bicyclefreedom.com

There are now so many people using their bikes as transportation in Los Angeles that we actually have a parking problem. A number of businesses (notably independent cafes and restaurants) have installed bike parking in front of their doors. I suspect this has been invaluable in helping them survive the recession.

Anyway, I’ve been wondering whether the owners put up bike racks to attract more bike commuting customers, or whether they did it because many of their customers were bikers already.

Which came first? And could anybody build up their business by showing that they’re edgy, forward-looking and ecologically aware by catering more to bike riders?

My battered old Ortlieb panniers are still holding out, after more than 5 years of almost daily use. Someone at the coffee shop this morning asked me about them, and had similar luck with his own panniers.

This is something I love about the bicycle industry. There are so many good companies that really care about what they do. A lot of gear is built to perform, and built to last.

So many other industries produce crap that wears out fast, relying on planned obsolescence to keep their profits coming. Chalk this up as another sustainability benefit of bike commuting and bike travel. More greenbelt, less landfill.

Terracina roughly translates into “little piece of land” but it’s hard to understand where they got this title from. Everything here seems big, towering, rocky to the extreme.  The craggy top of the place once housed a fortress called Anxur, and the temple to Jupiter/Zeus/Jove is called the temple of Jove in Anxur.

The top of the city is a sheer delight for an amateur history buff like me. The original Appian Way is clear and obviously marked in the main piazza of the town, running right between the venerable duomo and an excellent bar where the espresso will do wonders for an exhausted bike tourist.

The walls of the duomo are made of building materials filched from other, far older structures. So you see all kinds of tiles with latin inscriptions, chunks of marble, bits of bas-relief and artwork. These 3-dimensional collages are actually fairly common all over Italy, and they’re one of my favorite things to look at.

But when you reach the Piazza dei Paladini and the Temple of Jove in Anxur, you’re in for a sight. The fortress town of Terracina is dwarfed by the mountainous cliffs, the rolling countryside far below, and the shimmering Mediterranean rippling off into the distance.

Most of all, you see the via Appia clearly marked in both directions. The original road has been preserved as a park going out of Rome, and when this gives way to Strada Statale 7 (SS7) it still runs through the Pontine Marshes in a straight line, flanked by umbrella pines. From Jove’s lofty perch you have a dark green line showing you the way.

In fact, the umbrella pines are almost always a reliable marker. Throughout my trip, whenever I was unsure of the way, I would get somewhere high up and look for the pines. Even in the most dry and dusty sections of Puglia and Basilicata, it wasn’t that unusual to pass a lonely umbrella pine marking the remnants of Rome’s most famous road.

As you leave Terracina heading south, you’ll see the famous cut through the rock that eliminated the need to take the steep slope over the mountain and saved hasty Romans an entire day of travel.

The road leaving Terracina takes you along some of my favorite parts of the journey. As you weave up the switchbacks towards Fundi and Itri, you’ll come across some well-preserved ruins of the Appian Way.

On my last tour a farmer was selling olives from a wooden cart on the side of the road. I munched on these as I walked along the old via Appia, and wondered where I would find myself next.

I’d love to see a world where things like the current mess in the Gulf of Mexico didn’t happen. Where the oceans and mountains and forests and their inhabitants could just coexist with us crazy bike-riding, car-driving apes and all living beings could at least count on breathable air and drinkable water.

I don’t ride my bike because I feel this way. I think I feel this way because I ride my bike.

My sweetie and I just spent a few days riding through the mists of the California Coast. Lots of great scenery and wildlife and some wonderful food, hikes, and all the other good things you’d expect on a bike tour.

But we also spent a lot of time picking up trash. There are so many people, it seems, who “enjoy nature” by driving to a beautiful spot, feasting and drinking, and then getting back into their cars to go home. Nothing wrong with the first two, but the last is inexcusable. Especially where there’s a trash can just a few yards away.

In the end, Johana and I had to set limits on how much trash we could clean up. We set up a sort of triage, focusing on plastic and other dangerous litter, and leaving the worst messes that were beyond hope.

It seems like the worst perpetrators drink Budweiser Lite.

Maybe if you rode your bike to the party, really earned your way there with sweat and possibly blood, you’d appreciate the remoteness and not always trash the place.

You can probably guess where I stand on global climate change, but let’s assume that the skeptics are right.

Suppose global warming is a myth, we’re at the tail end of a natural warming cycle, and that everything is about to get back to normal. Let’s say that even with peak oil, the scientists and industry leaders manage to develop technology that lets us seamlessly transition to new sources of alternative, renewable, sustainable, eco-friendly energy.

We all get to live happily ever after in a dynamic global free-market utopia where there are jobs for everyone and nobody has to give up their car.

If that happened, would there still a reason to ride your bike, aside from pure recreation?

I’d say yes, because this isn’t just about saving the planet, or even your own health. Riding bikes is an adventure, a time and place and way to experience the world that’s way more exciting than watching life through a screen.

In fact, if you’re reading this right now, shame on you! It’s a beautiful day.

Turn off your computer and go out and ride.

I spent some time yesterday coaching a newbie on how he could start riding his bike to work at least once a week, avoiding a stressfull drive through the heavy morning traffic of downtown Los Angeles.

I lot of things came up that I thought were obvious-and if you’re already a bike commuter, they’ll probably seem that way to you, too. But he kept saying, “I never would have thought of that” so I guess it’s time to post some tips in case you’re just starting out at bike commuting.

Side Streets

The best streets to ride your bike aren’t usually the same streets where you drive. Plan a route that goes on bike trails, bike lanes, and residential streets. Wherever major transportation corridor you drive through probably has a road or two that runs parallel to it. These side streets are usually almost as fast, with far less traffic. Residential streets are great for this. Drivers avoid anything with a 25 MPH speed limit, but on a bike that’s a very good pace. You’ll save your lungs, and possibly your life.

Trial Run

Test your bike commute route on a weekend. Make sure it’s doable, safe, fun and scenic. You also want to get a good idea of how long it will take you to ride your bike to work, and how you’ll feel when you get there.

Don’t Sweat It

You’re going to get to work a little bit sweaty, and you need to plan for this. Deodorant, baby wipes, and possibly a change of clothes may be merited. If you can stash some of these on-site, you’re in luck. In the summer I ride in shorts and a t-shirt, and change into business clothes when I get to my destination. Garment bags work great for this.

Rainy Weather

There are really three schools of thought on riding your bike to work in the rain. You can be a bike commuter warrior who always makes the trip, rain or shine. You can opt to ride only when the weather is good (and be proud that at least you’re doing something). Finally there are the loonies who don’t feel like they have to ride in the rain, but they do it anyway for fun.

Make sure you’ve got the right gear (which could simply mean a change of clothes when you arrive, and a place to hang up your dripping biker garments), cover yourself and you bicycle with lots of blinking red lights, and keep your sense of humor (or sense of honor?)

Plan B

Bikes are sometimes fragile pieces of equipment, and sooner or later you’re going to have a flat tire, a broken cable, or other minor nuisance. Take the time to learn some basic bike mechanics. REI does free workshops and classes on this, and so do a lot of community colleges and local non-profit organizations. If you’re in Los Angeles, check out the Bicycle Kitchen. Anywhere else, you can find out about stuff in your area by going to the regional section of BikeForums.net

Sometimes knowing how to fix your bike on the fly isn’t enough to get you to work on time. Get familiar with the buses and trains that run near your bike route. Maybe even put a cab company in your cell phone.

Enjoy Your Treats

Eat up! It’s more than just a reward, it’s bicycle fuel. When you start riding your bike to work, you’re going to burn a lot more calories, and you’ll notice that you’re feeling hungrier. Go ahead and have that bacon, avocado, and chocolate sandwich. Not only have you earned it, you need it.

If you’ve done any bike touring in the last couple of years, you’ve probably noticed that a lot of the California Hike/Bike campsites have been moved, restricted, or closed.

The two reasons given for this are budget cuts and problems with transients. I won’t argue either of these points now, even though I have a lot to say about them.

But there’s something wrong with the attitude that many California state parks employees have towards bike tourists. In my travels this week, it seems that every time I pull into a state beach on my bike, the people in the kiosk roll their eyes and act as if I’m a drug-addicted, homeless serial killer. Or at least a nuisance.

This really hurts because I’m a member of the California State Parks Association, I volunteer for eco-restoration projects in the parks, and I’m constantly telling everyone how much fun it is to tour the California coast by bicycle and camp out in the state parks.

Worse still, a lot of the bike tourists I meet are from other countries, and this might be their overriding impression of the United States, and of California in particular. What are we telling them about ourselves?

It used to be fine to arrive at your campsite in the early afternoon and avoid the heavy coastal winds. You could unload your bike, set up your tent, and then hit the beaches, the town, or the hiking trails.

Now most places won’t let you set up until 4 or 5 in the afternoon. It’s like you can only eat and sleep, but you’re not allowed to enjoy the park itself. And that’s not all.

When I registered at a certain campground, the ranger took it upon himself to remind me that I can only stay for one night, there’s no alcohol allowed, and check-out time is 9 a.m. As I set up my tent he came by to double check that I paid the fee, and reminded me again of all the rules and policies.

As I left Pismo Beach, the woman in the kiosk demanded to see my receipt, asked me the number of the campsite I had stayed in, and wanted the names of the other people who had been there.

This suspicious attitude might be reinforced by the bad behavior of a few bikers, and possibly one or two real problems. But I suspect it’s an attitude that people have overall towards bikers.

A lot of people still think that if you choose not to travel by car it means you can’t afford to and that this automatically makes you a moocher, or worse.

The truth is, I’ve spent a lot of time picking up beer cans and other trash left behind by the “normal” people. I’ve seen car campers exhibit some of the worst behavior you can imagine, while us bikers quietly went about our business.

A few days ago I even watched an angry woman yell at the ranger and demand a refund because it was raining.

I’ve been having a great time this week, with some amazing experiences. But when I sit down to write, this anti-bike bummer is what comes to the front of my mind. Here are a few things I wish the state parks employees understood about bike travelers:

• We’re generally quieter, cleaner, and leave our campgrounds in better condition than the typical visitor
• We’re environmentally aware, and chances are we give a lot of our time and money to the park system, either directly or indirectly
• We help the economy by spending our travel budget at local stores, restaurants, bike shops and other businesses
• A lot of us are bloggers, reporting our experiences to the world

The first time I tried to bike the entire via Appia, I wanted to be as faithful as humanly possible to the original roadbed, even though local archaeologists and history buffs insisted this could not be done. They were only partly right.

I’m getting ready for a new bike tour next week, roughly following El Cammino Real, the Royal Highway, which is (or was) California’s Appian Way. But when I did my research, I learned something interesting that maybe should have been obvious.

There never was a single road.

Max Kurillo and Erline Tuttle wrote a book about this route, the efforts of historians to preserve it, and the bells that mark the way. They also made an important point that El Cammino Real is more of a corridor than an actual road.

There’s a general swathe along the California coast where people traveled consistently along footpaths, trails, riverbeds, and (much much later) primitive roads.  It changed its course like a river in a broad valley, and one voyager’s footprints could easily be overgrown or swept away at high tide.  The route was never marked except by the convenience of each individual traveler.

I would add that the most accurate reconstruction we know of today essentially follows the 101 Freeway, and choosing this as your bike route would just give you a miserable bike tour without a chance to experience the real California.

Ditto for via Appia, as I quickly learned. In some places the route is better known (if only because the ancient Romans were more anal than the colonial Spaniards) but it’s not always the best way to travel. The key, even thousands of years ago, was to follow the general area.

In Rome, I did as the Romans do. I was true to the Appian Way most of the time, visited all the ancient cities and ruins and Roman temples. But I also detoured when it was a choice between a park and a freeway. I stayed at agriturismi, which are more like the lodging a traveler would have found along the via Appia in ancient Roman times. I talked to people, took hikes, ate at mom-and-pop restaurants and drank with the locals at their favorite bars.

Tracing the Royal Highway next week, I’ll stay in the corridor, but I won’t worry too much about whether or not I’m bicycling over Portola’s footprints. I’ll visit the missions, taste a lot of wine, swim and camp at many beaches, talk to farmers and ranchers, and prove that what’s just off the 101 is far more interesting than what used to be on it.

My original intent was to tour the missions. But after I started reading a few books about the missions and their history, I saw that there are far more interesting things to see and do on a bike tour. I’m looking forward to this, and I hope I’ll have something worthwhile to tell.

This is the coolest thing since I first removed my training wheels. You can go to Google Maps, select “Get Directions” and in the options down below you can ask for directions by bicycle. Yay!

This is still a new thing. Google warns there may be dangerous roads on the bike routes, not to mention unmapped bikeways. And of course, the most direct bike route isn’t always the most interesting bike route, even if it may be the safest.

The ailing BikeMetro offered more, at least for Los Angeles, because it let you factor in your tolerance for hills and traffic.

But if you’re looking for a basic bike ride from point A to point B, especially in an urban environment with a lot of traffic, this is a good way to start and you can do your own “research” and exploration on the pavement.

Thank you, Google!

I want to start chronicling the ways I avoid traffic when biking around Los Angeles. I’m not sure how to organize this, probably with a category and sub-cats so you can follow along and get my suggestions.

Does anyone with WordPress skills have tips on the best way to do this?

A few of the main routes I plan to post here:

• How to bike from PCH to Santa Monica without carrying your bicycle up a staircase
• Bicycling from downtown to each of the university campuses and back
• Bike rides around the terminal stops of all the metro lines
• Major east-west and north-south corridors

We’ll see how this goes.