Busted Knuckles

So now I have had the truck for ... 2 months, somehow it seems like longer.  I have puttered about and completed quite a few 'short jobs' such as
replacing mirrors,
installing new locks for both doors, glovebox and ignition that all have the same key,
new tubing for the driver's side defroster vent,
seatbelts,
new retention chains for tailgate,
retention bolt and cables for a child seat,
de-rusted and painted the inside rear view mirror,
new spark plug wires and coil,
attach diamond plate truck box behind the cab

etc.

I have also installed new shocks which I probably should have waited to do because if I drop the truck I have to replace the new shocks BUT the ride was so completely terrible that I had to do something, now the ride is well ... trucklike but comfy and firm, before it was sloppy, loose and downright dangerous.  So.  The rear shocks are air adjustable and come with pneumatic line that I ran right to the rear bumper so changing pressure is as easy as attaching a bike pump to the Shrader valve right on the bumper.

The big job was replacement of the wooden bed floor which my nephew from NJ and I started while he was visiting in December.  He got a case of the lonely's and left early (first girlfriend texting him constantly and he texting back made conversation a little distracted).  That job took maybe four to five full days.  If I had to do it again I could do it faster but the first time was the typical 'can of worms' that snowballed the completion time.  Painting in December when the temperature was in the 40-50's was a challenge and we had to cure it inside the house which was stinky but worked (Erin was not here).  I made some mistakes and the finish is functional but still attractive: yellow pine stained with Penofin deck stain x 2 coats with Rust-oleum forest green steel strips.  Lots of Loc-Tite and time spent lying on a cold concrete slab with a ratchet and I finally got it done.  Turns out that the bed was designed to be bolted to the truck frame with TEN grade 8 bolts.  When we got the bed apart there were FOUR loose bolts of unknown quality holding the bed to the frame, no wonder the rear was like spaghetti: between the blown shocks and the lack of any torsional resistance from the bed the back end was loosey goosey.  After I got the finished bed bolted to the frame with larger than necessary grade 8 hardware the ride was much improved BEFORE I replaced the shocks.

I have another week in March when Erin and Gracie are going to be away and I am trying to line up an appropriate project.  The thing is that while I have the time to do some of the other 'medium jobs' I am balking at the cost.  A disc brake conversion kit that includes drop spindles, rotors, various hardware, new dual chamber master cylinder and lines, drop shocks and springs, etc. for both front and rear is $1500!! OMFG.  This all has to happen but ... I think that I am going to wait as the suspension and brakes work just fine now.  I know next to nothing about bodywork and I don't like working with paints, solvents and fillers as they make me sick but there is lots of this that needs to happen.  I think the next 'medium job' will be to pull the seat and de-rust the interior of the cab, paint the floor, rewire the gas tank sender while I am under the step-sills and then install Hush-Mat everywhere I can reach and then new jute mat under a new floor mat.  The cab sounds like what it is: a metal box.  The dash is steel, the doors are undamped and sound like a big can when you shut them, lots of room for improvement and it won't cost me 2/3 what I paid for the truck to do it.  I know this is all riveting stuff.

Last bit; I have admit that I LOVE working on this old truck.  So far I haven't really done anything that involved but I don't have a garage either so ... I was kinda sucking wind this winter: really feeling low and bored and without purpose (Gracie is great and I am enjoying her gobs but you know what I mean ...) So tinkering with the truck is oddly very satisfying for me and between getting back into Olympic weightlifting in the gym and the truck I am feeling pretty good.  So the reward here is really a sense of bootstrapping myself out of a funk and the satisfaction that I did not make a mistake and buy a project that I have no interest in working on.  When I drove the truck back from Washington State I drove very deliberately at 45-55 mph for 1600 miles.  There is no radio, there is no clock, there is no keyed remote in fact the doors didn't lock, there are no gauges except for fuel and speedo and idiot lights, there is no cruise control, the seats do not adjust, there is no air conditioning, there is no windshield washer fluid: just wipers, there are sum total SIX knobs on the dash: headlights, wipers, choke, cigarette lighter, heater fan lever, defrost ducting lever, that is it.  My long winded point is that driving this thing is a very deliberate experience and in the words of my good friend Geoff "almost mindful."  The thing I really appreciate about driving this truck is that it isn't easy.  It is not hard either but it is not a turn key, velvet smooth, light shifting, vehicle.  The clutch isn't a hard push but it's not like shifting a Honda Accord with a standard either.  When the transmission is fully warmed up shifting from 3rd to 4th requires a even hand and sometimes double clutching.  When this truck was released in 1963 it was the most advanced design yet for Chevy.  It had independent front suspension, trailing arm rear suspension, coil springs instead of leaf springs, the fleetside longbed was only 4 years old as an option, the bed on this truck is HUGE.  BUT~! Compared to todays pickup trucks this truck is a dinosaur.  Like I said 'It isn't easy" It makes you pay attention, think about what you are doing, I feel involved when I am driving this truck.  I have to think ahead and plan my strategy (especially in Albuquerque traffic).  I cannot afford to daydream, drift into that state of distracted, on the phone while eating gummi bears and listening to music consciousness that half the world seems to attain while driving.  I know this doesn't make sense to many (including my sweety Erin) but modern, everyday cars are too easy, we take them for granted, we take the responsibility of driving them for granted, we treat driving like a right not a privilege. We are warm and safe inside a hermetically sealed bubble of temperature and humidity controlled splendor smiling and shiny behind our crush zone and air bags atop a heated seat that adjusts in six directions and saves our personal setting.  Don't get me wrong, the art of conveyance has reached an almost ludicrously refined state here in the USA.  I am here to tell you that somehow I have missed the point.  I HATE new cars.

 I owned two Honda Elements and I have no pithy criticism, they are exceedingly well designed, well manufactured cars with excellent resale value. I bought them knowing what I wanted and I got it and then some. I hated them. I have no logical reason.  But will some one spend months looking for just the right used Honda Element 46 years from now?  I think not.

98844 to 87106

Novermber 7th, 2009 I flew to Spokane WA, where Vivane Harper of Oroville WA picked me up at the airport.  Viviane was sweet as pie, short with very old knees making it difficult for her to walk easily.  Viviane is the the truck's previous owner's ex wife and she was in Spokane visiting grandkids and going on a blind date.  We had a great time on our 3 hour ride back to Oroville during which Viviane entertained me with theories of Earth's eroding magnetosphere and the impending stop of earth's rotation as a result.  She also had some very interesting things say about rocks from outer space and lots of other stuff that made more sense to me than magnetospheres and space rocks. On our way back to Oroville we drove past the Grand Coulee Dam and through a forest fire on both sides of the road.  I am assuming that is was a controlled burn but one never knows.  Very smokey and odd.

Left is a picture of me sitting in the truck for the first time which Viviane very sweetly took after dropping me off. You can almost tell from my expression that I am gleeful 'Ha ha ha! Finally.' Oroville WA is where I finally met the truck.  I tried to get it shipped via car carrier but it was so far off the beaten path that noone wanted to take the job.  Two truckers did and then canceled once they figured out where it was.  It was pretty frustrating seeing I bought it in September and did not get to see it until November 7th.  So here I am sitting in it for the first time hoping it starts: it did.  Very interesting driving it for the first time.  This is just what I expected and NOT your Subaru Legacy with a standard.  It grunts and wheezes, snorts and whistles, farts and groans but it is a pretty simple machine and in spite of all the noise it is very satisying to drive.  The seat is not stock and was reputedly installed so seatbelts could retrofitted to the cab.  When I asked Bob if it had seatbelts he said it did.  Well he wasn't lying but they were under the seat and in the bed in respective heaps.  Later my sister and I tried to mount them and discovered why they had not been installed; fairly major modification of the cab would be required to mount the shoulder belt.  I threw them away and ordered lap belts.  Someday the seat will go too.


Oroville is US terminus of the Okanagan River Valley.  Any further north and you are in Canada.  Nice little town but I think it is much like many 'edge' towns in the US.  Key West, El Paso, all of Alaska etc., places that are as far as you can go and still be in the US.  They seem to collect a certain type of 'almost expatriot' who generally wants to be left alone and resents government, rules, taxes and the like.

So, I stayed the night with Bob: the previous owner and discovered that less is more when it comes to quality time with Bob.  What a disagreeable man.  Smokes too much, drinks too much and complains vociferously.  After 12 hours most of which was spent asleep in his basement I had had enough.  I was ready to head south to warmer weather and friendlier faces.

So let it be known that I took some pictures on this trip but I did not stop and take pictures every time I 'should' have.  I gaped at some amazing views and just kept right on driving.  It is also easy to understand why I took so many pictures that include the truck.  I just got it after waiting two month, so sue me.  So, to make up for the ... gaps in my pictures I have used a great resource and website called Panoramio.  I found pictures of almost every place that I had been to support my pictures on this horrid little chronicle.  Bear in mind that I drove from WA to NM in November so any picture that looks out of season probably IS and good on you for catching it. Also all of these pictures can be scrutinized by clicking on the photo and then zooming additionally if you really want to see details.

Finally headed south!  97 South to Riverside where I stopped at Home Depot and bought some 'old truck road trip' essentials: tools, lubricants, gas can, etc. The kind of stuff that you hope you don't need but you know what they say about chance favoring the prepared. At first I was driving alongside the Okanago River which like all other rivers in this area empties into the Columbia River.  To the right is Orondo WA. and I was graced with good weather and good health and kept driving south.

To the left is Brewster WA which as you can plainly see is a beautiful place.  In fact the whole area is incredible.  Along the way I got to see why most big chain supermarket apples  are from Washington State. Orchards are everywhere.


We have orchards in Vermont and New York and New Hampshire but not this many.  The landscape is much starker, bigger and magnificent than Back East. The scale is orders larger.  Nothing beats the east for GREEN but the brush used to paint this country was HUGE.

Have you ever had to work inside a small room, a room that feels close? Remember the feeling of leaving that room and walking outside into a bright, clear day with a high blue sky? That expansive, open, empty feeling.  An overhead camera focused on the hat on your head zooming back and back and back until you disappear into the combination of colors and hues that comprise this huge land.  There just aren't that many people per square mile in this part of the country and most of them like it that way. It is a good feeling being out in the middle of the great, wide, open.

When you have just adjusted to the scale of things.  When the Okanaga River Valley is beginning to feel homey you come to the Columbia River Valley and you have to start all over.  There is no fording this river.  The Columbia is absolutely HUGE.  There is nothing in the East like this, nothing.  Wow.

Perhaps you begin to see why I didn't stop to take pictures. It felt like a hopeless attempt at capturing what it was like.  Like eating Taco Bell and thinking that now, at last, you have had good Mexican food.  Think again.  What I remember most about the Columbia is this deeply quiet essence of power.

After a few hours of driving through this sort of ridiculous grandeur, this majesty on steroids I started to get a little complacent about it.  No more exclamations or slowing down, no more wonder and awe. 'Yeah, nice river, I need a Coke!'  My normally well stocked box of 'Ooohs and Aaaahs' was down to the occasional 'hrrrmph'.  I had a lactic acid burn in my exclamator muscle.  Enough, already.

To the left is the Martha Inn.  Strange name for an Inn?  Perhaps but not so strange if it is located in George WA. Too funny.  Free wooden choppers at the restaurant.   (not funny, sorry)

All the while I am learning to drive this old thing and keeping my fingers crossed that chance WILL actually favor the prepared today.  The truck starts every time, shifts fine, stops fine, the only thing that I really had to watch was the suspension and that is just plain old worn out.  Nothing wrong with it that wouldn't hold until NM.  Somewhere along the way the rear right hub cap has spun off into never never land but the it is just a cover and these wheels are looking a bit rough anyway.  Not the first or second thing on my list but they will eventually be replaced.

Southern Washington state flattens out and I talk to my friend Richard in Portland Oregon trying to arrange a rendezvous.  We make a plan and then he texts me that he totally forgot he has jury duty.  Hmm. Sure.  I keep going and by days end it is dark and I am bushed and I look for a good place to pull off and sleep a few hours.  I find a good place in the future site of a housing development that is just dirt road.  Windy, cold and starry I curl up in the voluminous bed and get some sleep.

Oregon beckons and I am very near I84 southeast to Boise.  Almost immediately the road climbs off the Oregon plain and up into the mountains.  Speed limit on the interstate was 35mph due to the tight radius curves.  'Snow chains required in storms' states the sign.  I cross my fingers and keep the boiler stoked.  What a crazy road! It winds down into a tight, winding canyon with dirt exits to both defunct and operating mines.  The only way in or out is on the road.  You would need climbing gear to ascend the steep walls.

I drive and the country opens up and flattens out and feels emptier than Washington did. Logging trucks and old, abandoned farmhouses dot the countryside. I stop for breakfast in North Powder, Oregon and have biscuits and gravy.  A more substantial gut bomb I have never eaten. White flour biscuits under a veritable sea of more white sausage gravy that was more white than sausage.  I couldn't finish and thought I would never need to eat again.  I think I heard a seat spring let go when I hauled my ass back into the truck seat.  

Getting Started

Well, the truck is here.  I plan to write a section on YouMeandGPLB (I changed the name of the blog BTW) on the trip from Oroville Wa. to Albuquerque NM but this one will be short and sweet.  I have ordered a bunch of stuff for the truck: new wood for the bed, hardware to install it, seatbelts, gas tank, locking gas cap, etc.  I have also been poking around in and around the truck trying to prioritize what I should work on first.  The usual kind of stuff for a vehicle that runs but basically needs lots of love.

Imitation is the finest form of admiration.

So I have gone and done it.  What you say?  What?  I have stepped off the cliff.  I have 'thrown caution to the wind', I have damned the torpedoes, I have resisted the urge to be 'reasonable', I have ignored advice to be practical.  I have done something that always elicited the response from me 'That is too cool, I want to do that someday' when someone ELSE did it.  Now I have done it. What have I done?  After all that it ought to be good eh?  

I bought a 1963 C10 Fleetside Longbed 3/4 ton pickup truck with a 4-speed SM 420 tranmission and a straight six 292 cubic inch motor.  (what a mouthful)

The only follower of this silly blog: Charlie Whitney bought a Triumph Spitfire a while ago.  When he did I remember thinking just what mentioned thinking 'That is too cool, I want to do that someday.'  Since then I have lost track of the project but regardless I am sure it still fits into 'cool', after all it is Charlie.  

Well, sportscars and motorcycles ... get me in trouble.  I am sticking to mountain bikes and sea kayaks for the full gonzo 'full throttle' behavior that tends to get me in trouble.  My longtime erstwhile friend Lynn Coates had a truck much like this one in the 1980's when I was twenty-something and I loved that truck.  It was black and white and she towed a matching black and white horse trailer to all the Events that she competed in and we all tagged along on motorcycles to applaud, support and travel New England.  Since then I have developed the opinion that all the new American built trucks are just silly.  They are outrageously expensive, all the 4WD models are about a foot too high off the tarmac and they have all lost the honest work ethic design that made the pickup truck what it isn't today.  Why do I need a full size pickup that is ostensibly meant for work to have a bed so high that the manufacturer offers as an option a step and handrail on the tailgate just to get in the bed?  Why?  I will tell you why; Because most pickups are no longer really utility vehicles anymore.  They are marketed and purchased as lifestyle accoutrements.  Pickups these days are like bodybuilders.  Big and muscular and totally focused on looking like they are strong and hard working.  Except the focus has moved from hard work and getting the job done to LOOKING the part.  In a word: Posers.  I am not saying that everyone that buys a truck these days is a poser and that pickup trucks aren't any good for work.  They aren't all posers driving posers.  BUT most of the pickups on the road are daily drivers for guys that don't WORK for a living.  They could get along just as well with a conservative sedan for the use they give the truck.  Like I said: accoutrement.  Put another way: penis extension.  A reflection of what a MAN should drive.  "The Heartbeat of America", "Built Ford Tough", Dodge Ram "Big Horn Edition".  Current day pickup trucks are like cartoons.  

So why did I buy one?  Well ... here is the thing.  I am a guy, an American guy.  I am a lot of other things too including iconoclastic, contrary and independent to a fault.  I love pickup trucks but I can't stand pretense and the new trucks and most of the people who drive them are full of pretense.  Old pickup trucks were heavy, slow and low and they were not a socially popular vehicle to drive, they were an essential on farms and many other places but no one drove one that didn't need one.  They were too hick.  Things changed and more and more people worked jobs that were not physical.  In fact the real money was in a job where you didn't 'work'.  After a few generations chasing the American Dream and realizing that it wasn't a Dream the popular mind of the populous began to romanticize the ethos of the pickup truck.  That is when the shift from truly mundane bucolic utility vehicle to chest thumping, musclebound poser vehicle began.  I had a pickup truck: a nice 1996 Ford Ranger.  That was a great truck.  Nothing fancy, got the job done.  I used it for what it was good for: moving big stuff from here to there.  I used it a lot.  I felt justified in owning it because I used it where no other type of vehicle would do.  Well, I sold that vehicle, I wish I hadn't but I did.  

Now I drive a Honda Element.  I call it my Manivan.  Practical?  Sure.  Like you read about.  But it lacks something.  As cool as it is it is low on ... vehicular soul.  Not as low as a minivan but low. It does everything I want it to do.  Why then?  Why?  

I can't sit on the hood.  Shit I can't even lean on it.  I plowed into a snowbank in my first Element and the pressure on the front end pushed the hood up just the tiniest little bit in one place.  Well I thought I might be able to just push it back, so I put my thumb on the spot and pushed down ... much to my dismay I dimpled the hood right where I pushed with my thumb.  The metal in the hood is so thin that it will permanently deflect from the pressure of a thumb.  For Pete's Sake!!  I can sit on the hood of the C10, all 225 pounds of me without effect.  

Why? I like bench seats.  Pickup trucks are not available with bench seats anymore.  The best you can do is what is called a 60/40 split seat.  I don't like bucket seats.  Mostly because the size of my 'bucket' is not the size of your bucket and I invariably feel a bit cramped in the 'one size fits all' bucket seats of today.  I like that the old school bench seats weren't sculpted or shaped to fit tops and bottoms.  They were flat and smooth and went all the way across.  You could sit right next to someone or ... not.  

Why? The bed floor is nice and low.  Pickup trucks are thusly named for their utility in ... (stay with me now) picking things up.  Which is to say that their ostensible primary purpose was to facilitate putting things large and small in the back.  You know this, I know this.  The higher the bed floor is from the ground (that you and I are standing on) the more difficult it is to put something in the truck.  Imagine that you are carrying something heavy: a transmission.  If you were strong enough to carry a transmission all on your lonesome you would certainly be doing it with straight arms using the larger stronger muscles in your back to do the work.  So putting the transmission in the bed of a truck might be possible if the bed was roughly at the height of your hands with arms at your sides.  Next time you are near a current Ford, Chevy, GMC or Dodge full size truck check the height of the bed.  Dollars to donuts it is not at hand level.  My new 'old' truck has a nice low bed.  

Why?  (this is the last one I promise)  I like the way it looks.  There are some pretty bold looking new trucks: like the Dodge Ram but they all look like they are trying too hard.  Like bodybuilders.  Actually I like the look of many of the older trucks but my favorite is the '60-66', first generation C10 (actually it is the second generation as Chevy made the first generation for one year: 1960)  

So in the spirit of my friend Charlie: an inspirational person, I have begun the journey.  Thanks Charlie.  

The first step is to get the truck here.  It is 1500 miles north in Oroville WA.  I will keep you posted.  

Albuquerque NM

Well here we are. It has been three months since I posted anything at all but we have been busy. Vermont to Albuquerque NM. Big changes in geography and climate. 300 + days of sunshine here and the days that aren't sunny by their standards are by mine Back East. It is even sunny when it rains here. Clothes dry on the clothesline about as fast as it takes to hang out a full load so you can almost finish hanging at one end and go back to where you started and start taking them off again. Of course Albuquerque is an enclave of green in the high desert provided by the Rio Grande. Go to far in any direction (especially south) and it gets dry like you read about. This country was notoriously difficult to cross before the railroad and the advent of paved roads and internal combustion. Between the natives and the environment a white man would be hard pressed to survive here for long. When I was in Death Valley years back there was a big picture of some famous party crossing Death Valley complete with tattered Conestoga wagon etc. These poor souls eventually became so thirsty and hungry that they resorted to cannibalism to survive like the Donner Party. In the painting there are natives lying down behind a small ridge watching the party traveling across the floor of the valley. Natives who knew how to survive in the valley, natives who knew where the fresh water springs were. I always wanted to go back and pen in what the natives might have been saying to each other like Mystery Theater 2000: "They are looking mighty dry eh?"

So I have been here a week and have ridden my bike in the city a bit and am pleased to say that Albuquerque is doing a fair job making the city bike friendly. As usual the folks that drive in the city aren't always in possession of a clue about cyclists but at least there is a terminal mass of cyclists andthe motorists are used to seeing them. There are bike lanes, and bike routes and even a bike boulevard (albeit on just one street). There is a published map showing all aforementioned bikeways and various published books on both roadbiking and mountain biking routes and trails. I have had two pretty amazing mountain bike rides on canyon singletrack that was GOBS of fun. It is a great city to have various bikes in your quiver so I am glad that I brought all of my bikes in spite of the space that they took up in the truck.

Winter Cycling

Question: Am I insane, stupid, addled, strange, odd, 'tetched'? Every time ... let me stress EVERY time I tell people that I ride my bike to get around in the winter in Vermont I get some pretty strange looks. Even if the person knows that I ride a bike in the winter they often look at me like they can't quite believe I really, REALLY ride a bike in the winter. My contention is this: that I am normal and there is nothing at all wrong or indicative of any sort of deficiency with riding a bicycle when there is snow on the ground. I choose to do it in the land of internal combustion. I own two vehicles that burn gasoline: a car and a motorcycle and I would rather ride a bicycle if I can. Further I contend that in general this country is soft and spoiled and lazy. Owning a car is a luxury. We don't treat it as such but it is. We spend way too much money on buying, fueling, insuring, and maintaining our vehicles. 100 years ago EVERYONE rode bicycles or walked or took the train. What happened? The cultural expectation that EVERY person should own/drive a car as primary mode of transportation has done us all as much harm as good. You want to really feel independent? SELL your car. You will save thousands of dollars every year but we all know that for most this is not about money but the personal sense of freedom a cars can give you. Noone walks anymore, even people with good, young legs drive a 1/4 mile to buy snacks at the convenience store. I commute through a college campus and watch students drive to the store just off campus that is within sight of their dorms. I am not that old but when I was at UVM (a school where most of the students have a huge sense of entitlement now) I walked everywhere, I hitched and rode my bicycle before I was a bike nut. What happened to enjoying the journey?

AHA! You exclaim. "I have you! : What does Winter Cycling have to do with enjoying the journey?" I am sure you have seen the short cartoon at the top. It is classic because like Bugs Bunny it is funny to more than one sense of humor for different reasons. When I read it I agree with the final statement:"And Miss This?" without any sense of irony. I enjoy riding my bike in the winter. That's right. I LIKE IT. But the cartoon is funny to most of us because so few people can believe that WE LIKE IT, therefore the final statement "And Miss This?" comes off at least ironic and possibly sarcastic.

I like riding my bike when it is snowing like hell and cold and icy. Erin, my sweety, secretly thinks I am a nutjob. At every opportunity she offers me a ride to/from work as though somehow I own a car. As though one of these days I will suddenly come to my senses and realize 'Oh my God! It is winter. What the hell am I riding my bike for?' I always say the same thing. 'Erin, if I wanted to drive I would.' She just doesn't get it. Not that I really need her to.

In Europe owning a car is treated as a luxury. Most people do not own cars. Most people do ride bicycles and walk and take public transportation. Of course Europe supports this sort of behavior with a vastly superior public transportation system than we have in the US, bike lanes, bike parking etc. but in Europe riding a bicycle is so integral to getting around that while most people ride their bikes in winter they would not be considered 'bike nuts' by their peers. They just ride a commuter bike, kinda like sensible shoes. Japan is the same, in fact in many cases bikes aren't even locked in Japan. In the US I am treated like a weirdo and a sort of extremist if I commute by bike IN ANY SEASON, especially in winter. In Europe I would be one of thousands in any city were I to commute by bike in the winter. Everyone does it.

I have to admit that sometimes I get an iconoclastic rush from putting my bike skills to work just to get to work during a snowstorm. I wouldn't do it if being labeled weird really bothered me. That said I would love to see the US change just a little in it's cultural perspective on cars and bicycles. I understand that most people don't like riding a bicycle in the winter and still wouldn't even if it was more 'normal' accepted practice here. I am willing to be 'that guy' who rides all the time. I would love to have some company out there. Popular opinion holds that if you are riding a bike in the winter you must have lost your license etc. The same is true for using the bus in Chittenden County, noone with a car takes the bus!! This unfortunate perspective perpetuates because many people who might take the bus DO NOT because they don't want to deal with the people they imagine are on it: homeless, punks, poor, and criminal types etc. Sigh.

Then there are the drivers ... I am a driver. When I am on a bicycle and am forced to use a major thoroughfare for lack of a realistic alternative I am consistently amazed at how many people just act as though cyclists just have no right to be on the road at all. Not very many people say anything (they would have to roll down the window and get a blast of cold air) but I can tell from the way they drive that for many the only thing keeping them from just dinging me into the ditch is fear of legal reprisal. They pass way too close, beep horns, creep forward behind me as though to nudge me into the intersection or (this is the worst) fail to see me. My family, my working cohorts all voice concerns for my safety knowing I ride on the same streets that they drive on. Doesn't this speak to something deeper? They know it is an unfriendly environment for anyone trying to make their way on foot or bicycle. Sad.

When the latest gas crunch hit and prices topped $4/gallon I was secretly happy about it. Of course the prices came back down and everyone went back to their normal driving routines. The only thing that is going to change the behavior of the vast American driving public is an economic pinch. For folks to stop using a car to get them where they need to go it has got to become financially painful to use a car. Bottom Line. Advertising and friendly cycling ambassadors have a small effect but the real motivator is money. That day is coming. We must find a way to get around that does not involve the internal combustion motor using refined petroleum as fuel. That is clear. What is not clear is will the American public start seeing the advantages to bikes and feet or will they just trade petroleum for another fuel source?