A Walk in the Woods

by John Whiteley, President 1995-1996

September 2000

The woods were lovely, dark, and deep. They really were. And Yr. Obd’t. Svt. was rapidly approaching a major milestone in his life, so a calming walk in the woods seemed to be in order.

Hiking boots, fanny pack, and staff. Pretty much just the essentials. Oh, of course, a map and compass, and lunch and water. As my footsteps trod up the path, my mind was free to wander, free to contemplate the deeper thoughts that come with aging.

Except for one distraction. The footpath, part of the Grassy Cove segment of the Cumberland Trail, obviously wasn’t just a foot path. In fact, from the start, there were the deep grooves that only ATV’s can make on a sloping path. Yes, tire tread marks. Lots of them. And they really were distracting. Even though it seemed as if there wasn’t anyone else to share these woods, there was still that distracting history of noisy, smelly machines destroying the solitude of the woods. And it got worse! A couple of miles up, the mountain trail widened into a sun-drenched, bulldozed dirt road. No more dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. In fact, no more trees. They had been bulldozed to the side of the road. This sorry state of affirs continued until the slope of the mountain became too great for even an ATV to hold and the intrusive evidence of these destroyers of the wilderness wandered off to find more suitable terrain.

A visit to the Cumberland Trail Conference headquarters in Crossville elicited the information that there was little that could be done to keep the ATVs off the trails. The fine people at the Conference office explained that most of the trails in the Grassy Cove segment were originally wilderness roads, so motorized transportation was historically entitled to the same rights of usage as foot travelers.*

So, what does this have to do with bicycling? Well, during my most recent foray upon the briny blue (actually the briny brown, since I’m working in the Gulf of Mexico where the water is generally anything but blue) the Chattanooga region apparently experienced a tumult between bicycles and automobiles. Seems that someone again complained, basically, that roads were for cars, and cars only, and that those toy bicycles should restrict themselves to backyards and sidewalks.

This isn’t the first time that this argument has come up, and it probably, alas, won’t be the last. In fact, just about a year ago a similar argument was presented in the Jacksonville, Florida, newspapers, eliciting a slew of comments both from drivers and cyclists. In fact, your faithful scribe even joined into the foray as a visitor to the region who enjoys biking on their roads.

Motorists usually present the argument that the roads were built for cars and that bicycles are a recent phenomanon on the roads. They also argue that bicycles restrict the swift passage of automobiles and that the cyclists haven’t paid the highway-supporting fuel taxes that motorists pay. These arguments are easily refuted.

First of all, no, the cyclist didn’t put fuel in his bicycle and therefore didn’t pay the fuel tax. But just about every cyclist owns an automobile (even Jesse Roberson!) so cyclists have been paying that tax right along with everyone else. No, they possibly haven’t paid as much as a motorist who never leaves his air conditioned cocoon, remaining inside his steel womb from the time he leaves his heated garage, through the fast food drive-in, through the bank drive-through, and even past the dry cleaning pickup window before parking his behemoth in an enclosed, heated parking garage. But, then again, the cyclist isn’t doing nearly as much damage to the highway infrastructure as that two-ton wheeled behemoth. Carrying the "they don’t pay any taxes" argument to the extreme, will pedestrians be excluded from walking along the roadways, since they have paid no tax?

And, yes, it must be agreed that bicycles occasionally restrict the swift passage of automobiles. But stop and think -- when you’ve been driving your car and have been caught behind a cyclist, how much time have you lost before you could safely pass? Five seconds? Ten seconds? As much as a minute? And, when you do pass, you usually receive a friendly wave -- using all five fingers! -- from the cyclist. Now think about the time you have been caught in traffic behind -- horrors! -- automobiles. How many hours have you lost because of the congestion that automobiles cause? Using the "they slow me down" argument, shouldn’t automobiles be banned from the highways? They could use, say, Forest Service roads or other secluded routes, routes that wouldn’t allow them to delay anyone.

But the easiest argument to refute is the "we were here first" argument. Uh, sorry, Mr. Driver, but you’re wrong there. You see, bicycles had a strong wave of popularity here in America during the 1880’s. This was a time when the roads, such as they were, were rutted, muddy, dirt roads, churned up by horses and wagon wheels. Travel within the town limits, let alone to the next town, was an adventure, both for the burgeoning wave of cyclists and for the newfangled (and scarce) invention, the automobile. What was to be done? Well, the League of American Wheelmen (now the League of American Bicyclists, or LAB -- why did they ever change such a quaint name?) fought for and won the rights to have better roads. Called the Safe Roads Movement, it led to widespread improvement in the surfaces of the roads that were then in existence. Had cyclists not fought for better roads, the automobile probably wouldn’t have gained such widespread popularity, Henry Ford notwithstanding.

So next time a motorist complains that you’re restricting his freedom of movement, or tells you that you should get off HIS road, stop. Take a deep breath. Then invite the motorist to discuss the situation over a cup of (decaffeinated) coffee and explain who was there first. If he doesn’t like it, well, then he can just take his car on some rutted, potholed dirt road and leave the paved surface to you, the descendant of the brave souls who fought for and won better rights for cyclists.

Or, better yet, invite him to take a ride with you. When he experiences the serenity, grace, and joy of our sport you may have just made another convert.

And don’t forget to wave with all your fingers.

Have fun, don’t fall, John

*There is a happpy ending to this story. Seems that there are some endangered plants in Grassy Cove and the only way to protect them will be to restrict traffic to foot traffic only. The Conference has already started the bureaucratic ball rolling. And, yes, this is gleefully spoken as a true roadie! While there are definitely places for mountain bikes, there should also be places that are restricted to the solitude and quiet travel by foot.