War Of Wheels Boiling Over As Bike Couriers Vie WithCars
By Joseph Hall, TORONTO STAR, July 15, 1990
Okay, so they dress really weird.
And they may sometimes completely ignore the rules of the road.
There also may well be something slightly irksome about the way theydart, wasp-like, through clogged traffic, flaunting their free wheels whileyours are stuck fast in a seemingly endless downtown jam.
But what they can't understand is why so many people seem to dislikethem.
In a city where the increasing in ability to move on the roads is atconstant loggerheads with the increasing demand to have things moved, theverdict on bicycle couriers probably-lies somewhere between scourge andsalvation And in the case of the Spandexed kamikazes, between is a prettybig space.
They swarm at an unnoteworthy brick building on Charlotte St. a slipof a road between King and Adelaide St.., just east of Spadina Ave.
Inside the offices of Sunwheel Bicycle Couriers, the city’s largestbike courier company, about 20 sweaty men and women gather after a longday of perpetual motion.
'There is no question that; of people think we are at fault for a lotof the traffic problems we have, says Terry Cantwell, a 28 year-old courierwho, in the lingo of the trade, has spent three winters on the road.
"But when's the last time you heard of a family of five being killedby a cyclist. We don't do nearly as much damage as cars."
Cars are the keynote of the chant raised by Cantwell and his colleaguesanytime they're challenged with allegations of roadway recklessness.
"Taxi drivers, people in cars, they disregard the rules far morethan people on bikes,"he says. "When you see a taxi up ahead,he might as well have a sign on the car saying 'Watch out, I'm going todo something stupid'."To drive the point home there’s a photocopiedclipping tacked to the room's dull gray wall about a freak traffic accidentin Cambridge, Ont., in which a bicycle demolished a car.
Below it some wag has written: Cars 999,999,999 - Bikes l.
"You see we're an identifiable group and if a cyclist breaks thelaw, we all get the rap," says Tom Nicholson, a five-year veteranof the road.
"And people in cars, not only don't respect us, they don't eventhink we have a right to be there. Everyone in this room has been in acollision with someone who's done something stupid in a car."
There's a grudging admission by those gathered around the room's largewooden tables that some couriers habitually break the law to deliver theirgoods and services.
"But they are usually the inexperienced ones"says Kelly Dealhoy.a Queen's University biochemistry major pedalling her summers toward adegree."The good ones get there fast by learning the city and thelegal shortcuts. The good ones aren't up on the side-walks or running stopsigns.
But for Metro Councillor Howard Moscoe, who is heading an effort toget bicycle couriers licensed , it’s the nature of the business to be reckless.
"You can't tar all bicycle couriers with the same brush,"Moscoe says, before proceeding to spread tar liberally.
"But it's free enterprise on wheels. The whole system just encourages(the couriers) to whiz around as fast as they can, bowling people over,bolting in front of cars and causing havoc."
Bike couriers, Moscoe notes are paid strictly on commission, with theirtake determined solely by the number of deliveries they make.
"Right now there is just an inability to protect the general publicwho happen to be walking down the sidewalk" says Moscoe, chairmanof the Metro Licensing Commission, which has a subcommittee studying thelicensing proposal.
"There have to be some standards. They have to be identifiableand there is the possibility of requiring testing for some sort of basicskill level."
Licensing couriers will make it possible to force them to obtain liabilityinsurance, says Moscoe, who hopes to have some kind of regulations in placewithin a year.
"It will also give us some idea of how many are out there. If youstand at the corner of Queen and Bay, you'd swear there was a million ofthem."
The most recent count of bicycle couriers was done about two years agoand put them at between 200 and 240, says Toronto planner Daniel Egan,an adviser to the city's cycling committee.
Egan, who admits there are problems with the couriers, is more inclinedto support them than Moscoe.
"It's a tough life. It's a school of hard knocks, literally,"he says.
"Most of them don't last that long and I expect it's the ones whojust get in and get out who cause most of the problems."
Egan suggests that paying the couriers an hourly wage would slow themdown. He says they may well be a better option than taxis, trucks and vansfor delivering in the downtown core.
But for the couriers themselves, who say $500 a week is the top endof the pay scale, the hassles and hours - up to 12 a day- are a small priceto pay for the freedom of the open road.
There are vast differences in their ages and backgrounds and aspirations.In this room they range in age from 22 to 42. There are students, truckdrivers, office workers and artists.
"It's rebellion", says 26-year-old Kevin Lehman.
"I'm not in the business world. I'm not a suit. I'm not tryingto impress anybody," Lehman says. "The only person I have toworry about is the guy who signs the receipt and myself."
"It's a good life. I love it," says Frank Liddy, 39, who tookup his bicycle eight months ago. "It's the way man was meant to live,get out and exercise. I feel about 10 years younger."
Cramped mentally and physically, Cantwell gave up an office chair fora bike seat and has sat on it through rain, snow, and summer sun for thepast three years.
"Coming from an office experience I find a more laid-back attitudetoward life," he says.
"When you get into an office your whole mind gets an office mentality.You have to schmooz everyone, play office politics. Here, you get on yourbike, get on the street and get going."
This common thread often creates strong bonds between the couriers,who spend a lot of off-road time together.
"Mostly we talk about the close calls and the weird things yousee every day you work the streets in this city," says 22-year-oldLeslie Halden.
"But it's not like New York city, where couriers band togetherto protect each other," she says.
These rebels often express their nature more graphically in their dress.
The colors of a toucan in a blender, the Spandex shorts, bandannas,tank tops, and signature bike gloves are unmistakeable signs of a courier.
But the Sunwheel bunch, who are required by company policy to tone downtheir get-ups, say there's practicality behind the pizzazz.
The bandanas are worn around the neck to carry note pads and the microphonesfrom the radios that are their lifeline to their dispatchers.
Their tops are cool and the gloves save skin during almost inevitablespills.
If you have comments or suggestions, email me at messvilleto@yahoo.com