2 wheels, 90 miles

"Get a bicycle. You will not regret it if you live." -- Mark Twain

ALONG THE EAST COAST GREENWAY -- Cycling south on U.S. Highway 17 toward Wando High School, my rearview mirror shows a clump of cars and trucks rapidly approaching in both lanes.

The law requires them to share the road, but there just doesn't seem to be enough road to share, so I veer into the weeds.

This sort of evasive action would become a familiar, prudent necessity during my trip Tuesday across the length of Charleston County, from the Santee River to the Edisto.

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Biking Across Charleston County

Reporter Robert Behre's 90-mile trip across Charleston County by bike offered its share of headaches, but also a big payoff: Lowcountry scenery not often savored by those traveling in cars.

As much as possible, I'm tracing the proposed route for the East Coast Greenway, an urban version of the Appalachian Trail designed

to link the Maine-Canadian border with Key West, Fla.

This ambitious trail project has been in the works for almost two decades, but it's only 25 percent complete.

South Carolina, where the trail hugs the coast, is even more of a work in progress. Only about 11 percent of this state's 296-mile route is done. Tracing its path through Charleston County shows the mixed bag to anyone attempting to travel it today.

The 90-mile odyssey has some true high points -- a shooting star over the Santee Delta; a wild turkey darting across Sewee Road in Awendaw; and cresting the Arthur Ravenel Bridge -- but some things must change before I can recommend it to anyone.

Less than ideal

The sky is packed with stars as I mount my bike at 6 a.m. in front of Hopsewee Plantation, just over the Georgetown County line.

I want an early start so I can bike at a leisurely pace and so I can get past the first rural stretch of U.S. Highway 17 while traffic is light.

The bridges across the Santee River foreshadow what's to come. Driving to Hopsewee to begin, I see a spacious breakdown lane on the northbound bridge.

But when I bike across the older southbound one, there's nowhere to ride but in the lane of the road. Fortunately, the few cars that pass me all get over, and my legs are fresh.

Vonie Gilreath, a planner with the Berkeley-Charleston-Dorchester Council of Governments, is helping develop the state's part of the East Coast Greenway and warned me that this would be bad.

"The ideal situation, especially on your major highways, is to have a separated path," she said.

There's no path here -- nor any imminent plans to build one.

The existing highway has a relatively nice 3-foot-wide paved shoulder around McClellanville, but it comes and goes, and mostly disappears around Awendaw.

I never know when it will change for better or worse.

Getting off the highway

I try to avoid much of 17 by detouring along quieter rural roads, such as South Santee, Doar, Sewee and Old Jacksonboro.

These two-lane roads have no bike lane or paved shoulder, but that's fine because so few cars use them.

My computer map shows it's an 80-mile trip from South Santee to Jacksonboro, but I'm willing to add 10 miles by using these calm, curving roads. I've read the recent report by Alliance for Biking & Walking detailing just how dangerous cycling is here.

Among its findings:

--South Carolina is the second-most-dangerous state in the nation for bicycling, with 20.2 deaths per 10,000 bicyclists. Bicyclists account for almost 2 percent of all traffic fatalities in the state.

--South Carolina, along with West Virginia and Virginia, spend the smallest percentage of funds on bicycle and pedestrian projects among the 50 states. Only 40 cents of each $100 in federal transportation dollars go there.

--South Carolina's relatively low levels of bicycling likely contribute to the percent of its population that's overweight (65 percent) or obese (29 percent).

--The state ranks 44th in the number of bike commuters.

Rachael Kefalos, director of the Palmetto Cycling Coalition, said the study has another confounding fact: About 90 percent of the state's bike riders are male.

"Maybe it's a strong indication that South Carolina has a long way to go to become a bike-friendly state," she said. "The biggest challenge on my end is: Where do we go from here?"

Connecting the dots

Upon seeing Wando High School, I feel a sense of relief because I now can travel quieter Mount Pleasant streets, such as Porchers Bluff and Rifle Range roads.

The Isle of Palms connector and the beach roads are fine too.

Five years ago, the Arthur Ravenel Bridge opened with a 12-foot-wide bike and pedestrian lane that made my trip possible. It has a few of the only East Coast Greenway signs I'll see.

Tom Bradford, acting director of the nonprofit cycling advocacy group Charleston Moves, said the Ravenel Bridge is great, but the cycling community has been slow to build on that success. Many still drive to the base of the bridge to walk or bike it.

Meanwhile, the new Ben Sawyer Bridge has a wider sidewalk than the old one, but it's only 5 feet wide. I have to dismount and walk my bike around a construction worker.

"It really displeases us enormously at the moment," Bradford said of the new Ben Sawyer Bridge. Not only isn't there enough room for cyclists and pedestrians to pass safely, but the sidewalk is raised 10 inches off the road, so any cyclist who veers off it may tumble into traffic.

I find the new Ben Sawyer Bridge no more bike-friendly than the Ashley River Memorial Bridge, which was built in the 1920s.

To keep the pressure on, and to encourage better connections between communities, Bradford said Charleston Moves is pushing the concept of a "Battery to the Beach Route."

This effort, inspired in part by a recent Clemson Architecture Center study examining local cycling issues, is an effort urging six municipalities to build a safe, 23-mile-long bike path connecting the Isle of Palms with Folly Beach via Sullivan's Island, Mount Pleasant, downtown Charleston and James Island. Bradford is optimistic.

"People are really getting it," he said. "While we might have been lone voices in the past, we're now part of a much broader conversation."

West Ashley Greenway

I bike around The Battery and across the Ashley River Memorial Bridge to reach a friendly stretch for cyclists -- at least those with thick tires.

I bike onto an abandoned railroad bed long ago converted into a series of paths known as the West Ashley Greenway.

This path parallels Savannah Highway for eight miles, cutting through backyards, utility corridors and farmland, while regularly crossing suburban feeder roads.

The West Ashley Greenway is one of the best sections of the East Coast Greenway, but even it has room for improvement. Its gravel and packed-dirt paths can be a slog, especially after a rain.

Charleston Parks Director Matt Compton biked the Greenway for the first time last year, "and it opened up my eyes to a lot of things."

Next month, Compton said the city plans to unveil a $4.5 million plan for improving this space by adding new parks and docks and paving the trail so it's friendlier to cyclists, skaters and people in wheelchairs.

While the city plans to invest in the greenway and in a new bike and pedestrian path over the Ashley River, the county's plans for making connections aren't as firm.

Chuck Flink, chairman of the East Coast Greenway Advisory Board, also served as the consultant for Charleston County's Greenbelt plan.

Flink said the county's greenbelt work with millions of dollars of half-cent sales tax money has been a success, though he agreed its emphasis has been on preserving rural land, not on linking communities through new paths and linear parks.

"My point to the Greenbelt board was, 'Look, there are other tools in the tool belt that y'all aren't touching, like the East Coast Greenway,' " he said. "Maybe I made it too subtly."

Finishing up

Once the West Ashley Greenway ends near Main Road, the picture gets grimmer.

This section of Highway 17 South isn't built much different than the rural section just outside Mount Pleasant, but there's more traffic, more soreness in my legs and more dread about jostling with 65 mph traffic.

Even the white stripe along the highway's edge has regular lumps, presumably to warn motorists that they're veering off the road.

For me, they just make a rough ride rougher. I continue to veer off the asphalt onto the soft, grassy shoulders, which recent rains made even softer.

The litter is heavier here too, including reminders of the road's danger -- scattered bits of a broken grill, a few hubcaps and a windshield, shattered but still in one piece.

As I struggle along this section, I realize an upside: Never once have I sensed any road rage.

Most everyone steers clear around me. No one honks, shouts or throws anything, not even when I'm hogging all of Old Jacksonboro Road. I think I'm hearing spring peepers but soon realize a poorly tuned pick-up truck is on my tail.

There were 90 pedestrians and 13 cyclists killed on South Carolina roads last year, according to the S.C. Department of Public Safety.

Of those, 70 pedestrians and nine cyclists were deemed at fault for not following the rules of the road.

I did my best to follow the rules, and so did the drivers whizzing by me. I won't remember the close calls as much as the bright and elaborate lights of a McClellanville home before dawn or the cattle grazing outside Ravenel.

Flink said the South as a whole, not just South Carolina and Charleston County, has been late to the game as far as developing the East Coast Greenway. The region's shared challenges include more rural terrain, more private ownership and more mileage to cover.

But as I learned firsthand on my 10 1/2-hour ride, the potential here is greater than the obstacles.

"People from the Northeast who have traveled the route, some of their fondest memories are traveling the southern states because it's a breath of fresh air," Flink said. "It's a different landscape."

Reach Robert Behre at rbehre@postandcourier.com or 937-5771.