Geri Bossen
I also think there is a law about if you have waited for over 2 minutes at a red light and there is no traffic you may proceed with caution. That would make it ok to precede if no car came.
Geri
> Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2011 12:10:33 -0800
> From: redmagoo@msn.com
> To: obra@list.obra.org
> Subject: [OBRA Chat] Red lights, cyclists and LOPD . ..
>
> All the races are canceled this weekend, and more nasty weather is predicted; so, maybe this is a good time to relate the end of my cycling ticket drama. Go get a hot chocolate and get ready for a Disney ending.
> The story began last August at 5:45 a.m. when I got a ticket on my bicycle for running a red light on northbound Boones Ferry in Lake Oswego. If you are unfamiliar with the intersection with Country Club and Kerr, northbound Boones Ferry is two lanes; the right one has a nice bike lane and uninterrupted car lane y-ing east to downtown L.O. The left lane, which continues northbound, has a light. The light is only triggered by cars, which are scarce at that time of day. The light remains red unless a car triggers it.
> Through that desensitization that comes from familiarity, if there was no cross traffic in view, I had come to habitually slow, check over my shoulder to see if a car was on the way to trigger the light. If there was, then I would wait. If not, then I'd mosey on through (if there was no cross traffic).
> That is more or less what I did on the morning in question. There was a car waiting to turn left (east) in front of me. I had looked over my shoulder and seen no cars coming to trigger the light. However, because there was the car at the light in front of me waiting to turn left, I decided to stop. I had almost stopped -- having fully downshifted to be ready to start again up the hill -- when the car proceeded through the intersection. This cyclist thought to herself, "oh, then the hypothetical cross traffic has a red light, and so I'll go on through the intersection." Within seconds, I saw flashing lights reflecting off the pavement and felt them closing in on me.
> I stopped and turned around. It was a motorcycle policeman. My first thought was, "where the heck did he come from?!" He admonished me because I had "never stopped pedaling." I felt intimidated and squeaked something out between gasps for air about how the car in front of me had turned left and so I proceeded. There was no more dialogue. He took my license and came back with a citation for running a red light: $295. He did remember to tell me to have a nice day. Right. I was going to get right on that.
> Immediately I became the self-designated poster child for indignation! How could he?! How am I supposed to get through that light?! Few were sympathetic. A coworker, whose husband is a state trooper asked, "well, did you run the light?" Oh, the agony of being such a misunderstood cyclist, with our unique trials and tribulations! Every morning commute through the intersection found my mind orchestrating the events of the trial that I would ask for. With the exception of a narrow sliver of doubt, I was certain the judge would understand. I received phone counseling from one of our cycling legal eagles, and I hoped to point out the impossibility of getting through the intersection. My argument was bolstered by imaginary long waits at this light, looking for cars to come. The truth is that, on most weekday mornings, someone came within a minute or so. Weekends and holidays were preposterously long. I knew those would be the days that this stealthy officer would be w
> aiting to catch me again. So, I waited for the light and waited for my day in court. (okay, sometimes I proceeded, but only after scouring the landscape for motorcycles.)
> That sliver of doubt about an outright dismissal prompted me to call the court and inquire about probation or safety classes in lieu of a fine. I was told that I had to talk to the judge at my trial about probation. Because of my work complications, the court postponed my trial until late December. The officer was there, and the judge was a visiting judge (the regular judge was on holiday).
> The foreshadowing was evident from the start. They called my name when I had slipped away to the bathroom, almost getting myself cited as a no-show. I proceeded to ask immediately to discuss probation, but I was told that we had entered the guilt-innocence phase of the trial and it was too late for that. When I explained to the judge that I commute to work and that the light is only triggered by cars, he asked me, "so, you're saying that, as long as I commute to work on my bike I have a right to run every red light between my house and work?!" When I tried to explain that I was actually in the process of stopping even though I was still pedaling, the judge admonished me to continue, telling me "I know how to ride a bike." Things looked about as bad as they could. My heart was racing as though I was about to start a cyclocross race.
> To add insult to injury, I learned from the policeman's testimony that, when he pulled me over, he was on the way to work. Yes, he was off duty!! And, he said he saw me pass through the light from a cross street that was over 100 yards from the intersection (and he was in the right lane, continuing to L.O.). He readily admitted there were no cars at the intersection. In fact, he disputed with me that there was a car that turned left in front of me (I have since then concluded that he was so far away that the little apex of the hill must have precluded his view of the car). He also readily admitted that only cars trigger the light.
> I don't need to tell you that I was found guilty. The judge at least reduced my fine to $235 or so. If I had been frustrated by the ticket I received, I was now hurt by the treatment I'd received in the courtroom. The whole thing seemed like a bad dream. I had to gag the vitriol that was fighting for control of my voice box. Quietly, I paid my fine and left.
> Remember this has a Disney ending. And it starts with you OBRA chat monsters. I came home and posted a cry-mail about what had just happened, and I got so much support that I felt immediately better. Thank you for that. I considered appealing, but quickly realized that, since this was a court of record, I'd have to pay $230 to file an appeal at the Court of Appeals. That seemed like a double-or-nothing I was not willing to accept. I tried to move on and forget about it.
> Then I came home about a week or so later and found an e-mail that said "LOPD Citation." I thought, "oh, great, what did I do this time?!" The police chief wrote that it had come to his attention that I had been denied rights that other citizens of Lake Oswego have been offered, and he wanted me to call the municipal court about it. He also expressed his opinion that the officer at the scene had not conducted himself in a manner consistent with the LOPD mission. If that wasn't enough to make me feel better, he wrote, "make no mistake about how upset I am that this happened." After reading the e-mail five times, I confess, in all honesty, I cried. The hurt from how I feel that I'd been treated at the scene and in the courtroom was finally safe to release. Not big boo hoos. But tears. What was cool about it was that I no longer felt like the poster child for indignation. I was in the big sausage grinder of life, and I was experiencing community and grace. I was exp
> eriencing redemption.
> As the police chief instructed, I called the court and was advised that I could take a "Share the Road" class and get my ticket forgiven. Evidently, this class would have been routinely offered, but I had a visiting judge who did not know the policies of the court room. I asked who I had to thank for this turn of events, and I was informed that the court reporter from the trial brought it to the police chief's attention. I paid the $30 to take the class and learned a little about safety.
> Last Thursday, as the snow was beginning to fall, I went to the municipal court to deliver my certificate of completion and get closure on this saga. Before going, I made cookies and signed a card for the court reporter who had gone above and beyond the call of duty to bring my experience to the police chief's attention. It cannot be ignored that one of the highlights of this experience is getting to know the LOPD police chief. I am convinced that my little suburb's police force is led by a great man with an even greater heart, and as a consequence, my view of LOPD is a little different than it was on that morning in August. If there is such a thing as mutual redemption, it has happened here.
> For anyone who is still reading, you may wonder about the practicality of how a bicycle should proceed if in the same situation. My boyfriend, who commutes the same route two hours later than me, usually never has to deal with it because there is plenty of traffic. But in the snow the other day, he found himself, as he said, "stranded." After waiting a while, he sprinted across the intersection, "feeling ridiculous." I know the feeling. Here's the prevailing wisdom: stop, look, no cars, go. No one can control what a given officer would do in the situation, and they do like to exercise their discretion. But it seems that my ticket was an aberration.
> And for those who are wondering about cycling improvements to the intersection, I have information about that as well. Placing a post with a button is too dangerous because it would have to be on the little island, making it a road hazard to vehicles who might hit it. Running a line across the road and making a little bike lane trigger is a possibility. It would have to go above the road (on existing lines) to keep it cheap. I had hoped to descend on the city council to advocate for cycling in LO -- better bike routes and fixing certain intersections. But it seems the timing is bad for financial reasons. I am assured that there is a fancy plan in place to improve the entire route up Boones Ferry to Terwilliger but that it is very expensive and must deal with wetlands complications. One day.
> Well, hope you enjoyed the story. It just seemed like I needed to tell you the rest of it, since I hadn't checked in since my cry mail. The OBRA community is so very special.
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