This is the High Life 2

Posted by Trey Bean Fri, 27 Apr 2007 01:59:00 GMT

Being car-free makes late afternoon beer runs tough. Sure, we can walk the half-mile to the 7-11, but we wouldn’t be getting the best deal possible on our champagne—and nobody likes overpriced suds at the end of a hard day.

Erin and I chose instead to mount our trusty steeds and make the trip over to Costco—not the easiest place to shop without a car. But give us a few bungees and a bike rack and beer’s never tasted as sweet.

Carpooling rocks! 1

Posted by Erin Bean Wed, 15 Nov 2006 05:39:00 GMT

As I told our friend Stephanie today “when I say carpool, I mean you come and pick us up.” Yes, this can be construed as mooching, but Stephanie called specifically to offer a ride to our mutual destination, so I don’t think it’s too parasitic.

Carpooling rocks because it saves us from venturing into the cold, cold night. And even better, sometimes the driver needs to stop at the grocery store; when you’re a regular guest in the vehicle, sometimes this can seem like a pain, but when you’re a car-free guest in the vehicle, you see it as a free bonus!

Grab all you can carry! 6

Posted by Erin Bean Sat, 04 Nov 2006 23:45:00 GMT

One early lesson of the car-free life: buying in bulk just got a lot harder. Can you imagine hauling a 24-pack of paper towels home from Costco on your bike? Unless you live next door to Costco, frequent bulk buying is an unattractive proposition. (And really, who’d want a warehouse club for a neighbor? Talk about unattractive.)

Even when I’m shopping at the neighborhood grocery, without a car, I don’t want to buy big items. Forty-pound bags of dog food, for example, are awkward and require walking home with a bag almost as big as my dog slung over my shoulder. Or paying a buck fifty for the bus. And the other day, I bought a 1-gallon glass jug of apple juice, only to fully realize how much lighter plastics are than glass. I swear, the thing weighs ten pounds. Sling one of those monsters from your index finger for half a mile, and you’ll understand why plastics have changed the face of the modern world!

And even if I’m not buying large or heavy items, I still can’t buy a lot. There’s only so much my panniers will hold, or, if I’m walking, I can only carry 5 or 6 bags. This means I can’t buy a week’s worth of food in one grocery trip; in the last week, I’ve made at least four trips to the store—maybe more.

But, as with everything, car-free grocery shopping is easier if I put a little forethought into it. If I’m at the store for one item—say, Benadryl—I’ll still fill my bags to their capacity. Are we almost out of yogurt? I’ll stock up, even if there’s still a few cartons in the fridge. How about dish soap? If I have the room, I fill it. Even if we don’t need anything, I buy one or two cans of tomatoes, or some frozen ravioli, to stock the pantry. Gotta make the most out of every time I saddle up the ol’ bike!

As I’ve piecemeal-stocked the pantry, I’ve also been stocking our freezer with frozen leftovers. Even if it’s just two servings of root vegetable hash, I know it’ll be a lifesaver in those times when we’re too busy or tired to get on our bikes or stroll to a nearby restaurant.

As I write, I realize these strategies sound like the advice of a penny-pinching, coupon-clipping housewife. But it has nothing to do with saving money, my friends—it’s pure laziness. When it’s snowing and the roads are icy, I know I won’t want to leave the house. Stocking the pantry and filling my bags to capacity whenever I go shopping will help me achieve that goal.

And if all else fails, there’s always pizza delivery.

(As for Costco, 24-packs of paper towels, and 40-pound bags of dog food: it’s our plan to borrow a car or share a trip with a car-owning friend when we need to stock up on bulky necessities. And if we’re desperate, well, we’ll just buy in smaller quantities at the grocery store. Because, like I said, this ain’t about saving money, friends. We can splurge on a two-pack of Bounty every now and then.)