I woke just before midnight to crackling thunder, flashes of lightning and teeming rain. The air freshened and filled with that earthy scent of organic matter – leaves, timber, grass, soil – enlivened by heavy rain and electrical charge. I drifted back to sleep but not before hoping the rain would ease by our 6am start. I was meeting another bike commuter to shadow his ride to work.
Hugh’s been reading ‘A Bike for All Seasons’ since early this year. After reading my post about Commuting to Work, Hugh invited me to join him on his regular work commute. I was thrilled with the opportunity. It turns out he lives in the next suburb and so after a couple of emails to agree a day, time and place, my next shadow commute was organised.
When I rode out at 5.30am, the rain had cleared, a few clouds lingered and the path was littered with debris. The most direct way to Hugh’s suburb from my place is via a forest path around Currumbin Hill. Last summer after a storm, a fallen gum tree blocked the trail and I had to carry my bicycle over its thick grey trunk. After the night’s storm, I wondered if I might meet something similar. And I did! It was only a small wattle tree but I had to half-wheel, half-carry my bike around it through long thick grass. Relieved there were no snakes hiding in the grass, I walked back to take a photo.
* * *
Hugh was waiting quietly by a gum tree on the corner, face to the early morning sunlight, ready for his regular commute. His Avanti hybrid bike with flat handlebars stood nearby looking in good condition considering it’s weathered 40,000 kms. Hugh, now 65, has been a bicycle commuter for seven years. He used to be a runner, a marathon runner, a soft sand specialist in fact. But as knees have a way of wearing, Hugh retired from running and began cycling. His daily commute between Tugun and South Tweed is 13.6 kms each way. So, during a week he rides about 130kms getting to and from work.
Through his daily commute by bicycle Hugh gets his quotient of regular exercise… and some. Not only does he achieve what is considered higher than the average person’s daily exercise, he also seems pleasantly relaxed. When I asked him about what challenges he faces as a regular bike commuter, he really had to think about it and replied:
“There are the usual problems with cars, punctures, winter cold and rain, but these days I see them more as the world passing, rather than problems.”
Hugh travels lightly both in mind and bike. On a rear rack, his bike carries a compact “trunk” packed with lunch, phone, wallet and clothes for the day as well as a spare tube and spanner for fixing a punctured tyre.
Most of Hugh’s commute can be ridden on pathways shared by pedestrians and cyclists. The exception is a busy stretch of road between Tugun and Bilinga where the completion of a 1.7km beachfront path would provide a popular and safer option.
As we ride along, we enjoy a pleasant chat, some splendid ocean views and mostly flat terrain. Occasionally Hugh exchanges a cheery good morning to regular runners and walkers who he’s met over the years. When we arrive at Hugh’s practice where he works as a GP, he wheels his bike through the reception area (not a popular choice on rainy days he says), down the hallway and parks it in a small room that doubles as a shower and change room. Morning commute complete.
I enjoy riding home along an alternative route recommended by Hugh. I pedal along in sparkling sunlight under skies cleared of dust and salt by the previous night’s storm and reflect on the ease that comes with regular bicycle commuting. Something that lingers in my mind from commuting with Hugh is the simplicity with which he designs each day: a bit of work, a bit of play (his commuting exercise fits in here) and a bit of rest.
Now that’s my sort of day!
Small tree blocking the pathway after the storm.
A splendid ocean view along Kirra Point that’s easily enjoyed while riding on a separated pathway.
Peak hour morning commute.
The NSW Coastline Cycleway begins as we cross the border into Tweed Heads.
Tweed River boats.
Crossing Terranora Creek.
Streetside bushland glistens as we ride by…
Wrong way go back: A quirky sign seen on the alternative route suggested by Hugh for my ride home… The sign is intended for cars but strangely positioned above the bikeway.
Aqua meets Aqua: Cycleway under M1 highway crossing Terranora Creek further upstream on my ride home.
The cycleway takes me on a circuit returning to the Terranora Creek bridge that Hugh and I rode earlier.
Sparkling sunlight under clear skies along the Tweed River. Some work, some play, some rest.
A personality test once described me as someone who might buy champagne even if the pantry needed filling. It was one of those corporate training programs to develop managers that emerged in the late 80s. Of course personality tests are disputable. They depict a slice of the person, not the whole. And for some tests, it depends on what context you draw your answers from. Am I the same at work as I am at home? Personality tests are not always right. On this point though, about the champagne and the pantry, it was.
But a decade later in the late 90s when I had what might be called an epiphany, to do more with less, things changed.
Cupboards were sorted. Garage sales become something of a fine art. Possessions thinned. Two houses became one. Two cars became one. And old patterns changed.
My experiment to travel by bicycle as much as possible is an extension of this decision. It’s about living more simply.
It’s about using our resources more wisely. Using less fuel. Saving money. Making the most of pedal power – an energy that gives more than it takes.
So how is it going?
I’ve just entered the final month of my year-long experiment to use my bicycle as much as possible. I don’t have exact statistics of how much I’ve saved but I can tell you this:
- Pre-experiment we’d fill our car with fuel about once a week; now we fill it up about once a month.
- In eleven months, I’ve ridden my bicycle over 3,437 kilometres with at least half being journeys I would have previously made by car. So I have saved by not buying fuel for approximately 1700kms.
- There are also savings from journeys that I once did by car without even thinking but now choose not to do at all (like that drive to the gelato shop every now and then…🍦🍦)
It’s clear to me that travelling by bicycle as much as I can in everyday life has definitely changed my choices about transport, activities and resources. With that, it’s saving me money. And I can safely say I’ve outsmarted that personality test 🙂
This post is the first post in a 5-story challenge. Gary, from PedalWORKS was kind enough to nominate me for this challenge because he’d like to learn how my year-long cycling experiment has changed me. It also responds to a request from HARDCOPY writer Serina of Ms Frugal Ears who’d like to learn how my year-long bicycle experiment is saving me money.
To keep the conversation going, I’m inviting you to leave a comment or write a blog post about how riding your bicycle has changed you or is saving you money. I’d love to read them! 🙂
Along Kirra Point, a shelter shed hugs the headland. It’s been there for years and forms part of the Coolangatta heritage walk. The day was sparkling with sunshine in a sky, blue and broad. I’d stopped at the shelter shed – with its high pitched roof, timber slatted gable and verandah railings painted in the familiar Federation colours of yellowy cream, burgundy and white – to take some photos.
I was just about to leave when a man looked into the shelter from the adjoining footpath and asked if I was touring. My Vivente is a touring bike so it’s a question I’m often asked. And that’s how I met Barry, learned about his bike and a week later went for a long chat and a short ride.
You see Barry’s is no ordinary bike. It’s a trike. More accurately a recumbent trike, with an electric motor.
Recumbents situate the rider quite differently to a conventional bicycle. Instead of an upright position where riders push their legs up and down, recumbents seat the rider in a reclining position with the rider’s legs extending in front. This means the recumbent rider is usually much closer to the ground and if you’ve seen one, they typically have a fine flagpole flying a small orange flag to make sure they’re seen.
I’ve only seen a few recumbents and each time, I’ve wondered at their safety, given the lower seating position and the need to rely on mirrors for rear vision. However, seeing my touring bike parked next to Barry’s recumbent trike, I can clearly see the trike would have a bigger presence on the road.
The stability of the tricycle is the feature that sold Barry on this type of cycling. Barry began sailing in his late forties and after 10 years of being on the water, he decided to pull in the sails. While travelling in a campervan around Tasmania, he met a Dutchman who was bicycle touring, had travelled all around Australia by bike and was 66 years old.
This sparked Barry’s interest. As a sailor, he liked the challenge, the navigation and the adventure. Meeting the Dutchman, he realised bike touring had all those things. So, seven years ago at age 58, he bought a touring bike and went cycling – to Japan, North Queensland, Central Australia, Victoria, and to Tibet for a charity fundraiser. He found joys in riding his bicycle akin to sailing. One of them is peacefulness. I asked him to explain this:
“You know when you’re riding downhill and the wind is rushing past your head, it’s noisy. But when you reach the bottom of the hill, there’s silence… it’s peaceful.”
Unfortunately, Barry had a fall on some rough terrain in North Queensland and broke his hip. He returned to cycling but the appeal of the stable recumbent trike was obvious. Touring on the trike feels safer.
It means a slower trip at about 12-14km/hr with a touring load (previously he travelled 15-20km/hr depending on the terrain). But now, with a recently installed electric motor, Barry’s trike will move him along at 25km/hr with very little effort. (Check out the short video at the end of this story to see the acceleration.) He says it’ll help him outride any chasing dogs too!
A recumbent bike might mean reclining but it certainly doesn’t mean resting. Barry said people used to ask him if he was scared when at sea and now they ask him the same about cycling. To him, being fearful doesn’t bring you a good life. In his words:
Fear stops you doing things. You have to take some risk.
Here’s a short video (56 secs) showing Barry’s recumbent trike in action.
Barry demonstrates how the electric assist allows him to stop pedalling and keep moving along. When he changes the setting, watch how the trike takes off! It’s amazing!
The Kirra Point shelter shed.
Contrasting height of recumbent with upright bike.
Red panniers at the back for touring. Red tail lights to draw attention and Barry also wears a high-vis shirt.
Side mirrors used for rear vision.
Clip-in shoes are recommended to prevent the foot slipping from the pedal.
Tech spec: Barry’s Recumbent Tricycle is made by ICE: Inspired Cycle Engineering.
a bike for all seasons 