Pedaling through North Cascades National Park and along the Puget Sound

Sewing it together

A desperate solution

Glaciation from the Cordilleran Ice Sheet

Mt. Baker from the Puget Sound

Mt. Baker's Heliotrope Glacier (as seen from picture 4)

Trip Summary

Puget Sound

       As a young boy, I spent weekends working around the house with my father. He is what most would describe as a pack rat and a handyman. We would spend hours working solutions to problems that could be solved with just fifty dollars and trip to the store. It drove my family insane but he always...or almost always, managed to find a solution working with what he had.    

     I've since discovered that my father was not so unique. For the time period, he may have been able to save more time and money but after taking a closer look I discovered that these values have been expressed and passed on for generations. I, and many of my generation, have grown accustomed to the modern age of Wal-Mart and other large conglomerates. These businesses flood the marketplace with inexpensive, easily replaced goods. Thus far, I have lived my life as a beneficiary of the well orchestrated exploitation of natural resources. My recent 1500 mile bike tour from Lander, Wyoming to Bellingham, Washington was the first step I’ve taken to separate myself from my current lifestyle and explore something new.

      Bicycle touring provided an experience like none that I’d imagined. Heading into some of the most remote regions in the lower 48 I envisioned a trip filled with wildlife and vistas. Much to my surprise, bicycle touring turned out to be quite the social endeavor. What I found to be most interesting, were the small towns and villages that we spent time in. In a car, I have always treated road trips as a great way to skip from one desirable destination to another, only stopping in between for gas and a quick snack. Traveling on my bicycle, I quickly learned that the desirable locations are these small towns.

     In Twin Bridges, Montana, population 400, we arrived cold and wet. The community there informed us of a bike camp just outside of town on the Flathead River. One local business man, Bill, noticed that bicycle tourists were frequenting this small town and that local entrepreneurs were benefitting from the traffic. He petitioned the bike camp as a way to lure cyclists into their town so they’d use local amenities before continuing on. Bill’s capitalist endeavor worked wonderfully. We bought groceries, used the library, and even spent some time at the local watering hole. The community could not have been more hospitable; local ranchers, Kathy and Shane, offered to cook us dinner so we spent an extra night.

       At dinner they described the community’s view of cyclists and how it had changed after the bike camp was built. Initially they were a nuisance on the roads, Shane described, but as the cyclists spent more time with the community they discovered how interesting these travelers were. Twin Bridges now embraces the cyclists and look forward to greeting more. Bill’s project had been deemed a success by the community.    

   Reading the media, I notice economists and politicians constantly referring back to growth, and to solve the economic crisis is to relinquish your financial fears and shop. This works great! Even though we’re unemployed or concerned about our job security, we should spend what little money we have to expand the economy. It is only then that we will see signs of a healthy recovery. Stock prices soar, corporations merge to drive down the cost of consumer goods, and more jobs are available.

            This economic model is brilliant; it fits our lifestyles and fosters our progressive nature. So what about our environment, the very thing that actuates life on this planet? These two ideologies seem to be in constant conflict. We all know that a healthy environment is important but it must be considered in exchange for economic prosperity.  How can we negotiate a balance between these two? Is it even possible? Can we restructure our method for survival so that we maintain a high quality of living?

             Our idea of “standard of living” has dominated my thoughts for some time now. As I grow older I find that it becomes logical to subscribe to this ideology. I, like many, enjoy my freedoms and often fear the idea of living without. Modern culture loves the idea of stuff and buying more of it. We're addicts, clinging onto consumerism to give us comfort and assurance. This isn’t anything to feel bad about; it’s the world in which we were raised. I, like many, lack the knowledge, creativity, and discipline to explore anything else.

            Even in preparing for this trip, something seemed amiss in terms of considering environmental factors and my own consumerism. Shiny new bikes and camp stoves beckoned to me. It was then that I realized even my choices while preparing for a bicycle trip could be more sustainable. I proceeded with planning, more comfortable in this new paradigm. I tried sustainable bicycling as a way to learn more about an alternative lifestyle and its effectiveness on people’s lives.

      I’ve spent time learning about the energy crisis and efficient alternatives. Sitting in lectures I feel like we have all the answers, the technology, the foreseen positive economic influences, I’m comforted and inspired by scholars that have broken down every detail into a workable solution. When I leave, I’m confronted by a cold reality; I start my SUV, a gift from my parents to help me manage in this world. I’m now wondering, how or what can I do to bridge this gap and help change our lifestyle?

             In my travels, I saw the value of thrift and working with what you already have to derive a solution.

            Just outside Republic, Washington I blew out the sidewall of my tire so that it was impossible to travel on. With no spare or a bike shop within 50 miles, I was forced to improvise. Having spent the past 3 years working at the bike shop, I’ve always had an inexpensive replacement that was readily available.  I was reminded me of weekends spent troubleshooting with my father around the house.

             Using a small patch and a dollar bill as a temporary fix, I was able to gain some perspective on my situation without getting stressed out. It was then that I remembered the sewing kit Rico and Beth had given me with my recycled panniers. That night I decided that I'd hand stitch my sidewall back together. The next morning I awoke excited and optimistic, pumped up my tire and the repair held. I was back en route to the coast!

Miles down the road we encountered a Wal-Mart where I was able to buy a replacement for $14. Even on a limited budget, sparing the money for a replacement seemed entirely logical. But what about Sustainable Bicycling and my bike recycled from used parts? Could I sacrifice everything out of necessity or fear that my repair would fail? Logic would point me in the direction of tossing on the new tire just to gain some peace of mind, but if I have learned anything, it’s risk vs. reward. Never have I achieved any of my goals without pushing through a fear. With just over 300 miles to the coast and 4 mountain passes, I continued with my repaired tire on the front and the replacement stowed away.

            One week later I arrived in Bellingham smiling ear to ear. We had made to the coast and my sidewall was fully intact.

It was then that I felt everything come into perspective. Sustainable bicycling had been an incredible experiment. I was able to liberate myself from my car, my possessions, friends, and daily influences. My mind was free and open to interpretation. I’d discovered more about myself and happiness then I ever thought possible. I wasn’t going to change the world by riding a recycled bike, that wasn’t the point. For any sort of change to occur, we must work within ourselves to make small adaptations. Our way of life is becoming threatened by scarcity but not our happiness or will to survive. We will elicit the development of substitutes and it can work within our communities. Our economy, our collective structure of living, will adapt to the demands of the people and our environment. We need not to worry about our immediate gratification, for if I can, then anyone is capable of finding their own sense of happiness. Just like my father, it wasn't about the time or the money, I had both; it was the idea of self sustainability, using only materials I had acquired to solve a problem and the feeling of accomplishment that I got from it. These principles, so foreign to us, are marketable and applicable to our daily lives. Without drastic change, we can work to suppress our hunger for resources with these techniques