty of times. Still a thrill. Not necessarily my desired bike infrastructure, but it sure is exhilarating.

The right lane quickly turned into a middle lane and we were out in the middle of the asphalt, since the right turn lane led us straight to the I-40 on-ramp. No thank you.

Crossing the Interstate

We were now heading straight for the overpass. We ended up leapfrogging the line of cars as they sped past us and then hit red lights on both ends of the overpass. The large silver truck with black mudguards in the photo below was near us from the right hand turn on Centennial all the way over the bridge. Leapfrog.

It was a remarkably beautiful afternoon as we crossed the I-40 bridge. I couldn't help but wonder how much kinder people would be if they were out here instead of in there.

The Final Push

With the bridge behind us, the big scary part was also left in the rearview. At least to me. However, we still had a few hurdles ahead: First, we lost our nice shoulder and got pushed right out into traffic. Nothing is quite as heart-dropping as knowing you're going to have to go right out into that lane. Three... two... one...

Next, a gigantic van towing a very loud trailer passed over not one, but two double-yellows (a total of four yellow lines), clear into the other lane, and blitzed us. That wasn't fun.

By now, we were out in the lane and needed to take a left turn. The cars were stacked up behind us. Why? Because we're biking, dammit, and if the City can't give us dedicated space to ride, we're going to take your space.

Finally, we had to cross tough two-way traffic. After that, we were in the clear.

It was worth it, yes – a public meeting about preventing car violence is a public meeting I want to attend – but it being in a location only comfortably accessed by car seemed a bit counterintuitive.

As we rolled in, we found the parking lot full and the bike rack all but empty. If we are to make deep systemic change, we must think and act in new ways. We are part of the solution. The other part is what our elected officials do. Before we demand these things from those we elect, we have to be ready to hold up our end of the bargain. That means doing the best with what we can, right now.

That also means riding the damn bike in the middle of the damn street, with all the damn cars speeding around you.