The Davis Enterprise: May 8, 2009

Davis Bicycles! column #16

Title: Odyssey of a new biker
Author: Marla Stuart

I consider myself a cycling impostor; I think I’m really a swimmer. When I started swimming to get in shape for a backpacking trip in Yosemite, my goal was to swim the equivalent miles of Davis to Yosemite Valley. I didn’t manage all those miles, but kept on swimming after the trip, logging my laps in a spreadsheet and tracking my progress with pushpins on a U.S. map.

All this was working fine — I’d gotten to Fort Bridger, Wyoming — when the athletic club announced a months-long pool closing. I considered my options. I would have to eat less, resign myself to weight gain or find some other activity to burn those calories.

For some time, I’d been feeling guilty about my carbon footprint, driving solo to work every day to Rancho Cordova. I had an inspiring friend who combined cycling with public transit for her commute, but the pool closure pushed me to action. I visited Davis bike shops for information, worked out the finances, and scouted out possible cycling routes. I identified the safest route that would allow me to bike part way and give me multiple points to bail out and take public transit.

I bought a bike and took about two or three weekends practicing getting the bike on and off Yolobus and light rail and biking sections of the route I’d scoped out by car. By late October I was ready to begin. The timing was fortuitous. I had anticipated sneers of derision or looks of pity for the fat old lady who should know better than to wear Spandex in public. My story? I was running a dress rehearsal of my Halloween cycling costume.

Serendipitously, a group of cyclists at work who had participated in Bike Month the previous May wanted to keep the momentum going (figuratively, at least, if not literally). They formed the Mercy Cycling Club with a mission to improve employee health, decrease air pollution, and reduce traffic congestion. The first club ride occurred in November 2007 and I was immediately hooked into a supportive network of cyclists.

For the first five months, I did a quarter of my commute by bike: I rode to the Davis Amtrak station in the morning, caught light rail in Sacramento and rode to the office from the nearest light rail stop. In the evening I rode from Rancho Cordova to downtown Sacramento and caught Yolobus home.

On the last Friday of March, I decided to try riding all the way home. Again fortune was with me. Although the skies looked threatening, I had rain gear with me. I mentally reviewed all the light rail and bus stops at which I could bail. The rain started just as I passed my first option and I got soaked, but then it let up and rained only intermittently. Each time I was approaching a bail-out point the rain stopped, so I kept pedaling to stay warm rather than sit, soaking wet, at a rail or bus stop.

By the time I reached the last bail-out point in West Sacramento, I noticed that traffic on the causeway was stopped dead. Better to keep pedaling, I thought, than to sit on Yolobus dripping. The width of my grin grew in direct proportion to the number of vehicles I passed on the causeway. What a great feeling to be able go faster than the cars and buses on I-80!

After that first door-to-door ride in the rain, I continued to take public transit to work and to ride all the way back home. I stayed motivated through April with the goal of exceeding my March total during “May Is Bike Month.”

Although the swimming pool had reopened by then, biking had hooked me. And Mercy Cycling Club had created a great incentive: 1,000 miles of bike commuting scores a free club jersey. I was determined to get one. On my way to earning the jersey, I converted my swim maps to cycling maps and added some enhancements to my spreadsheet. My log now calculates how many gallons of gas I haven’t burned, how much CO2 hasn’t been added to the atmosphere, and how many extra pounds I’m not carrying.

A status check after 18 months of bike commuting: I’m still fat, I’m even older, my virtual swim is stalled in Wyoming, and all the biking miles I’ve accumulated fall short of the leading cyclists’ miles in May alone. On the other hand, I’ve earned my 1,000-mile jersey; my relatives in the Midwest are convinced that bicycle mania has overtaken California and have reconsidered moving here; I feel smug and self-righteous over my reduced carbon footprint; and I sleep really well.

— Marla Stuart rode her first ever metric century last Sunday and has grown even more smug. Join Marla in our region’s Million Mile May campaign by logging your May miles at mayisbikemonth.com