After reading the very interesting story in the last WW-P News about the Henry and Eileen Murphy’s experiences biking and working out on West Windsor roads, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to comment on my own observations and experiences on these subjects over the past five decades or so in this place. In that time I have seen it “all.” That is, the slow progression from a mostly rural setting to the growing residential community we have today.
When we moved to Grovers Mill in 1957 there were many two-lane roads in West Windsor that did not even have a white line painted down the middle. Drivers kept to the right because that was the law, and if everyone did that, driving would be safe. Sidewalks were almost nonexistent, and if you insisted on walking on a road without one, it was understood it was at your own risk. After all you were living in the “country,” where slow-moving farmers’ tractors sometimes had the right-of-way. And roads were built for vehicles in the first place.
Under those conditions you had a healthy respect for motor vehicles, and you kept out of their way. There were no marked crosswalks or other traffic control methods to aid pedestrians. I had learned about such conditions growing up in the city — Brooklyn — during the 1930s.
In my neighborhood our only nearby playground was the street, and you learned to play in traffic safely. We all knew that cars were much faster, larger, and harder than we were, and if one hit us the result could be very serious. So it was no big deal to wait for the cars to go by before the next pitch in the stick-ball game. If the game was touch football you could get hurt badly just running into a tree on the sidewalk. One guy I knew broke his nose that way.
Bicycling in the city then was definitely at your own risk. You were not allowed to bicycle on the sidewalk, and the cars on the road were not obliged to let them go first. Most kids I knew in the densest part of the city didn’t even want to own a bicycle. If you really liked to use wheels you used roller skates — the ones with four wheels on each foot and a skate key. In-line skates and things like skate-boards didn’t exist, although some kids made their own “skate boxes,” a wooden shipping box fastened to a wooden plank with skate wheels underneath. You used it like a scooter.
Today in a semi-rural place like West Windsor, where there are alternatives like parks to playing in the street, those who believe in drivers sharing the roads with pedestrians and cyclists have a tough job, mainly because there are so many different situations to cope with. It’s been a very good thing to have organizations like West Windsor Bicycle and Pedestrian Alliance take the lead in helping educate everyone about the problems and solutions.
But I sometimes wonder if the solutions have not stressed pedestrian education strongly enough. Cars are still much faster, larger, and harder than people. As a driver my worst problem is on roads without sidewalks where pedestrians sometimes walk with the traffic flow. Pedestrians and runners should always proceed against traffic, since they can see what’s coming that way.
Bicyclists should go with the traffic, assuming the road is wide enough or is designated as one with a marked bike lane. But when it comes to a situation where a choice must be made, the bike must give way, even though it may seem unfair — the car is still faster, larger, and harder.
Working out — or running — on the roads of West Windsor is something I started back in the ’60s, when nearby Steele Drive had just been built in Grovers Mill along with a few houses. We referred to it as “the new road.” The idea of people approaching 40 years of age taking up competitive running was just starting in California, and so-called “masters running” was catching on across the country.
As a one-time college runner, I joined in — seriously. After running a lap around Steele Drive early each morning for a year or so, I joined several other local runners for regular Sunday morning runs on Robert Reed’s farm on Rabbit Hill Road — where Bennington Drive is now. The late Bob Kehoe was my most regular running partner at the farm. There were several others who joined us at times.
Once a group — not including me — decided to run farther than they could just at the farm and went out to Route 571. It was reasonably safe for runners then. They ran to Hightstown and beyond, just on 571. They felt really good and kept running until they saw a sign that said “Toms River next right.” They decided that they had run far enough, and one of them found a phone booth where he called home for his wife to come pick them up. That was enough adventure for that group.
I stuck to the Sunday mornings at the farm plus about 30 or 40 miles around township roads during most weeks — early in the morning. I kept up with the competitive running for several decades and had a few successful races for my age group on a national scale. In total I have probably covered more than 10,000 miles on West Windsor roads over the years.
Over all running in West Windsor was pretty safe most of the time, but you had to be aware that drivers were not used to seeing people running along the side of the roads. Once I was running along the south side of Village Road West on a Sunday morning. There hadn’t been a car in sight for a half-hour. Then a pick-up truck came speeding toward me in the east-bound lane. It was close to the side of the road, so I signaled with my hand that he might get a little closer to the center of the road.
The terrain just off the road paving was very rough and hard to run on. The driver ignored my signal, and after passing me, slammed on his brakes and, as I turned to look, yelled expletives at me for daring to tell him how to drive. I never signaled to a driver again in another 30 years of working out on West Windsor roads.
Safety is a two-way enterprise. Cyclists, runners, and other pedestrians are just as responsible as drivers are in keeping the shared roads safe for everyone.
