Car-Free: Day 4

It’s my fourth day of living car-free. I will begin by stating the obvious: there is a reason they call it Chapel Hill. But I am finding that biking the hills in reality is not as difficult as I make it out to be in my mind when feeling lazy. I am rather enjoying life by bike. It’s slower-paced, but I’m more active. I am forced to think about where I go rather than making impulsive expeditions. I am feeling fitter already and acclimated to the heat.

It helps to look at this month as an athletic challenge as well as a lifestyle change. (My goal is by the end of the month to make it up the big hill on Airport Drive without having to get out of the saddle). I also am finding that my fear of traffic is lessening somewhat, as I get more comfortable being out on the roads. Still, I think Chapel Hill has a long way to go to be the bike-friendly community that local politicians like to talk about.

I think that more people would be tempted to commute by bike in Chapel Hill if safe bike lanes existed on commuter routes. The empty bike racks behind UNC Hospitals are a sad commentary on the lack of safe local bike routes. At a hospital that employees thousands, I usually see two other bikes in the racks during the day.

I commute four miles to UNC Hospitals from North Forest Hills, riding south on MLK Jr. Blvd (aka Airport Drive) and then cutting across campus. MLK Jr. Blvd. has rather dangerous inconsistencies in its bike lanes, transitioning abruptly from a marked bike lane before Estes Drive to a “Share the Road” sign that is hidden behind tree branches until you’re right up on it. Stormwater grates on that section of the road make it particularly dicey, especially when trucks pass at high speeds with little room to spare. Yet there is room along most of the road for sidewalks to be widened to accommodate bike lanes. Town council, do you hear me?

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Full disclosure: my husband and I drove to Sewanee, Tennessee this weekend for his high school reunion. It was about 1,000 miles of driving round trip. I began to wonder during the hours sitting in the car about the contradictions inherent in trying to live with a reduced carbon footprint. On one hand, I challenge myself to live without driving for 30 days, but then I take a trip that burns more fuel in a weekend than I would in 30 days of typical driving. So am I a hypocrite? I don’t think so. The many of us trying to live more sustainably are not trying to return to a time in which people lacked material goods, technology, and transportation. We are trying to live thoughtfully, usefully, and with appreciation of what we have, rather than mindlessly, impulsively, and wastefully.

To me, one of the most important parts of living more sustainably is thoughtfulness about how I use resources and for what I use them. This involves daily choices about values—do I need this new shirt or I am experiencing fashion lust? Do I really need five more minutes under the hot water in the shower during a drought? Do we need to travel to my husband’s reunion? The answer in the latter case was yes. It was important to him to reconnect with his classmates and the place where he spent some of his most formative years. Still, it’s disconcerting to do the calculations—660 pounds of carbon dioxide put into the atmosphere in just one trip. Living a modern American lifestyle is hard on the environment--and my conscience.

Climate Change in Chapel Hill

Much media attention has been paid in the last year to climate change and some of the more dramatic possible global consequences--sea level rise, drought, and disrupted water supplies, with poor nations bearing much of the burden. But, as a Chapel Hill gardener and frequenter of nature trails, I began to wonder what may happen in my own backyard.

The last 100 years have seen a warming and drying out in piedmont and coastal North Carolina. Temperatures rose significantly in the piedmont and coastal regions, with an increase of 3 degrees F in coastal Carolina between 1911 and 2002, according to a 2006 report by the State Climate Office of North Carolina. Although maximum summer temperatures did not increase significantly in the state in the last century, minimum temperatures rose, particularly in urban areas. As for rainfall, the greatest decrease occurred in Chapel Hill, which saw a decline of 4.1 inches between 1893 and 2002.

Although the International Panel on Climate Change has little to say about global warming’s likely consequences in the Southeastern United States, climate scientists do predict that an increase in temperatures will be accompanied by more frequent storms, more heavy rainfalls, and more frequent droughts.

Flora at the southern end of their distribution range, such as those found in the Appalachian Mountains, will be particularly affected by warming, according to a study by the National Biological Service. Spruces, firs and the rare endemic herbaceous plant, Geum radiatum, are highly vulnerable, says Johnny Randall, assistant director for conservation at the North Carolina Botanical Garden.

Closer to home, Randall says he worries most about Catawba rhododendrons growing on north-facing slopes of Morgan Creek. These rhodies are not particularly well adapted to warmer temperatures and unpredictable rainfall. “I think we’ll see them drop out relatively quickly,” he says.

If plants that like cool conditions may be losers, vines may well be winners in a warming climate. This includes the backyard scourge (and native) poison ivy, Toxicodendron radicans, as well as exotics like Japanese honeysuckle, Lonicera japonica. A study by Duke University found that poison ivy grew 2 ½ times faster with increased carbon dioxide.

A changing climate also favors weedy exotics such as Microstegium vimineum, says Randall. Weeds tend to take over disturbed sites because they are highly adaptable and have a lot of genetic diversity, traits that may give them even more of an edge when some native plants begin to struggle.

Some early shifts in vegetation are already detectable in the Piedmont, as wax myrtle (Myrica cerifera) and Baccharis halimifolia have begun moving inland from the coast, Randall says. It is unclear, however, whether this is related to global warming or to land disturbance created by development, he says.

What’s a gardener to do in these uncertain times? I began to wonder if my neighbor who created a garden entirely of tropicals had the right idea. But Randall helped abolish these heretical thoughts. “Planting native plants is more important than it ever has been if we want to maintain some biodiversity,” Randall says. Biodiversity is an important component of ecosystems’ resilience to change. Another reason to continue using Southeastern native plants in our gardens is that most of them are already are adapted to extremes of weather—heat, periods of drought, and heavy rainfalls.

So, I’m planting a variety of natives, most of them somewhat drought tolerant. I study the heat zone maps and avoid buying plants that are already at the southern end of their comfort zone. I installed a rain barrel to catch runoff from heavy rains and keep my new plants alive during droughts. And, most important, I’m doing what I can to reduce my carbon footprint.