Streetlife stars in pedicab rides

Pedicab owner and driver John Wright looks for his next fare at Market and Pleasant streets in Portsmouth, N.H. (Yoon S. Byun/Globe Staff)

PORTSMOUTH, N.H. - The night is muggy, stirred by an occasional salty breeze.

Pedestrians swarm. Restaurant lines spill onto sidewalks. In Market Square, under the glare of the giant ant statue, a flute and a tambourine banter.

Then, gliding out of the dark among the swirl of people, cars and music: A bicyclist, sweaty, panting, hauling a yellow-and-black egg-shaped cart.

Wheels hum. Legs pedal furiously. In the back, two passengers chatter as they bump along in the plastic bubble.

The contraption passes by; glides down a hill; disappears.

Here in seaside Portsmouth, a new brand of taxi fights for respect on the cobblestone roadways.

"It catches your eye," 24-year-old John Wright, the owner of Granite State Pedicabs, says with a huff after unloading a passenger. ". . . That's part of the appeal."

Pedicabs - one to start, but a fleet of them soon - started whirring along Portsmouth's streets in June. Pedaled - and peddled - by four drivers who only accept tips, the two-passenger cart serves as a non-smog-belching form of transportation, a quasi-tour guide and also a fresh perspective on this buzzing city of 21,000.

"Portsmouth has blown up in the last couple of years," says Wright. "It's one of the most unique cities of its size."

On this night, Wright shows off his favorite mecca from the pedaler's seat. The redhead - in black shorts and a yellow shirt, keeping with the taxi theme - motors on a 21-speed mountain bike attached to a cart. For refueling, a water bottle sits tight in a holder.

All told, the contraption measures 51 inches tall by 120 inches long, and has been amped with shocks and a motorcycle brake. Climbing in requires stepping up and ducking to plunk into black-cushioned seats protected by a windowed canopy.

At around 8:45 p.m., as he pushes off with his right foot, the Web developer by trade prefaces with a chuckle that he's "by no means in tip-top shape."

At first, the ride is slightly bumpy, a warm, uneven breeze lightly nudging. But as the cyclist speeds up, the cab settles into a steady whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

Then, Wright hangs a right onto Market Street. Music escapes from bars. Tiki torches flutter. The lit-up steeple of North Church stands; Colonial houses hunker right on the sidewalk.

On cobblestones, giggling girls move in packs. Guitar-pickers try to crack the world open in front of coffee houses. Burgers sizzle; al fresco diners sip sodas and clink utensils.

The city is alive, crackling - behind car windows, all this would be muzzled.

"You wanna take a ride?" Wright asks periodically, slowing as wanderers gaze at the cab. At one point, a chuckled query comes from the shadows: "Doin' loops?"

After 10 minutes, no hailers. They come in streaks; the best nights yield 20 or 30, Wright says. To supplement tips, he plans to sell ad space on the back next to the stenciled "TAXI."

Now he's past the crowds; here the street widens. Up ahead, a green light. "Let's see if we can make it." He speeds up, feet racing. The cart jostles. "We got it," he breathes, banging a right onto Maplewood Avenue.

Finally, he reaches his destination (a Hanover Street parking lot). Time to disembark.

"Driving around in a car, you're closed off - in your own world," he notes as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

In a pedicab, though, you get a whole different sensory experience, he says. The carry-alls are "as green as it gets." As he puts it: They get "50 miles to the burrito."

In environmentally-conscious times, it seems more people are finding such novelty in this hamstring-powered transportation.

Pedicabs have rumbled into Newburyport, Salem, New Bedford, and Provincetown - and they've long been a Hub staple.

Ben Morris, owner of Boston Pedicab, offers a few reasons for their appeal. "They're eco-friendly," he said, "They're different."

And sometimes, it's not just the oddity of the ride that entices, he said. "People often say the most intriguing thing is the driver."

That's the lure for at least two Friday night.

"You can take a quick ride and hear about the businesses, the history," City Councilor Kenneth Smith says before hopping in for a quarter-mile jaunt. "This guy's working his calves off out there."

His wife, Deborah Bouchard-Smith, wearing a black dress and flip-flops, adds, "It's a five-minute window of education."

After hailing him, the couple settles in, shoulder to shoulder. Immediately, a hill. Wright persists slowly, at pace with a brisk walk, as they chatter. Smith quips as they get closer: "It's all downhill from here."

Then, the driver wheels the pedicab down a dark street and maneuvers for a curbside stop. The pair climbs out.

Wright waves and glides away, in search of his next fare.