I think only Los Angeles tops Texas cities in terms of urban sprawl. Last week I tried to think of ways I could help reduce my contribution to the problems it causes.
I threw around the idea of riding my bicycle to work.
Besides my healthy fear of pedaling alongside rolling steel boxes of death piloted by the increasingly distracted, there was the small matter of the distance and time involved. Google Maps put the ride at 10.3 miles and 53 minutes.
That isn’t too shabby considering that it takes me nearly half that time to go the 11.2 miles in my car. But, by the time I add in the time it takes me to shower after sweating in the 80-degree pre-dawn Texas temperatures, the bicycle looks even less attractive. Not to mention the various fungi the work showers would introduce to my feet.
If I walked it, I could cut my distance to 9.9 miles, but Google estimates the time at 3 hours, 14 minutes. Under the “hobbies” section, I checked “photography,” and it jacked my time up to 4 hours. Ouch.
I know my commute isn’t very long compared to many around me. Basically, I drive from one suburb to the next, while most keep going into the city. I never even get on the highways. No mixmasters, no high-fives, no HOV lanes.
Compared to where we lived before Texas, however, it’s a killer. It took me maybe four minutes to drive to work, and there I did ride my bicycle in a few times.
Still, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut when I feel like saying I’d like to live closer to work.
There’s a great commuter rail system, but the tracks stop about 10 miles shy of where I work and don’t show any signs of extending. Carpooling just wouldn’t work with my unpredictable quitting times and my occasional need to work from home.
So, I’m back to moving as about the only way to commute more responsibly. Until, of course, work decides that telecommuting every day is just fine. I often wonder how many people would leave metro areas if they had that option.
