Author: Brie Gyncild

I wrote an inaugural blog post last year, just before the world and my travel plans turned upside down. The book was very nearly done, and I expected to send it off for printing in mid-March. I’d worked with local folks to design a solar e-trike (shout out to Bike Swift). I’d even arranged for someone to live in my house while I was gone for five months.

But everyone’s plans changed in early 2020 as the world navigated an unprecedented public health crisis. Never before have we all — every country, every demographic group — been vulnerable at the same time, with real-time communication across borders and oceans so that we could all see and share in each other’s trauma. Of course, we all know that the pandemic’s effects — though universal — were not equal. In the United States and many other countries, the same communities that suffer disproportionate damage from climate change have also suffered dramatically more death, illness, economic hardship, and discrimination during the pandemic, while the privileged have mostly suffered inconvenience and social isolation.

The book was just about ready to go, but I realized I needed to revise it in light of COVID-19. Avoiding air travel was no longer a heavy lift for most people, but avoiding single-use plastics became much, much harder in an era when every surface was disinfected thoroughly after every contact. The things that had seemed simple, such as taking your own bag to the grocery store, were prohibited in many places. Video conferences, which felt like an odd thing to suggest a year ago, are now the norm. Carbon emissions were dipping as the world stayed home, but they weren’t dipping enough, and the cause wasn’t sustainable. (A neverending pandemic isn’t the cure to climate change!)

I didn’t revise the book immediately, waiting for the dust to settle a bit before I explored the long-term implications. Meanwhile, the uprising following George Floyd’s murder spurred me to take a harder look to make sure equity was woven throughout the book.

So it isn’t quite the same book I was about to publish last year, but it’s a better, more relevant book. I aim to publish in March of this year, followed by a cross-country solar e-trike tour in 2022.

I’m biking across the country, roundtrip, this summer. And it’s a big country, so I need to cover significant mileage most days. I enjoy riding my standard bike around Seattle, up and down hills, and longer distances. But when I thought about hot winds and mountains, the ride didn’t seem all that fun.

E-bikes have made cycling available to people who never considered it before, and they’ve changed the lives of folks who’ve been biking for years. I’ve only ridden them a couple of times, and frankly, the motors scare me. But I was pretty sure that my trip would be much more comfortable with a little motor assistance.

Here’s the thing, though. I’m traveling the country to talk to people about climate action. I just couldn’t imagine charging my batteries from a coal-powered grid. And there may be times that I’d run out of juice far from an electrical outlet. If there were a way to power the battery with solar energy, that would keep it clean and keep me self-sufficient.

Tom Fucoloro, the savvy guy behind Seattle Bike Blog, suggested I talk to Henry at Bike Swift. I did a bunch of homework first, not wanting to waste his time on an unrealistic goal. I looked at enough batteries, solar panels, and technical information to decide it may just be doable. So yesterday, I dropped by to talk to Henry. He thinks it’s realistic, too.

All of the pieces are falling into place. I have a draft of the pocket guide, and am on track to self-publishing it in March. I’ve got a tentative agreement with someone who can live in my house and keep an eye on things while I’m gone. I’ve talked with Mountaineers Books about the next book, the one that will share the stories of the amazing people I meet this summer and their climate projects — as well as the story of my own journey and information about action everyone can take. And I’ve reached out to old friends around the country who I’m looking forward to catching up with.

It’s very exciting, at the age of 51, to have the opportunity to combine an adventure with a mission I care about.

I look forward to the journey — and documenting it to share it with you. Meanwhile, you can follow me on Twitter @gyncild.