Friday, October 10, 2003 • News Briefs Section

The three-wheel wonders of UCSB
Five campus riders trade in their two-wheelers for recumbent trikes and rediscover the joy of cycling
By Ted Mills, Special to the Voice

Around UCSB, many people know of David Lawson and his love for recumbent trikes, even if they don’t know him personally. He can be seen on the bike paths on his way to or from work, pedaling his TerraTrike, looking as laid back, literally, as a cyclist can get. The people-powered three-wheelers may look strange next to the typical hunched-over cyclist, but Lawson, along with four other people on campus, hope to slowly change the way we transport ourselves.

"David is a natural salesman," says fellow trike-rider Dorothy "Dottie" McLaren, who works in the same department as Lawson and wound up getting herself a trike for her commute. "He’s not trying to push you to buy anything; he just loves his trike and can’t wait to tell you all about it."

Lawson indeed thinks he is on to one of the greatest developments in cycling, and the 55-year-old talks about discovering trikes with the glee of a teenager talking about renovating his first hot-rod.

A longtime cyclist, tinkerer and mountain bike enthusiast, he made the switch after a visit to his chiropractor in 1997. He was thinking of moving from the relatively upright mountain bike back to a racing bike, and was told, "You’re going to take your back from bad to worse."

So Lawson decided it was time to investigate the recumbent bike that had been hanging in the window of a local shop, gathering dust. "Utter bliss," is how he described the test ride. No longer was the stress on his back, neck and arms; it was just pure pedaling power. But he found the two-wheel recumbent a bit unsteady, especially at slow speeds, and hard to control in curves. He tried a recumbent trike and was sold. "It was a dream," he says.

Not only were his back, neck and hands saved from future damage, but Lawson was hitting high speeds and traveling long distances without feeling exhausted. "Forty miles on a regular bike used to be my limit," he says, "On the trike, I took part in a 24-hour marathon where I rode 250 miles. Racegoers would see me and say, ‘Here comes the smiling guy!’" Nobody else in the marathon seemed to be having as much fun as the recumbent rider.

Bruce Tiffney, a professor of paleontology who’s a year younger than Lawson, got into trikes when looking for the best way to commute to campus.

"I tried to bike to work," he said, "but my back was not happy." At first he tried the two-wheel recumbent, but the love affair ended when he crashed into a pile of cactus. Then he tried the trike and knew he’d found the solution. "I live close to the bike path, so it’s perfect. I can attach a trailer and take in materials and books." Tiffney doesn’t fancy taking it onto main roads, however. "It’s so low, it’s like sitting on the road."

Lawson understands that fear, but says the trike is safer than a traditional bike. "Everybody in my bike club has had broken bones from bike accidents, or their knees have given out," he said. "The worst thing I can say about my trike experience is that I’ve scratched the paint."

Lawson and the others ride what are known as "tadpole" trikes, which have two wheels in front and one in back. Geoffrey Wallace, the oldest of the five at 60 and UCSB’s ombudsman, also takes his trike on long rides — from Rincon to the Santa Ynez Valley and beyond — and, like Lawson and Tiffney, makes sure his trike is visible to traffic.

"I like to look a car dealership opening," he says of his brightly decorated trike. All the trike-riders fly tall flags to ensure they’re seen by SUVs and trucks. Tiffney’s trike sports large headlights that make him look like an off-road vehicle.

Wallace sees the trike as a way out of our society’s "gas addiction" and a way to combat the growing numbers of Americans with obesity and diabetes. "Working the muscle groups in the legs on the trike," Wallace says, "burns more calories than others kinds of working out." New riders will find it takes about a month to adjust to the new muscular demands.

Michael Petracca, a lecturer in UCSB’s writing program, switched to the trike when two herniated discs in his neck made it impossible to bike anywhere. He’d seen Wallace and others riding trikes on campus, took a test ride and knew he wanted one. Petracca bought his trike in an eBay auction, but "it took me a month to assemble it," he laughs.

He’d never met Lawson until he read a story on the cyclists on a Web site a year ago. Unfortunately, Petracca lives near the Mission, so he can’t really use it to commute. Instead, he uses it as a purely recreational vehicle

Lawson has bought a majority of his trikes from WizWheelz, a small company in Michigan that wound up sponsoring his marathon ride, as well as letting him test out their new trikes. "I’m their unpaid crash-test dummy," he jokes.

Of his status as trike guru — he was the first in the area to own one — Lawson admits surprise, since he sees himself as a bit of a loner and "anti-social."

"I don’t want to be a role model," he says, "and the five of us are not a group. We’re all far too eclectic for that."

Photo Caption: Four of UCSB’s "tadpole" recumbent trikers pedal near the campus. The riders say the trikes are comfortable, fast and stable. Photos by Sky Bonillo