Halfway through my latest bike tour, I climbed the Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park, Montana, all the way to Logan Pass, 2000 metres on the Continental Divide of the Rockies. There I had to wait eight hours before proceeding further east, as the road below was under repair from landslide damage. Over the course of the day, quite a number of other cyclists arrived at the pass. About half of them were young cycling campers, heavily laden with gear (two of them broke spokes on the climb). The others were middle-aged men and women on fancy racing bikes, escorted by a guided cycle touring van. The latter riders’ daily travel budget was likely ten times that of the former. As usual, I was the only member of my breed: an unsupported “credit card tourer,” hauling one third the load of the campers, on one third the budget of the guided “adventurers.” For over 25 years now, I’ve regularly enjoyed light-weight bicycle touring, staying in hotels, motels, or bed and breakfasts along the way. And I have always wondered why more people don’t travel this way.
As a supporter of all human-powered transport, I’m pleased to see anyone on a bike, so I have little interest in “recruiting” converts from either of the aforementioned groups. But I do believe they are unwittingly contributing to an image problem, and that this is an obstacle to broader popularity of travel by bicycle. The campers, often engaged in epic expeditions (at Logan Pass, some were bound for Alaska, others for Maine), certainly impress many people with their dogged determination. Their stories appear regularly in popular literature. The guided cyclists I’m sure often fill less well-off observers with envy. Their itineraries regularly appear in glossy magazines. But neither of these types inspires many to follow their example.
Softer, easier, faster, more comfortable, and more convenient than bike camping, yet more spontaneous, more adventuresome, and far more economical than supported guided touring, I believe credit card bike travel is a promising compromise, especially for the over-30 crowd.
What (And What Not) To Bring
Map: Other than a well maintained, comfortable bicycle, this is the most important item. Should be 1/200,000 scale. The key to consistently safe, pleasant bike touring is knowing how to select your route from these maps. Do not succumb to focussing on destination or displacement; the ride is the thing. Never take a straight busy road when you have a crooked quiet alternative. Don’t be afraid to follow your whims along the way. Wander off on appealing-looking side roads even if it leads to a dead end. Allow curiosity to be your guide as you discover what’s over the next hill or around the next bend. Italians have the perfect word for this aimless approach to navigation: curiosare . Most of your time should be spent on roads where you’ll experience less than four car or truck overtakes per minute. (Unfortunately, in BC that’s often difficult to achieve on paved roads. Washington and Oregon are far superior and Europe is best). Avoid bigger cities – they’re inevitably full of cars. If curiosity overcomes you, leave the bike behind and take a bus or train into town. Be aware of prevailing wind conditions; most often from the west in temperate latitudes. If travelling along a river or a coast, plan to be on the “water side of the road” (But especially in the summer, coast roads can have heavy traffic). Good maps remove the need to carry a guide book. Conventional travel books are full of info on all the places you want to avoid on a bicycle – too many tourists, too many cars. Bike travel guides are often unimaginative in their itineraries (often overlooking the quietest routes), remove the element of adventure, and can be tedious to use but may be wise to have for the first trip. Why paint by numbers when you can compose an original?
Handlebar bag
This doubles as a purse where you can store all your valuables, camera (and compact binoculars, if you are a bird watcher like me). It snaps on and off, and has a shoulder strap. Carry it with you whenever you leave the bike. Such a piece should be standard gear for all cyclists, day-trippers, utilitarians, and travellers.
Small rear panniers
As most rear panniers are unnecessarily large, I use front panniers as rear ones. These are compact enough to go carry-on if flying. They should contain just one change of clothes. You must wash your socks, shorts, and shirt every night. Ask reception for a fan to dry them, if necessary. Don’t over-pack with foul weather wear in the summer. I only bring Gore-Tex if I anticipate cold rain. As for toiletries, don’t bring a new 120 cc tube of toothpaste! Try to guess how many cc’s or grams per day you will require of all liquid items. If you underestimate you can always buy more along the way.
Water
Don’t bring a lot of “just in case” items. And don’t carry too much water, it’s heavy! As a doctor, I feel dehydration is overrated in popular literature. If you’ve packed properly (total 6-7 kilograms) you really shouldn’t be sweating much. Unless you expect very hot weather, one water bottle is sufficient. Pedaling on paved roads, you are rarely more than 30 minutes away from a tap. If travelling in our western cordillera, you can safely refill from most mountain streams.
Seat bag
For tools, a spare tube (no spare tire), a rag, mini bungee cords, maybe a small cable lock (no U-lock).
Helmet mirror (or a rear-view mirror that attaches to your sunglasses)
This is another favourite of mine that remains mysteriously unpopular in North America and unavailable elsewhere in the world. If you are going to be travelling on deserted roads, why would you need one? Paradoxically, the quieter the road, the more likely you are to be surprised by an overtaking vehicle, especially if your hearing is impaired by a roaring river, crashing waves, a blustery wind, or your own singing! Having this “eye” in the back of your head provides constant awareness of what is behind you (usually nothing), and allows you to use the whole road – e.g., the sunny side if it’s cool, the shady side if it’s hot, the smoother side, the water side, etc. A rear-view mirror is also your best protection against punctures, as it allows you to safely swerve around debris, cracks, and potholes. I average only one puncture per 3000 kilometre tour. In fact, most rides are completed without any mechanical problems at all – light-weight touring is easy on your machine. Best of all, helmet mirrors make for excellent conversation pieces. In fact, the most frequently asked question when I’m touring is “What’s that thing on your helmet?” You will thus meet lots of people, which will provide you ample opportunity to extol the virtues of your preferred mode of travel.
About the Author — Tom DeMarco, a family physician in Whistler, BC has been car free since 1991. He has cycled over 200,000 kilometres on five continents. Article reprinted from Momentum magazine.
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