Month three of the Bike Locally Challenge is over. My numbers were down from month two, but solidly within what I need to keep the Globe:

• Miles: 66
• Groceries and other errands: 12
• Talk about my bike: 7 points
• Social media and blogging: 3 points
• Attend Bike to Work seminar: 10 points
• Interviews: 20 points
• Rides with novices: 30 points
• Total Points: 148

My days of anonymity are over. I, and my fellow Bike Locally Challengers, will be featured in the October edition of Marin Magazine. According to my son, I will be famous.

My casual ride to the Larkspur ferry is over. During summer, I rode down Doherty past Redwood High School. It was me, the blacktop, a bunch of birds, and an occasional deer. That route is now overrun with teens. Teens riding bikes. Teens driving cars. Teens moving slowly with headphones on.

I now go over South Eliseo Drive behind Bon Air Shopping center. The Ghillotti Brothers are ripping up the street with giant diggers. But, I’ll take an Italian working heavy machinery over teen drivers any day of the week. It is nice trip for me. The creek to my right, Mt. Tam in the background, and the Ghilotti’s building something. It is the beauty of Marin and reminder of my childhood home in New Jersey all in one.

The peaceful lazy days where I got ready for work while the rest of the house slept or watched television are over. Replacing them is chaos — making lunches, waking up the kids, getting them dressed and fed. I ran late and jumped in the car. One day off of the Globe. Luke asked me to drive him to school on Friday. Another day bike day lost. I feel the dominoes begin to fall; I have visions of Tom Boss repossessing my Globe.

The final two months of the Bike Locally Challenge will be challenging for me to overcome. But, the solution is simple. Just get on the bike and go.

Two more months, 100 more miles, and 50 more other points to go. Get over it.

Being a resident of Marin, I probably should have thought about the environmental meaning of it all. Are we destroying lion’s natural habitat? Have we destroyed its food chain?

But, I didn’t. I had two thoughts. First, I thought about which of my kids he would eat first. I decided it would be Mark, not only because he was the smallest, but also, because he looks to be the juiciest — the “veal” of the Meringolo boys. Second, as I rode my Globe near the family of deer that routinely and peacefully, without fear, grazes in the deserted farm off of Doherty Avenue, I thought that the mountain lion would certainly select me as the weakest one of the herd. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

On Thursday, I attended a presentation of the CEO of Timbuk2, Mike Wallenfels about why and how we should commute to work by bike. He commutes by bike from Novato to San Francisco almost every day. Although I don’t commute as far, I did step it up in month two of the Bike Locally Challenge. Here is my tally:
• Miles: 95
• Groceries and other errands : 10 points
• Social media : 3 points
• Talk about bike: 1 point
• Take novices for rides: 50 points
• Total Points: 159

I crushed the contractual expectations and kept pace with my own. I commuted by bike to the ferry 3 or 4 times a week last month. Next month, to keep pace with that Timbuk2 guy, I plan to ride all the way into my office in San Francisco.

Mr. Wallenfels discussed the money you could save by commuting to work. He was preaching to my choir. Employing some fuzzy math, and taking into account my inherent laziness that would “force” me to drive into the office once a week, I probably saved $30 in gas and $80 in parking and $24 in tolls.
Being a Marin resident, I probably should have cared more about the environmental reasons for commuting by bike discussed by Mr. Wallfels.

But, I didn’t. Instead, I kept thinking that there was no way a mountain lion could maul me if I commuted by car.

So, I look for inspiration. What would Hemmingway do if he knew a lion was on the loose in his neighborhood? No doubt about it; it’s time to get back to the safari, Meringolo, because month three of the Bike Locally Challenge has begun.

I don’t know any novices.

My friends are tri-athletes. They ride 50 miles like I take a stroll in the park. One friend, when his wife and kids were out of town, rode to the summit of Mt. Tam, took in the view, and took pictures of himself holding his bike above his head like a trophy. Another friend rode a bike from California to Alaska; another down to Los Angeles. My friends have different bikes for different occasions, all with double-digit gears. They know the different bike component manufacturers; they know the size of bike wheels and what difference that makes. They read bike magazines.

I am a novice. I have one bike, it has a 8 gears, a basket, looks cool, and stops when I hit the brakes — that’s all I know. The first time I tried to ride to the Sausalito ferry, I missed it. When I did make it, it took me 50 minutes. I routinely get passed by 60 year olds wearing spandex. I forgot my lock. I had to walk my bike part way up a hill. When my wife and kids are not home, I grab a beer, watch the game, and go to bed early (actually, I do that when they are home, too). I lift my bike to my chest – maybe – up the stairs in the ferry terminal after my “long” 2.5 mile commute. No pictures, please. I can’t carve out the time to write this blog, let alone time to read a magazine.

These are not the achievements of an expert.

I used to be an expert at things. I threw two guys out at home from centerfield as a 10 year old all-star. I held the high score at Pac Man at the roller rink. I was a high school class president. I once led a soccer team in scoring. I beat an Olympic hockey legend in a one-on-one basketball game. I landed the hot chick in college, who is now my wife.

This is what we do. Aging men with expanding waist lines and declining “game” cling to the past. We trumpet our past achievements. We buy a Porsche.

Not me. I celebrate my novicehood. I ride slowly, with my head held high. I ring my bell so that pedestrians can move to the side for the out of shape 40 year old guy riding a bike with a basket. I strap my groceries on my Globe, or commute to work, while wearing jeans and flip-flops. I walk my bike when my heart rate gets too high. And I won’t buy a Porsche (a classic American muscle car maybe.)

I am a novice. I ask for nothing. Except, maybe this: Can I get some extra points for riding with myself?

The goal, per the contract (legal speak), is to log 50 miles on the bike and to accumulate 25 “other” points. Here’s my tally:

· Talk to people about my bike . . . 11 points

· Use social media to report on the challenge . . . 13 points

· Run everyday errands . . . 10 points

· Take novice riders for rides . . . 20 points

· Miles . . . 51

Total Points: 105

Contractually speaking, I am right on track. But let’s get real. I only commuted to work five times — and one of those times I missed the ferry! I took two weeks off for work and vacation. I posted just three blog entries. The only novice riders with whom I rode were my family members.

There is no need for a recount; I just need to step it up. Time to channel my inner Jillian.

The past week I had almost no free time: in early to work, home after the kids were asleep, and a suit required every day. I had not one minute to ride my Globe. The last time I rode my bike was about a week ago. To burn a few more calories, I decided to ride to the Sausalito ferry. I needed to catch the 8:20; if not, the next one was at 10:55. A funny thing happened on the way to the ferry . . . I got lost. I missed the boat, called my wife, and my Globe and I sheepishly went home via SUV. At least Mark, sitting in his car seat, was happy to see me stuff my Globe into the car. I drove to the Larkspur ferry so I could put in my 8+ hours in at the office. One minute of work, all the rest free time, certainly would have helped me that day.

Law is a demanding profession. Fatherhood (with three young boys) is equally, if not more, demanding. I constantly struggle to keep the proper balance between work, family, and exercise. Last week, work won.

On Friday, I once again had a chance to ride my bike. But, Nicolas wanted me to drive. He wanted to try to beat our record of getting to school at 7:29. He wanted to tell me all about Field Day and his team. I wanted to listen. I chose to drive him and then drive to the ferry.

Work is back to normal. School is out for the summer. I have nothing but free time now. Back on the Globe next week.

Wednesday was my first commute on the Globe. I packed my Timbuk2 bag, put my lock in the basket, and took off to the ferry terminal. Amateur move. Somewhere along the way, I lost the lock. I had planned to lock my bike at the terminal. Instead, I took it onto the ferry and into the city. I bought a new lock and rode to my office. I had a meeting at 4:00 near the Giants ballpark. I rode through the SoMa streets — a nightmarish mixture of pot holes, big steel plates, cracks, and dirt. To get home, I rode along the Embarcadero to the ferry building.

It was by far the best commute day I had ever had. It got better.

The guy taking tickets at the ferry terminal said, “Cool bike.” “Thanks. I love it.” “What kind is it?” “It is a Globe. A brand by Specialized”. “Is it heavy, those old school bikes are usually heavy.” He lifts it. “No, it is pretty light. Cool.” “It is a really awesome smooth ride.” Then he added this: “I love the color. It looks like a Navy ship. Like a Destroyer.”

I am not old; I am old school. I am not riding a bike with a basket to work; I commute by Destroyer.

The facilities manager at my meeting was a young hip urban kid. “It looks like a San Diego bike.”

I love the beach; I love San Diego.

An older British gentleman was checking out my bike on my Friday commute. I was checking him out. He had long shorts, knee-high green socks, a hat, long curly grey hair, and a leather vest. “What kind of bike is that?” “It is called a Globe.” “Does it have gears?” “Yes, eight. They are internal.” “Is it a good ride?” “Yes, it is a great ride. And, I love the basket. Makes it really practical and easy to get around.” “It reminds of the old bikes I had in England when I was a kid. But, then they brought in these bikes from France . . . .”

This ain’t no French bike; it’s all Union Jack for me.

It is a week into the Bike Locally Challenge. I learned quite a bit: people love this bike, the “challenge” of biking locally is just doing it, and the smooth well-marked bike paths of Marin County put the San Francisco streets to shame, thanks to the Marin County Bicycle Coalition. I am sold on biking locally in Marin.

Most importantly, I learned that I am keeping this bike. If after all my commuting, errands, and blogging I don’t earn enough points, Tom Boss and the Marin County Bicycle Coalition better bring some heavy artillery to try to take my Destroyer away from me.

About a month ago, my wife mockingly sent me an application for a contest — The Bike Locally Challenge by the Marin County Bicycle Coalition (“MCBC”). MCBC wanted to pick six people who were not “cyclists” to participate in the challenge to ride 300 miles over a six-month period and use social media to report about it. You earn points for each mile and each report. The idea is to show people the way to use a bike to do every day activities: commute, run errands, etc. They lend you a bike and it’s yours to keep if you earn enough points.

I know my wife was mocking me because this is up her alley, not mine. She runs a successful eco-minded company, Fabkins. Also, I am always complaining about being out of shape. “Ride your bike to the ferry,” she says. I did a couple of times, but I never kept it up. This was her way of calling my bluff. Ride, fat boy, ride.

I did not want to be one of “those” people. The Bay Area is hardcore. It seems like you cannot do anything half way. You can’t just want to be an entrepreneur; you need to be a fully funded start-up company. You can’t just want to go for a run; you have to train for a marathon. I don’t want to make a statement when I hop on my bike. I just want to get from point A to point B and, perhaps, shed a few pounds along the way.

Because I knew my wife was not expecting me to do so, I entered the contest. The funny thing is that when I was writing the entrance essay, I started thinking about my bike experiences. I remembered my first ten speed when I was in seventh grade. I remembered zipping around the high school parking lot as fast as I could. I remembered riding my bike to the beach, across town to Matt’s house, into Red Bank. My bike was my freedom.

I won. Perhaps the judges liked what I had to say. Perhaps I fit into a type (a lawyer, 40 year old guy, a father with three kids, etc.) Whatever the reason, I picked-up my new Globe Live 2 bike from Tam Bikes in Mill Valley. Bryce, one of the owners of the shop and a great guy, set it up for me.

I needed to get this bike home. So, for the first time in my life, I rode a bike from Mill Valley to Larkspur. On paper, it seemed daunting. But it was a breeze –a little less than six miles and mostly on bike paths (some of which I did not know even existed). I finally get it — this is the point of this challenge.

I have changed my mind about the basket. It looks more like a wooden platform; an old school surfboard. The bike reminds me of my all-time favorite bike – my Malibu beach cruiser — with an urban flair. And, based upon one ride alone, it is safe to say it is the best quality bike I have ever ridden.

Follow this blog if you care to see how it goes. Even if you don’t, I will keep on posting so I earn enough points to keep the bike.