How we get around, matters
According to the Lufthansa Innovator Hub, the average carbon emission of walking is zero grams per kilometre. For a regular bike it is eight grams per kilometre. Public transport options, depending on distance travelled and type of fuel used, range between 11 and 98 grams per km. An electric car is 99 grams per km, and a petrol-fuelled car is 210 grams per km.
Aotearoa NZ has the highest rate of light vehicle ownership in the world with 800 vehicles per 1000 people. We are the private car capital of the planet. We have evolved a fossil-fuelled culture that is hyper-mobile and super-charged. Our cities are designed for the private motor car. The area around Christchurch North parish where I am currently doing a supply ministry is crazy with cars and largely unsafe for walking or cycling.
In such a car-addicted society it is not easy to transition from car to bike. I feel as though I am pushing against the tide. It takes self-discipline to put on my helmet and high-viz jacket rather than pick up the car keys each morning. At first, I found the distance from home to my parish daunting and even more so when biking into the keen easterlies. But through perseverance the ride became second nature and not a challenge. It simply became a way of life.
As a fun way of encouraging myself to keep cycling, I record my kilometres travelled and these contribute to an imaginary journey. The first such journey was from Cape Reinga to Bluff (2,065km). When I completed it, I then set new challenges. My current challenge is the longest yet. I am cycling from Brighton, England to New Brighton, in Otautahi, Christchurch. A few days into the season of Epiphany I passed the 20,000 km mark in the Australian outback.
Significantly, for me cycling has become a spiritual practice that is life-giving in multiple ways. Through choosing to make cycling my Plan A when I need to go somewhere I have found greater peace and joy. It has benefitted my own sense of wellbeing. This has become even more important since being diagnosed with a disease that is incurable. I have a growing sense of being part of the healing of the earth and of myself and community. Cycling has deepened my understanding of planetary care as self-care.
Riding a bike changes the way you see the world and life in all its wholeness. I feel much closer to the natural world and to other people. I notice each season more vividly. I see and hear the beauty I am part of, but also the ways that our society is pushing nature to the margins. I have gained a sharper awareness of the reality of car-addiction.
In all of this I feel closer to the divine and so each journey is an inner as well as outward one. Each journey is an act of prayer integrating body, mind and spirit. Every time I set out there is a sense of giving myself anew.
Cycling is also an act of solidarity. Cyclists are a minority group who are often invisible to decision-makers, or denigrated by motorists with high-levels of entitlement. Being in a minority makes you vulnerable. You begin to see the injustices of our transport infrastructure. The needs of the poorest and least-abled members of our society are constantly minimized and sacrificed through inadequate spending on quality public transport, walkways and cycleways.
During Lent I encourage others to cycle rather than drive wherever you can. Well over half of car journeys are less than 2 km in distance. Start small and make a commitment to reduce and eliminate these short journeys.
A crucial part of our climate justice commitment as a hāhi must include strong advocacy for greater funding for good public transport and investment in quality walk and cycleways.