Renton bike-trail death was a tragedy – Editor’s note

Velda Mapelli didn’t have to die.

The 83-year-old Renton woman, who was tragically hit by a cyclist on Renton’s Cedar River Trail last week, underscores one of the biggest problems of our otherwise wonderful trail system.

The price for combining pedestrians and cyclists on one road has to be uncompromising vigilance.

I am an avid cyclist, trail rider and walker, and I have seen all manner of unusual behaviors on our trail systems. In fact, it surprises me that not more people wind up injured.

Both groups of trail users – those with wheels and those without – need to be doing a better job staying out of each other’s way. Just because there are no cars on it doesn’t mean we don’t need to follow the rules of the road on a bike path.

One of my biggest issues is with silent cyclists who insist on using the trail to ride in pace lines. While pace lines (a string of riders, with each traveling 6-8 inches off the others’ wheel) can make for a big problem with a sudden stop, what compounds the safety factor is when the front rider doesn’t say anything when passing other trail users.

A couple of summers ago, I was riding along at a fairly even clip when I was overtaken by a gang like this in matching uniforms. They sailed by – easily going more than 20 mph – and didn’t say a word to me. I didn’t realize they were there until they where actually whizzing past me. Had I so much as veered a few inches to the side, I would have been in their path and under their wheels.

I was incensed that my safety could have been so easily jeopardized. So much so, that after the line passed me, I revved up my pedaling and caught up with the leader, a fellow who looked like Lance Armstrong’s twin. I’m sure he was surprised to see a short, chubby woman, riding alongside him, giving him a serious piece of her mind between gasps for air.

He didn’t apologize, but hopefully he remembers me the next time he thinks he’s riding the Tour de France on a bike path.

The signs are clear on our trails – when you’re a cyclist passing a pedestrian or another bike, make some noise. Ring a bell or say something. I snap my brake levers hard and the resulting ping can be heard yards ahead. Just do something to make yourself heard.

When you are cycling next to each other and come up on a group of pedestrians, give them the courtesy of going single file. Or tighten up your side-by-side formation, to ensure both of you have adequate room. These are such simple, yet courteous things to do.

Pedestrians can do things on trails that are just as unnerving.

We have leash laws on trails, and there is a reason for it. No matter how much you may think your dog deserves its freedom, everyone is at risk when there is a loose dog meandering on a trail. I’ve nearly gone over my handlebars in a sudden stop because someone’s dog saw a rabbit and darted in front of my bike. Ten-foot leashes that don’t retract do not count. It doesn’t work when you’re on one side of the trail and your dog, with the leash strung out across the trail, is on the other. Unless the cyclist in question has a pair of scissors.

Ipods with the volume ratcheted way up is another accident waiting to happen. When we’ve got both ears full of music, we’ve shut down a major sense, and have made ourselves vulnerable not just to bikes, but anybody going faster than us – runners, dogs, even ducks, included.

I will never forget the dancing roller skater, her ears firmly stopped up with her earbuds, spinning in circles as I rode past her, she nearly grabbing my helmet with one of her outspread arms. In spite of my shouts as I approached, I don’t think she realized what was happening until we were nearly dancing a duet. Happily all either of us got out of it was a jump in blood pressure.

The bottom line is that we love our trails. We love them because they afford us the opportunity to get outside, and for a brief moment, to escape the grind of our daily lives. They add exponentially to our quality of life.

But we have to remember that we are sharing this asset with others, who also deserve the right to use this space without worrying for their safety.

We may be leaving our cares behind, but we should not be surrendering our senses to do it.

My heart goes out to the family of Velda, and to the cyclist who was involved in this most unfortunate accident. Let’s all do our part in keeping our paths safe and worry-free. It’s the most fitting tribute we can give to Velda, who enjoyed walking trails so much.