“What do
people here in Portland do?” he asked, eager to know. “At 4 AM, when no one is around, do you
stop?”
At first, I
thought he was joking. Is there any place
in the US where cyclists stop at stop signs at 4 in the morning when no one is
around? But he seemed earnest, awaiting
my sage response. Because I am a
Portland native and a 25+ year bike commuter, he must have thought I have some insider
track. But as I considered his question,
I realized that I am but one single biker with my own opinions of right and
wrong. Had he asked my 13 year old
daughter, an avoid rule-follower, he would have gotten a completely different
response. I know what I do. I have a feel for what I see around me, but what
is the official Portland ‘culture’ when it comes to stop signs?
The only
way to find out was to dust off my college anthropology-class tools – a trusty pad
of write-in-the-rain paper and some wool socks - and observe the natives.
I found a
significant observation point from which to gather data for my Stop Sign
Obedience Observation Study. It was
meaningful because the Portland police often choose Ladd Circle in SE Portland
as a place to set up large-scale infraction crackdowns aimed at bicycle
riders. I had recently made a narrow
escape from the stop-sign crackdown - I turned before the cop writing tickets
could wave me over to the side of the road.
I figured my study might serve two purposes. I could answer my friend’s question and
determine whether the cops’ focus on stop sign-blowers at the Circle was
well-placed.
I set up
shop early one sunny afternoon, leaning my bike against a concrete utility housing
and hopping up on top. I sat
cross-legged in my yellow bike slicker, facing SE Ladd as cyclists rode towards
me from downtown on their way home for the evening.
I tracked
all vehicles as they approached the intersection of Ladd with the Circle, where
a red octagonal sign stood, clearly telling them that traffic law required them
to stop. There was no ambiguity here,
but what I witnessed surprised me. In
the one hour I sat there, less than half of all vehicles actually stopped, and
by ‘stop’ I mean wheels stopped turning, a standard I would later
question.
Thirty-six percent of cars
failed to stop and 71% of bikes, which averaged 60% non-compliance among all
vehicle types. The difference between
the behavior of people when they sat behind a steering wheel and when they sat atop a bicycle seat was significant:
34% more bikes disobeyed the law than cars.
As I sat
there, easily identifiable as a biker by my attire and accoutrements, and
obviously taking note of my fellow cyclists, I got a variety of responses. Many tried to behave. A few were successful, others were not. They put down a foot to imply ‘halt of
forward progress,’ even as they continued to roll, or they squeezed on the
brakes all of a sudden when they saw that I was tallying up their actions. A few sneered and made unkind remarks from
afar as if my presence was some sort of a threat or proof of an alliance with
Big Brother or the fuzz.
I tut-tutted
the high rate of disobedience as I watched, but all along, I knew that my own
traffic behavior was no different from those I observed, both on 2 wheels and
4. I felt no guilt for my own infractions, nor
did I judge any of the vehicles harshly, because, despite the overwhelming
number of tallies in the ‘no stop’ column, I did not witness a single dangerous
traffic interaction. In fact, traffic
never slowed and not a single driver or biker seemed uncertain about what those
around them were doing. The lack of a
full complete stop didn’t have much effect on the success of the
intersection.
Indeed, the
traffic circle configuration itself is a serious tease. Traffic circles are meant to speed traffic
along without forcing a stop or the ‘look left-look right-look left’ that is
required at four-way intersections. In
Bend, the traffic circle is meant to be entered and exited without stopping. My data collection point, I decided, was not the
typical intersection on which I could base conclusions about Portland bikers in
general.
As I wrapped up an hour of data
collection, I knew that further study was required to fully answer the question
about what Portland cyclists do when faced with a stop sign. I found two
additional, dissimilar observation points along the same bike corridor. One has a flashing red stop light on a
four-way intersection with decent bike traffic and relatively low
cross-traffic. It is situated on SE 34th
and Clinton. The other data collection
spot is relatively high cross-traffic intersection along the same bike
corridor. It is the four-way stop at SE
26th and Clinton.
I also figured
I needed to measure behavior at different hours of the day to have a
well-rounded definition of how Portland bikers, as a group, behave. So I selected 15 minute increments in the
morning rush hour and similar periods in the afternoon rush. In all, I tallied up 16 sessions of 15
minutes each, a total of 240 minutes.
The Data
I tracked 2,517
vehicles; 1,523 cars and 994 bikes.
There was also one skateboarder, but I didn’t count him (he didn’t
stop). The busiest intersection was 26th
and Clinton, with 1,474 vehicles, followed by Ladds Circle, with 701. The intersection at 34th and Clinton had 342
vehicles. (Note: I measured vehicles from all directions at
the four-way intersections, whereas I had only measured the one direction, the
typical commute pattern, at Ladd’s Circle due to visibility issues.)
The statistics
varied by time of day and by intersection type.
The most extreme sample was on a slow morning, during which 92% of all vehicles
failed to stop. It was at Ladd’s Circle:
95% of bikes did not stop and 83% of cars did not stop (I guess the cops had it
right). Of the people who did stop, it
appeared that they did so only because there were pedestrians in or near the
crosswalk. Driving behavior and biking
behavior was more similar in this sample than in any other. Apparently, no one thinks it is important to
obey the stop sign in the morning when there is very low traffic, regardless of
what conveyance is used. From my
observations of the sparse, one-directional commuting traffic at that hour, it
made perfect sense to me too.
Overall
Traffic Counts at all Three Locations
Morning
Rush
In the
mornings, bikers did not stop much: 75% didn't stop at 26th, with
somewhat heavy four-way action; 85% didn't stop at 34th, a quiet
residential street that nevertheless has a blinking red light; and 95% didn't
stop at Ladd's Circle. Drivers followed
the same pattern, with 26th being the most stopped-at intersection
and Ladd’s the least: 45% didn’t stop at
26th; 56% didn’t stop at 34th; and 83% didn’t stop at
Ladd's (if
the Portland police are looking to write a lot of tickets, Ladd’s Circle is
indeed an area technically ripe with violators).
Conclusion: drivers don’t stop
much either. Of the 938 morning vehicles
at all locations, 33% came to a complete stop and 67% did not (Stoppers =
313, No stoppers = 625). But on average, bikes glided
through the stop signs 34% more than cars did, and surpassed cars in this
measurement for every time period observed.
|
Intersection
|
Bikes –
No Stop
|
Cars – No
Stop
|
TOTAL NO
STOP
|
|
26th
x Clinton
|
75%
|
45%
|
53%
|
|
34th
and Clinton
|
85%
|
56%
|
68%
|
|
Ladd’s
Circle
|
95%
|
83%
|
92%
|
|
TOTALS
|
86%
|
52%
|
67%
|
Afternoon
Rush
The
afternoon commute brought slightly different results. Out of 1,579 vehicles, 983 were cars and 596
were bikes, a surprising number because I always thought there were as many
bikes as cars. Two hundred and thirty
bikes did not stop (61%), and 297 cars did not stop (30%). On average, afternoon commuters did not stop
at stop signs 42% of the time. By
location, cars did not stop at Ladds 36% of the time and bikes 71%; cars did
not stop at 34th 46% of the time and bikes 71%; cars did not stop at 26th 28% of
the time and bikes 48%. Again, bikers
rolled through more often than cars for every location and every period, on
average 31% more.
|
Intersection
|
Bikes –
No Stop
|
Cars – No
Stop
|
TOTAL NO
STOP
|
|
26th
x Clinton
|
75%
|
45%
|
53%
|
|
34th
and Clinton
|
85%
|
56%
|
68%
|
|
Ladd’s
Circle
|
95%
|
83%
|
92%
|
|
TOTALS
|
61%
|
30%
|
42%
|
Even at the
heaviest traffic of the afternoon at 26th and Clinton, 32% of all
vehicles did not stop. But I saw no
accidents, no near misses, not even that “you go – no, you go – no, you go”
behavior that sometimes results from ambiguity among those who share the
road.
Morning
Traffic Counts per Location
Afternoon
Traffic Counts per Location
Totals AM
and PM Rush Hours
|
Intersection
|
Bikes –
No Stop
|
Cars – No
Stop
|
TOTAL NO
STOP
|
|
26th
x Clinton
|
57%
|
33%
|
39%
|
|
Ladd’s
Circle
|
79%
|
49%
|
71%
|
|
34th
and Clinton
|
83%
|
53%
|
64%
|
|
TOTALS
|
|
|
|
Definition
of “Stop”
I used the
legal ‘complete stop’ threshold for determining whether behavior qualified as
stopping or not. As I tallied up
hundreds of commuters, this standard revealed itself as less and less useful
when comparing cars and bikes. Because
of their slower overall speed, bike riders have just as long, if not longer, to
approach an intersection, observe the participants and determine whose turn
comes next. For the most part, they slow
down sooner and move slowly for longer as they evaluate the timing and safety
of crossing. Rarely does this require a
complete stop. If a bike were to stop,
it takes longer for them to get started again than it does for a car.
As drivers,
we approach intersections faster, decelerate later and faster, and spend less time
gathering data about the likely traffic pattern. We are also able to accelerate quicker when
we start up again. Because of these more
dramatic differences in auto travel speed, acceleration and deceleration, when
a car approaches a stop sign and rolls through without actually coming to a
complete stop, it looks more like a stop than when a cyclist does the same. About halfway through my study, I realized
that I was guilty of this bias in perception, causing me to question my
data. But I persevered, consciously
noting the movement of spokes and hubcaps as a way to focus more accurately on
a halt of forward motion. I wondered if
police officers have a trick to overcome this bias.
As traffic
participants, however, I don’t think we care much about stopping perfection in
our own behavior or in that of others.
We do appear to understand and accommodate a slightly different set of
physical and logistical factors when bicycles are part of the equation. In fact – I think all bikers have experienced
this on occasion - some drivers motion for bikes to go ahead even if it is not
their turn.
For
this reason, I believe that experienced Portland drivers and bike riders
probably agree that not stopping can be the most courteous thing to do at
intersections: it allows the next intersection participant to make their move
sooner. The difference between people’s
behavior when they are in cars versus on bikes is simply one of degree. We are almost all guilty of not executing
textbook stops as required by the law, but it is much easier to do so, or
appear to do so, when in a car.
Results
The
compiled data from all locations, mornings and afternoons, supports this. Only 49% of all vehicles stopped: 62% of
cars stopped and 29% of bikes. (The only
vehicle type with a perfect stop score was TriMet busses.)
The
busiest intersection had the most stoppers in both cars and bikes. At 26th and Clinton, 61% of
vehicles stopped – 67% cars and 43% bikes.
Curiously, I saw close similarities between people in cars and people on
bikes in the extreme opposite situation as well. During both the heaviest traffic and the lightest,
bikes and cars behaved more similarly than in moderate traffic scenarios. Across all times and vehicle types, the
intersection at 34th and Clinton, where cross-traffic was minimal
and total vehicle counts were the lowest, saw the highest incidence of not
stopping: 84% of bikes did not stop and
53% of cars did not stop.
The
data tells me that a little over half the time, Portlanders technically obey
the law at stop signs. But functionally,
most of the interactions I observed worked as the intersection designers
intended. Most of the people I saw took
the following steps: they approached the
intersection, slowed considerably, looked both ways, allowed the waiting cross
traffic to proceed if they were there first, and then continued to creep ahead
until it was their turn, then accelerated through the crossing. I marked all of those people as non-stoppers,
even though they treated the other vehicles respectfully and, I like to think,
made the entire interaction more efficient.
I did not have a special tally mark for rude intersection non-stoppers –
people who zoomed through without waiting their turn or in such a manner that
the smooth, expected flow of traffic was
interrupted. Had I, there would only
have been 10 hash marks in that column, and all of them would have been
2-wheeled travelers.
Out
of 2,517 vehicles, 1,229 stopped (51%) and 1,288 did not (49%). Nine hundred forty five of those that stopped
were cars and 284 were bikes. Five
hundred and seventy eight cars did not stop while 710 bikes did not stop. Portlanders, when on their bikes, tend not to
execute perfect stops at a significantly higher rate than when they are in
their cars.
Now
I can answer my out-of-town friend. Half
of Portlanders stop, whether in a car or on a bike. Most bikers don’t stop. The bottom line is this: like marijuana, ignoring stop signs is
illegal, hence it carries the risk of a ticket.
Does that make it dangerous? Let your conscience
be your guide.
