Tom Ezell commutes to work on his bicycle, but he doesn’t ride from home.
He would if he wanted to. A cycling-safety instructor certified by the League of American Bicyclists, Ezell’s not shy around cars. He teaches traffic classes for bicycle riders, and on the first Wednesday of most months he helps guide the Critical Manners ride through downtown Little Rock.
In fact, he prefers to bike when he has to go downtown.
But he doesn’t prefer what feels like aggressive morning traffic on the shoulderless two-lane highway near his home in Lonoke County. If he had to face that hazardous-feeling highway every day, he’d never pedal to work.
“So what I do is drive down to park on the North Little Rock riverfront and then ride my bike on the River Trail to where I work at the Arkansas Department of Environmental Quality in North Shore Park,” he says. “I’ll ride back in the afternoon and pick up the truck, go home.” Simply by realizing that he doesn’t have to start pedaling at his front door, Ezell has hurdled a barrier that looms large for many would-be bicycle commuters: scary traffic. He has found what bike seller Bruce Thalheimer calls “the sweet spot” along his daily route, the point at which “the when, the where and the how” come together so “I can’t” becomes “I could.” Driving to the place where he can take advantage of an urban trail, Ezell avoids traffic. Other commuter cyclists use the same little trick to avoid another local obstacle: hills.
“I hate to say it, because we’re in the business of selling high-end bikes when we can, but it isn’t about the bike,” says Thalheimer, whose commuter-cycling daughter has been nagging him to use the Chainwheel bike shop as a bully pulpit to promote the practice in central Arkansas. “You can get a Wal-Mart bike and you can commute. It’s really about the route.” Finding the sweet spot requires would-be commuters to stop and study obstacles they assume are in their way, and to figure out where the problem begins and ends.
“People don’t think about it like that,” says Sam Williamson, owner of The Community Bicyclist shop in Little Rock. “I hear so many people come in here and say, ‘There’s just no way I could [commute ] because I have to get on Cantrell Road or Markham Street or whatever.’ But you could just bypass that part with your car and then park and do whatever portion you could on your bike.” Valid fear of traffic prevents many, even avid, cyclists from commuting on two wheels.
For instance, David Holsted, an athlete who has been leading weekly distance-training sessions for the forthcoming CARTI Tour de Rock, hesitates before wheeling in among the stream of cars near his office off busy Shackleford Road in west Little Rock.
“Early in the morning it’s great,” he says. “It’s easy and it’s wonderful — no traffic. But 5 o’clock in the afternoon, coming from west Little Rock, it’s very difficult.” Holsted’s also figured out a “sweet spot” way to work around traffic, which we’ll get to in a minute. First, though, why bother ?
Three words, says Russell Werdehausen, a software engineer who routinely rides his bike home from Little Rock Air Force Base: “Gas, exercise, boredom.” Gas: Ezell says that even though he still uses his car every day, what he calls his “hybrid commute” saves him a respectable amount of gas money.
By auto, his commute would be 26. 7 miles one-way. When he also bikes, he drives only 12. 5 miles one way.
Instead of driving 267 miles a week, when he bikes daily he drives only 125 miles a week. If his truck got 20 miles to the gallon (it doesn’t, but keep the math easy ), every week he’d need to buy 7. 1 fewer gallons of gas. At $ 3. 80 a gallon, he’d save $ 26. 98 a week. Multiply that by 50 weeks (two off for vacation ), and he could save $ 1, 349 a year — if these were all exact numbers, which they aren’t, and he biked daily, which he doesn’t.
And he isn’t forking over $ 30 a month for parking, either.
But he does leave his vehicle in a park, and “one thing you do have to worry about is those who’d rather make their living off someone else than make an honest living,” he says. So yes, he has a locking gas cap. And no, he doesn’t leave anything of value inside his truck. And yes, every afternoon he checks to ensure that his license plate hasn’t been stolen. Exercise: “I ride about 100 miles a week,” Ezell says.
Diane McConnell, a computer programmer for Veterans Affairs in North Little Rock, works within reach of the Arkansas River Trail. Her route from west Little Rock looks like a piece of cake — on paper.
In practice, she faces two terrible hills. She hauls herself up to Fort Roots in the morning and then she cranks up Overlook Road in the afternoon. “But it’s exercise, even if I get off and walk. It’s 10. 3 miles one way,” she says. Boredom: Becky Green of Maumelle also uses the River Trail as a connector route to her job in downtown North Little Rock. At first she was anxious about traveling on Maumelle Boulevard, but the fact that there’s a protected crossing on the overpass across Interstate 430 just for bicycles and pedestrians gives her a validating thrill. She starts her day immersed in beauty: “I love it,” she says. “You’re outside. It’s pretty. You hear the birds sing, the sun is shining. The river is just gorgeous. It sets your day, I think.” ALTERNATIVE WHEELS Back to David Holsted’s situation. When he does feel determined to bike to his job along one of west Little Rock’s busiest arteries, he pedals in the early morning while traffic is calm. And then in the afternoon, “I throw the bike up on the bus and ride it down to the bus station, and then I can get off there and make it to the house, no problem,” he says.
James Terbach, who works at Acxiom in downtown Little Rock, reverses that pattern. He puts his bike on the bus in the morning and bikes home from work in the afternoon — 16 miles.
“I do this twice a week,” he says. “The bus is great. It’s super easy, it’s super convenient. The bus stop is right by my home, two blocks away. Other people, if they live a couple of miles from the bus stop, they could bike to the bus stop.” And he doesn’t have to mess about with cleaning up for work.
Werdehausen also rides his bike home from the airbase, but he uses his car to get there. “Throw the bike in the trunk of my car in the morning. Leave the car at work, ride home, next morning catch a ride to work,” he says.
SWEETNESS Permission: McConnell found her sweet spot by giving herself permission — to take her time on the hills, to ride only once a week if that’s all she feels like doing, to stay home in bad weather. And “I’m pretty proud of being a commuter,” she says. There are no rules that say a commuter must start at home and must push hard to his destination. And “to me bicycle commuting doesn’t have to just mean riding to work,” Williamson says. “A bike is great for a trip to the post office, to the grocery store, to the bank, etc.” You don’t have to be that champion who pedals or walks absolutely everywhere, that... Heather Jackson.
Thalheimer met Jackson when she walked into his store, from her house. She’d lost her ride to work. After several days of hiking six miles to her job in west Little Rock and six miles home, “I was going to get a moped or a car, but the way the economy’s going, I just want to save money,” she says. “I could pay the same amount for a bike, save money that I would pay on gas and I won’t have insurance and all that other stuff to deal with.
“ And it’s been healthy too. It’s been great.” She pedals 35 minutes to work every weekday on West Markham Street, Rodney Parham Road, Hinson Road and Taylor Loop Road.
“There are a few uphills but not too bad,” she says. “I probably leave about 6: 50 in the morning. I stay on the road. Of course I have my helmet and everything. Traffic’s not too bad. They seem to be very respectful of me.
“ In the evenings I try to go a little bit after the traffic has cleared out.” Taking those thoroughfares takes “gumption,” she says, which she has. But even this road warrior had to develop her nerve, and she did that by giving herself permission to ride on sidewalks until she was sure she had the stamina to handle hills in traffic.
A Little Rock city ordinance doesn’t permit bicycles on sidewalks in a business district (Section 32-494 ), and proper bicycle conduct is to ride in the street, staying to the right so long as that’s safe. But “I was kind of intimidated at first,” she says.
Not anymore. Timing: Working the third shift means John Martin can pedal to work from Leawood in Little Rock to Arkansas Children’s Hospital long after the streets clear. “It’s just five miles from my house,” he says, and he amuses himself by alternating his routes. “Cantrell Road is my biggest obstacle,” he says. “I just have to pick my route carefully and be patient to get through the traffic.” Oddly enough, darkness has prevented Rob Baker, an anesthesiologist at Children’s Hospital, from biking to work this winter.
He rode routinely last year when he lived in Philadelphia, but he’s been leery of early morning darkness in Little Rock. “I live really close to work, just under two miles,” he says. “The way I drive is pretty much a perfect route to bike except that it goes through one neighborhood that’s not the best. But now that it’s light outside in the morning I’m going to start biking the same route I drive.” His wife isn’t keen about his plan, but he figures evildoers don’t wake up until noon, because they have to stay up late to prowl the night. Intention: “It’s about what you want to accomplish, why you are doing it,” Holsted says. “If you are contemplating riding to work, then there needs to be some thought put into it. Plan your route, time of day you will ride, traffic concerns, dealing with weather, how you will clean up before work so you don’t start getting ‘you stink’ signs on your desk.” In other words, think through what would have to change for “I can’t” to become “I could” and look for a way around the problem. From that sweet spot, these commuters say, it’s a quick trip to “I do” and “I love it.”
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