The high-tech, two-wheeled, electric human transporter known as the Segway can cruise on the waterfront but not on the hilly sidewalks of San Francisco. In Florida, legislators think they're all right, if kids who ride them wear helmets. Nebraskans like them, except on freeways. And in Washington, D.C., they can go just about anywhere, except the Mall.
And maybe not always on Metro, but no one's sure of that yet.
Across the country, officials are scratching their heads, trying to figure out what to make -- legislatively -- of this new technology, a device that glides ahead with a gentle lean forward, to a top speed of 12.5 mph, and stops on a dime with the plant of a heel. Should it be treated like a bicycle? A motorcycle? A pedestrian?
Particular attention is being paid to the way Washington handles this. Not only is the nation's capital seen as the ideal Segway city, because of its open spaces and sidewalks with ample ramps, but it is also host to the national Segway convention this fall.
"Nationally, a lot of people are looking to see what we're going to do," said Metro Transit Police Chief Polly Hanson, who made clear her distaste for Segways at a recent meeting during which she urged that the transit system impose a rush-hour ban on them.
As silent herds of tourists mounted on the machines glide through popular vacation spots and handfuls of commuters float past walkers, city and state lawmakers are stitching together a patchwork of laws and codes without knowing quite what they're dealing with.
"It really is an emerging technology, and there's no federal code or law that talks about Segways," said Alexa Viets, the National Park Service's transportation manager for the Mall, where Segways have been banned pending further review. "A lot of people are trying to figure it out."
Meanwhile, enthusiasts are anxiously tracking the decisions on their Web sites -- plotting state regulations on color-coded maps to highlight Segway-friendly places -- and lobbying in places where lawmakers are flummoxed by or hostile to Segways.
In the District, about 120 Segway owners chat online and get together for group glides. "We're not really a lobbying group. Really, we got together for fun, as an owner-enthusiast group," said one of the group's founders, William W. Hopper, who recently took part in a U.S. Department of Transportation study of the device, navigating an obstacle course for a team of analysts. "But it looks like we may have to start doing some advocacy work now."
The devices, which sell for about $4,500, didn't seem to faze national park officials a couple of years ago, when the occasional machine garnered nearly as much wonderment as the monuments. There were no complaints, no injuries and no reason to do anything about them.
Tim Kanaley was one of those early riders, a consultant who got rid of his car after finding the three-mile commute from his Logan Circle NW home to his Southwest office cheaper and more fun by Segway.
But when a local tour group approached the Park Service about allowing up to 20 Segways on the Mall for twice-daily tours, park officials hesitated, Viets said.
