But the eclectic group of bicyclists that got mad, and then got organized around House Bill 49 sees the new law as a watershed victory - both for safer riding and grass-roots organization. The law says an operator of a motor vehicle may not "knowingly, intentionally or recklessly operate a motor vehicle within 3 feet of a moving bicycle." If conditions - such as two-way vehicular traffic on a very narrow road do not allow for that 3-foot margin, a driver must keep a "reasonable and safe distance" from the bicycle.
At the ceremonial signing, Huntsman shook hands with Jason Bultman, the bicycle coordinator for Salt Lake County. Bultman is back on his bike now, commuting to work and nearly recovered from a badly broken leg he suffered last year when hit by a car.
Brian Price was there. A medical physicist at LDS Hospital, Price calls himself "car-free," a state he has enjoyed most of his life. He bicycles everywhere. No kidding. Everywhere.
Charles Kulp, who testified at the first committee hearing on the bill, rides his 20-year-old mountain bike from his Murray home to his job in Salt Lake City. "Between the equinoxes, I take winters off," said Kulp on Friday. "I'll be back on the bike on Monday."
I am only grazing the surface of the interest in this bill. It wasn't terribly sexy. It wasn't built around some morals crusade. Unlike the banks vs. credit unions quagmire, or the dogfight over taxing Intermountain Health Care, there was no showdown between special interests.
It did have a symbol though, which always helps. The motivation behind HB 49 was one Josie Johnson, a bright and lovely University of Utah graduate student who died on a crisp fall day last year in Big Cottonwood Canyon. A driver hit her from behind, killing her almost instantly. Suddenly, cyclists were fed up. There were other cases: A cyclist was hit from behind and killed last summer on a state road in Beaver County; a cyclist hugging the road near Hurricane on New Year's Day was severely injured when a speeding motorist sideswiped him while passing.
At a potluck dinner last week where bill sponsor Rep. Roz McGee, D-Salt Lake City, joined about two dozen cyclists to celebrate, the talk centered on how hundreds of e-mails, letters and steady media attention helped keep the light on this issue. It eventually became a true bipartisan effort - with Sen. Curtis Bramble, turning from outspoken foe to friendly sponsor. The Provo Republican at first was determined to kill the bill by holding it hostage in the Senate Rules Committee. Bramble, angry by what he described as "arrogance" among bike riders who regularly skirt the road rules, saw no reason to help out.
But bombarded by e-mails from supporters, and satisfied with the "reasonable and safe distance" compromise language he helped hammer out with proponents, Bramble changed his mind. He also managed to nab $20,000 for bicycle safety programs - which the bill's backers hadn't even requested.
All grass-roots stuff. Sometimes, constituent-driven democracy still works.
No one is kidding himself. Nobody will be out with yardsticks measuring 3 feet and "safe distances." A law won't suddenly make it so. But if HB 49 gets people to exercise a little patience before barrelling past a bike rider, it's a lobbying job well done.
hmullen@sltrib.com
