When various news sites reported the story online, the comments were predictably absurd. There were all sorts of attacks on bikes that reflected more on anti-bike sentiment than on the incident in question. “The path is for everyone not a bunch of spandex wearing Armstrong wannabes,” wrote one commenter. A member of the Fairfax Underground forum posted a story about the incident under this headline: “Bicyclist Mows Down Old Lady and Kills Her.” “Kill all cyclists,” replied a second member, “problem solved.”

A little more attention to the specifics, and the authors of these remarks would have known how off-base they were. The bike rider in this incident was a man in his early 60s. He was riding an $88 department store bike, a NEXT Power Climber. I doubt that he was training for a race. He claims he gave both a ring of his bell and an audible, “on your left,” to the elderly pedestrian. But apparently the alert caused her to step in front of him rather than out of his way. The collision knocked her backward onto the pavement, according to the police report, where she struck her head.

Clearly, there are things both people could have done to avoid the accident. But it is largely the responsibility of bicyclists to avoid collisions like this. Bikes yield to pedestrians — even on bike paths. Just as downhill skiers are expected to anticipate and react to other skiers below them on the slope, it is the responsibility of the cyclist to avoid collisions and expect the unexpected when overtaking other trail users.

It is important to keep in mind that “bike paths” are generally not solely for bikes. They are shared spaces that usually accommodate an assortment of people on foot; runners, hikers, dog walkers, nannies pushing strollers, kids walking home from school. Then there are the rollerbladers, roller skaters, skateboarders, people with their dogs on those nearly invisible extendable leashes, power-walking moms with wild toddlers that should be on leashes, and a long list of other potentially menacing variables.

Bicyclists should act accordingly. Here are some things to consider:‪‬

• Be considerate of other trail users! Give the person you’re passing a warning either by bell or mouth — a gentle “on your left” usually does the trick. Give them a chance to react, then make a good, clean pass. Pay extra attention to small children and dogs.‬

• Travel at a reasonable pace. This is not the place to try to set the land speed record. Need a workout? Keep your chain out of the “big ring” and work on high cadence at lower speeds.

• Slow down in areas that are commonly occupied by slower-moving trail users. Knowing your trail allows you to know what to expect.

• Obey the traffic laws. Some multi-use trails have speed limits. Most intersect with roads. Be aware of car traffic when you encounter it.

What do these things tell us about the tragic incident outside of Washington? From the reports I read, this rider did everything he should have done. The police apparently agree; he is not being charged with any crime.

So while we are trying to educate cyclists on how to behave more safely on the bike path, why not give a few tips to other trail users?

• Be aware of other trail users by simply looking and listening. An occasional glance forward and an occasional glance backwards should tip you off that there is a cyclist approaching.

• Walk on the right-hand side of the trail. If walking in a group, don’t block the whole trail. Pinch in and walk single file when faster trail users approach. Glance back for approaching trail users before U-turning on the trail.‬

• Understand that the Bike Path is basically a roadway for bicycles and other trail users.

Which brings me back to all the hate that was unleashed on cyclists after the accident outside of Washington, D.C.

It intrigues me that there are so many people who are anti-cyclist. Do they feel this strongly about cars? Cars are bigger, heavier, and move faster. There are more cars than bike on the roads, and they kill more pedestrians. According to the National Highway Transportation Safety Administration [PDF], 4,280 pedestrians were killed in crashes with motor vehicles in 2010. Another 70,000 were injured. Statistics about pedestrians killed or injured in crashes with bikes are hard to find.

What so many people fail to understand is that most cyclists are hyper alert and super cautious. A collision on a bike, whether with a car or a pedestrian, puts the cyclist at risk.

And yet, when we see a tragedy like this, instead of viewing people on bikes as individuals, the haters have clumped a very complex subculture of many groups and subgroups into one simple identity — those evil “spandex wearing Armstrong wannabes.” They seem to love to take their show-and-tell experience of being buzzed by a cyclist as the general behavior of all cyclists.

In the end, it is a matter of common sense and common courtesy.

Is this accident a wake-up call for bicyclists to be more careful and more considerate? Yes, but this notion of being more considerate of others should apply across the board. It’s certainly something I would love to see from the car drivers as they approach pedestrians and cyclists on the road.

It was the classic test of a longstanding question: Who is the supreme cyclist, bike messenger or road racer?

The field had winnowed to just two riders in the final race of the Diamond Derby, a daylong bicycling event in Northern Virginia just across the Potomac from Washington, D.C. Road racer Michael Esmonde, all Lycra-clad and riding a high-end carbon fiber speed machine, faced down bike messenger Sean O’Donnell, who sported just a cotton T-shirt and cutoff jeans while pedaling a well-worn fixed-gear bike.

Almost as interesting as the matchup between the two bicycling worlds was the event’s location: a parking garage. The Diamond Derby was more than just a bike race. It was part group ride (costumes encouraged), part bike polo tournament — and part gonzo racing spectacle, where the assembled crowd could sip adult beverages and watch the contests from the comfort of a temporary lounge complete with sofas, tables, and bar stools, and featuring the works of a dozens of local artists.

It was an event designed to create both competition and camaraderie — the kind of colorful, underground art/sport experience that has become a signature of this country’s ever evolving urban cycling culture. It was a day for all: racers and non-racers, cyclists young and old, and activities for the competitive riders and the “just for fun” types as well.

Photo by M. V. Jantzen.

The event was a partnership between the Crystal City Business Improvement District, which promotes Arlington’s downtown area, and local businesspeople, bicyclists, and promoters. (Other events in the area include the summer Seersucker Social and the fall Tweed Ride, which features riders wearing attire more appropriate for ballroom dancing than a bicycle ride.) A percentage of the proceeds from the Diamond Derby would help pay the medical bills for Chris Soda, a Washington, D.C., bike messenger who had suffered serious head trauma in a training accident.

The races themselves, which wound through a maze of concrete pillars, hay bales, and other obstacles, combined elements of cyclocross and bike messenger races. Originally intended as off-season winter training for road racers, cyclocross has become the fastest growing segment of bike racing. Cyclocross races are often held in urban parks, and require riders to navigate obstacles such as mud pits, cobblestone paths, staircases, and tight S-turns on grass or packed earth. A series of short, fast loops—and the potential for some spectacular wipeouts—make it a great spectator sport.

Bicycle messengers have their own contests called Alley Cat races. These races often mimic the day job of the bicycle courier by giving racers a “manifest” where they have to ride their bikes to various check points around the city. Alley Cat races tend to be unsanctioned events, held on city streets where the racers have to factor in the risks and dangers of traffic. The pinnacle of all Alley Cat races is the World Messenger Championship, a wild, three-day event to be held in Chicago this summer.

Photo by M. V. Jantzen.

The Diamond Derby was a gonzo mash-up of these two styles set in a landscape more reminiscent of roller derby than a bike race. The course was a short, winding loop punctuated with hay bales and stacks of old mountain bike tires to force racers to either dismount and carry their bikes, or bunny hop over the barriers. There was an “open” category race, a kids’ race, a four-person relay, a 30-minute-plus-one-lap race — and the grand finale, known as the Four X Comp, that pitted Michael Esmonde, the road racer, against Sean O’Donnell, the bike messenger.

So who would come out on top?

It was dizzying to see the lead racers attack the course. Esmonde was hammering the 1.5-kilometer (0.9-mile) loop with an amazing mix of muscle and finesse. O’Donnell was chasing aggressively just a few yards behind, despite working with just one gear and no free-wheel. This game of chase had Esmonde acting as the carrot for the full duration of the race.

In the end, Esmonde held his lead, blazing across the finish line first, with O’Donnell not far behind. On this day it was road racer over bicycle messenger. It was racing at its highest level, with each representative of opposing subculture gaining the respect of the other.

But while the showdown in the elite event was exhilarating, it was the the open race that really captured the spirit of the day. This race added yet another twist to the course by throwing in a messenger-esque scavenger hunt aspect, where racers could score points by tossing U-locks through hoops, delivering packages to various locations along the course, and picking up and replacing rolls of tape looped over the tops of orange safety cones. It was a great mix of heavy breathing and smiles.

Photo by M. V. Jantzen.

At the sound of the gun in the open race, a man in his team road-racing kit took off fast and opened a gap on the field, while an assortment of riders on a wide variety of bikes chased along. Trailing far behind was a father-daughter team on an old yellow Schwinn tandem, wearing matching red wool coats. As the road racer lapped the field, this duo meandered through the course at a leisurely pace, pausing at nearly every checkpoint, never pedaling fast enough to break a sweat. When the race was over and the points where tallied, the slow-moving tandem, with all its extra points, finished first — in the classic “Tortoise and the Hare” style.

The Diamond Derby was not only a day of adrenaline-fueled racing. It was a glorious day for all, young and old, newcomers and old-timers — a wide variety of people who share a common interest in bikes, and an appreciation for the community-building power of pedal-powered recreation.

From behind a windshield, my Dutch-style “bakfiet” cargo bike must look like an oddity. My multitalented artist friend Adam Zopf and I built these bikes for ourselves a few winters back. We cut two bikes in half and welded them back together with a long metal bar stretching out the wheelbase. A long steering bar extends from the handlebars all the way to the front fork, allowing the rider to turn the front wheel from the back of the bike. My bakfiet is outfitted with an old wheelbarrow tray acquired through Freecycle, handy for carrying anything too big for a backpack. Adam’s has a “flat bead” for lugging his work gear around that can be mounted with wicker chairs for his wife Regina and their young son Theo. It’s Dutch cycling chic with a little Fat Albert and the Gang twist.

To an outsider, these unusual-looking bikes probably seem like the product of some weird cycling subculture, but the cargo bike is no “tall bike.” This is the true “sport utility vehicle”; its function is its fashion. As practical as a normal bicycle can be for transportation, there are times when a backpack or a rear cargo rack is just not enough to do the job. But with a cargo bike, you can carry a small person (or two), a dog, a full load of groceries — or a keg instead of a six-pack. It really increases the practicality of the bicycle in everyday life. I am certain that we will see more and more people using different styles of cargo bikes in years to come.

Here in Washington, D.C., where I live, it is not uncommon to see a cluster of Xtra-cycles — bikes modified with extended back ends — locked up in front of the public pool or loaded down with organic produce at farmers markets. On weekends, the bike paths that feed out of the city often carry kids in pull-behind trailers and on trail-a-bikes, which attach to an adult cyclist’s seat post, turning the bike into a three-wheeled tandem. In the evenings, you might spot a smiling couple with a woman riding side-saddle on the back of an Xtra-cycle as they shirk the hassle of finding parking and just roll up to their destination and lock their bike.

Valentine's Day treats, delivered by bike.

A few Washingtonians even make a living on their cargo bikes, including a handful of bicycle messengers who specialize in delivering packages larger than envelopes. One messenger, Rodney Smith, pulls a metal-framed trailer behind his retrofitted mountain bike; Michael Pearce, a.k.a. Cargo Mike, pulls a low-priced flatbed trailer behind his Surly fixed-gear; while Scrooge makes deliveries on a production bakfiet. There are also the three-wheeled pedi-cabs swarming around downtown giving tourists a more leisurely open-air option than riding in a stuffy old taxicab.

Not everyone has a friend with the twisted artistic genius to weld a bakfiet out of a few old beater bikes and some scrap metal. But there are other options. Factory-made bikes once only available through European imports are now becoming commonplace in American bike shops. Companies like Civia Cycles out of Bloomington, Minn., are offering fantastic cargo bike options like their cycle truck, the Halsted. Larger companies like Trek and Kona are making long bike options, eliminating the need for the Xtra-cycle add-on. Then there are a number of cargo bike options from custom frame builders out of Portland, Ore.

It’s enough to make you believe San Francisco-based filmmaker and designer Liz Canning when she calls the rise of cargo bikes “a cultural revolution in progress.” Canning, who co-produced the award-winning documentary American Blackout, about the stealing of elections, and created animation pieces for Girls Rock, a film about young girls at a rock-n-roll camp, is currently collecting film footage of cargo bike culture from people all over the U.S. for a crowdsourced documentary titled (R)Evolutions Per Minute: Cargo Bikes in the U.S. Here’s the trailer, with details about how you can participate:

Over the years, I have used a variety of cargo bikes. When my boys were toddlers I towed them around town in a classic yellow Burley trailer. As they grew, my older son would ride his own bike and my younger son would ride on a trail-a-bike. When my younger son was comfortable riding his own bike, the Burley or Bob trailer would carry soccer balls, Frisbees, Nerf Guns, unicycles — whatever we needed. Then came the bakfiet, which quickly eliminated my need to use any of my pull-behind options.

The author on his homemade “bakfiet.”

A few times a year I even get to play bike messenger when Cargo Mike goes on vacation or just needs an extra hand. His primary client, Edible Arrangements, sells baskets of fruit cut to look like bouquets of flowers, and for the past couple of years, around Valentine’s Day, I’ve spent several days hustling around downtown D.C. with my wheelbarrow tray loaded down with ornate fruit baskets of chocolate-dipped strawberries and pineapples cut into the shape of flowers.

My big rig is useful, but it is also a joy to ride. It mixes performance with performance art. Without fail, at each stop, someone stops me to ask questions about this obviously homemade machine. Camera phones are pulled out and photos are taken. Contractors ask design questions. I don’t mind the attention. That’s part of the reason I ride this bike: to spread the good word of the cargo bike and try to help others to see how a bike similar to mine could fit into their lives.

Mark Twain once wrote, “Get a bicycle. You will not regret it. If you live.”

This is true. Riding a bike is potentially dangerous, particularly in this era of turbo powered autos and text messaging. But if you don’t tangle with the cars, biking is an enriching activity that is not only fun but also good for your health, and in my years as an urban cyclist, I have come to understand the dangers, and avoid them.

Still, I can get anxious about these dangers when riding with my kids. Even as an “alterna-dad,” I still have some qualities of a modern helicopter parent. My wife and I micromanage every second for our sons Dean and Grant, who are 10 and 7 years old, from coaching them on each spoonful of cereal in the morning to an overly involved tuck-in routine at bedtime.

Our family lives in a historic neighborhood of 100-year-old row houses in Washington, D.C., less than two miles from the White House and within earshot of the tiger’s roar at the National Zoo. Quaint as our neighborhood is, our kids do not cross the street without us holding their hands. They do not ride the bus, take the subway, or even walk to the corner store without us.

So it is no shock that our kids do not ride their bikes around the city without us by their side. As we ride I issue instructions with each push of the pedals and each turn of the handlebars. It is like I am the puppet master, controlling my bicycle riding marionettes. I instruct my boys to avoid each obstacle and every potentially dangerous encounter as we roll. But I want to teach my kids how to navigate the urban labyrinth without a parent hovering over them.

Here are some rules I’ve set in an effort to keep my boys safe:

1. No helmet, no bike. This is a no brainer. Ever since the days of training wheels there has been this simple rule. My boys also have blinking head- and taillights on their bikes as well as headlamps strapped to their helmets.

2. Tell dad if your bike is not working. A problem on a bicycle rarely fixes itself, and something as simple as an underinflated tire or a set of worn-out brake pads can cause a crash or collision. I check their tires for air and lube their chains regularly, and periodically, I’ll put their bikes in the stand and give them a glance.

3. Fuel up! Eat and drink before each ride, and if it is going to be a long one, bring some sustenance along. A car will not work without fuel, and neither will a person — and beyond that, a hungry, moody child can be tough to motivate (and manage) on a bike.

4. Look and listen. On straight-aways, I instruct my boys to look far ahead and to take frequent glances back. When going around a curve or turning down a street, anticipate the presence of a car, truck, or pedestrian by listening. Large vehicles like garbage trucks may beep as they back up. Listen for this stuff — and avoid the large trucks all together.

5. See that you are seen. When stopped at an intersection, waiting for safe passage to cross, make eye contact with the car drivers to be sure that they see you. Don’t just go when the light is green or the signal says walk, as there may be a car taking a right turn on red or ignoring the signal altogether. And when riding, ride close enough to the center of the lane that you’re visible to approaching cars — and well out of the “door zone.”

6. Give respect and get respect. On the street, share the road. Just as a cyclist deserves his turn at a red light or stop sign, so does a car driver. On the sidewalk, be courteous of pedestrians. Try not to spook people. Make safe passes granting other people a little space. Always giving a polite audible warning, such as “on your left” or “excuse me, can I get by,” as you make the pass.

It’s a lot to remember, but with reminders and experience, kids get it. Lead by example and reinforce appropriate cycling behavior. I’ve been riding on the city streets with my boys since they were really young, so I don’t have to bark an order every step of the way as I did on our first rides. There are even points on our rides home from school where I let them ride on their own.

At one point in the ride, the boys like to peel off down a bike path that splits between a dog park and a soccer field, while I ride straight on the red brick sidewalk, then migrate back onto the street. With one last instruction to “be smart and be safe,” we part ways, then race to a street corner just past the park. We regroup and roll onto the street where we ride together as a pack again.

At other points, 7-year-old Grant will shout, “Alley way!” The boys split off down a back alley while I stick to the street, allowing them to ride untethered, making decisions on their own cycling, safely outside of my shadow. It’s all practice for the days when they’ll ride with friends without adult chaperone.

The dangers are out there. I imagine that I will always worry about them. But I can prepare them for what’s out there — and to help them be safe.

So … get on your bike with your kids. You will not regret it. As long as you teach them well, and give them the tools they need to navigate the urban jungle.

I am a mountain biker and mountain bike racing is a big part of my love for cycling. There’s only one problem: I live in the city. To get to the hills, I have to put my bike on the car and drive an hour out of town. Luckily for me, there are many aspects of urban riding that fulfill a similar sensory experience to the high I find on the trail.

I’m no World Cup racer, but hammering down the mountain biking trails, I still have moments when I find myself in a state of athletic euphoria that riders call “the zone.” When you’re in the zone, your bike and body operate as a single unit. Your thoughts and actions are intertwined. Your mind measures the variables as they approach at warp speed and you respond without thinking, arcing tight twists and turns through gaps just inches wider than your handlebars.

Riding in the zone is an amazing, Zen-like experience. It is the cyclist’s version of a “runner’s high.” This immense state of focus not only happens in the woods. The zone can be achieved when riding in the city, too.

In a mountain bike race, the competition adds to the adrenalin. The effort required to chase the racers in front of you or escape the racers behind you can fuel the experience. In town, encounters with car drivers can act in very much the same way.

In the woods, it is about flowing over logs in the trail, cruising through seemingly lineless rock gardens, and dipping between tight trees. On the city streets, it’s about weaving past the guy on his cell phone who steps out from between parked cars, adapting to an aggressive lane change by a soccer mom in a minivan, or avoiding a car door swinging open into your lane. In so many ways, urban riding is just a series of close calls.

Yesterday, I was taking a standard route across town. I was moving at a pretty good clip, when a driver behind me laid on the horn. Instead of riding submissively and pulling over so the car could pass, I held my ground. Sure enough, the car came screaming past obnoxiously fast and obnoxiously close, then cut right, into my lane, stopping at a traffic light and blocking my passage forward.

The racing instincts kicked in. Rather than stopping, I made the calculation that it was safe and cut left, riding the double yellow line past the stopped cars. The timing was perfect. Just as I hit the intersection, the light turned green. I had the momentum to make a jump past the cars, fading back to the right side of the right lane and leaving the obnoxious driver trapped in traffic many car-lengths behind.

Just as my grade school basketball coach told me, “Sometimes the best defense is a strong offense.”

If you’re in the zone, all this happens effortlessly. But the zone is not something that can be found by changing your diet or crunching the numbers from your power meter. It is not an experience that a coach can deliver you to. The zone is an infrequent experience that occurs when the stars are aligned, a moment served up to you as a treat for all the hard work that has been done to achieve this level of fitness and a reward for being able to focus your entire attention on the moment.

And sometimes, in the streets as on the mountain bike trails, discretion is the better part of valor. While it is vital for cyclists to assert their right to the road, in a game of chicken between a bike and a car, the car almost always wins.

Yesterday, there was another honk from a car approaching fast from behind. I glanced back to see if it was intended for me, and saw a massive black SUV approaching fast. Once again, the “Spidey senses” kicked in. I felt that if I did not clear the way, this set of oversized wheels was going to roll right over me. I glided to the side, just in time, as a car built to carry seven but driven by one passed with a swoosh that felt like a freight train.

Urban cycling is about being smart, not being stubborn. In this situation, it was best to stay out of trouble’s way, and grant this American Psycho clear passage to the next bumper 20 yards ahead.

Yes, some days on the street, you find yourself beaten back. But spend enough time out there, and you’ll have days when your bike and body are operating without issue. The chain is not skipping and your stomach is not giving you cramps. You throw your leg over the bike and for some reason find yourself in a personal time trial. Racing a city bus to the hole shot, you feel like Superman racing the train.

After the ride, you’ll find yourself with a wide smile and a sparkle in your eye. Without even knowing it, you have found the zone.