If Not Now, When?

I learned a bunch of things by riding my bike a quarter of the way across this gigantic continent of ours (actually, it was further than a quarter but only because of the circuitous route we took, so I'm still calling it a quarter.) I learned a few things about the people that inhabit the spaces between here and there, I learned some things about the infrastructure that we have for traveling from here to there, I learned some things about time and space, and I learned a whole bunch of things about one particular citizen of these United States. That would be myself of course. I'll get to all of that eventually but today I want to focus on that infrastructure bit. As you probably know, we have an incredible array of roads and highways in this country, most of them in fantastic condition. I have done only a tiny little bit of traveling abroad myself but Marc has traveled widely and deeply, often in parts of the world that are still in juvenile phases of development. This caused him to comment on the state of our roads, how beautifully maintained they are, how numerous they are, how many options we have for getting from, say, Rutland VT to Freeland MI. The little bit of traveling I've done in the developing parts of the world, like Maine and Costa Rica, has taught me to be mindful, even thankful, for roads that go in a relatively direct fashion from point A to point B, especially if they do so on smooth surfaces. I'm thankful, I really am. But all of these great roads have come to us at a cost, and we've not yet begun to pay that cost down. I'm pretty sure we will, if not in my lifetime, at least in the lifetimes of people that I know. This all sort of bums me out.

This country was shaped by the automobile. There are a handful of exceptions, places where one could live a rich and satisfying life without owning an automobile but, for the most part, if you don't have a car in this country you are some kind of a kook. How are you going to get to work, get to the grocery store, get anywhere? Not on a bike or on foot, that's for sure, unless you happen to be a suicidal kook. Great tracts of our cities and, even more so, our suburbs are all but inaccessible to bicycle or foot traffic. One place that really stands out in my mind is Bowling green Ohio. This is a college town, a State University town and, from what I've seen, a town that is pretty much off limits unless you are driving an automobile. If you happen to be in Bowling Green on your bike, and you want to get a room for the night and some dinner, well, there's good news and bad. The good news is that there are a multitude of options including all manner of chain motels and restaurants, all conveniently located along the same strip. The bad news is that the road going through that strip is an awful place to have to ride a bicycle, a place that requires one to suspend all self preservation instinct for a time and hope for the best. The people using that road for it's intended purpose -- occupying it in a motor vehicle -- are seemingly very happy to be stuck in their metal boxes. They've got the air conditioning cranked up, they're making lots and lots of phone calls, and they certainly don't want to slow down or move laterally to avoid killing the kooks on the side of the road walking or riding a bicycle. In case you're wondering, Bowling Green isn't the only place like that. In fact there are places just like that here in my hometown of Rutland VT. If I was determined to go to the Hannaford Supermarket, the best supermarket in this fair town (my opinion, others tend to disagree) I would be taking my life in my hands trying to get there by bicycle. I would stand a better chance on foot, but since it's probably a four mile round trip from my city home, I'd need quite a bit of time to accomplish the task. So like, what should I do? Buy a car? Fortunately, I do own a car, so I'm not, you know, a totally irrational and dangerous subversive. But you know what? Owning a car is such a bad deal that I just wish I didn't have to own one.

I did some digging around and found some good statistics. According to AAA of Minnesota, the average annual cost of ownership for a vehicle driven 15,000 miles a year is $7,754 (that statistic is from 2003.) Since the average American earns somewhere in the neighborhood of $17 an hour, that means that the average person has to work over three full months each year just for the privilege (?) of owning that bad investment. That's a quarter of my time, man. Or in a year like this, when no one wants to build or renovate anything, all of my working time. I'm not down with that. If I had been saving that money all these years, instead of using it to pay for my car, I could probably be retired right now. Or, consider that you can park between 7 and 12 bicycles in the space that one car takes up. Think of all the nice green spaces we could have if we didn't need so many parking spots. Or you could build two Bed Bath and Beyond stores, instead of just one, with all that left over space. It costs about $50 to build and maintain a bicycle parking space in a bike rack. It costs about $8500 to build and maintain an automobile parking space in a parking structure. I'm not great with numbers but that seems like a really good savings. I know this is all massively simplified, and also I didn't bother to do any fact checking because I'm a blogger and I don't have to (that is the rule, bloggers can print anything they want) but it just seems to me like we could clear up a couple of our societal problems by taking some of this stuff into account. And I think we should maybe start doing some of these things sooner than later because, you know, our current model of living all spread out and relying almost totally on automobile transport is just not sustainable. Judging by the level of impatience I see in motorists who have to wait behind me for 10 seconds at a stoplight, I'd really hate to see the reaction elicited by a complete and total collapse of our petroleum economy. I think there might be physical violence.

Really long bicycle ride part 2

I am easily sidetracked and I can't quite get the post written that I sat down to write. So here goes again. I am preparing for a fairly long bicycle ride. I know it says really long ride in the title, but it's all relative. Some people think riding down to The Beer King for a six pack is a really long ride. I think riding from Prudhoe Bay to Tierra del Fuego is a really long ride. Consequently, the ride I am preparing for is only sort of long, about 900 miles or so. I am riding from my home here in Rutland VT to my former home of Freeland MI. Unless things don't go according to plan, in which case I may only be riding to Oxford MI, because my ultimate reason for doing this is to attend a memorial celebration for my Grandfather, who passed away 30 years ago.

One of the main reasons I am attempting this ride, which I have contemplated for some time, is that I have the privelege of company this time. My Uncle Marc, who hates to be introduced as my Uncle Marc (one of my very best friends that I've known virtually since I was a fetus, Marc?) is going to accompany me and the two of us are very excited to have this opportunity to ride our bikes and spend some time together. When I found out that he was interested in doing this thing it really solidified my resolve to make it happen. And so it shall. Here are the details as I know them right now:
Marc is arriving in Burlington VT on July 8

He has already purchased a new bike, a Surly Long Haul Trucker just like mine, which I have in my possession and will attempt to have prepared for his arrival.

We will probably do a ride and get our gear together on July 9.

We will hit the road on July 10.

As I mentioned, we have an engagement on July 25 in Oxford MI, so with any luck we will get there under our own power.

I don't know the route exactly but I do know that we are heading for Ticonderoga NY and points west of there on day one. The first couple of days present some pretty significant vertical relief, and after that the climbing mellows out.

We are both very excited to get underway.

I will try to post any info and photos that I can along the way, and of course anything notable that happens in the period immediately prior to setting off. I may or may not bring a computer with me. Depending on how much all of my other crap weighs. Wish us Luck.

Really long bicycle ride (but not a tour)

Okay I've only really go one thing on my mind right now and that is my upcoming long bicycle ride. Some people call it a tour but I call it a long bicycle ride because as a recovering elitist bicycle racer, touring is just one of the things that you always told yourself you would never do. Kind of like wearing one of those helmet mounted rear view mirrors. Or riding around all of the time with a goofy one piece aero bar jacked up all comfy-like (think early nineties triathlon.) You just never think you'll get to that point. I've gotten to that point. I haven't ridden my race bike but once all season. I regularly ride for pleasure on a bicycle that has a front and rear rack. I ride to work on a bastardized cyclocross bike with panniers and a blinking tail light. I have hair on my legs. I will admit, and this is very, very hard for me, that I have considered purchasing one of those afore mentioned helmet mounted rearview mirrors. I am unrecognizable to myself.

I've known it would happen, in the back of my mind, for a while. I saw how the changes presented themselves in the older masters racers when I was still racing. These weren't the pack filler riders either, these were the guys that were winning races, wearing national champion jerseys, pioneers in American cycling, guys that you just knew were real bad asses when they were younger. And now some of these guys were wearing helmet mirrors all of the time. Guys riding on disk wheels all of the time, even for cyclocross and mountain bike races. Guys who only wore skinsuits despite the fact that they are hot, uncomfortable and have no pockets. Guys who used weird gear, like aerodynamic water bottles, even in long road races where such trinkets couldn't possibly have any positive effect. So yeah, I knew that old road racers get weirder and weirder as time goes on. I figure it must have something to do with the constant oxygen deficit that accompanies years of hard training. And now it's happened to me.

Here's the thing. Despite the fact that I just absolutely adore bicycles, I don't really want to ride my bike anymore. Unless, that is, I can ride it someplace in particular. You see, for years I've ridden thousands and thousands of miles a year and gotten...nowhere. I rode all of those miles just for the sake of riding miles. And I no longer want to do that. I want to ride my bicycle somewhere. I don't care where; it could be work, or the grocery store, my family reunion in Michigan, or, my favorite, The Beer King corner store. Just so long as I set out with some destination in mind. Sure, occasionally I'll get a hankering to hit the road just for the hell of it, usually on a nice sunny summer day (which is pretty rare in itself around here) but for the most part, I don't want to go out and ride the same tired loops that I've forced myself to ride inumerable times before just to get in another, say, 30 miles. Now a 900 mile bicycle ride, that's something that gets my blood pumping. As long as I don't call it a tour. Because deep down inside I'm still that smooth legged guy who absolutely must have the lightest possible wheels on the lightest possible frame. The guy wearing the massively logoed jersey and 25 function heart rate monitor. The guy who just absolutely has to go out and ride 30 miles in the rain because that's what his training program says. Wait, now I'm not sure which version of myself is crazier.