For many cyclists, a long tour is the ultimate goal, promising adventure, new horizons, and independence from the routine of workaday life. If this describes you, but you have no experience of touring and need a guide to show the way, you’ll find just what you’re looking for in Raymond Bridge’s Bike Touring: The Sierra Club Guide to Travel on Two Wheels, recently published by—you guessed it—the Sierra Club.

When I was a novice at two-wheeled travel, I owned a copy of the original edition of Bridge’s Bike Touring. It was a very useful guidebook, and there’ve been plenty of times I wished I still owned it, but it was published in 1979. Needless to say, a whole lot has changed in the last 30 years, so I was delighted to hear that Raymond Bridge was working on a new edition. And when the publisher’s review copy arrived in my mail box not long ago, I lost no time in opening it up for…

 
A First Look Inside  You can’t tell much about a book by its cover, of course, but you can tell a lot by looking through the index, so that’s where I turned first. Why? Because the index is the key to whatever treasures a guidebook contains. And Bike Touring‘s index didn’t disappoint. I couldn’t find a single important topic that wasn’t listed—bicycles (types, history, frames, commuting with…), brakes, fenders. panniers, dealing with dogs or bears, camping, tools, repairs, first aid, clothes…. There’ll all there, and plenty more besides.

Next, I checked the “Table of Contents.” Bike Touring is divided into four sections, and it begins, logically enough, at the beginning, with “Getting Started.” Then it moves on to an overview of the state of the mart (“Bicycles and Equipment for Touring”) before taking to the road (“Touring”). Lastly, there’s a substantial compendium of useful references, in a voluminous appendix that’s aptly titled “Resources.”

So far, so good. Now it was time to…

 
Dig Deeper  Cycling is a product of the industrial age, so it’s no surprise that a large part of Bike Touring is devoted to extended—and extensive—discussions of gear, from bikes to clothes to camping kit. With helpful cross-references, an excellent index, and that hefty appendix I mentioned in the last paragraph, it’s a snap to find an answer to just about any question you might have. Better still, in recognition of the fact that there are times when a picture really is worth a thousand words, John Lencicki helps bring it all together with carefully drafted illustrations. In short, the explanations are clear and the advice is sound. No subject is too small for consideration, nor is any too large to tackle. And whether it’s small or large, Bridge invariably steers a careful course, always giving the reader just the right amount of information, never too much or too little.

Are you worried by the fact the first edition of Bike Touring appeared before many of today’s cyclists were born? Don’t be. Any fears I might have had that this new edition would be nothing more than a cosmetic makeover of a creaky and obsolescent tome were quickly put to rest. Bridge may be a veteran cyclist, but he’s not prey to wistful reminiscences or rose-tinted nostalgia. Bike Touring is as up-to-date as this morning’s weather forecast. Cell phones and GPS, the Internet and Google Earth—they’re all here.

OK. It’s obvious that I like this book. But…

 
Does It Really Have NO Downside?  Well, almost. Perfection is the unattainable ideal, I’m afraid. But the only shortcomings I’ve found are minor, indeed. The discussion of water treatment options overlooks a recent entry in the field: the new generation of portable ultramicrofilters that now make it possible to remove viruses from contaminated water supplies by mechanical filtration. I confess to having my doubts about their utility in the rough and tumble of life on the road, but they are an intriguing development, nonetheless. I suspect they simply appeared on the scene too late to find their way into Bridge’s text. This is, as I said, a minor omission.

And where else does Bike Touring come up short? Well, this one’s a little embarassing. I was pleased to find Tamia’s Outside Up North mentioned in the appendix, and delighted to learn that this website “has a wealth of good advice on bike touring and camping.” But I was somewhat surprised to learn that I was an Alaskan writer. Admittedly, the northern Adirondack foothills often feel very far removed from the Lower 48, but the last time I looked they were still in New York. So am I.

No big deal. Really. And what’s…

The Bottom Line?  If there were a World Series for guidebooks, Bike Touring would be my odds-on favorite to win a four-game sweep. Lots of hits. Plenty of runs. And only two minor errors. Who says veteran players can’t light up the scoreboard? Not me! If you’re new to touring—or new to cycling for that matter—you won’t find a better guide than Raymond Bridge’s new old favorite. Trust me.

 
The Small Print  As always, Outside Up North accepts no payment for endorsements or evaluations. See our full statement at “About Outside Up North.”

Bridge, Raymond. Bike Touring: The Sierra Club Guide to Travel on Two Wheels Sierra Club Books, San Francisco, CA; 2009. ISBN 978-1-57805-142-7.

 
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The sight of a soaring eagle. A leaping trout. The cry of a lonely loon. A brief glimpse of a distant, ambling bear. These are some of the things that make each trip unique, even if we’ve paddled the same stretch of water dozens of times before. But how much thought do we give to the trees that stand silent sentry on the shore as we pass by? Not enough, perhaps. After all, unless your travels carry you very far north indeed, it’s easy to take trees for granted. I know. I once did. No longer, though.

It’s not hard to see why we fall victim to this curious myopia, of course. Unlike a moose or a wolf or a heron, trees don’t strut their stuff. They often awe, but they seldom exhilarate. We humans live our lives at a fast tempo. Like most other animals, we exist in the here and now, dancing a quickstep from cradle to grave. Trees belong to a very different order of things. They measure time in seasons, not days, and the astonishing annual transformation that poet Philip Larkin called “their yearly trick of looking new” is slowly and painstakingly “written down in rings of grain.” This record takes a lot longer to register the passage of time than the second hand on a wristwatch.

The bottom line? We don’t often make the sort of emotional connections with trees that we do with deer and salmon and hummingbirds. But this is just an accident of perspective. It doesn’t make trees any less important to us. Try to imagine your favorite lake without its birch‑clad islands or pine‑sheltered coves. Not a very pretty picture, is it? That’s why I’m going to take a closer look at the lives of these unobtrusive witnesses to our passing and repassing. And I’ll begin my story with… Read more…

 
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I have a hard time forcing myself out of bed in the dark, but by the same token, I like being up before dawn. It’s the best time of day. I enjoy seeing the wild night shift retiring to their beds while the day shift takes over. This last week, a family of five white-throated sparrows has been visiting to eat and put on some fat before continuing on their migration south. There’s a male and four others who are probably his mate and offspring. The young birds are indistinguishable from their parents except in one way—they’re practicing their call, and they’re off key. The adults don’t sing at this time of year here, and it was a surprise when I heard an off-key song clear as a bell right outside the window next to my desk. That makes it worth getting up before full light.

I’m hardly alone in enjoying the coming of the day. Bob Angel, of the Mobile Studio Travels of the Japan Considered Project, this week camped at Hunting Island State Park, South Carolina, and he woke early to catch the dawn on this beach:

 
I love this photo—the composition, the colors, the setting. Can’t you almost hear the gentle hiss of the waves washing ashore and receding in rhythmic progression? I’d like to step right into the picture with my cup of steaming coffee to breathe the salty air and feel the refreshing coolness on my face.

 
Read Bob’s full report of the park on his blog, beginning with Part I, then go on to Part II, then Part III, and finally, Part IV. I’m betting you’ll be glad you did.

 
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