The Troubling Rise of the Ghost Bike

On group rides earlier this summer in Boulder, Colorado, fellow cyclists would point out ghost bikes like they would potholes and rocks, with an outstretched arm and a flash of an index finger. There’s one for the college athlete from South America who overcooked a steep corner into oncoming traffic. Here’s another for a young father with three school-age kids and a passion for road racing; he was taken out by a sunburned drunk driver with half a 32-pack of domestic swill in her system. Take a right turn and there’s a third whited-out shrine for the Ironman triathlete who was killed while she rode within the cones, according to the legal team her family hired—the police said otherwise. (The police, a lawyer friend of mine recently vented to me, seem to always side with drivers over cyclists.)

Those were three of the seven biking deaths (plus at least two near-fatal traumatic brain injuries of former pro cyclists) that occurred in Boulder County within a roughly 12-month window culminating in 2017. The deaths and injuries roiled the cycling community.

Of that count, only in one death and one traumatic brain injury (that came with a severed arm) were the cyclists unquestionably at fault, both pushing Tour de France speeds on descents with oncoming traffic. For the rest, you can blame drivers who are distracted (the cause of 72 percent of all bike and car incidents, according to the Governors Highway Safety Association), intoxicated, or just downright aggressive on ever-busier roads. And to remind you, this tally comes from Boulder, possibly the most bike-friendly and bike-aware city this side of Brussels. That same 2015 study by the GHSA estimated an additional 55 cyclists died nationwide, with the median age creeping up to 45 as more adults ride bikes for fitness and recreation.

Bike lanes and bike paths and free pancakes for commuters aren’t enough. Cyclists need to own their safety—there’s no denying that—but they also need to advocate for themselves. A new Boulder nonprofit is doing exactly that and should serve as a template for cycling towns everywhere. Cyclists 4 Community began as a fundraising enterprise to help the victims of the 2013 floods that devastated the towns of Jamestown and Lyons, popular destinations with area cyclists. The efforts were successful, with more than $250,000 raised to date. (Full disclosure: I ride with the C4C organizers and helped them develop promotional materials after the floods.)

After the towns were rebuilt, C4C found a long-term purpose in advocating for bike safety. Today, the group uses its fundraising and unifying chops to lobby local government to place lighted signs on busy cycling routes, reminding drivers and cyclists to share the road and to expect heavy traffic. One effort, says C4C’s Russ Chandler, co-owner of Boulder’s Full Cycle bike shop, is to petition the town’s transportation officials to build a short section of dedicated bike path to get road and gravel cyclists safely past a dangerous stretch of highway (two ghost bikes) and out onto the less-congested county roads. C4C also works with existing groups pushing for safe bike routes to schools. And the group has opened talks with the local mountain bike club to see how they can work together in getting mountain bikers to trailheads more safely. C4C also buys bike lights at cost or wrangles donations and hands them out for free. Even the strongest Boulder cyclists now run blinking taillights during daylight hours—a habit that was considered taboo only a few years ago. Locally, much of the credit for that belongs to C4C.

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