I went car-free in the suburbs. I'm happier and healthier, and wish I did it sooner.
My first-ever piece for Business Insider on the delights of living without a car.
In early 2014, the clutch of my once-reliable Volkswagen started to stick. My hatchback had helped me survive a Los Angeles commute and a reporting job in the Gold Country foothills. But a decade of service had worn it down. Now it was struggling to change gears and screeched every time I put my foot on the brake.
Facing thousands of dollars in repairs, I decided to take a leap into a different kind of existence: life without a vehicle in suburban America.
That leap turned out to be more of a short walk. At the time, my wife and I were renting a three-bedroom with two housemates in the South Berkeley flats. It was run-down, with a hole in the bathroom wall covered by a tarp. But it was only a few blocks from the nearest BART station, and now I had to take the train to work.
The 10-minute walk took me past a row of colorful houses and apartments, red-and-yellow nasturtiums poking from their yards. The crisp morning air hit my lungs like freshly brewed coffee. The train ride, too, gave me precious time to read. Before selling my car, I had never considered myself a morning person; a week or so after starting my new routine, I was often downright perky. The stroll became a highlight of my days. It bookended hectic workdays, a walking meditation that prepared me for the meetings and emails ahead and calmed me after a day of go, go, go.
After a few months of this, I wanted to…
Read the full article at Business Insider.
Take Action
drop | Go Car-Less. At least for a day. Try walking to work, or the store. Take a bus. Use your bike. Anything but driving.
ripple | Write Your Representative. Tell your representative to do everything they can to ensure infrastructure investments back pedestrians, bikes and equity. I took two minutes to write to Mark DeSaulnier of California’s 10th District. Find your rep.
ripple | Back Biking. Support your local bike group. Donate your money, time or your unused wheels. I once took my mom’s old bike to Rich City Rides, which got my donation for this issue.
Got even better ideas? Let me know. I’m new to this.
Would you like join the Climate Action Book Club?
I am part of a climate group in Barcelona, and I recently decided to try launching an in-person book club within it: The Climate Action Book Club. If you’re in the city, you can sign up to join us.
For all those who are not, I’m open to doing an online discussion, if there’s interest. The first book: Not Too Late, a collection of writings from some of today's most brilliant and inspiring environmental justice leaders and thinkers. See the in-person listing for more details.
Interested? Send me a message or leave a comment.
Biking to the George Washington Bridge | excerpt
It sweeps away depression and today you can’t tell the heaped pin-white cherry blossoms abloom along Riverside Drive from the clouds above it is all kerfluffle, all moisture and light and so into the wind I go past Riverside Church and the Fairway Market, past the water treatment plant and in the dusky triangle below a hulk of rusted railroad bed a single hooded boy is shooting hoops
Read in full at poets.org.
Friends Doing Cool Things
My friend Scott Paterson has a newsletter, Field Report, that’s a fascinating dive into what’s crossing his radar and also an experiment in co-creating with AI. Plus if you find yourself desperately needing a headshot at the last minute, he’s your man. My photo in The Guardian was thanks to Scott.
Gratitude
This newsletter is a collective project. Thanks to my editor at Business Insider for giving me the time to make the edits myself. Thanks to my editor-in-chief, Roshni Kavate, for her wise counsel — and for making me stop to take a photo. And thanks to my copy editor, Steve Kay, for his careful review. All errors are mine alone.
On Substack
A bunch of different writers have written accounts of why they left or remained on Substack. My goal is to read them and then, at last, decide my next step. I still have not done that. But I will.