The Deadly Evolution of America’s Most Dangerous Road for Cyclists

Thirteen-year-old Andrew Alati began biking southbound across Hempstead Turnpike on the afternoon of June 30, 2019. A thunderstorm had just rolled through, but the sun was back out and all eight lanes gleamed in the light like bright teeth. Andrew was headed to Target. It was just on the other side. His friends Aiden and Ethan were already there. For years, the boys’ parents had driven them across the eight-lane thoroughfare that lay like a dividing line down the middle of the residential neighborhoods where the families lived. The street was a dark presence, a real monster. Everyone knew it. Drivers had hit a lot of people on Hempstead Turnpike in the last decade, an average of three a month. But Andrew and his friends were now officially teenagers and the parents had decided amongst themselves that it was time to let them cross on their own. The kids had lobbied for it because they went everywhere on their bikes in the summer and waiting on their parents to take them across was an affront to their liberty. Plus, it was embarrassing. Andrew’s mom, Diana, was the last to cave. She worried. She would always drive him across and drop him at the Speedway gas station on the far side so he could save face and ride the rest of the way to his friends waiting for him behind the high school. But how long could she keep that up? So across Andrew went. He crossed, probably, in the crosswalk because he’d been taught he’d be protected there. But there wasn’t much protection. Only a narrow concrete median about the height of a curb down the middle of the turnpike, and a white-striped crosswalk. No dillydallying in a road like that. On that stretch of Hempstead Turnpike between Berger and Wantagh avenues in Levittown, a hamlet of around 50,000 residents on Long Island, the road is flanked by busy retail centers—a Target, a Mattress Firm, E Smoke & Beer Island, a Chase branch, a Dollar Tree. Cars buzz into and out of those parking lots all day. Once he was across Hempstead Turnpike, Andrew pedaled up the Target parking lot with its capacity for some 620 cars. Finally he reached Aiden and Ethan. Andrew! Inside they played video games. They staged pool-noodle fights. They tried on clothes they had no intention of buying. It was summer. They were kids. Back home Diana was making dinner. [View in Browser]( [Bicycling]( [SHOP]( [EXCLUSIVE]( [SUBSCRIBE]( [The Deadly Evolution of America’s Most Dangerous Road for Cyclists]( [The Deadly Evolution of America’s Most Dangerous Road for Cyclists]( [The Deadly Evolution of America’s Most Dangerous Road for Cyclists]( Thirteen-year-old Andrew Alati began biking southbound across Hempstead Turnpike on the afternoon of June 30, 2019. A thunderstorm had just rolled through, but the sun was back out and all eight lanes gleamed in the light like bright teeth. Andrew was headed to Target. It was just on the other side. His friends Aiden and Ethan were already there. For years, the boys’ parents had driven them across the eight-lane thoroughfare that lay like a dividing line down the middle of the residential neighborhoods where the families lived. The street was a dark presence, a real monster. Everyone knew it. Drivers had hit a lot of people on Hempstead Turnpike in the last decade, an average of three a month. But Andrew and his friends were now officially teenagers and the parents had decided amongst themselves that it was time to let them cross on their own. The kids had lobbied for it because they went everywhere on their bikes in the summer and waiting on their parents to take them across was an affront to their liberty. Plus, it was embarrassing. Andrew’s mom, Diana, was the last to cave. She worried. She would always drive him across and drop him at the Speedway gas station on the far side so he could save face and ride the rest of the way to his friends waiting for him behind the high school. But how long could she keep that up? So across Andrew went. He crossed, probably, in the crosswalk because he’d been taught he’d be protected there. But there wasn’t much protection. Only a narrow concrete median about the height of a curb down the middle of the turnpike, and a white-striped crosswalk. No dillydallying in a road like that. On that stretch of Hempstead Turnpike between Berger and Wantagh avenues in Levittown, a hamlet of around 50,000 residents on Long Island, the road is flanked by busy retail centers—a Target, a Mattress Firm, E Smoke & Beer Island, a Chase branch, a Dollar Tree. Cars buzz into and out of those parking lots all day. Once he was across Hempstead Turnpike, Andrew pedaled up the Target parking lot with its capacity for some 620 cars. Finally he reached Aiden and Ethan. Andrew! Inside they played video games. They staged pool-noodle fights. They tried on clothes they had no intention of buying. It was summer. They were kids. Back home Diana was making dinner. Thirteen-year-old Andrew Alati began biking southbound across Hempstead Turnpike on the afternoon of June 30, 2019. A thunderstorm had just rolled through, but the sun was back out and all eight lanes gleamed in the light like bright teeth. Andrew was headed to Target. It was just on the other side. His friends Aiden and Ethan were already there. For years, the boys’ parents had driven them across the eight-lane thoroughfare that lay like a dividing line down the middle of the residential neighborhoods where the families lived. The street was a dark presence, a real monster. Everyone knew it. Drivers had hit a lot of people on Hempstead Turnpike in the last decade, an average of three a month. But Andrew and his friends were now officially teenagers and the parents had decided amongst themselves that it was time to let them cross on their own. The kids had lobbied for it because they went everywhere on their bikes in the summer and waiting on their parents to take them across was an affront to their liberty. Plus, it was embarrassing. Andrew’s mom, Diana, was the last to cave. She worried. She would always drive him across and drop him at the Speedway gas station on the far side so he could save face and ride the rest of the way to his friends waiting for him behind the high school. But how long could she keep that up? So across Andrew went. He crossed, probably, in the crosswalk because he’d been taught he’d be protected there. But there wasn’t much protection. Only a narrow concrete median about the height of a curb down the middle of the turnpike, and a white-striped crosswalk. No dillydallying in a road like that. On that stretch of Hempstead Turnpike between Berger and Wantagh avenues in Levittown, a hamlet of around 50,000 residents on Long Island, the road is flanked by busy retail centers—a Target, a Mattress Firm, E Smoke & Beer Island, a Chase branch, a Dollar Tree. Cars buzz into and out of those parking lots all day. Once he was across Hempstead Turnpike, Andrew pedaled up the Target parking lot with its capacity for some 620 cars. Finally he reached Aiden and Ethan. Andrew! Inside they played video games. They staged pool-noodle fights. They tried on clothes they had no intention of buying. It was summer. They were kids. Back home Diana was making dinner. [Read More]( [Read More](   [Try This Exercise Ball Workout to Seriously Elevate Your Stability]( [Try This Exercise Ball Workout to Seriously Elevate Your Stability]( Your core has to work in overdrive to keep you steady, while the rest of your body fires up with these seven exercises. [Read More](     [Who Will Win the Mountain Bike Rainbow Jerseys in the Cross-Country Olympic Category at Worlds?]( [Who Will Win the Mountain Bike Rainbow Jerseys in the Cross-Country Olympic Category at Worlds?]( Taking place this Saturday, August 12, we could see some special and historic performances from riders like Tom Pidcock, Mathieu van der Poel, and Pauline Ferrand-Prévot. 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