I don’t live in Deep Creek.  I don’t drive I-464 into work every morning.  I don’t even drive to work.

Twilight of the automobiles

Nonetheless, my 3-mile evening commute by bike was impacted by a fatal crash that shut down I-64 at the High Rise Bridge in Chesapeake from noon to sunset, triggering a gridlock of traffic in Downtown Norfolk.

There were, of course, a number of other factors: light-rail construction in Norfolk won’t be finished up for another year, leaving an ever-shifting network of detours, lane restriction and temporary traffic signs. And Tidewater Drive is restricted to local traffic just north of Downtown. To further complicate matters, a mile-long coal train was pulling into the rail yard at Lambert’s Point. Between Hampton Boulevard and Tidewater Drive there are eight north-south roads that cross the railroad tracks, but only four of them pass beneath the tracks, and the easternmost, Tidewater Drive, was shut down for repairs at the railroad crossing. With just three routes under the tracks, traffic gelled even more solid. Add in a few tailgating, distracted drivers and voila! fender benders were spreading faster than storm waters at high tide…

Lest we forget, let us now name the elephant in the room: Single Occupant Vehicle Disorder, or S.O.V., as Hampton Roads Transit has named it. Our roads are clogged with cars carrying only a single person. It doesn’t take a genius to see that a two-ton, gasoline-powered truck might not be the most rational or economic method of transporting a two hundred-pound human being from one side of town to the other….

Not only did the number of cars registered in Virginia increase 25% in the 1990’s (and has likely increased at least as much in this decade), but the number of miles traveled by person increased by 6%. There are more people driving, more cars on the road, more vehicle-miles travelled, and everyone in spending more time in their driving. (Data from Hampton Roads Transportation: Its Problems and Its Future)

I’ve lived in Norfolk for the better part of two decades. I don’t need to ask VDOT for the status of highway construction:  I-64 has not gotten 50% wider. I-264 has not added any lanes since the toll booths were torn down on what was once the Virginia Beach Expressway.

Hardcore

So in a traffic event as freakish and fun as a Virginia Beach blizzard, I ride my bike through a stilled-life portrait of cars in the city. With impish delight I pretend that Norfolk is New York, the Berkley Bridge is the Brooklyn Bridge.  I dance on two pedals and two wheels down a fluctuating path between rows of steel boxes: those to the left idling and spewing hydrocarbon exhaust, those to the right resting and huddled against the curb in the American promised land known as “free” parking.  (There ain’t no such thing as “free parking,” only indirectly subsidized parking. More on that in a later article…)

For a few, brief miles I felt as though I had reclaimed the streets for the bicycles. I rolled quietly north, moving easily through piles of cars tied up at traffic lights. I hummed along to the sound of a single iPod earbud, and thought, “yeah, this is why I ride.”

I don’t want to be a slave to a car. Inasmuch as I may own an object, that object owns me.  Strapped behind an airbag, I mutely wait my turn at the traffic light, and then vent my frustration by tailgating, speeding, and talking on my phone.

But on my bike, I’m freer. I move at my own pace, not pushed on by the impatient tailgater behind me. Traffic lights become suggestions: stop if there’s traffic, roll if it’s clear.

Want real freedom?  Put the fun between your legs & ride a bike…