The other day, El Tiempo published this damning editorial denouncing the so-called 'bici-motos,' or bicycles with small gasoline motors mounted on them, which in plain terms are just small motorcycles.
El Tiempo points out that the "dangerous, illegal and polluting bicimotos" roar along the bike lanes in
"flagrant violation" of the laws banning them and exposing cyclists to dangers from these high-velocity vehicles.
The editorialist, who might not be a cyclist, doesn't mention how unpleasant cycling is when one is stuck behind one of these noisy, fume-spewing vehicles.
A bici-motorist (left) passing a line of bicyclists in a Bogotá bike lane.
"There is no justification for exposing cyclists to such dangers," the editorial concludes.
The problem with these vehicles is sympomatic of several Colombian infirmities: lack of law enforcement, apathy toward pollution and an absurd degree of legalism. The bici-motos enjoy legal immunity thanks either to authorities' apathy or to the legal fantasy that motors smaller than a certain number of cubic centimeters are not really motors at all - even tho they're often noisier and more polluting than automobiles.
Colombia, the nation of magical realism may be the only place where a motorized, three-wheeled vehicle apparently qualifies as a 'bicycle'.
What's the difference? A motorized bicycle waits on the sidewalk, while a regular motorcycle passes on the street.
At least, that's the way it appeared the other day on Carrera Septima's bike lane, which this loud, polluting monstrosity was sharing with cyclists, as police watched apathetically.
For the record, the motorized bicitaxis, which I understand are illegal wherever they are, are, tragically, replacing the traditional pedal-powered bicitaxis. The vehicles' two-stroke engines pump out more pollution than do most cars.
However, it's no big deal. After all, the equally loud and polluting bicimotores have long been invading our bike lanes, in the face of police and other authorities' total apathy.
In the case of the bicitaxi, I chased after it, but it roared down Carrera Septima, charging thru red lights along the pedestrian-only avenue. Do you think anybody cared?
It has an engine, burns fuel, belches smoke and goes vroom. So is it a bicycle or a motorcycle?
Colombian lawmakers are considering pro-cycling laws right now - but unfortunately they likely won't get much priority - and lots of opposition.
A bici-motor in a downtown bike lane.
One would prohibit bicycles equipped with motors from bike lanes. It might just seem like common sense that a bicycle with a motor is, by definition, a motorcycle. However, because the motors' have less than 50 cc of displacement, the city's motor vehicle laws don't cover them, That's despite their being very noisy and often generating more pollution than a car, since their two-stroke engines burn oil.
One complication with banning the motorized bikes from bike lanes is distinguishing them from electric bikes, which are also motor-powered, but don't pollute or make much noise and go much slower than gasoline-powered motor-bikes. The electric bikes aren't a problem, the gasoline-powered ones are.
In any case, if this legislation nears becoming law, you can expect the motor-bikes' makers and users to scream that barring them from bike lanes violates their human rights. But that's not all. Even when they're on the street, they should be equipped with anti-pollution devices and their riders should be licensed.
A second law, in Congress, is intended to promote cycling - actually has some good things: It would provide some financial incentives, albeit small ones, for frequent cyclists, and would also give extra time off for public employees who commute by bike.
Unfortunately, the benefits are slight compared to the huge subsidies given to motor vehicles, such as free parking and subsidized fuel - not to mention the non-stop onslaught of pro-car propaganda.
The law's most important benefit might be a change of mentality legitimizing bike commuting in a climate where many workplaces provide no place for bike parking, much less showers or a changing room.
Businesses will undoubtedly oppose this legislation, as more costs and government regulation. This despite the fact that more bike commuters means healthier employees, and each worker who switches from driving to cycling can mean big savings in less parking.
Both of them have two wheels and a motor. So, what makes one of them a bicycle?
They have motors, make lots of noise, and can belch out more pollution than a car.
So, how can they be bicycles?
A legal opinion from City Hall: A bicycle with a motor is
not a bicycle; it's a motor cycle.
Perversely, because motor vehicle laws cover only vehicles with motors larger than 50 cubic centimeters, the bicycles equipped with motors now proliferating in Bogotá qualify as 'bicycles' in some situations - or, at least, that's what their owners claims.
But a recent opinion by Bogotá's Director of Legal Issues Gloria Inés Bohorquez put the lie to that, at least as far as bike lanes go.
In her analysis, Bohorquez made the sensible conclusion that bike lanes are exclusively for bicycles, which are defined as two-wheeled vehicles propelled by their riders.
In any case, you don't need a rocket scientist to figure out that a bicycle with a motor is a motorcycle.
Yet, for some reason, the thinking persists that, because - absurdly - they don't qualify as motor vehicles, the ciclomotores can still be bicycles, and I see them used frequently on Ciclorutas, the city's bike lanes.
Take this article in today's El Tiempo, which quotes a Ministry of Transport definition of the bicycle
A 'ciclomotor' in a Bogotá bike lane, on Ave. Septima.
as a 'non-motorized vehicle with two or more wheels in line, which is propelled by the energy of its driver by way of pedals.' But, the article says, those motorized bicycles can't be classified as motor vehicles because, sometimes, they operate by their rider's energy.
Under such an absurd definition, every motorcycle qualifies as a bicycle because its owner could potentially get off and push it. Even a car isn't a motor vehicle under such thinking, because its passengers could climb out and push it forward.
In any case, I've almost never seen a rider actually pedal a motorized bicycle - which has a motor for a reason.
The flip side of this legal situation is that, because they supposedly qualify as bicycles, the ciclomotores aren''t covered by motor vehicle laws. They don't pay taxes, their drivers don't need licenses - even tho they can hit 40 kms per hour - and aren't subject to emissions laws, even tho their two-stroke engines can really belch out pollution.
According to this video the ciclomotores are to be banned by decree from the bike lanes and their users required to have licenses. Let us hope.
Should real bicyclists, who don't pollute, be subject to these noisy, dirty, dangerous machines exactly where cyclists are supposed to find refuge: in the city's bike lanes?
Motorized bicycles, called ciclomotores, for sale in central Bogotá.
They're noisy, highly polluting, fast and dangerous - just about everything a bicycle is not. So, can they be called bicycles?
Take a bike, add a motor, and you get a motorbike.
The proliferation of bicycles equipped with 50-cc motors, called ciclomotores, is causing controversy here, and for good reason. These light motorbikes cause lots of pollution, since their loud and dirty two-stroke engines have no emission controls. They're also faster and heavier than normal bikes. And they're just plain unpleasant to be around, especially when you're stuck behind one choking on its fumes.
But their users insist on calling them bicycles, and taking advantage of the privileges of using a bicycle, such as riding in bike lanes, in the National University, and sometimes even on La Ciclovia.
Today, as salesman told me that these ciclomotores start at 850,000 pesos (about $500), or that he could equip my own bike with a motor for 550,000 pesos. They can do 40 kilometers per hour and cover 90 kms on their half-gallon gas tank. There were selling "quite well," he said happily, and gave me his card.
A motorized bicycle on the campus of the National University,
where this guy wouldn't have been able to enter on a
regular motorcycle.
Perhaps these vehicles can play a role in the city, at least for people who can't pedal a bike for some reason. But they should be equipped with basic emissions and noise controls. And, most of all, they should be with other motorized vehicles, since that's what they are.
These things violate all of bicycling's positives: they're dirty, noisy and generally unpleasant and don't do their riders' health any good, since I've almost never seen anybody pedal one. But, they're much cheaper than regular motorcycles and battery-powered bicycles.
A proud motorized bicycle rider.
He zoomed away with a trail of fumes.
City officials say that these things fall into a legal vaccuum, since the laws covering motorcycles are written to apply to vehicles with machines larger than 50 ccs. That's why they can't be legally excluded from bike lanes, sidewalks, or La Ciclovia, which is supposed to be all about health and exercise. Fortunately, however, I have seen the Ciclovia's 'guardianes' applying good sense by telling these motorized monsters to either shut off their motors or leave La Ciclovia. Naturally, adverse as they are to pedaling, they leave La Ciclovia.
Ironically, Bogotá has recently tried to phase out two-stroke engines, which are highly polluting. Unfortunately, the city backed off of this policy in the face of protests by motorcyclists, and now these ciclomotores are making the problem worse.
Do I look like a bicyclist?
Safety's another issue. Imagine pedaling along in a bike lane, feeling protected from vehicle traffic, only to have a motorized bicycle roar past you at 40 kmh and leave you gasping its fumes?
Adding insult to injury, I'm worried that these monsters will discourage riders of real bikes, by making life in Bogotá's bike lanes dangerous and unpleasant.
Bogotá's Ciclorutas are supposed to facilitate the lives of cyclists, but it certainly doesn't always seem that way.
Today, I rode from downtown to the Foreign Ministry to the DAS police headquarters, most of the way on one of Bogotá's most important Ciclorutas, the one on carreras 13 and then 11.
A typical scene on the 'bike route.'
Would anybody tolerate pedestrians blocking cars this way?
Many times, as I hurried behind schedule, I had to brake suddenly and swerve around delivery vehicles, cars (at intersections) and pedestrians, who wandered across the bikeway or suddenly veered into it. I suppose that you can't blame them. While the Cicloruta receives significant use, it's not constant enough to keep pedestrians aware of it. This arrangement is a tragedy waiting to happen. Once, I almost slammed into a woman carrying an infant who wandered across the cycle path.
Even these cops weren't shy about standing in the Cicloruta
I don't usually advocate broadening streets, but in this case an in-street bike lane, with a barrier to protect it from cars, would be much more useful and probably safer than the sidewalk set-up. But on the other hand, it'd force cyclists to swallow even more diesel exhaust.
Hmm...wonder what this Cicloruta, along Jimenez Ave., is used for.
Unfortunately, a substantial number of Cicloruta users were motorized monsters, who belong out on the street. During my ride north and south I encountered five motorized bikes on the Cicloruta. Apparently, no law applies to vehicles with such small engines. Enforcement is another issue. Lacking any pollution or noise controls, motorized bikes are bad enough. But once their presence becomes accepted on Ciclorutas I fear that regular motorcycles will follow.
Bicycle or motorcycle? At least we're cycle-pooling.
After fixing a flat, I arrived at the Foreign Ministry office with only minutes to spare before it closed at 12 noon. I rushed into the automobile parking lot across the street, where I'd left my bike before - but something had changed.
"We don't receive bikes here," the attendant told me.
"But the law requires you to!" I protested.
"Show me the law," he told me.
I had no time to argue, and went around the corner to lock my bike to a tree.
No bicycles allowed any more.
On the way home, a downpour had made room on the Cicloruta.
At least the rain makes room.
On the way, I encountered El Toma Corriente's shop. They sell electric bikes designed in Colombia but built in China out of Chinese, Japanese and Taiwanese parts. (Why can't Colombia build such things competitively???) The bikes cost a bit - 1.8 million pesos ($1,000) and upward. And the batteries must be replaced after about 1,000 recharging cycles - and constitute half of the bikes' cost.
But e-bikes don't pollute or make noise and require much less maintenance than gasoline-powered bikes. And, here in Colombia, where most electricity comes from hydropower, they contribute much less to global warming, as well. I've seen at least two e-bike vendors in Bogotá, (the other sells Ezip Currie bikes) but the guys at El Toma Corriente told me there are about seven.
