ON SUMMER days when his diary is not packed, Johannesburg lawyer Coldron Denichaud cycles to work. "I know if I have a lot of work to do I should drive because I don’t want to cycle in the dark," he says. "There are vagrants and muggings (along the Braamfontein Spruit, which he uses for his 30km round-trip between Sandton and Lonehill) and I don’t want to deal with that, especially after a long day at work. In winter it gets dark earlier and it’s too dangerous to cycle in the dark; no amount of reflective gear protects you from the idiots on the road." Johannesburg is SA’s most car-clogged city, where the average trip takes 30% longer than it should, and peak hour keeps commuters on the road 79% longer than necessary in the morning, and 66% in the evening, according to satellite navigation company TomTom. The only crush category in which Johannesburg lost out to another city was with Cape Town’s weekend traffic — Capetonians spend an average 14% longer than needed in their cars at the weekend, one up on Johannesburg’s 13%. Joburg authorities are trying to change this. The plan is to get rid of the city’s apartheid landscape with transport arteries — the Corridors of Freedom — linked to places of work and education in a way that allows the 4.2-million Joburgers to opt more easily for cycling, buses and walking as ways of getting around. "It’s healthier, more environment-friendly and there will be less congestion," says Lisa Seftel, the city’s director of transport. Work has begun. There is a nearly completed cycle route in Orlando, Soweto, that links nine schools to the Rea Vaya bus rapid transport (BRT) system and to Metrorail’s train network. The authorities are developing a "university corridor" linking the suburb of Melville and the University of Johannesburg to Braamfontein, the University of the Witwatersrand (Wits) and Doornfontein. Construction is starting on a pedestrian and cycle bridge linking Alexandra township to Sandton’s central business district 7km away. There are also plans for cycle routes in the low-income areas of Ivory Park and Orange Farm, and the city is looking at bike donation and sharing schemes. "We definitely can take some credit for the city getting it about cycling," says Mehita Iqani, a Johannesburg Urban Cyclists Association (Juca) committee member. "We are cautiously optimistic, but we want to see it happen before we crack open the champagne." Juca, as mayor Parks Tau has acknowledged publicly, advised the city on cycle routes and how to make it more "bicycle friendly". The committee has mapped out routes, including the university corridor and the Orlando cycle lane, and proposed signage. "The benefit to the city is that we’re cyclists, we know where people are going to and coming from on bicycles. Most commuter cyclists do not necessarily have cars and are working class," says Juca committee member Dave du Preez, a chartered accountant who bike-commutes a 42km round-trip once a week. Juca was established a few years ago by Frenchman Olivier Leveque. "I have commuted by bike since I was I kid in Strasbourg, France, and kept doing so as much as possible when I moved to Joburg," he says. "Strasbourg being very bicycle-orientated. I was acutely aware of all that was missing for Joburg to be bike-friendly. Having an activist fibre, I wanted to push that agenda and decided to join the local commuter cyclists’ association, but couldn’t find one. Critical Mass had been revived a few months before, but there wasn’t any formally structured organisation to interact with policy makers and represent specifically the commuters. So with a couple of fellow commuters met through friends, we started Juca." Critical Mass is a monthly social cycle ride through the old city centre, one of a growing number, including the Freedom Ride established last year to commemorate Nelson Mandela. Cycling is a growing leisure sport, but it is "time poverty" that has pushed many white-collar cyclists onto two wheels. "If you leave Lonehill any time after 6.20 in the morning, it can take you one-and-a-half hours to Sandton," says Denichaud, "It’s 15km. If I leave at the same time on a bike, I can beat a car — 80%-85% of the route is off-road.… It’s an awesome way to start the day, especially in the spring when the flowers are out. But you do have to plan. If I am going to cycle I take work clothes in a day ahead. There are showers downstairs. Once you get into the habit you don’t leave things behind…." But if Johannesburg is notorious for bad driving, it is most notorious for its taxi drivers, ducking and diving through the traffic, and Denichaud is wary of the city’s plans for a corporate-sponsored route linking the Rosebank and Sandton business districts. "That won’t work if the taxis use it like they do the BRT lanes in the city centre. They care even less for cyclists than they do for cars. Unless they build a one-foot wall separating the cycle lane from the rest of the traffic...." "That’s not true," says Njogu Morgan, a Wits student who has been commuter cycling in the city since 2011 and takes his six-year-old daughter to school on his bicycle. "They are always looking out for vehicles and people and in my experience they are very aware and accommodating." Iqani agrees. "I’ve had one scary experience. I fell off my bike when a pedestrian stepped into the road in front of me. "The irony is when I was living in London I didn’t cycle, I walked. It took Joburg to turn me into a commuter cyclist." Iqani, a senior media studies lecturer at Wits, bought her bicycle because it seemed crazy to drive 3km to work every day. "The days I would cycle to work seemed happier. It was 12 minutes, door to door, and Wits has a parking crisis … and, because I am a woman, I worked this out: I would burn 150 calories a day." Du Preez says: "You feel free, and there is something great in getting where you want to go for free. The traffic stops and a driver, ‘Agh!’ But I think, ‘If I go to the left I can slide past’ … and there’s the way you engage with the environment. Driving a car is very stressful." Morgan says: "Once you get over your fear, it’s fine. I’ve had a bike since I was nine, maybe eight, growing up in the village in Kenya. I cycled when I was living in Geneva and Edinburgh, so why not here? "It’s my meditating time. Sometimes I think I have great ideas on my bike."
