Drivers Must Share The Road With Bicycles

A two-part demonstration illustrates to motorists the simple difference between life and death on the road.

Part one: With the heel of your right foot on the floor, flex your ankle to tilt the toes back toward your face.

Part two: Raise your hands in front of your chest and pretend you are holding a steering wheel. Rotate it slightly to the left. Then slightly to the right.

Easy, wasn’t it?

That’s all it takes to safely share the pavement with a bicyclist.

The ease of this driving maneuver did not escape the 200-some cyclists who rode a 10-mile loop Tuesday as a memorial to Cooper Jones.

The 13-year-old boy died last week from injuries suffered when a Cadillac hit him from behind. The boy had been pedaling in a Badlands Cycling Club time trial on State Route 904 west of Cheney.

Time trials are a personal race against the clock. Riders start individually at intervals. Although numerous riders can be on the course at once, time trial rules prohibit riding together or drafting behind another rider to reduce wind resistance.

Time trials are the safest of all bicycle racing sports.

Still, Cooper is gone.

This isn’t a time to take shots at the woman who lives with the nightmare of the boy’s body slamming the windshield, sliding over the front bumper and dragging under her car.

The issue is the mind-set of the American driver. The motorhead urge to be king of the road. The “Get outta my way, buster!” attitude even wimps can enforce with a ton of horsepower, bumpers and fenders.

The issue is motorists such as the one in the white Infiniti on Hangman Road.

Some background:

The week before the Cooper Jones tragedy, State Patrol officers warned Badlands Cycling Club riders of complaints that their road races were dangerous and illegal.

Unlike time trials, road races begin with a mass start. Crossing the centerline, however, is grounds for disqualification.

Road races resemble church group rides, except that the racers go much faster. Both types of group riders occasionally break the state law that forbids riding more than two abreast.

During the same week, Sam Joseph, a local physician and bicyclist, joined his regular group of half a dozen cyclists for training rides. A driver in a white Infiniti roared around the pack one day, honking and shaking a fist at the bikers.

The next day, the same luxury vehicle tried to blow them off the road.

“The car zipped right off my handlebars,” Joseph said. “It was senseless. You could see a long way in both directions and there was no traffic.”

A few days later, Joseph was racing the clock in a time trial that suddenly and violently changed to a race for life.

Another rider frantically jacked up the Cadillac to drag the body free while Joseph dumped his bike and began doing what he could to revive Cooper Jones.

On July 3, the day after the boy finally succumbed to the massive injuries, state troopers and Department of Transportation officials told Badlands Cycling Club members they would have to ride to the letter of the law.

A trooper was quoted on radio and TV warning that bikers need to be more judicious in how they ride.

The timing was sad.

A kid dies after being hit from behind by a Cadillac, and state officials react with a warning to cyclists.

The drivers who terrorize bicyclists aren’t necessarily hicks with a beer in one hand and a gun rack in the rear window. They aren’t hormone-charged teenagers as often as they are normal, productive citizens who simply chose to be idiots behind the wheel of a car.

After the Cooper Jones tragedy, Sam Joseph was training with the usual group of riders when the white Infiniti passed them again on Hangman Road.

“That time, the car pulled around without incident and gave us plenty of room,” Joseph said.

Three explanations for the courtesy come to mind:

The driver was half asleep and didn’t see the bikers in time to make a good stab at blowing them off the road.

News accounts of the Cooper Jones tragedy had made an impression.

The driver didn’t want to risk scratching the pretty white car.

, DataTimes The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = Rich Landers The Spokesman-Review