bicyclefreedom.com

I plan to bike as many ancient Roman roads as possible in my lifetime. If you want to see some professional photos, video, or history of the via Appia and other ancient Roman roads, check this out:

http://roman-roads.blogspot.com/

If you ever ride a bike in L.A., you probably feel the pain of living in the classic car-dominated culture. So this might surprise you. It certainly blew me away.

Los Angeles could be a bicycle-friendly city

On his Human Transit blog, Jarret Walker listed the top 50 cities with the highest percentage of car-free households. East L.A. made the list, with 21% of households living without the automobile. Even Los Angeles itself was up there, albeit in 49th place, with a car-free density of 16.53%. We beat Seattle!

The reasons don’t have much to do with ecological awareness. It’s more a combination of poverty, age (Los Angeles was a big city before the riode pf the automobile), and urban density. Still, this just empasizes the opportunity here.

There’s always been a weird misconception that the bicycle is a luxury toy for the well-to-do, or a vehicle for the suburbs and the country. But given that poverty and density are compelling obstacles to owning a car for many people, biking just makes more sense. 

There could be a perfect storm brewing over this. Los Angeles has a strong bike culture already, and a bike plan (even if it has many shortcomings) is in place.

With our relatively flat streets and typically good weather (not counting this week), LA should be one of the most bike-friendly cities in the country. Now there’s some political will to make it happen, and statistics to show that it can be done.

Two items caught my eye today. One was Bike Man Dan’s blog post about a set of earrings made from recycled bike tubes. The other was an article about two bike-stealing operations that were foiled by the authorities.

The article made me think of horse thieves in the wild west. These criminals often paid with their lives, because a rider had a strong relationship with his or her horse.  Stealing it was like kidnapping a pet or a loved one.

Bikes are the same. They’re not truly alive, but the relationship between a person and their bike is a lot like the primal bonds that people have had with various animals since the dawn of time.

jewelry made from bicycle skin

The recycled bike tube earrings take this to another level. The same way the skin and bones of the buffalo provided clothing, tools, jewelry and probably much much more.

So be kind to that steel frame. It’s an archetype. Big Game. Steed. Companion. Man’s Best Friend.

Somewhere out there, I wouldn’t be surprised to find Urban Shamans communing with the Bicycle Spirit, thanking it for the day’s ride.

Once you get outside Benevento you hit some beautiful country right away. There was no way I could have predicted the amazing show that was waiting, but that’s the serendipity of bike tours.

It was going to be a major turning point in the tour, and after this night I would spend a lot more time talking to people, sharing stories and experiences, being social. But as I left Benevento, I didn’t know yet what was about to happen.

I rode my bike out of the city early in the evening. A traffic cop told me the way, and soon I was cruising along a winding, hilly country road in the failing light.

I didn’t have plans for where to stay that night, but here’s the great thing about touring southern Italy by bicycle. Your tent almost anywhere in the countryside.

In fact, when I met an old man walking along the side of the road and asked if he knew anywhere to camp, he smiled and gestured magnanimously across the forests and meadows around us.

“You are welcome to camp anywhere you want in my country,” he said.

This was just my second night of stealth camping on the tour of via Appia, but I’ve always had great luck when I leave things up to chance.

The land was deep green, with beautiful oak forests and grassy meadows. At one point I passed a sign leading to the Ponte Rotto, where I would one day fulfill my dream of camping out in ancient Roman ruins. But not this night.

I rode my bike down into a broad valley as the last glow of the sunset disappeared. The world was pitch black. The only light came from my flickering Cat’s Eye bike light and the silver points of stars up above.

I came to a farm at the top of a gentle hill covered with olive trees and grapevines. Nobody seemed to be home when I went to ask permission, so I found a level spot near a bunch of olive trees and set up my tent.

I was ready to crash when I saw a dim light gently bobbing near the spot where I had wheeled my bicycle off the road. It looked like someone walking with their cell phone, so I shouted a friendly “Buona sera!”

No answer, but the light kept coming closer, taking its time.

I didn’t want to startle anyone in the dark, so I turned on my flashlight, pointed it at my own face, and called out another greeting down the hill.

No reply, and this began to feel creepy.

“Listen,” I said in my best possible Italian, “I’m just passing through here on my bike and I stopped because it is dangerous to ride in the dark. I wanted to camp here for the night and leave early in the morning, but I don’t want to cause any problems. I’ll go now if you want me to.”

The mysterious light stopped, but continued to bob gently in the air, flickering on and off. I pointed my light at it, and saw nothing but the low branches of a young oak tree.

A ghost? This wasn’t the only time I’ve ran into ghosts in Italy (that’s another story) but something felt completely normal and natural about this. I walked down to the light and found a large insect on a tree branch. Its abdomen was glowing, and the branch bobbed up and down in the wind.

I laughed out loud as I walked back to my tent, and suddenly a flash of light in the sky caught my eye. A shooting star! A few minutes later I saw another one. The next hour or so was a treat of meteors, stars, and glowing insects.

What happened next is hard to describe, but I’ll try. Laying there in an olive grove in Italy, I felt like I was coming home. I had found a part of myself, something I had lost over the years.

Italy is famous for her natural and artistic beauty, but I’ve been guilty of neglecting the first of these. When I tour in Italy I tend to obsess on paintings and history, cold sculptures and crumbling chunks of marble. But those things get there romance and their magic from the natural world that shaped them and the people who made them.

The whole point of a bike tour in Italy is to breathe life and relevance into the textbook Italy we all think we know.

It took a natural light show in the olive groves of Benevento to show me the error of my ways.

Come to think of it, this is one of the most important reasons to go on a bike tour. It will get you out of your routing, your regular mindset, and show you what you’ve been missing out on.

I don’t spend as much time in cars as most people do, but even so I’m fixed in my ways, just like we all are.

And there’s nothing like a bike tour to take you out of yourself and show you the world in a new way.

Somewhere between Terracina and Formia, you’ll find it. There’s a stark pillar along the side of a winding mountain road. I assume it’s either a milestone or the remains of one of the many monuments that line the Appian way.

The bike ride to this pillar is phenomenal, and there are at least three good reasons to make the trip. First is the “Tomb of Cicero” at one end of the bike route. Most experts agree that this isn’t the really the tomb of Cicero, but it’s near the spot where he died and that’s enough for most people.

Better than Cicero’s tomb, the bike ride from Terracina to Formia passes through a park which includes the original remains of the via Appia, as well as several ancient Roman and Medieval buildings.

In fact, if you’re riding your bike on the main road, you’ll pass through the park several times. The road winds up the mountain in endless switchbacks, while the Appian Way shoots up in the classical straight line, defying gravity just as easily as she defied the Pontine marshes. You can ride your bike up this way if you choose to. I didnt.

But my favorite thing about this section of the Appian bike tour is the town of Itri. I hadn’t meant to stay there, but I was intrigued by the scenery, the friendly locals, and the castle. After taking a long hot shower and stuffing my gullet with fresh pizza, I spent hours wandering around the dark, twisting alleys of the immense fortress on the hill overlooking Itri.

I can’t tell you much about the history of the castle, but I’ll introduce you to someone who can. On our next bike tour through southern Italy, one of my local contacts has offered to hook us up with an archeologist in Itri who can give a tour of the place. I asked him how much something like that would cost and he said, “some cafe in a bar, I assume, but not more…”

So if you’re up for an expert tour of Itri for the price of a cup of coffee, not to mention a zillion other great experiences that you can read about all over my blog, get in touch with me and join us on this trip. The dates are May 15th-June 1st 2010, approximate cost is $1500 plus airfare and bike (rental, purchase, or transportation of your own rig), and I’ll be happy to answer your other questions by phone or email.

Last week I had a conference call to hash out some bike tour details with my fellow riders. If you’re on my email list you’ll get a message about this. If you’re not, but you’d like to be on the list, just shoot me an email: jacob “at” bicyclefreedom.com.

An actual road sign in Puglia, Italy. Which way to Corato? I asked a farmer, and he said "straight ahead."

We’re going to be touring from  May 16 through June 1st, 2010. On June 2nd we’ll be driving a rented van with our bikes back to Rome.

This is longer than originally planned because we’re not ending the tour in Brindisi. We’ll head south to Lecce, which is a beautiful city with a rich history down in the very heel of the Italian boot. I’ve never been there, but an Italian I met on the plane during my last trip told me it’s “The Florence of Southern Italy.”

The longer schedule is also going to give us a lot of time for a long, leisurely trip, with a couple extended stops along the way for rest and laundry.

I’m hoping to arrange a group ride with the Terracina Cycling Club, and a couple of archeologists in Itri and Aeclanum may give us special tours. We’re also going to stopover for 2 nights in the Venosa/Gravina/Matera area so we’ll have plenty of time to see the sasse (beautiful caves that were used as homes and churches for centuries) and several other amazing sites that are off the usual tourist path.

After talking it over with a few people, it seems to make sense not to camp on this tour. We won’t save a whole lot of money by camping, because the areas where camping is available tend to have the nicer and less-expensive lodging options.  We’ll be staying in agriturismo spots most of the time.

Expect to spend an average of 60 euro per evening for lodging. This will usually include breakfast and sometimes dinner. (Keep in mind that the portions will be very small by bicycle touring standards!)

You can save money by sharing a room. I’m willing to take on a room-mate, as long as you don’t snore! Let me know if this interests you.

It looks like there won’t be enough people to get group discounts on anything, so I’ll leave it to you to take care of your own plane tickets and bikes.

If you bring your own bike, we will have a van so you can carry it back to Rome at the end of the tour. I’m planning to either rent a bike there or buy a cheap one at the Roman flea market, Porta Portese. I’ll help you with this, if it’s what you prefer.

That’s it for now. Keep in touch, and I’ll see you in Italy!

One of the best parts of biking in the rain is the looks you get, and the conversations it inspires. When you’re biking in foul weather, especially in a place like LA where foul weather is rare, people take notice. It gives you a chance to change their minds.

While you’re out there pedaling through Valhalla, breathing free air and attacking the most menacing hills, the mortal masses are growing dull and weak behind electronic screens. Entire generations are hyperinsulated from the real world, and we’re paying the price:

Last year’s economic meltdown was caused by a potent mix of greed and laziness, the mindset that easy money should be a given, the bovine mentality that comfort is the norm and serious effort is unnecessary.

The purely physical aspects of life have become so easy for most of us that it’s easy to get lost in this mindset, easy to lose touch with reality, almost impossible to do anything as our resources and freedoms slip away.

At the same time, the few people who stay active and engaged with the world are beating the trend and thriving. The courageous heroes who squarely face the challenges that life throws at them, or who seek out challenges on their own, these are the people who continue to grow and succeed.

If you’re a regular bike commuter, I suspect you have a distinct advantage in your social and economic life, in addition to better health. And whenever you ride, you’re a beacon to all the wandering souls behind glass panes, a reminder of the independence, resourcefulness, and work ethic that made this country great.

When it’s raining cats and dogs, especially in a place like Los Angeles where it rarely rains very hard for very long, the weather separates the heroes from the common folk. If you ride boldly and blatantly where others fear to tread, you’re forcing the world to wake up and take notice.

You have a choice to make. We’re on the cusp of human evolution, but it’s different this time. We’re not going to be naturally selected by a meteor or some other environmental catastrophe. We’re going to choose our own fate.

So get on your bike, especially when the storms are raging all around you.

You don’t realize it, but your bottom bracket holds the future of America, and maybe of all humanity.

If you’re commuting by bike and you live anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere, you’re going to ride your bike at night at some point. In my younger days (and even now, truth be told), I used to party with my bike and ride home.*

This is just to say I’ve bought and used a lot of bike lights over the years. I have my favorites, and I might make some recommendations in a future post. But for now, I’m frustrated by a problem that seems to happen across the board, with every kind of bike light I’ve ever used.

Usually the mounting wears out or breaks long before the light does. So you end up with a perfect light that you can’t attach to your bicycle.

Sure, you can always figure something out with bungi cords, rubber bands and duct tape, but all of those things lead to new problems later on. As a result, I have a drawer full of flashlights that are simply retired bike lights.

My latest solution is the head lamps that you find at camping stores. It’s bright, it automatically points wherever I look, but it’s uncomfortable and I feel like I’m cheating somehow. Plus, this doesn’t fill the need for a flashing rear light device.

I know there has to be a better way, and that’s where you come in.

If you like to tinker, and you could patent some kind of universal bike light mount, you may be in a business. If your device is simple, durable, and lightweight, you’re going to be a millionaire. If this sounds like you, please get on it! I won’t ask for any credit or compensation. I’ll be your first customer!

*Yes, I almost killed myself a few times while biking under the influence, but at least I wouldn’t have killed anybody else. Don’t ever try to drive, ride, or operate any vehicle–bike, motorcycle, steamroller, skateboard, pogo stick, burro, or jet ski–when your cognitive processes are compromised. If you’re going to abuse a substance, let it be coffee!

I noticed something interesting about my mom. When I was growing up she always had arthritis, tendonitis, and all kinds of aches and pains in her arms and shoulders.

That’s probably what you’d expect for a single mom with a job that involved hours of sitting and typing. At one point it got so bad that she had to install voice-activated software on her computer. But when she retired a couple of years ago she stumbled upon a cure for chronic pain.

Don’t worry, you don’t need to buy anything or click on a special link or change your religion. I’ll tell you exactly what happened, and how it relates to riding a bike.

About a million years ago when I did my first bike tour up the Pacific coast from Los Angeles to Santa Cruz, I tried to be Superman and I rode up the steep and rolling hills around San Luis Obispo in the highest gear I could handle. By the end of the day all the cartilage in my knees had turned to liquid. My bones ached and my kneecaps were floating in wet, floppy sacks the size of grapefruits.

Oh, to be young again! The next morning a part of me was thinking, “I sh0uld probably take it easy today” but mostly I just wanted to get on the road and keep moving. It hurt, but I was excited about being on the road.

A few miles up past the Hearst castle, I stopped on the beach and saw what looked like a big stack of driftwood-but it was moving. I got closer and realized it was a bunch of sea lions, all piled together and resting in the sand.

This was so exciting I laughed out loud–and then something happened that I can’t explain. It was like someone hit the deflate button in my knee joints. The swelling went away, as if the fluid was leaving through an invisible drain, and ten seconds later the soggy grapefruits had turned into tight, healthy knees.

For years after that, I had this theory that when you’re really happy and excited about something, then pain and injury become irrelevant–and vanish on their own.

This seems like my mom’s situation. Years of sitting in uncomfortable chairs, working her fingers on the keyboard, led to pain and suffering. But then something happened. She started knitting blankets and toys for her grandchildren.

Then when the economy tanked and took her retirement account with it, she went back to work like so many people are doing. She got a job in a shop that sells handmade gifts, and she started knitting hats and stuffed animals to sell in the shop as well.

My mom gets really creative with her knitting, and her stuff moved quickly. She got requests for more, and now she takes orders, sells at craft fairs, and basically–if you didn’t get this already–she’s spending most of her time sitting in a chair, working her fingers.

But she never complains about arthritis.

So how does this relate to biking? Well first of all, passion and joy and excitement are natural sources of vitality, energy and healing power.

This is why I suspect that riding on a bike trail, and best of all bike touring (or even just exploring your county for a day) will get you in much better shape than riding on a stationary bike in a gym. If bike commuting puts some fun and adventure into your day, going to work will be far less stressful.

In this blog, I’m always talking about getting around on your own power. But this goes a little bit deeper. By tapping into your emotional power, you can improve every aspect of your life.

It’s true I want to lead a kick-ass, life-changing bike tour next spring so I can charge money for the same service in the future. It’s true that I’m going to publish a guide-book with some of the best-kept secrets about bike touring in southern Italy.

But not everybody likes to read, and a lot of you probably won’t travel with me–whether it’s a schedule conflict or my smelly feet.

So here’s another option for you. I’ve put up the full route on a squidoo lens. You’ll get a basic outline of where I go, along with a few brief notes about some of the cool things to see and do while you’re biking the Appian Way. You can dig up the maps yourself, get some relevant books from Amazon, or even shoot me an email if you’ve got a legitimate question.

Here’s the link:

http://www.squidoo.com/bikeappia

By the way, if you’re not already familiar with Squidoo, you should check out my lens just to see what it’s all about. Pretty soon you’ll be posting your own pictures and stories of your bike rides and bike touring adventures. You might even make some money. (I’ve already got $1.40 in pending earnings. That’s almost enough to buy a cappuccino when I get to  Rome!)

If you’re reading this, some part of you wants to be stronger, faster, to travel, to be free. Don’t limit yourself. There’s more than one way to ride to Brindisi, and if that’s not where you want to be, you have as many challenges and adventures awaiting you as there are stars in the sky and dreams in your heart.