N.H. family going a month without car

The avid and longtime bicyclists maintain it's not the sacrifice it seems: Both regularly bike to their jobs at the University of New Hampshire, just under 2 miles away. They also get by with just one family vehicle.

"This just turns up the commitment," said the 43-year-old Bell, an assistant professor with UNH's outdoor education department.

Still, they've had to compromise.

Instead of driving to Shaw's Supermarket 9 miles away in Dover or Hannaford Supermarket 13 miles away in Portsmouth, they stick to the Durham Marketplace, just around the corner, and limit themselves to one or two bags to fit everything into the bike trailer.

And there have been days when they've longed for the comfort of what Bell calls their "motorized umbrella."

On May 1, for example, Bell arrived sweaty and red-faced to his 8 a.m. doctor's appointment in Somersworth (roughly 20 miles round-trip).

And on a rain-drenched morning, Potier loaded a drowsy and PJ-clad Holden into a trailer and pedaled through the chill to campus to bring her husband a forgotten item.

Despite some of these more trying instances, they've resisted the urge of the gas-sucking machine -- unless there's a medical emergency.

Friends and neighbors are impressed by their drive, or lack thereof. "It's brave," said Per Berglund of Durham, a UNH professor of physics. "If they can do it cold turkey, we can all do our parts."

More than one-quarter of all car trips in America are shorter than a mile, and half of all workers commute 5 or fewer miles, according to the community group Seacoast Area Bicycle Routes.

Bell and Potier lament that America isn't a thriving bicycling society like Europe. Bike racks are hard to find, motorists aren't well educated on interacting with bicyclists, and cars don't foster community.

For example, on his bike, Bell will stop to talk with neighbors. In his station wagon, he used to just wave. And drive on.

Marjorie Foote, a UNH colleague, described a similar autonomy. "It is immensely freeing to leave the car behind," said the Kittery resident, who has biked to work several times a week since undergoing hip surgery in 2006. "And riding brings about a kinetic body memory of childhood - when your bike took you into other worlds."

For those just starting out: Stick with it, she said. She admitted dreading it at first. But "now it's not grueling," she said.

"It's fun, meditative, enjoyable. I see wildlife - turkeys, rabbits, foxes, deer. I've gotten stronger. Now I'm in it for bicycle legs."

The 46-year-old Potier, meanwhile, described the views she's taken in from gel-padded seats: "Gorgeous, stunning, it feels like you're a million miles away."

Above all, the couple hope to pass that appreciation onto their son.

In many ways, they already have: The 3-year-old loves to ride in the back of the tandem; he becomes similarly wide-eyed when he rides buses and trains, and he has his own miniature fleet of locomotives.

As his parents talked, the boy - who shares his father's fair skin and blond hair - played with a plastic train, rolling it back and forth, murmuring softly, "chugga-choo-choo, chugga-choo-choo."

Playing conductor, he paused in front of Bell. "Daddy - get on," he said. Obliging, Bell pointed to the caboose. "I'm back here."

The train rumbled on. Dad smiled. "He's already into alternative forms of transportation."