Bicycle Travel. Commuting and Consideration.

This is what’s up.

Life on a bike is full of adventure.  No matter what’s thrown your way, if you’re flexible and adaptive, you can always make it work.  This time last year we were riding into the mountains loaded down with food and climbing gear, tackling summits and remote climbs in the wildernesses of the Washington Cascades.  We spent our downtime relaxing and riding around a small town.  Now, shifting gears and taking a little break, we’re relaxing with family and riding a little over 20 miles a day commuting to and from work on our bikes. 

Surprises are around every corner, over time the smallest choices lead to drastically different futures.  A chance encounter, a passed up opportunity, each leading to a fork in the road that you might not have taken, or that maybe would have never existed at all.  Most recently, a slip of the hand, a dropped keg (at work), and a cleanly broken foot was the catalyst for a shift in gears that steered us away from our lives in the mountains and toward the east coast for some recuperation and a bit of long overdue family time.  In many ways, Liz’s accident was the final push to embrace this trip that had been building for some time.  We’ve talked about coming out for a few years, but come spring our attention was usually focused on the granite peaks and desert sandstone of the mountain west.  This year, although we were already planning a trip out to celebrate my brother’s wedding, Liz’s accident, a 2 ½ year absence from my family, and the chance to offer Liz an introduction to the place I call home all conspired to make the trip a little longer and take a few months to relax with family, explore my old haunts, and make a full recovery. 

 

So here we are, East Thetford Vermont.  Not the place I originally called home but pretty close by.  Things have a way of not really changing around here, and for some twisted reason a lot of people take comfort in that.  Liz and I have been riding all over, getting a lay of the land, getting our cycling legs under us and enjoying the casual mix of a New England spring and summer.

 

Lots of water around here.

Lots.

 

In hopes of spending the latter part of the summer gainfully funemployed, Liz and I have tracked down some work and have our noses to the grindstone doing our best to earn a little bit of money.  Having bought new bicycles, racks, and panniers, we burned up much of our relatively meager savings, but the concession prize is that our lives are exceedingly simple and cheap, and a little money earned now will afford us more then adequate time to cycle tour, climb, hike, and generally goof off and enjoy life to the fullest a little later.  Also, we’ve been lucky enough to find work that will afford us both most weekends off, so hopefully we’ll be able to rally for a few trips, some overnighters, and long rides during the weekends (warriors).

 

New Bikes.

Assembly required.

 

Liz’s foot is on the heal and she’s begun to jog.  It always amazes me, with a little bit of time and guidance, the regenerative properties the human body is capable of.  She’s chomping at the bit to go climbing and it’s a good thing we’re not living within walking distance of a crag or she’d probably be soloing some moss-covered boulder in her approach shoes.  Whether it’s due to time constraints, work, family, or an accident, it’s funny how a little bit of time spent away from your passions has the effect of giving you a refreshed perspective and renewed love for what you’re missing.  It’s definitely helpful that I’m not surrounded with rocks and the opportunity to climb, but I think it’s nice to be able to take a step back every now and again to focus on cultivating the parts of my mind, body, and life, that get overlooked or undernourished when I’m living at a faster pace.  Sure, I would love to be climbing every day but somehow I’m happy not to be, and it makes me love climbing that much more, knowing it’s there waiting for me to return.  It’s always good to be well-rounded, to have an assortment of interests and activities to fall back on when life complicates things, as it has a way of doing, and currently I’m grateful to have cycling in my life to act as a funnel for some of this unused energy.

 

Still finding rocks to admire.

 

Right now, most of my days are spent painting, an activity that’s become one of my more favorite of summertime employments.  Don’t get me wrong, I would have much preferred finding work at one of the nearby farms, but it just didn’t happen, and sometimes, as people love to point out, you’ve got to sacrifice your ideals to settle with reality. 

 

In my mind, I relate painting to something like one of those Zen Gardens, the brushstrokes creating their own pattern that, if applied mindfully, will blend into their surroundings.  Painting is an activity to focus on and be mindful of, while also allowing me to feel like I’m creating something.  I’d like to think of it as creating, anyway, even though it’s not quite an object you create but more of a concept, a reaction or emotion perhaps.  I’m working to create freshness, to clean a house or somehow make it appear new.  Paint chips, it fades, and cracks, but you can always throw on a fresh coat.  Looking at a home and seeing it enveloped by a new color is a powerful experience, not only do we react in different ways to different colors, but a new color on an old building can make you feel refreshed, reinvigorated, and somehow hopeful.  In the end it doesn’t matter if you’ve got a rotting, infested house home to drug addicts and pedophiles, with the right coat of paint even the police will drive by, thinking, that looks sharp!

 

But in the end, it’s just a job.  I paint.  My boss, who isn’t really a boss at all, is a recovering alcoholic and heroin addict named Niles. He’s missing most of his teeth, has no car or drivers license due to his 3 DUI’s and has told me if he get’s in a fight or charged with assault he’s likely to go back to prison for about 5 years.  But he’s a good person, he’ll help anyone and is genuine and honest, he’s comfortable with himself, takes pride in his work, and does a quality job.  Although I’m not very comfortable around his family or friends, I get along with him just fine, and as far as co-worker acquaintances go, I appreciate his honesty and style a lot more then some of the fake and rushed people that seem to be multiplying everywhere.  Niles has a strong work ethic and attention to detail, but I know if I ever want to take a break I can wander over and listen to him tell me a drawn out story about the time his liver exploded through his hands or what it was like to stand on top of a 40 foot ladder balanced on top of a pickup truck painting church steeples for a living.

 

Liz is also working in a town nearby, but nearby is relative, and each morning we pack our bags and make our commute, bicycling just about 10 ½ miles one way.  Rain or shine, hot or cold, we’ve only been commuting for about three weeks, but we’ve already ridden through all of this weather. 

 

Riding into work is a leisurely affair.  Mostly downhill, we follow gravity along the banks of the Connecticut River to the south.  At an easy pace, the 10 miles goes by in about 45 minutes, riding home, with usually a little more headwind and hill, generally takes about 50 minutes, unless the errant cyclist passes by and I make a drastic challenge to draft him.  This might work for a few minutes, but usually results in cramped legs and hacking up something I can’t remember eating.

 

While we were both hoping for a more flexible schedule and nearby work on one of the local farms, we’re really pretty lucky to have found jobs that allow us this commute.  Having this time each day is incredibly rejuvenating to my mind and body.  The ride in is always relaxing and enjoyable, fog shrouding the hills or perhaps the sun just poking out, the quiet and calm of an early morning is my favorite.  Nothing can ruin it, not rain or cold or even the speeding drivers rushing into their day.  The ride home is equally refreshing, even though as I start out, my legs usually feel heavy and sluggish, cramping slightly as I lean on the pedals to get up that first hill.  But soon enough my strength returns and I can spin faster and enjoy the commute for what it is, a time to unwind and enjoy the moment as I ride through it. 

 

These things are everywhere.

 

Along with being physically uplifting, commuting by bicycle is incredibly empowering and imposes a profound sense of hope for humanity.  Of course I can blow anything out of proportion but the stoke I have for cycling is boundless, and when riding for about 2 hours each day to and from work, I’ve got a lot of time to appreciate just how awesome it is, how much everyone else would love it, and what massive positive change could come, were entire populations to embrace the bicycle as a means of transportation.  Unfortunately, this usually devolves to some sort of sense of frustration with how easy and accessible bicycling is, all of its potential for positive social, physical, and environmental change, how it exists now as a completely viable reality, and yet, how few people are taking advantage.

 

Each day I get passed by hundreds of cars headed towards a similar destination to my own.  Most are driving by themselves, with no passengers or occupants whatsoever.  I wonder about their commute, a lot.  I wonder if it’s relaxing or stressful, how far they’ve come and where exactly they’re going, I wonder why they’re not riding their bike or carpooling with at least one other.  I wonder what they’re doing in there, listening to music or talk radio, if they’ve got heat or AC on.  I wonder if they recognized me, if they notice I’m riding in with them every day and home with them every evening, so far the only ones I know who do are the school bus driver and crosswalk guard who both offer me a friendly wave on the way by. 

 

Not commuting, but out for a weekend trip.

 

I see a lot of bumper stickers and have some that are my favorites.  The numerous Subaru’s, Saab’s and Volvo’s epitomize the social order around me, but it’s the Prius with the bumper stickers proclaiming “No GMO’s” and “Endless (this) War” I enjoy the most.  I appreciate these mostly for their irony, as I’ve noticed the few recent times I’ve filled a friend or family members car with fuel, there’s usually a little sign there reading, “10% of this fuel may be Ethanol”.  Ethanol, from corn.  I know Monsanto puts a lot of their efforts into creating super-strains of genetically modified corn seed to grow vast amounts of it so we can have soda, candy, most of the crap in our foods, and apparently, to get about 10% of where we’re going.  I wonder if the Prius driver notices this sign when they’re at the pump, if they acknowledge it or scoff at it, if they’re considerate of it’s implications and interconnection with their lives and beliefs, or if they just see it and puts their heads down, hoping no one will notice the bumper sticker, the irony that this car too, requires the fuel of oil and corn.  The other sticker seems to have even more obvious ironies, being that it became evident some time ago that the reason for the “war’s” we’re currently waging, invading and occupying countries in the Middle East, are to ensure our country a steady supply of the oil we’re so hopelessly dependent on.  Maybe this understanding is liberally flawed, but it seems like there are a lot of countries outside of the oil-rich Middle East that are struggling with civil war and social unrest that the U.S.A. has no problem having no presence in. 

 

I imagine the Prius driver dressed in a shirt and slacks, the temperature an artificially controlled 70 degrees, as he sips a fair trade coffee and listens to National Public Radio on his way to work.  Guy Risdoll informs him of the unsettled state of affairs in the Middle East, fighting in Syria, and it’s implications with foreign and domestic oil markets. 

 

Loaded for adventure.

 

I hope to make clear that by acknowledging this irony, I’m not necessarily criticizing drivers for their hypocrisy, only finding humor in the sad and scary state of reality.  After all, I myself have often stood trial (usually in front of myself) for my advocacy for bicycle transportation while at the same time occasionally using a friend or family members car, loving coffee, and flying home to see my family, among the many other connections and implications my life shares with the industrialized world.  The trick is to contemplate the vast and inexplicable connections between our lives, each other, and our natural environment in today’s modern world, and to be considerate of these connections as much as we can by making an effort to minimize our impact, rethink the sources and use of energy, and to positively interact with nature every day.  When people resort to claiming hypocrisy for my advocacy of a car free society, I recognize their fear and acknowledge that I’m threatening their beliefs and ideals.  The most challenging part of moving away from a fossil-fuel based transportation system will be our emotional attachment to it, but the bottom line is, we all breathe, sacrificing our air to increase the rate of our mobility isn’t only hypocritical, it’s insane and we have to stop.

 

It’s funny how our cars have become an extension of who we are, driving a truck or BMW somehow manages to say more about who you are then what kind of children you raise or books you read, but most of all, people love turning their vehicles into a type of moving advertisement or political message.  Obama! NObama!  Honor Roll Student.  Each one tells a story.  I once heard New Hampshire has the highest rate of personalized license plates, or as I’ve heard them called, vanity plates.  Vermont seems no different, having only substituted their vanity for an abundance of bumper stickers.  But overall what I notice is a lot of driving alone every morning.  Of all the questions I ask myself about these drives the most nagging, most daunting ones are, with a climate in crisis, how can we ignore our personal impact and to continue to consume in the same way.  I wonder how much these folks spend on fuel annually for their daily commute, if the emissions actually add up, but mostly, I wonder how to get more people to ride a bike. 

 

Loaded for a weekend trip.

 

The car’s stream on, endlessly, but I don’t give up hope, only tact.  For every car and every day I get a little more ruthless in my mind for all of the excuses for the “need” to drive.  It’s funny how resentment, anger and accusations against drivers can build up in my mind, but when faced with an actual person, I rarely have the conviction to be anything but considerate toward their humanity.  I know most all of these drivers are capable of cycling to and from work every day, both physically and technically, meaning they don’t have some little rug rat to pick up or drop off at school, or some ailing grandmother that needs to be taken to her dialysis treatment, but each of them probably have some legitimate excuse for needing to drive here or there, pick up this or do some errands.  When contemplating these theoretical excuses in my mind, I call bullshit, but when faced with their realities in the lives of my families and friends, I somehow understand and have no animosity, only hope that they’ll find the time or opportunity, mostly the passion to get on their bike.  Again and again I can’t help but believe, were the issue forced, or their desire and discipline strong enough, they could all make it work.  Humans, after all, are an incredibly adaptable bunch, and perhaps all it will take is expensive fuel or an environmental edict to get their butts in gear, but I don’t have the patience to wait, I’m driven to help make the change now because each day we continue driving we’re doing irreversible damage to our environment and atmosphere.  What worked for Liz and I was to get rid of our car, to remove the opportunity and temptation.  Like a diet, perhaps what we all need is to remove the automobiles from our lives as a temptation, make it no longer an option, or even as an alternative.  Perhaps then we will adapt and embrace human power and public transportation as the realties they are, and realize that our lives, our Earth, and our society will be better for it.

 

It seems to be common knowledge that it’s not the best way to get someone to change their actions by telling or forcing them to do it, or by telling them that what they’re doing is wrong.  This is supposed to make them feel bad about what they’re doing, and that’s not good, because they’ll instead become defensive and threatened.  Well I say fuck all that.  Decency got thrown out the window with the passage of 400-ppm co2 in the atmosphere.  With our climate continually being threatened, our atmosphere being continually poisoned by our actions, reverse psychology and gentle coercion are no longer viable options.  It’s time to start training ourselves like we do with dogs, children, and Guantanamo detainees, with violence and negativity.  It’s time to get our fat asses out of the car and help save the environment or die trying.  We’re creating an Earth that is not only unhealthy but also toxic, and it’s time to make sacrifices to our own lives in hopes of making things better.  Getting out of your car and onto a bicycle is the smallest, most revolutionary act you can make.  It is at once an act of protest against, and solution to, our society’s harmful overconsumption of fossil fuels.  Our world is in need of drastic social and environmental change, and we’ve got our feet stuck in the mud, or more accurately, on the gas pedal.  There are no longer excuses to be made, but only action to be taken. 

 

Imagine a world where the daily news if filled not with money, death, and destruction, but of people taking to the streets with a show of radical defiance, the simple act of riding a bicycle.  I imagine a paradigm shift in our social and economic order, a shift towards peace with each other and the environment, creating a world with a slower pace but more meaningful connections.  This is not some sort of drug induced hippy vision, but a goal I see as a real and necessary future.  Imagine this shift, feel its power and excitement, get on your bike and help make it happen.  Make your commute by bicycle, get fit, and help change the world.  Bike everywhere, and bike always.

 

Brought everything I could think of, just because I could.

 

I’ve recently made a small change to the carrying I use to get my essentials into work every day.  Up to now I’ve been transporting everything in a set of rear panniers, but with my limited skill painting, by the end of the day, I’ve become a goopy mess making it painfully obvious to everyone around me I have no idea how to properly use a caulking gun.  I’ve reasoned that a sturdy milk crate mounted to the back of my bike would serve my purposes well and I wouldn’t be destroying the nice set of bags I’ve got by throwing my cloths into them every afternoon before riding home.  Waterproofing materials can be found in the form of plastic bags, and a cardboard liner will keep miscellaneous shit from falling out.  So I’ve installed the crate and I realized another advantage, like a bumper the crate has created prime real estate for politically charged phrases and “motivational” messages.  I haven’t had the opportunity to try it out yet but I’m looking forward to brainstorming and making something to try out next week.  I’m thinking of starting out with something smart and simple, maybe a little provocative, something like, Fuck Your Prius.  I don’t know, we’ll see. 

 

Ready for work.

 

I know I’m lucky to be able to be car-free and have cycling be such a part of my life, and so much more then hating on cars, I love bicycling, and I know that given the chance, so many of the folks I see mindlessly driving every day would love it to, and that’s why I’m passionate about getting them out there.  Maybe telling them to Fuck Their Car isn’t the best way to go about it, but I’m not about to resort to violence or slashing tires, so it seems like the best option for now.  So besides ranting here and pleading for you’re help I’ll try this for a while and hope I don’t get run off the road or come back to find my bike stolen or fucked with.  And as for you dear reader, I’ll try not to harass you too much on the off chance that I’ll have a real request or something actually interesting to say in the future, after all, if you’ve made it this far I owe you more thanks then that.  Thanks for reading.

 

It’s summer everywhere in North America, so if you’re reading this get out and ride your bike. 

 

Tim