This weekend, I'm going to keep on checking Streetsblog and The Gothamist for some hot news that might be coming from Mayor Bloomberg.

Rumors are flying that an Earth Day press conference will include announcement about a trial congestion pricing plan - basically, a toll for automobile access of midtown and downtown Manhattan.

This goes in line with the perspective, adopted by liveable streets advocates, that charging for things like parking spaces and automobile access to streets - letting the free market limit access to those resources - will both be the disincentive necessary to start a reduction of automobile use, as well as generate revenue needed to expand public transportation service to some of the outer neighborhoods in the boroughs from which lots of new york city drivers drive.

Several months ago, I watched a movie called "Contested Streets," which discussed the rise of congestion in New York City as well as the anti-congestion measures taken in London, Paris, and a couple other cities.

Traffic congestion can't really be dismissed as a niusance; I think of the possibilities that behavior is tangibly affected by the spaces provided for person to person interaction. Streets are bad, and pedestrian plazas are good. There's a reason why Road Rage is not only a common phenomenon, but a common term - we're all familiar with this effect! Furthermore, in the next decade or so, New York City's population is going to grow by an estimated one million people. Where they will go and how they will get around must be carefully considered and planned for - it must be built, now. And it must be built in a way that is going to be safe, healthy, sensible, and sustainable. Cities have an incredible potential for radical sustainability and low resource use - as long as decision-makers are willing to make dramatic changes.

Congestion procing is a good start.

I'll be clicking "Reload" a bunch this weekend.

As a parting image, this is what Park Avenue used to look like. A park. Actually a park - rolling greens and winding brick paths all the way down. How beautiful!

On the fairly rare occasions that I drive a car, I remind myself to be extra careful. As a biker, I've got firsthand experience with dangers of a moment of inattention or a risky lane change - I have been hit by cars and daily I have the opportunity to take evasive action that would be unnecessary were there a culture of safe, competant driving, and adequate infrastructure for bikers. When I'm driving a car, I don't want to contribute to the dynamic that I hate while biking, so I'm extra careful.

When I'm biking, I try to reign in my frustration with pedestrians. We have to share the same inadequate spaces, we share similar dangers from cars, and we stand to benefit most from (and ought to be united by) the Liveable Streets Movement. However, it is extremely frustrating navigating jaywalking pedestrians. Yelling "Heads up!" or "Coming through!" will get their attention, but too often, people just freeze, or the step further into my path in a confused attempt to get out of my way.

A fraction of a second to react.

This morning: kaboom. He puts his arms up, I go flying. A drawback to weighing a paltry 135lbs is that my momentum wasn't enough to knock him over instead of crashing.

So, my first crash on the Pogliaghi. The bike is fine and I'm fine - physically - but I am annoyed, peeved, disgruntled. Five months I've been commuting in this city, 20 miles a day, and I've gotten in to two crashes. That's a crash every thousand miles of commuting, which is a little bit too high for my liking. It's not my riding that's doing it - it's the conditions: manifestly unsafe. The sidewalks are narrow, the avenues are highways in disguise; the speed is low, but the speed limit is high, so if there is a yellow light or an open strip of asphalt, then there's weight on the gas pedal, a revving of the engines.

Expecting safety on New York City streets makes about as much sense as expecting your Cheerios not to bump each other in the breakfast bowl. Demanding safety? This is something every New Yorker should be doing. Anybody who has ever frowned at a delivery truck gunning it through a red light, anybody who has ever had a cab come too close as it's rounding a corner, anybody who grips their child's hand tightly when they cross the street, saying, "Always look both ways!" Anybody who has ever gotten on a bike, and, more importantly, anybody who finds too many reasons not to ride. Anybody who has ever dodged an SUV. Anybody who walks on Manhattan's narrow, crowded sidewalks and sighs as cars go roaring by. Anybody who looks at the incredible amount of space taken up by gridlocked cars and wonders if maybe it wouldn't be nicer if some of those were plazas, with outdoor cafes, vendors, exchange students playing guitar for quarters... the sights, sounds, and smells of New Yorkers interacting with each other, instead of muttering as they push by each other, competing for scraps of sidewalk space, forced to the edges by a culture that's willing to go to any extent - even destroying a beautiful city - so that everybody can drive where they please.

on Saturday, i went to a memorial ride for Eric Ng, a local cyclist and activist who was killed a little over a week ago by, outrageously enough, a drunk driver driving on a bike path that is physically and significantly seperated from the road. it was really moving - the quiet, somber procession of hundreds of bikers through the village to the spot on the greenway where he was killed, and then friends saying words to honor Eric's memory. "Love and rage," one yelled into the air. Some stood stoney-faced, dark-eyed; others cried. Eric's friends held each other and sung, "go to sleep you little baby..." in the middle of the huge crowd of people standing around the bicycle, chained to a tree, painted white, adorned with flowers. And the strangers, we stood on the edges, watching.

A news reporter was there, interviewing a few people, and I paniced and edged away, afraid of being interviewed as somebody who did not know the person who died. I didn't want to come across - to other people or to myself - as a consumer of the event; this forced me to confront why I was there, and I did, quietly, to myself.

Brian McGloin has got some beautiful photos of the memorial ride.

This morning I got hit by a car. The clarity of the slow-motion pre-impact: it's u-turning. I can't stop in time. It's coming closer. The hood is getting larger. I recall people using the phrase, "going up onto the hood of a car" to talk about accidents. I'm about to roll on to the hood. I'm airborn. My helmeted head hits the pavement. Then, of course, everything stops and re-starts and accelerates and before I know it I pick myself up and am sitting on the curb shaking myself off, inspecting myself, trying to clear my head and figure out what I need to do.

Two cops walk over from where they were chilling across the street. Oh good, I think, sometimes cops can be really useful. "Are you okay?" one asks. I answer, "Yeah, I think so." "Good," he said, "Now: what the fuck were you doing in the middle of the road?" I give him the dumbfounded, you-gotta-be-kidding-me look. I drop a couple of sentences about how there are cars, cargo trucks, and pedestrians between the beams of the elevated train and the curb, and how I was riding in the lane safetly. He tells me he saw me riding on the yellow line all the way down the street, and then he challenges me to call him a liar. The rest of the interaction proceeds like this.

After making my peace with the driver - who was in tears and very grateful that I wasn't hurt - and verifying that my bike was fine (surprisingly! front wheel in true, fork undamaged, frame unhurt! go figure!), I take my leave of the obnoxious cops and the rest of the situation, which pissed me off. My leave-taking, that is.

I should have gotten the driver's information, but I didn't. The cop led me to believe that I could file an accident report but that was the only thing I could do, and he wouldn't tell me what would happen if i filed a report. Due process bullshit - I was in a situation where I was shaken and not thinking and planning well, and I'm completely unaware of my rights and options and the repercussions of my choices.

Part of my thinking was about the driver. I felt no ill will toward him and did not want to unleash a world of bureaucratic bullshit for this nice guy who hugged me when he realized I was okay. In the back of my mind, also, was - what if he's got outstanding warrants, or undocumented residency, or something? What's the worst possible scenario? I wasn't pleased with the options, so I let it drop. I was fine, my bike was fine. I seriously did not want the state involved.

Not pleased with being unaware of the processes of accident follow-up as they pertain to police, the law, accident reports, and insurance dealings (what if my bike was damaged?), I'm doing a little bit of research to put together a "What If I'm Hit" document that can be stored between the spokes of just about anybody's wheels, so that they'll be readily available for consult when it's most necessary.

In other news, the South Bronx Greenway Plan is going to happen. The city is finally taking action to address the many environmental justice and public-space concerns that are regularly raised by residents and community groups in the South Bronx. Included in the plan is 12 acres of waterfront space, 8 miles of green streets, greenways, bike paths, jogging paths... this is pretty rad. Finally.