Until recently, my daily commute was to drive 10 miles from Pepperell to the Ayer commuter rail station, board the 6:04 am train from Fitchburg. I arrive at 7:15 am at North Station, then power walk for 18 minutes to Genzyme in Cambridge. In the evening, I reverse everything and get home at 6:55 pm. By car, it would be 46 miles one-way, an estimated 1 hour and 10 minutes with good driving conditions. While these driving estimates are considerably less than my commuter rail commute, I am more rested when I get home. The extra energy allows me to play with the kids before bed time.
On June 11, I left my Mazda3 and I rode my bicycle 10 miles to the Ayer station, totally unprepared for the many challenges, with the goal to try to bike commute twice a week.
In June and July, I had plenty of light at 5:10 am to navigate 2 miles of streets to the Nashua River Rail Trail (NRRT) to the Ayer MBTA station. I made the 10 mile trip 14 times for a total of 140 miles, saving 4.6 gallons of gas.
On my first ride, I left 10 minutes later than planned, with no margin for delays and got a bug in my eye a mile down the NRRT. And while my eye is full of tears and blinking uncontrollably I struggled to maintain a pace to get me to the station on time. Ole “One-eye” rode on for about three-quarters of a mile before blinking out the bug. Several minutes later, with the eye still watering like crazy, another but got into the other eye.
Had I left on time, I could have stopped, but Ole “One-eye” rode on through the tears. Thankfully, I hadn’t passed anyone else on the trail. I can picture that: “No, buddy I’m not winking at you.” Despite Hazard #1 I did make my train, and now I ride with clear lens sport glasses.
I have discovered other hazards. The flying insects are on the list twice as Hazard #2, despite the new sports glasses, under the category of frequent choking hazard. I have a water bottle, but do I really want to wash them down? I opt for the rigorous coughing method. My other concerns are dozens of skittering rabbits (Hazard #3), and flittering birds intent on eating the flying insects oblivious to my presence (Hazard #4). Dodging the bunnies and kamikaze birds wreak havoc with my momentum and sap my energy, but I’m doing it for the exercise right?
In August, I committed to biking five days in a row, even with the dodging and the choking. I wasn’t sure I had the stamina and most of my morning ride is in darkness and a bit scary because there are very few street lights. My $35 commuter headlight shines about 20 feet up the trail -- great for walking or rollerblading, but when traveling 17 or 18 miles per hour there isn’t much margin for error when encountering pot holes and crazy little animals.
On Aug 27 at the MBTA platform with my helmet and backpack, a regular passenger commented on how it won’t be long before it will be dark every morning. One comment led to another and I described to the whole platform the near-zero visibility, incessant bugs, reckless fauna, and kamikaze birds. The train came and I finished by saying they shouldn’t worry because if I ever encounter I skunk I won’t ride the train with them.
Aug 28: enter Hazard #5 -- classic temperature inversion fog. The NRRT passes through several swampy areas, which explains the zillions of flying insects. The warm days and cold nights inevitably reached the foggy point and diminished my 20 feet of headlight illumination to an uncomfortable 15 feet. I was forced to slow down a little but I was doing okay, cold at 55 degrees.
That is until a dark shape appeared on the edge of the trail just beyond the shimmer ahead. I braked hard. Hazard #6 continued to waddle just beyond the brightest illumination. My first thought before braking was “Why did I joke about skunks?” Fortunately, my careful stalking revealed another tough customer in the form of a waddling pin cushion known as a porcupine. He stayed on course along the edge of the trail and I zoomed past on the other side relieved, but heart still hammering at what could have happened if Mr. Waddles was Mr. Stinky instead.
On Aug 31, I dumped the pump, despite all the hazards of the trail at night, for five days in a row. While there are many hazards, I have enjoyed the peace, quiet, and occasional picturesque moment of a pre-dawn reflection in the water. Who knew a swamp could look so good? I have saved three more gallons of gas -- attributable to the Dump the Pump challenge. I proved to myself that I have the stamina to ride several days in a row, and as long as the weather permits, I plan to ride three days a week instead of two, another result of Dump the Pump.
Sean
Genzyme
Cambridge
