A resolution well worth it.

Byline: Karen McCowan / The Register-Guard

TRYING TO DISTILL my 2001 "no drive day" experiment to a single, quintessential commute, I'm torn between two memories.

The first: One of those black, stormy November days. Hours earlier, in the company cafeteria, I'd scurried away in alarm when a gust of wind hurled a plastic patio chair against a large pane of glass. Then, riding the bus home as darkness fell, I felt cozy and safe even as the wind continued to drive rain, leaves - even whole branches - horizontally by my window.

At Gateway Mall, a multi-ethnic crowd of mostly young shoppers and retail workers squeezed aboard. The warm space buzzed with urban energy and conversations, including one between a developmentally disabled teen-ager and a grandmotherly nursing home worker I recognized as regulars.

A windblown young man dropped into the seat beside me and immediately immersed himself in a book. I glance at the cover: Nietzsche's "The Anti-Christ." Perfect!

One goal when I resolved to leave my car home one day a week was to rub shoulders with a different crowd than I normally encounter. Bus commuting has provided that chance, in spades.

The second memory is far simpler to describe: It was a sunny autumn morning. I was kicked back, enjoying my first-ever recumbent bicycle commute. I pedaled along at just the right height to strip an occasional handful of ripe fruit from the blackberry bushes that line the bike path.

All in all, I count my experiment a success.

Even factoring in the weeks I fell off the car-free wagon, I drove 700 fewer miles in 2001 by riding a bike or bus instead.

Even figuring in this fall's 50-cent increase for a daily bus pass, I saved more than $100 over the cost of operating my car an extra day a week.

Perhaps most importantly, I reduced by 28 pounds the pollutants I put into the air by driving this year - something we're all going to have to do if Oregon is to achieve its goal of a 10 percent reduction in carbon dioxide emissions by 2010.

Certainly, "carlessness" also complicated my life on occasion. Particularly in winter, when darkness - and the last bus to The Register-Guard - often came before I'd finished my work at the paper. I'm not crazy about walking alone after dark to the nearest bus stop with later service.

This rainy fall and winter also convinced me: Not driving is much easier during a drought. When I began this experiment last January, I rarely had to wrestle an umbrella on top of my briefcase, purse and workout bag.

STILL, I'M GLAD I made the resolution - in large part because of reader response.

When I wrote in October about trying a recumbent, for instance, I feared the topic was too trivial so soon after Sept. 11. But I got dozens of positive responses. Many praised the timing, given our oil-dependent foreign policy. Letters came from as far away as Tokyo.

"Read your column online," former Eugenean Ruth Kanagy wrote. "Welcome to the fold! I bought a recumbent last year ... it has changed my life."

The response was warm beginning with last January's New Year's column explaining my main motivator: With no vehicle at my disposal, I hoped to be free (at least one day a week) from the pressure to run those extra errands that chop a working parent's day into frenzied fragments.

"You were so right to zero in on the word, `freedom,' ' wrote John Rose, now an only "occasional" auto user. "Having that car outside the door certainly gives us something. But is it freedom?"

Not according to Lane Community College instructor Bill Woolum, who said bus commuting freed him to be "more of a human being than a human doing."

"I arrive at work and at home more relaxed," he said. "My family, students and work all benefit from how nicely gathered and clear-minded I am when I don't drive."

And you really can't beat a letter like this:

"Just wanted to thank you for bringing up the `no drive day,' ' wrote Tom Bosworth, a father of three. "Having spent good money on rarely used club memberships, I was needing, but not necessarily looking, for an exercise outlet. Your article showed me an alternative to the early morning or evening workout session, or - heaven forbid - jogging.

"It prompted me to dust off a 10-year-old mountain bike I received as a graduation gift from my grandfather, and see if I could ride to and from work. I started on a Friday, just in case a weekend of bed rest or hospitalization might be required."

He now makes his 22 mile round-trip commute by bicycle four to five days a week.

"Clothes are fitting better," he concluded, "I can keep up with my boys, and I feel better about myself."

What 2002 resolution could top those results? My own goal is to keep it up.