Postscript

I drove my car on Friday for the first time in 110 days. Zeb and I ran errands that day. It was an odd experince, driving again, especially for the first few minutes. In sitting behind the wheel, traveling down the road, I felt very disconnected. The best way I can describe it is that it was similar to when I have a bad cold; I know what is happening around me, but it doesn't quite seem real. I couldn't feel the bite of the cold; I couldn't feel the air moving at all. The speed of the car had little to do with me, a mere foot on a pedal, not a full-body effort. I barely noticed hills or curves. I--my body, at least--was disconnected from the act of traveling.

After a few miles, the strangness of this disconnect began to wear off. I appreciated the ease and comfort with which Zeb and I were able to travel. We were able to accomplish more errands, and buy more stuff, then I could have on a bike. In fact, I found myself buying things with an abandon that I never felt on the bike. When I got home, I had to explain to Tim that I had spent more money than I intended to. In part this was because we needed a fair amount with the holidays and all, but also in part because with the car, I did not have to carefully think about each purchase the way I do when I am hauling it all home by bike. I realized that the realities of bike transportation had been acting as a first filter for responsible spending.

Overall, I am ambivalent about begining to use the car again. I appreciate being out of the cold and the additional measure of safety on slick roads. I enjoy being able to go to places that I would not take the time to ride to on a bike. But, I don't care for the feeling of disconnection from the world and from my motion. It begins to reduce travel to a video game. I also feel wrong about participating in what automobiles are. I feel guilty about buying gasoline and about adding carbon dioxide to the atmosphere. I am also ambivalent about the faster pace of life that an automobile brings.

As Zeb and I returned to Poultney on rte 22A from Granville, we passed a sign that said something like, "Right to Farm Life Law." I thought about that as I drove. Somehow, in our culture, we have started moving so fast that we have lost or forgotten our roots and what sustains us today. We get in such a hurry in our cars that we get angry if a farmer is driving his tractor down the road, forcing us to slow down for a few minutes. This issue is prevelant enough that a law had to be passed to protect farmers. Somehow, in our fossil fuel-powered haste, we have forgotten that farmers provide us with food and that without food, we would die. We have forgotten that we rely on trees and plants and bees and microorganisms. We have forgotten that we need functioning ecosystems more than we need a bigger house or better cell phone coverage. In the end, at the most fundemental level, we need our planet to be healthy more than anything else. We need to slow down enough to remember our connections to the air, the rain, the soil, and to this specific spot on earth wher we live. I think that forgoing my car and riding my bike for the past three months has helped me to do that.

The End of the Semester

Yesterday was the last day of finals and technically the last day of the semester. I needed to come into campus today to tie up a few loose ends. For the first time in over one hundred days, I considered driving my car. Given my agenda for the day, I opted to ride my bike again. As I headed out the door, Tim warned me of the cold; it was 10 degrees at our house.

The cold wasn't too bad on the walk out to the road; a little more bite on exposed skin was all. When I got out to the road, I glanced around for the car, just in case I wanted to change my mind. But my car was gone! I looked around on the off chance that Tim moved it, but I didn't see it. All I can think is that perhaps our neighbor borrowed it if her car wouldn't start this morning.

I hopped on my bike and started into town. Heeding Tim's warning, I checked my brakes to be sure they weren't frozen before heading down hill. The brakes worked fine, but my gears were frozen. I could change my front gear rings, but the back ones wouldn't budge. I hopped off on a flat spot and manually moved the chain to where I wanted it. Despite my cold fingers, legs, and face, I was able to appreciate the simplicity of the bicycle; Even though I don't know too much about bike repair, I was able to fix my shifting problem in short order. I don't have that same self-reliance and assurance with a car.

The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful. The roads were clear and the sun was out. I was reasonably well prepared for the cold; only my legs got very cold. The cold seemed to bite through the thin fabric of my pants like I had nothing on, reminding me that I should start wearing long underwear. When I got to campus, I discovered that my lock was frozen shut. Ah, well, the realities of winter riding.

So today is it. The final day of our experiment in car-free living. What have I learned from this? That the bicycle is a viable form of transportation, even here in rural Vermont. That weather doesn't prove to be too much of a barrier for most of the year, if you prepare for it. That if you only use a bike for transportation, your "home range" shrinks, but you get to know where you live, and you have a greater sense of place and distance.

What will I do with those lessons? Will Tim and I look back at this as the point when we changed to primarily human-powered transportation? Or will it be just another college project that gets forgotten? I'm not very good at trying to predict the future, but I think that this project will only be the beginning of our discussions and debate about finding sustainable transportation alternatives. We plan to drive the car over the holidays to visit family. After months of limited transportation range, it will be nice to go somewhere. When next semester begins though, I suspect that we will be on bikes more often than in the car. And come next summer, I would guess that once again our car will be found sitting in the parking lot, day after day after day.

With the end of the semester, and the end of our experiment, I guess this is also the end of this blog. Tim and I have talked about possibly continuing to post our on-going thoughts on transportation and sustainability. If you would be interested in continuing to read this blog from time to time, please post a comment telling us that. Otherwise, this will be my last posting. I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read my thoughts and for your support in this endeavour. Happy Holidays to you all!

Staying Home....

It stormed on Wednesday. We awoke to new snow on the ground and more coming down. Not huge amounts, maybe a couple inches, but with the wind howling through the trees, it felt like a real blizzard.

It was fortuitous timing though; my only class on Wednesdays is Botany lab which only meets sometimes. This week, my calendar was open (excepting the huge pile of homework to complete). So, given the conditions of the roads, I decided to do my homework at home. I spent a couple hours working on projects, then Zeb and I went sledding. Whoo-hoo!

Unfortunately, the poor road conditions meant that we missed out on the (free!) Holiday dinner that the college puts on for students each year. Although both Tim and I were saddened to miss out on all the good food, we decided that it probably wasn't worth risking our health and well-being to get there.

By the next morning, the paved roads were cleared. The mile of Endless Brook Rd was a little sketchy, but not too bad. Tim and Zeb met me for lunch that day. I mentioned to Tim that I had fish-tailed down Endless Brook Rd. "Didn't you let some air out of your tires? I did and had no problems." Tim asked me. "Nope." I said. "But I sure went fast on the pavement!" Tim looked at me askance, then laughed. "We didn't have any problems on the slushy ice, but it was slow on the pavement."

So that is the trade off: we can let air out of our tires, increasing traction on ice and snow, but also increasing friction on cleared roads, or we can leave our tires as is, slipping around on snow and ice, but riding easily on cleared roads. I guess we could get the best of both worlds by letting air out of our tires for the dirt roads, then pumping the tires back up for the cleared roads. Neither of us has taken the extra time to do that, though.

With the snow it's getting colder as well. This morning, with a cold wind blowing from the west, I began to miss my balaclava, which Zeb has claimed for his own. The section of Lake St. Catherine that I pass on the ride into town is starting to freeze over. It seems like in just a week we've left autumn and entered winter.

SNOW!!!

We had our first real snow of the winter over the weekend. Roads weren't too bad riding into campus on Monday. Tim and Zeb met me in town. By the time we left Monday evening, it was dark and snowing lightly.

I must say, there is a big psychological difference between riding when there is snow on the ground and riding when it is actively snowing. As we made our way down Main Street, the chimes at the college began to play Christmas carols. I can tell you, there is nothing that makes me feel more cold and lonely than hearing Christmas carols while riding at night through the falling snow with five miles to go before reaching home.

Tim and I took it slow on the way home. The roads weren't bad, per se, but there was layer of snow and slush on them, deeper on the shoulders. As we left town, a white car that was passing us slowed down. The window rolled down and a disembodied voice said, "You people are crazy." Then up went the window and off went the car.

Are we crazy? Maybe. A van passed us a little while later as we were climbing a hill. The van slowed down and the driver asked Tim if we were ok. Tim said we were fine and waved them on.

We did make it home, uneventfully. But I do wonder a bit about mixing snow and darkness. I think being on a bike is safe enough. In those conditions I generally go slow enough that a fall would be bruising, but not serious. And if things got that bad, I could always get off and walk. What worries me is the cars that are on the road. Snow, darkness, and a driver who is in a bit too much of a hurry could be fatal.

Tim and I talked about it on the ride home and later that evening. We've decided to open more options: either of us can and should stay home if the conditions are too sketchy; Tim can take the car if getting somewhere seems extremely important; and we can creatively plan trips around the weather. In the next few days Tim is going to bring our sleeping bags and some spare diapers into town. We'll stash them somewhere on campus. Then, if we get caught in town with bad road conditions, we can simply stay there. It might be fun: we can swim at the pool, see the events, eat at the cafeteria, like a mini-vacation.

We've only got eight days left in the experiment. We've been quite lucky with the mild autumn this year. We could have had this snow in the end of October, so I guess I can't complain.

The Early History of Bicycles

A few weeks ago, while doing research for a paper I was writing, I stumbled upon a wonderful article about the early history of bicycles in the U.S. Written by Sidney Aronson, "The Sociology of the Bicycle" was published in the Social Forces Journal in 1952. It's a great article, only seven pages long, but full of informational gems. If you are interested in that sort of thing, and you can find a copy, I highly recommend the read. (I found it through JSTOR.) Here are just a few of the more interesting highlights.

The bicycle as we know it today--called the "safety bicycle"--arrived in the United States in 1885. It's arrival and subsequent popularity changed several aspects of life here. This version of the bicycle could be manufactured in factories using assembly line techniques. This dropped the cost, making bicycles affordable for working families; by 1900, a new bicycle cost as little as $18. Before bicycles, transportation options for most people were limited to the occasional train ride. Horses were available, but only to the wealth who could afford their maintenance and upkeep.

With the bicycle, city workers were able to get out to the country. Weekend round trips could total as much as fifty miles as families visited neighboring towns. The bicycle "gave rise in the [eighteen]nineties to that new type of mobility which became so characteristic of the twentieth century” (Aronson, p. 311). The bicycle provided the beginnings for our current culture, based on the independent transportation of the individual.

The bicycle also changed things for women, giving them more independence and freedom. Women's clothing changed to increase safety when riding bikes. Skirts were shortened, revealing ankles (gasp!). It became acceptable for a woman to wear bloomers. Relationships between the sexes also changed. Courting couples--often on a bicycle built for two--no longer had to be chaperoned; the matrons who would have played that role did not care to learn to ride themselves. My favorite is a quote from Harper's proclaiming that in the question of right-of-way at intersections, "a woman should always have the right of way”(Aronson, p. 308).

Perhaps most interesting is one of the central premises of Aronson's article: that the bicycle "paved the way" for the automobile. The bicycle preceded the automobile by a mere 10 or 15 years. During that time however, bicyclists lobbied for improving and expanding the road system and added guideposts to direct cyclists and light posts to aid in night riding. The surging popularity of bicycles during the decade between 1890 and 1900 created a need for both traffic laws and a system to enforce these laws. The booming industry of bicycle factories and repair stations were easily converted to servicing the automobile. Bicycles were instrumental in changing the way people thought about travel. Aronson postulates that without these factors in place, the automobile would not have succeeded.

In the years following 1900, the automobile gained popularity as quickly as the bicycle lost favor. It was a short golden decade for the bicycle, but an influential one. I wonder how things might be different now had the bicycle never become popular or had the automobile arrived before the bicycle.

Where's the Snow??

It's the last day of November. We've had our studded snow tires on our bikes for a month and a half now. I know I'll probably jinxed it by saying this, but thus far, we haven't had any snow. I've seen a small patch of ice on the road on two chilly mornings. Other than that, it has been a mild autumn. We've had some rain, and some cold days, but really not much of either. Tim is still wearing shorts most days. Probably the coldest I've been while biking was that morning in October that I rode through the rain with shorts and sandals.

The NOAA weather forecast is calling for a 30% chance of rain or snow showers this evening and tonight. After that the next mention of snow in the forecast is Thursday night and Friday, also with a 30% chance of snow or rain. The last day of finals--the end of the semester--is only 18 days away. There is a chance--a chance that probably just got smaller with me mentioning it out loud--that we might finish our official experiment in living car-free without ever riding through snow. (Knowing the fickleness of weather, though, we might get two major blizzards in the next two weeks.)

Not that I'm complaining though. I tried commuting by bike a couple times last winter. It is significantly harder to ride on snowy roads, even with the snow tires. If the snow is more than a couple inches deep, walking is almost an easier option. Snow also increases the hazards from cars. Winter commuting can be done, of course. There are others who live car-free year-round in snowy climates. Years ago before I got my driver's license, I used to commute to work by bike near Buffalo, New York. I remember one morning, in the 5:30 AM dark, riding gingerly down the road through about 4 or 5 inches of snow and then hearing a snow plow come up behind me. I was terrified, but survived without incident.

Tim and I talk some about where we want to be in the future. I've come to the conclusion that living car-free year round probably makes a lot more sense in a warmer climate. If we were to stay in Vermont, I think I'd want to drive the car through the winter months. In our discussions, I can get very opinionated on the subject. As I write about it here though, I wonder if at least part of that is my fear of the very really possibility of facing snowy riding soon. Things tend to get larger than life the longer I dwell on them. Once we actually do ride in snow it probably won't be as bad as I'm making it out to be.

Not that I'm complaining about the mild weather, though. I'll take a ride in the rain over a ride in the snow most days.

Staying Local for Thanksgiving

This year for Thanksgiving we had to decline the invitation to join my family at my uncle's house near Ithaca, New York. Getting there without the use of private automobiles presented too large of a challenge for me to wrap my head around in the midst of finishing all the class projects that were due the day before break began. That was unfortunate as my cousin recently got married and I've not yet had the opportunity to meet his wife or congratulate him in person. Would it have been worth the carbon footprint to drive out to Ithaca to stay in touch with family? Probably, but it will have to wait for another time.

Instead we spent Thanksgiving with our neighbor up the hill. It was a great day with lots of yummy food and I enjoyed spending time with Barbara and her family. One of the benefits of not traveling for the holidays is that the time that would have been spent packing and traveling can instead be spent on other things. We've been able to spend time as a family--reading to Zeb endlessly--and get caught up on some of our postponed projects.

The Thanksgiving break from classes has also provided a break from commuting. I haven't ridden my bike in three days--the longest stretch since classes started at the end of August. I've slept in a lot and my cold seems to finally be clearing up. It's amazing what rest will do.

Zeb has started commenting on our biking-lifestyle. I guess he thinks it is too new fangled or something: Three times now when we've tried to put him in his bike seat, he's said "No. Zeb walk!" and taken off down the road toward town. Maybe someday he'll be the one to start an experiment in only walking for a semester.

A Cold is Not a Medical Emergency

After some heavy thought on the matter, I have come to the conclusion that a cold is NOT a medical emergency. So even though I've been fighting of this cold for the past week and a half, I am not entitled to drive the car. When my cold morphed into a sinus infection, I decided that I am entitled to take a day off (today, in fact) from classes and assignments to sleep and drink plenty of fluids.

It's an interesting predicament. I had thought of taking a day off earlier, when I first got sick, but to be officially excused from classes, I would need a doctor's note. To get a doctor's note, I would have to cycle into Poultney or Castleton, since a cold really isn't a medical emergency. And if I was healthy enough to cycle into town, than surely I was healthy enough to go to class.

I wonder sometimes if the extra exercise from the cycling is bolstering my immune system, or if it is adding extra stress to my body making me more likely to get sick and less able to get healthy. Probably it wasn't helpful to cycle after I got sick.

Anyway, one day off from cycling and classes and I'm bound to get better. On to other things.

I paid the bill for our car insurance this week. To keep the car available for medical emergencies and Tim's very sporadic use--(for the record, Tim has only used our car once this semester)--we opted not to place a hold on the insurance. We only carry liability on it, so right now we are paying $0.87 per day to insure against it crashing into anything while it sits in the parking lot. Funny, isn't it?

Bike/Car Balance

This morning I received an email from Steve Follett. He lives in Proctor, Vermont and commutes 5.5 miles to Rutland. Over the last 35 years, he's been making the commute by bike for about 9 months each year. He and his wife own a car; he just doesn't use it everyday for driving short distances.

I was impressed by Steve's story. As I learn more about car-free living and transportation in general this semester, I am starting to think that Steve, and others like him, have hit upon an ideal balance. They use cars when it makes sense to, but use bikes when the distances are short and the weather is good. It's a solution that can bring large benefits without the hardships or inconvenience of never using a car.

Last night I read about a 1980 study from Great Britain concluding that if 10% of car trips of 10 miles or less were made by bicycle instead, 14 million barrels of oil would be saved each year. That is equal to 2% of the country's total oil consumption. That's not huge, but it is an appreciable amount. In addition, engines don't burn gasoline efficiently when they are cold, so reducing the amount of short distance car trips can have a disproportionate impact on reducing air pollution.

Bicycles require less space than cars, both while moving and when parked. A switch to using bikes for shorter trips would mean that less space would need to be devoted to parking, opening more area for green space or allowing denser development. That in turn would increase the walkability of developed areas. The extra exercise from biking and walking would reduce medical issues like coronary heart disease, hypertension, obesity, and diabetes, to name a few.

With all those benefits, I wonder why there aren't more of us living like Steve with a healthy balance between bikes and cars. I guess there are a number of reasons why: we get into the habit of driving; we think of bikes as a form of exercise or recreation, not transportation; government policy, land use, and highways are all created and maintained with automobiles--not bikes--in mind; and there is little cultural and societal support for using bikes as transportation. When you ride your bike to get somewhere, you often are seen as slightly strange, as the odd person out.

Despite all that, it is encouraging to think that with small changes in our transportation we could change the world for the better. We don't all need to park our cars permanently. But we should park them more. What if you rode a bike to get groceries? Or to visit friends this weekend? What if instead of driving your car to work then latter going to the gym, you just rode your bike to work--getting the commute and the exercise at the same time? If most people replaced the car with the bike even once a week, overall it would make significant changes for the better.

Road-kill

About three weeks ago, a coyote was killed along Rte 30. It was fairly small, with a coat of blond fur, turning to red. We ride that section of road almost every day of the week, so I saw its body frequently, watching the changes. It lay in the middle of the road for several days until some thoughtful soul dragged it to the side of the road. It settled there into the softer soil while microbes and other decomposers began their work. The fur turned color, slowly graying. The skin began to sink between the ribs; flattening, sinking, slowly returning to the earth. By spring it will probably be a scattering of bones with some wisps of fur, if nothing moves it first.

I seem to notice road-kill more riding on my bike than I did in the car. I'm moving slower and there is time to look around. Frogs, squirrels, groundhogs, the coyote, newts. In the summer after a rain, our dirt road is a carnage of newts squashed by tires, their bodies flat and drying as the road dries. I don't think drivers even notice when a newt is hit--they're too small. I'm sure I'm guilty of running over my fair share of newts when I drove my car this past summer. They are hard to avoid: small, numerous, hard to see.

In all honesty, most road-kill is probably unintentional. It's difficult to avoid an animal that darts out in front of you, or that you don't see til the last second. Automobiles are heavy enough and move fast enough that accidents are bound to happen. It's not limited to autos either: my uncle Andy once hit a bear while riding a bicycle. (It's true!) He was riding down a steep, windy trail, going full tilt. He headed around a curve, and there in the middle of the trail was a black bear. Well, he had no time to stop or slow down, so smack into the bear he hit. He was catapulted into the air and landed in the grass nearby. He looked up. The bear was looking down at him like, "What the hey?" The bear stood up and walked away. My uncle, rather shakily, collected himself and his bike. Neither party sustained any lasting damage, but my uncle was able to show off the bear hair caught in his handle bars for months afterwards.

(After reading this post, my uncle Andy has offered the following corrections: "I was riding a recumbent tandem on a straight road, on the level, at moderate speed, when the bear ran out of the woods directly into my my path. I was not catapulted, because I was not on a wedgie-head-firster, but fell sideways to the ground." Sorry Andy for getting it wrong the first time!)

Over the course of our car-free experiment, Tim and I have each found rewarding "road-kill." In September, Zeb and I were riding into class when I noticed a brown paper bag in the middle of the road. I was about to pass it by as yet more litter, when I saw a block of cheese nearby. I stopped to investigate and all told found five blocks of cheese in their wrappers with a still-cold ice pack. The cheeses were all very good and locally made: cave-aged farmhouse, blue cheese, soft triple cream cheese. We enjoyed a week of high-class cheese and crackers.

Just a couple weeks ago, Tim found a three pound jar of honey on the side of the road. It was crystallized, but seemed to be fine other than that. He put it in a bath of warm water on the wood stove overnight and by morning it was back to a gorgeous liquid state and ready for use.

I guess in the end, all road-kill ends up as food, if not for us, then for the crows and ravens, for the microbes and grubs. The nutrients are returned to the earth and picked up by another organism. Life continues.

Other Car-Free People!

Earlier this week I began browsing the Internet, looking for information for and about bicycle commuters and other people who choose to use cars less or not at all. I was surprised and impressed by what I found: there are websites, forums, and blogs all devoted to car-free living or bicycle commuting.

Did you know that between the 2000 Census and the 2008 Census, there was a 43% increase in people who commuted to work by bicycle? Granted, bicycle commuters still only constitute around a mere 0.5% of all commuters nationwide. Of course, that's an average. In Stanford, California, bicycles account for 44.92% of the transportation options taken by commuters. Surprisingly, in Missoula, Montana, where the winters are fierce, bicyclists account for 5.88% of commuters.

I was also surprised to learn that "Emergency Economic Stabilization Act of 2008"--better known as the Wall Street Bailout--includes provisions allowing employers to take a tax credit for reimbursing bicycle commuters for reasonable expenses associated with their commute. The program is similar to others already in place that provide benefits to employees who commute via mass transit or carpooling. I was excited to hear about this--perhaps the turning of a new leaf?--until I saw that the bicycle commuter benefits were limited to $20 a month, or $240 per year, while the carpooling benefits can be as high as $115 per month, a whopping $1,380 per year. It seems like while bicycle commuting is receiving some notice, it is still playing second-fiddle to the car and other internal combustion vehicles.

Not everyone is enthralled with cars, though, and not everyone can afford to own and maintain one. Internet forums such as "Bike Forums: Car-free Living" are packed with people who use bikes rather than cars. I was incredibly impressed to learn that there are people who have been car-free for years. Not all of them live in warm, sunny climates. If you want to see some inspiring photos of winter commuting, check out this link: http://www.bikeforums.net/showthread.php?t=591869 . This couple lives in rural Maine and are car-free; he for two years, she for one. When it gets snowy, they are out there going to work. Actually, he points out that he gets there sooner than his co-workers, because while they are out shoveling their driveways, he is on his bike and riding.

Reading stories like this one make me feel a little bit more confident about the coming winter. They also challenge me with the question of what I'll do after the semester is over. Start driving the car again? Stick to the bike? Some combination of the two?

The Savings

Recently there have been several days when I just haven't wanted to ride my bike. I'm tired, my muscles are stiff and sore, and the hills on the ride home from town seem far too big. It's not that I want to drive the car, it's just that I'd rather just be there already. But I'm not, and I haven't given myself any other options, so I climb onto my bike and slowly, but surely, I make it home.

On one such morning as I rode in to town, to keep my mind off my thigh muscles, I started to calculate our savings from not driving the car this semester. Here's a low-down of what I came up with:

With traveling to town and back an average of six days a week, over fifteen weeks we will have saved 30 gallons of gasoline and kept 150 pounds of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere. At current gas prices of about $2.69 per gallon, that is a savings of $80.70.

What?!? ONLY $80? The new rear wheel on my bike alone cost $60, not to mention the new chain and sprockets on Tim's bike, our studded snow tires, and the hours of tune-up that Tim has put into keeping our bikes functioning.

As I whizzed down the last hill into town, I was dismayed that it appeared that we were actually spending more to leave our car sitting in the parking lot. Then I thought it through a bit more. My previous calculations assumed that as a family we would be able to coordinate our schedules so that we could always drive together. We often ride home together, but coordinating 8 AM classes with a sleepy 1-year old doesn't usually work. So the previous number should be doubled since Tim would be driving separately from me: we've saved $160. (This doesn't get into the costs incurred if we both wanted our own cars.)

Of course, I'm also comparing apples to oranges here; I'm comparing the fuel for our car with the repairs for our bicycles. Generally repairs and parts for cars are much more expensive, even if you can find a good mechanic. (Earlier this year our car had issues with the spark plugs, costing about $400 to diagnose and repair.) And then there is the cost of insurance, inspection, and registration. Our car is still registered and insured, so we haven't seen any savings from that. This alone would be a significant savings--about $400 per year--if we completely switched to bicycles.

As I rode home that evening, mulling over these additional savings, I realized that there were intangible aspects of commuting by bike that I appreciated more than the money saved. These is something about riding my bike that makes me feel more alive than I do when driving the car. There is also something about the bike that makes me feel more connected to this place and this community than I do with my car. I move more slowly. I experience weather directly. I see my neighbors more. I see more wildlife. I shop at local businesses more. I like all of those things. They make me feel good about living where I do.

I also appreciate the things that I don't do as a result of not driving the car. I don't buy gasoline. I really like that. (While writing a paragraph above, I realized that I have no idea how much gasoline costs right now. It's not something I pay attention to anymore.) I don't have to start the engine and check all the gauges. I don't have to scrape the ice off my windshield. I don't add greatly to the amount of noise and air pollution. I don't add so much to the danger in the world--a bicycle hitting something is on a completely different scale than a car hitting something. I don't have to justify the use of the car in my mind. I don't feel guilty for driving to hear a speaker at the college talk about climate change.

By foregoing the car and riding the bicycle, I am living more on a human-scale. I'm a small step closer to living with my actions in alignment with my beliefs. And that is priceless.

Scary Roads and Kind Strangers

Earlier this week, I was pulling out my bike for the ride into campus as our neighbor, Avery, was getting on the school bus. Avery--who is in third grade--and I leave for school at about the same time a few days each week. I often see and wave to her school bus two or three times during the ride in--once as it picks up Avery, once as it passes me in the other direction, and once as it drops students off at the high school. This day, as Avery boarded the bus, the bus driver climbed down and introduced herself. "If you ever want a ride," she offered, "I could probably take you and your bike on the school bus."

I explained that our car was sitting in the parking lot nearby and that I was riding my bike for a school project, but I was touched by her kindness. Now as the big, yellow bus passes me there are two people on board that I wave to. And, who knows, as the weather gets colder, I might take her up on the offer. It is, after all, a form of public transportation.

Over the past month or so, people have begun to notice us riding our bikes. I often get comments from people saying, "Oh, I saw you riding your bike on Rte. 30." This usually is quickly followed by a comment about the shoulder being narrow or the road being scary. Sometimes the person will add something about how they would ride their bike, but the road is too dangerous for that.

I've thought about these comments. After all, many days of the week Tim or I are carrying our son with us while we ride. I have come to the conclusion that the road is not scary; there really is nothing about the road itself that is dangerous. It meanders up and down a few hills, goes around some bends, and skirts the edge of the lake. It is plenty wide for a posse of bicycles to ride on. The road isn't scary; cars are scary.

All joking aside, it seems to me that the more people get out and use roads for something besides driving cars, the safer it will be for everyone using non-motorized transportation. If no one ever rides a bike or walks on a particular stretch of highway, then motorists won't be on the lookout for slower, more vulnerable travelers. If motorists are accustomed to seeing others using the roadways, I like to think that they will drive more cautiously.

We are lucky here. I rarely feel endangered by cars on my commute. Most drivers are very respectful as they pass, slowing down and giving me plenty of space. I'm grateful to all those who show such courtesy. Even though the shoulder is only six inches wide in places, it's plenty of space for me to get mostly out of the travel lane. And, altogether, there really isn't that much traffic. Some mornings I only see a dozen or so vehicles on the way into town. So, the short is, the road's not scary and the cars aren't too bad either. (Snow on the roads might change my views on some of that.)

Snow Tires, Snow Suits, and a New Rear Wheel

Tim put the studded snow tires on our bikes over the weekend--I thought it was a bit early. On Monday a friend in class told me that Massachusetts had a snowstorm over the weekend, so I have to admit that I was wrong and Tim was right on time. Even though it hasn't snowed here yet, it is prudent to be prepared. There is a pleasant satisfaction in listening to the hum of the studs on the pavement as I ride into campus.

We purchased the snow tires on-line last winter as we began to experiment with occasional winter bike rides. I was amazed at what a difference they make in icy conditions. A couple times we rode out on frozen Lake St. Catherine. Even on sheer ice, the bikes felt solid. Using the studded snow tires greatly increases the safety of winter commuting. With the snow tires on, there is less concern about slipping on a patch of ice and landing in front of an oncoming vehicle. They do slow me down though: the ride each way is now about 5 minutes longer, even on bare pavement. With snow on the road, that time increases even more.

Zeb's getting ready for winter as well. While in Rutland last week, I purchased a down, one-piece snowsuit with hand and foot coverings. He's been trying it out. It's a cinch to use--we don't have to remember gloves, snow pants, jacket, etc. Just slide him in, zip him up, and we're done. We haven't gotten into really cold temperatures, but so far he stays quite warm with it on.

My rear wheel finally bit the dust. Earlier in the semester, while on a pleasure ride over a class 4 road, I had broken a spoke. I didn't notice for quite a while and continued to ride the bike. Tim eventually saw the problem, replaced the spoke, and trued the wheel, but I had already weakened the other spokes. They started popping. Each time Tim tried to true the wheel, another spoke would break a couple days after. Last Thursday, the wheel was completely out of alignment and rubbing significantly on the brakes. I decided that I was OK with spending the money on a new wheel.

On Friday, Tim started looking for a new wheel that would fit my bike. He searched the Internet and looked at a couple big bike supply chains. They didn't have what we needed. (My bike takes a 700 wheel, which seems to be going out of vogue.) He called one of the suppliers in who-knows-where. They recommended that he check for a used one at The Old Spokes Home in Burlington, of all places. Tim gave them a call and was greatly impressed by what they were doing--recycling and reselling old bikes and bike parts--and with the service. He ordered the new wheel. This is the best part: for $15 shipping, it came the next day. Fast service, good prices, used parts: What more can you ask for? We'd recommend them to anyone looking for bikes or bike parts (http://www.oldspokeshome.com/).

An Engineless Tangent

Notes from Tim:

In the last entry, Ruth mentioned our using the chain saw for getting in this year’s wood. I would like to share a bit more of our experiences in engineless firewood gathering.
Around December of last year our chain saw seized up after I didn’t mix enough oil with the gas. I had already been interested in trying to get the wood in using older style large bucksaws. Ruth’s uncle passed on to us two saws that her grandfather had bought, a 6’ two man saw and a 5’one man saw. I purchased “Keeping the Cutting Edge: Setting and Sharpening Hand and Power Saws” by Harold H. Payson, and got the one man saw into working condition. At first I borrowed a saw set and then my uncle passed one on to me that had been my grandfathers’.
So up to this point we probably had about three quarters of a cord of dry wood already cut. I started by getting up about an hour earlier than usual and going out to work on wood for two hours. With the bucksaw, splitting maul, and wedges I got in about two to three days worth of wood in that time. For many days I cut up a fallen elm, first starting with the branches and ending with 30” diameter logs as I worked towards the base of the tree.
So what is it like? Well it is definitely a workout. After two hours, I was usually ready to stop but certainly not exhausted. I could feel myself getting stronger as the days passed which felt good. Getting in the wood without the obnoxious chain saw noise was great. I felt good about not using the fuel, not spewing the ground with gallons of bar oil, and creating less pollution. I was probably getting in about five to seven times less wood than I could have with a chain saw. Also some cuts, especially overhead, were significantly harder. As a very novice saw sharpener, I suspect that the sawing will get somewhat easier as my skills improve. The saw did throw decent sized chips and didn’t bind at all.
So why are we using a chain saw again? Once again we didn’t get any wood in this summer due to a strange combination of being busy and lazy at the same time. In terms of heating, we put our efforts into better insulating the house so we wouldn’t need as much wood. As cold weather rolled in, we felt the need to get ready while having less time due to more outside commitments. A good excuse? No. I think getting the wood in by hand is the superior method for us given our small home, desire for a small ecological footprint, and desire for a simple lifestyle. This is not the first time we’ve tried something new that felt better, then gone back to our old way of doing things. Sometimes we swing back and forth a bit until we find the way we like best. Presently we wash our son’s diapers by hand but do our own laundry in the washing machine then dry them all on the line. One thing I have learned; it is 100% realistic for our small family living in Vermont to get in our winter’s wood without using a chain saw or gas log splitter.

--Tim

Cars, Buses, and Cold Toes

Temperatures are falling below the freezing point at night. Yesterday morning was in the thirties and raining. My uncle, an enthusiastic cyclist who had been visiting over the weekend, informed me that I was crazy as I saddled up on my bike in shorts and sandals for the ride into town. He was right: it took an hour or so on campus for my toes to stop aching. Today I wore socks, shoes, and long pants. Ahhh, much better.

In the afternoon yesterday I took a long-postponed trip into Rutland--our nearest town of any size, about 20 miles north and east--via bus. Last winter the Rutland bus service expanded to include Poultney. Buses make the round trip five times a day during the week. It costs $2 and takes a little less than an hour on the way there and a little more than an hour on the way back. There is even a bike rack on the front of the bus that can be used for no extra charge. Once in the city, I was able to catch local buses for $0.50 a ride to the various stores that I needed to visit. In a few hours I had everything that I had come for and was ready to catch the next bus back to Poultney. Altogether, the trip took a little more than four hours and cost $5.00. For occasional trips, it seems that the bus is a much cheaper option than owning a car, and paying for gasoline, insurance, and maintenance.

My trip to Rutland made me realize that I haven't been to a town besides Poultney in almost two months. Part of that is due to my college coursework, which keeps me perpetually busy, but another part is due to the additional time and energy required to travel anywhere if I'm not just hopping into my car and driving off. Last Saturday night some friends were having a potluck and barn dance. We were invited, but didn't go because I just couldn't muster the energy to ride six miles over the hills and then come back in the dark. With the car, I won't have taken into account the amount of energy required to travel there, even though more energy would have been needed to push my car and me up the hills to their house. A bike and rider is much lighter and, according to physics, would require less energy to move than a car and rider. However, since with the bike we use our own energy we think about it more than we do with a car where the energy being used is from fossil fuels.

Tim started thinking about the sheer amount of energy required to move a car this week as well. On Friday he used our car to make a trip to Massachusetts, four hours away. He was going to teach a class with the Children of the Earth Foundation at a high school, but unfortunately, there was a miscommunication in the dates and no one was there when he arrived. As he drove the four hours home, he thought about the 14 or 15 gallons of gasoline he had burned and the amount of energy they contained. If that much gasoline could push a ton of steel (the car) and himself about 400 miles, what else could it do? And how much more beneficial might that be than a road trip?

When he got home, Tim decided that he was OK with hanging up the two-man pull saw and pulling out the chainsaw to get in our firewood for the winter. A gallon of gas later and we have a cord and a half of wood starting to dry. So now, as temperatures continue to fall, my toes have a place to warm up at home after riding from town in sandals.

wear and tear

Notes from Tim:

Before the car free semester we were riding our bikes 40-70 miles per week. Now we probably put in 60- 90miles. We are experiencing a few mechanical issues now which were probably brought on sooner because of the extra miles. Ruth's rear wheel has broken a few spokes which I have replaced. At this point it would make sense to replace them all or buy a new rear wheel(we will replace them all). My bike's chain, front chainrings, and rear sprockets are all worn pretty good. The bottom bracket is squeaking for grease. Today the chain finally just snapped. Now this is a twelve year old bike and these things had not been replaced before. Still it feels like the extra miles coupled with the extra loads on racks and trailers takes its' toll. Even so less expensive than fuel and maintenance on the car. Tim

Rain and Night Riding

We've been getting into fall weather during the past two weeks or so. The skies are cloudy and rain is in the forecast almost everyday. The leaves on the trees change color daily. Temperatures are falling, but haven't plunged yet, still ranging from the high 30s to the low 60s. The chilly air hasn't become much of an issue yet. I still wear sandals on my commute to classes; Tim is still wearing shorts. Zeb gets bundled up more: long pants, shoes, sweaters, and sometimes a thin hat under his helmet. He gets colder sitting still riding than we do pedaling.

Even the rain hasn't been that bad. I had thought it would. The first few days, when rain was in the forecast each day of the week, I dreaded my rides into classes. But I planned ahead with a spare change of clothes in my locker at school and a plastic garbage bag lining my book bag. And you know, it hasn't been too bad. I've definitely gotten wet, but I haven't gotten drenched yet. Usually the rain is light enough, and the ride short enough, that I end up just being damp at the end. Tim's schedule is flexible enough that he is often able to wait for a "weather window" before heading out. (Yesterday we tried that: we waited til late morning and clouds breaking to blue skies to head into town. We did fine until we reached Main Street, a few blocks from the college. Then the downpour hit: we were soaked by the time we reached campus.)

Overall, I haven't really minded the weather. Last night was the exception. We stayed late on campus to see the opening of an art show put on by a friend. Zeb and I left around 7:00 PM. Zeb was tired and dozed off for the beginning of the ride. I love riding in the dark most nights. There is something about the darkness that seems almost physical, caressing my skin. The air is usually still, and the scents seem stronger. There is less traffic, and I turn off my headlight and ride by the moon light. About halfway home though, it started to rain. I was OK with that, we were heading home to bed, so the wet didn't really matter. But the rain woke Zeb and he started crying. I tried to console him with talk about home and bed, but he was tired and didn't understand why he had to sit in the rain. I felt bad that there was so little I could do for him. He had warm clothes on and he was only getting wet on his hands, face, and head, but he just didn't like it. We did get home eventually. Zeb went to sleep and was fine in the end. But it was the first time this semester that I've really been bothered by the weather as I've ridden my bike.

As we continue to move towards winter, we work to improve our bad weather systems. We're digging out or buying appropriate warm clothing for each member of the family. Tim wants to put the studded snow tires on the bikes in mid-November; I want to hold out, enjoying the speed and ease of the summer tires.

It looks like there are a few sunny days in the upcoming weather forecast. I'll put aside concerns about the upcoming winter and enjoy the current fall splendor.

The Background

My husband, Tim, our one-year old son, Zeb, and I live about five miles outside the small college town of Poultney, Vermont. We own a car, a 2000 Mazada Protege, but we don't use it, at least, not now. And we don't plan to use it for another ten weeks. As part of my project for Delicate Balance, the senior capstone course at Green Mountain College, I've decided to take my education in Ecology and Sustainability into personal practice by not driving or riding in personal vechicles. My own exceptions to this rule are medical emergencies and class field trips. Tim says that he'll only use a car for what he needs a car for. (So far, that's been once for work and once between the train station and his parents' house.) Zeb hasn't said much on the subject.

Our commute to town isn't too bad: it's one mile of dirt road and four miles along Rte. 30. The shoulder width varies and there are low to moderate amounts of car traffic. There are two up-hills on the way into town, and three on the way home. Getting into town takes about 20 minutes; coming home takes about 30 or 35. I have classes five days a week, but with weekend activities, I often find myself riding in six or seven days a week. Tim comes into town four to six days a week.

I have a babyseat for Zeb on the rear rack of my bike. Tim added a rack to the front of my bike so I can carry both bookbag and baby. Tim carries Zeb on his back in a soft babycarrier called a Patapum. That leaves his rear rack free for bags and grocieries. He says that Zeb stays warmer this way and that Z. is more likely to stay asleep upon arrival at the destination. I've tried this method, but I find it hard on my body and prefer the seat.

We have a trailer for large loads that Tim built last week. (I'll add pictures to a later post.) Tim got an old kid-seat trailer in trade for some bike repair work he did. We used that for most of September until the wheels began to fall off. We looked at buying a trailer, maybe a BOB or a Burley Nomad, but the prices (>$300) were a bit prohibitive for us. Instead, in one morning, Tim built a simple, rugged, flatbed trailer from dump parts and a piece of luan. Total cost: about $17.

That's the general background on what we're doing. As the semester progresses, I'll be adding more postings about how things are going, what it's like, and general thoughts on transportation ecology and ethics. I hope you enjoy the read!