Reckless motorist caught on helmet cam

This is fascinating. A local cycling blogger made a video of a reckless motorist with a helmet camera, and used the evidence to file a successful civil complaint with the district police.

 The incident, which occurred in late January on Király utca, is detailed on the blog Sajat Zsiron ('On your own fat', a cycling idiom for riding alone or at the head of a peloton without the benefit of a draft). As the video shows, the cyclist was riding down the street at a point where it splits into three lanes: a bus lane on the right (legally forbidden to cyclists in Hungary), the middle lane in which the cyclist was riding, and then a lane on the left for oncoming traffic. Adhering to traffic rules, the cyclist kept on the right edge of the middle lane as a fast-moving Honda approached from behind. The Honda driver pulled ahead to overtake, trying to squeeze through a very narrow gap between the cyclist and an oncoming Mercedes SUV in the adjacent lane. Seeing that the gap was too narrow, the cyclist veered right into the bus lane. And it was in just the nick of time too, because the Honda veered right as well, narrowly avoiding a head-on with the SUV, but actually brushing the arm of the cyclist as it raced ahead.

It happened on a weekend and there was hardly any traffic. The passing motorist apparently made the dangerous move simply to get through an intersection whose light was about to change.

The blogger decided to use the clip to file a complaint with the police. Having never tried this, the cyclist had no idea what might happen. And after consulting with a Hungarian helmet-camera internet forum, it was apparent that no one else had either. The blogger also consulted a lawyer for the Hungarian Cyclists' Club who was similarly clueless about what might happen, but gave encouragement nonetheless. 

To make a long story short, the cyclist was pleasantly surprised to get a friendly and prompt reply from the VI District police. Just a week after reporting the incident, a lieutenant made contact and took down the cyclist's personal data, typed up a statement and assured that the video would prove useful in the case. Not only did it clearly capture the offending driver's license plate number, it showed exactly what had happened in undeniable fashion.

But then came silence. Nothing but bureaucratic dead air week after week as the cyclist waited for a decision. After more than two months passed with no news, the cyclist figured the complaint had probably become mulch at the bottom of the lieutenant's case load. But finally, on April 26, good tidings arrived in the mail: a court decision on the case stated the driver had been  fined HUF 50,000 and had 5 points docked from their driver's record.

In the next day's update, the blogger writes:

"I felt unspeakable joy in that moment when I realised that the police really do deal with us (cyclists)."

The post stresses that the goal was never to financially destroy the motorist. Rather, it was simply to draw their attention and get them to consider that you cannot jeopardise another's life in such a manner, that cyclists have no protection against speeding metal objects, and that motorists therefore need to watch out for us.

Illuminating result

Image from fall 2011 Critical Mass borrowed from here.

The results are in from Budapest's latest "ninja" count -- and it shows a significant uptick in the use of bike lamps compared springtime.

As you may recall, the organisers of the city's Critical Mass carried out a pilot survey of bike-lamp use this past March. Volunteer counters across the country observed more than 2,000 cyclists and found that 57 percent were in perfect compliance with requirements (having both front and rear lamps); 77 percent had at least one light (front, rear or both); and 23 percent were riding ninja style, with no lamps at all.

Last week, a follow-up survey was carried out and the improvement was remarkable. The share of cyclists in perfect compliance was up by 12 points to 69 percent; the portion with at least some lighting was up nine points to 86 percent; and the number of “ninjas” was down by nine points to 14 percent. The spreadsheet with the full dataset is available on Google dox here.

In his post on the count, lead organiser Gábor "Kükü" Kürti enthused about the "very positive" results, although cautioning that a more proper comparison will have to wait until March, when numbers can be compared from spring to spring.

Some comments to Kükü's post expressed skepticism that the result could be completely attributable to behavioural change. I'd have to agree that such a major change in mindset and habits would be unlikely to occur in just six months' time.

I was thinking there could be a few other possible explanations:

• In springtime, you have a lot more fair-weather cyclists who are riding bikes fresh out of storage and, naturally, with dead batteries in their lamps. Whereas in fall, the riders have been riding continuously all summer and their equipment, including lamps, is mainly in working order.
• Over the last couple of seasons, there's been a huge, and rapid improvement in the bike lamps on offer. The latest LED lights, with multiple diodes, have huge candle power and the batteries never seem to run out. At the same time, Hungarian bike shops are offering more and more commuter-style bikes that are pre-equipped with front and rear lamps powered by dynamos. It could very well be that the better offer on the marketplace has had a positive impact on lamp use even during the last six months.
• More optimistically, we all know there have been lots of new people taking up cycling during the last couple seasons. It could be that these relative latecomers to everyday cycling are generally more safety-conscious than the more kemény mag (hardcore) types who dominated the scene earlier. At any rate, I've noticed a lot more cyclists during the last season or two who are wearing reflective vests and jerseys, along with headlamps and other lights, than I used to.

Whatever the cause of the increase, it seems to me that even last spring's results were positive enough to disspell the prejudice that cyclists are a bunch of heedless sociopaths. Even the first survey showed that the overwhelming majority of night riders had at least one working lamp on their bike. That indicated to me that most people want to ride safe -- even if only for selfish reasons of personal security. The fact that some of these had a missing lamp or one with dead batteries is not a sign of willful disregard of the law or public safety. At worst, it's a sign of procrastination or forgetfulness. 

The latest survey gives hope that there's something afoot that's influencing more people to ride with working lamps. It'll be interesting to see if the good numbers hold up in the springtime.

 

Second Periodic Nationwide Ninja Count

The guys at criticalmass.hu are organising a nationwide bike-lamp count tonight from 7-7:20. They're seeking volunteers to stake out positions on local bike routes during this time window and count all passing cyclists and the extent to which each one complies with traffic code requirements on lighting.

This is the second time such a count has been done; the first was conducted last March. In that one, volunteers took counts at 85 sites, 48 in Budapest and the rest in 21 smaller towns and cities. In total, 2,461 cyclists were counted. The overall result was that 57 percent were in perfect compliance with the rules, having functional front and rear lamps; a further 20 percent had one good lamp (either front or rear); and 23 had no lamp at all ("bike ninjas" in the bike-world parlance).

As Critical Mass organiser Gábor Kürti noted in his post about these results, one of the main causes of accidents involving cyclists is that the cyclists simply aren't noticed. Few would argue that having lamps can help alleviate the problem -- at least at night time.

The 23 percent of cyclists riding around as ninjas is far too high, in Kürti's opinion, and he hopes these regular counts, once or twice per year, will help raise awareness of the problem and track its evolution.

If you'd like to take part in the count, it's quite simple. The directions, in Hungarian, are given here:

Ninja count

It's cycling season again, and one of the principals at criticalmass.hu wants to know what portion of cyclists in Hungary ride with lights at night. He's calling for volunteer counters around the country to make sample bike-traffic counts along routes of their choosing between 7 and 7:20 p.m. on Friday.

You're just asked to count passing cyclists for 20 minutes while noting how many have just a front lamp, haw many have just a rear lamp, how many have both, and how many have neither. You then upload the results as a comment to the original blog post. The full details are there (though only in Hungarian).

The call for volunteers doesn't say what inspired the idea, though the issue of bike lighting is certainly a timely one. Legal requirements on bike lighting were tightened up in last year's revision of the Hungarian Traffic Code. Cyclists are now required to not only have front and rear lamps after dark, but also side reflectors on their wheel spokes, and, if you're riding outside city limits, a reflective vest on your person.

During last fall's Critical Mass in Budapest, police, for the first time ever, were handing out citations to participants without all the requisite bling. In recent months, the national police have warned they'll make extra effort this spring to enforce cycling rules. They've threatened to screen bikes for required lamps with random checks that might even take place during daylight hours. (Tip to police: spotting lampless bikes is easier after dark.)

Anyway, I have nothing against legal requirements for bike lights. Even in bike-friendly Netherlands, this is one area where the authorities are quite fussy with cyclists. I won't get on a high horse in this matter, having found myself past dark on many occasions with lights that were dim to dark because of dead batteries. That said, the "bike ninjas" speeding through the Budapest night without lights are a pet peeve of mine. It seems the minimalist aesthetic among some fixie riders can make them averse to putting anything on their bikes, including lamps. Ironically, unlit cyclists are probably most dangerous when they're on bike paths, where there are no car headlights or street lighting to illuminate them reflectively.

But aside from puristic fixie riders and the occasional battery-bereft duffer (me!), it is my impression that the majority of riders DO use lights past dark. My ballpark guess would be 80 percent. We'll see in a couple days how close I am.

Strained relations

Traffic cops handed out a total of HUF 839,000 (EUR 3,000) in on-the-spot fines to 110 participants in Wednesday's Critical Mass demonstration, according to the Budapest Police.

Police were out in force during the event, most of them stationed in small teams at intersections and flagging over cyclists for checks and interrogations. According to the police, most of the citations were given for running red lights and for riding on tram tracks.

In various news reports, organisers agreed that although many of the citations were probably deserved, they also had heard of reports of cyclists being hassled for not wearing reflective vests, which would be a misapplication of the law (reflective vests are required only for night-time riding on rural roads).

And considering the five-year record of very good cooperation between the city officials and Critical Mass organisers, it struck many as a disheartening change of tone.

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It's probably entirely unrelated, but I was interested to see that Hungarian Cyclists' Club János László was a participant in a separate demonstration just before Critical Mass but involving the same organisers -- leaders of the Hajtas Pajtas bike courier company.

This protest, which was filmed and posted here, concerned City Hall's use of a prime patch of 5th District property as their own personal parking lot. The property, big enough to accommodate two football pitches, sits between City Hall and the kiskörút and north of the Merlin Theatre. With its location in the dead centre of town, I wouldn't be surprised if it's the most expensive vacant lot in Hungary.

The area was once home to a row of shabby looking one-story shops and taverns. These were razed, opening up a vast lot from the kiskörút to City Hall. A couple years ago, a narrow strip along the kiskörút was turned in to a "temporary" park while the rest was sealed from the public with a three-metre fence and put at the mayor's disposal as free parking. (Street parking fees in the neighbourhood run more than HUF 400 per hour.)

The protesters' simple action involved jumping the fence and taking over the property for a short while to blow bubbles, skip rope, throw frisbees, and lay on the grass. They brandished a sign reading "Parkoló" with the "oló" crossed out. (In English "parking lot" with the "...ing lot" crossed out.)

They're right, of course. Downtown suffers from a terrible shortage of parks, which is part of the reason the newish public space at nearby Erzsébet tér got run down so quickly. The demand for open space in downtown greatly exceeds supply. (The other reason is that it was cheaply built, but that's another story.)

Anyway, the protesters made a pertinent point in a funny, clever way -- which seems to be their forté. But I was a little surprised to see János there considering the cycling club he leads gets a good part of its operating budget from City Hall. Biting the hand that feeds, I would have thought.

Then again, with Mayor Demszky out of contention in this season's election and his Free Democrats party in shreds, I suppose this is just one more sign of a closing chapter of city politics.

The Biking Bloc

This year's free-jazz approach to Critical Mass seemed to produce more harmony than discord as far as I could tell. And participation was once again huge, at least 10,000 according to the report by Hungarian wire service MTI. Certainly, Érzsébet tér was swamped with cyclists for the closing bike lift at 8 p.m.

My advance post on the ride was called "Critical Chaos," but this was not descriptive of the event as it happened. Despite having no fixed starting point, and only a crude script calling for people to ride on the Pest side of the Nagykörút starting at 6:30 p.m., most participants rode in an orderly fashion on schedule. There seemed to be heavy bike traffic in both directions over most of the length of the route.

From my limited vantage point, it appeared that the traffic going from Margit bridge to Oktogon was heaviest. The entire curbside lane was packed with cyclists and at some points, we even spilled into the second lane. On any other day, I wouldn't think of taking my 5-year-old boy on the körút. The traffic there is as fast and aggressive as it gets in Budapest. However, Critical Mass offers safety in numbers, so Lance accompanied me on my bike's luggage rack the whole way. Mind you, he has no patience for Critical Mass. To him, this is an event that looks from a distance like a festival, but then upon arrival you see it has no rides or toys. I explain to him that it's a political thing. Lance thinks it's BORING.

Despite the usual civility of the crowd and the effectiveness of the volunteer traffic directors, there were tonnes of police this year. MTI noted that there were police checks at at least 10 intersections and that they were handing out fines as high as HUF 15,000 for not having lights and/or spoke reflectors. Hungarian Cyclists' Club János László lamented a lapse in the traditional good cooperation between organisers and police.

Near Oktogon, I noticed a group of cops questioning some kids on trials bikes -- and I could see that main organiser Gábor Kürti had stopped to mediate. Further on, I observed a group of cops at Blaha Lujza tér stopping cyclists seemingly at random. I don't know if the guy below was guilty of anything, but the cops let him go after a couple minutes of interrogation.

I reckon the city would be remiss if it didn't exert some official control on a demonstration that routinely attracts tens of thousands of people. At any rate, I didn't see any acts of violence by either the cops or participants.

A little while later, we came across Justin Hyatt -- a member of the Young Greens (Zöfi) and a stalwart of the livable-cities movement. He and a fellow activist were in bunny outfits, which provided some welcome comic relief for Lance. They handed me a flier with this URL: www.placcc.hu. More political stuff, apparently, although I didn't tell Lance.

It was getting late so we turned off the körút and headed down Rákóczi út (maybe the only street downtown scarier than the körút) and eventually found our way to the closing bike lift at the Gödör klub. A couple guys with a three-wheel bike taxi emblazoned with a sign saying "Put some fun between your legs!" had some balloons. This salvaged the evening for Lance. It was a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd and Kristin had come with our 4-month-old daughter Sequoia (by stroller, not bike). This was Sequoia's first extra-utero (?) Critical Mass. She did the last one in utero.

Kristin didn't have a bike for the bike lift so she lifted Lance. It's hard to make out, but Lance is spread-eagled here, with one leg above Kristin and the other below. Reminds me of body-surfing photos from my grungy heyday back in Seattle.
After that, the family went home and I hung on to catch the start of the most overtly political part of the evening: mayoral candidates for the fall election were invited for a cycling-focused Q&A -- broadcast on a big screen facing the Gödör's terrace. Apparently, every party sent their candidate except for the odds-on favourite, Fidesz. That candidate, István Tarlos, is apparently confident enough of that he'll win that he didn't bother with a cycling rally of 10,000 people.

Along with the other major party candidates, the LMP's candidate Benedek Jávor was on hand. The kerékagy blog did a run-down of all the parties' cycling platforms and LMP's stood out as the most elaborate and thoughtful.

I don't know about the Socialists' cycling platform but their candidate, Csaba Horváth (below), was at Gödör giving press interviews ahead of the Q&A event. (He didn't take part in the Q&A-- see comments!)