When I first started biking in Richmond a few years ago, I used the Lombardy bike lane almost daily. It’s not a perfect piece of infrastructure (it could be wider in places and would be better with physical protection) but it’s a critical and well-used connector from Northside to the Fan. Biking in this lane offers a pleasant (if brief) vacation from cycling in traffic but it ends abruptly, dumps cyclists onto Broad Street, and forces them to merge with vehicular traffic (which is challenging, dangerous, and uncomfortable).
The moment Where The Bike Lane Ends was almost always the worst part of my bike commute. If I didn’t love biking and weren’t incredibly stubborn, one or two experiences like this might have pushed me off my bike and back into my car—and I’m young and able-bodied. Moments like these must be even more terrifying and frustrating for those who are less-abled or more risk-averse. If our streets and bike lanes are really for people of all ages and abilities, what happens at the ends of bike lanes is critical. Bike lanes should never force cyclists into sudden, dangerous situations.
When I first encountered The End of the Lombardy Bike Lane, I was new to bicycle planning. I wondered why anyone who cared enough to build a bike lane in the first place would design one that dumped cyclists into Broad Street. Now I can guess why: on-street parking spaces. Anyone who has attended a public meeting about any project that proposed removing on-street parking spaces knows that re-purposing public space from low- or no-cost private vehicle storage to public mobility space angers a vocal minority. But it’s important to have this difficult conversation about how we use public space.
On Lombardy, 30 parked cars stand in the way of having safe, continuous, dedicated bike lanes south of Broad to Monument Avenue (on both sides of the street). If the entire public street space on every one of those eight blocks were dedicated to moving people (on bikes) rather than storing personal vehicles, it would be safe and comfortable for anyone to bike from Virginia Union University (including everyone from Northside who uses the coming-soon Brook Road bike lane) all the way through the Fan. Letting these parked cars continue to occupy prime public space means the difference between people on bikes feeling vulnerable and nervous and those same people feeling safe, comfortable, and welcome. Creating a safe, protected bike lane along Lombardy, as part of a wider network, would encourage more people to bike.
Obviously, The Lombardy bike lane would be an even more useful connector if it continued, on both sides, to Park Avenue or the Floyd Avenue Bike-Walk Street or even (gasp) all the way to where Lombardy ends at Cary Street. But on each block, there are a handful of parked cars.
The benefits of improving cycling networks are numerous and well-documented: they’re great for business, boost property values, improve health, make everyone safer and reduce congestion for everyone (yes, you read that right—building bike lanes reduces congestion for vehicles too, a statistic you’ll understand if you’ve ever driven behind someone forced to bike in the car lane).
So let’s re-think the way we use our incredibly valuable (and limited) street space. Should it be used for static vehicle storage (parking) or dynamic human movement (a bike lane)? Shouldn’t our public spaces promote public safety, health, and mobility? So let’s look at Lombardy south of Broad Street and make the corridor safer and more inviting for people biking.