Baltimore’s Kinetic Sculpture Race is an engineering challenge, a feat of endurance, and a display of visual kookiness that together make it a signature event of Charm City. But from my vantage points along the 14-mile route, it was also a demonstration of how human-powered vehicles can share the road with motor-powered vehicles.
When the route took larger streets like Key Highway or Pratt Street, a single lane was blocked off with a minimum of orange cones. With weekend traffic being light, the cars, cabs, and trucks easily shared the road with the bizarre sculptures, most of which were accompanied by costumed cyclists.
Yes, that is a giant elephant on Pratt Street by the Inner Harbor. And yes, the elephant is surrounded by green aliens, and yes, on top there is a guy in a cow costume with a megaphone, yelling “moo!” to passers-by. Oh, and behind the elephant (named Bumpo, incidentally) is the Back Alley Farm vehicle, a small craft with actual crops on-board.
The end of the race course used the same stretch of Pratt Street, this time with the race contestants travelling against traffic. Again, with a minimum of fuss, it just worked.
It reminded me of the Drachten experiment, in which Hans Monderman removed traffic signs throughout a town in the Netherlands in an effort to force road users to pay attention to each other.
The route also included many smaller streets, with only a single lane of traffic. In these neighborhoods the racers calmly mingled with automotive traffic. There were a few cops at some intersections, but mostly everyone just managed on their own. In Washington D.C., it seems every event requires a massive police presence, with cops shutting down streets way in advance of the participants’ arrival.
Following the race with transit
Getting to Baltimore from Washington D.C. on a weekend is problematic. The last time I attended this event I had rented a car. This year I wanted to use transit to get around. My journey began on my bike in D.C., where I rode to Union Station and boarded the Amtrak train. After a 40-minute ride, I was in Baltimore’s Penn Station. I had researched bus routes and walked a block to Maryland Avenue and Falls Street, but there were no visible bus-stop signs, so I continued walking south until I found one. The bus stop didn’t have a schedule on the post, but luckily I had grabbed a printed schedule from the train station. Seeing that the bus ran only every hour, I decided to hoof it to the nearest light rail station, guessing it would be running more frequently and still take me near my destination.
I alighted at the Camden Yards light rail station and had a pleasant walk to the museum for the start of the race. After following the vehicles on foot around Federal Hill, I walked to nearby Inner Harbor and found a water taxi. The race’s next event was the water entry in Canton Waterfront Park, too far to walk. The water taxi didn’t have a direct route to Canton, but I was able to transfer at Fells Point, about halfway there.
After Canton, I walked along the route to Patterson Park, the site of the brutal sand-pit and mud-pit obstacle courses. From there, the vehicles headed back via narrow Lombard Street. I walked alongside the racers until the last entrant passed me. At that moment, I saw a bus headed the same direction and hopped on. I was tempted to yell “Follow that poodle!” to the bus driver. As it turned out, we kept pace with the race, and soon I was back at the Inner Harbor, and walked back to the museum for the awards ceremony.
To return home, I caught a free trip on the Charm City Circulator, then back on Amtrak, and back on my bike for the short ride home. (Minus my bike helmet, which had been stolen.) I wish I could have taken my bike to Baltimore, but Amtrak doesn’t allow bikes on this route. The weekday MARC trains don’t allow them either.
In summary, the Kinetic Sculpture Race brought smiles to everyone who witnessed the creative vehicles. Just as the “slow food movement” helps us re-examine our relationship with food, these human-powered vehicles put our roads in the spotlight. It’s a reminder that roads are our great shared spaces, and must accommodate all users, including human-powered giant pink poodles.
Photos by M.V. Jantzen