Moments later you enter a rock cut, round a curve and break out into a marshy meadow open to the sky. A few stubbles of drowned trees poke up here and there. Forested hills surround the area. Just off to the right a series of terraced beaver ponds reflect a distant peak. Early summer blossoms lend color to the view. Across the pond a pair of loons swim with purpose near the far shore. Overhead the sun is bright; the air is calm. Insects hum in the stillness. You ride along savoring the heady fragrances of this postcard place. The soft sweet scent of wildflowers lingers in the air. Your nose then catches the pungent odor of mud and decaying vegetation as you pass a corrupted beaver dam. Further on you catch a whiff of evergreen as the forest moves in on one side. You turn to catch a sudden splash ten feet away. Plunging from a rock, a giant snapping turtle leaves a growing circle on the pond.

Riding alone, or in the company of others, this might describe a small part of an unforgettable day railbiking in the Adirondacks.

I live with my wife Sudjai, and son David, in the remote, heavily forested Adirondack mountains of northern New York State. Our home is back in the woods, well off the beaten path on a beautiful, sparsely populated lake.

Most of my life, except when in the Army back during the Vietnam era, I have been self-employed. I design low cost superinsulated homes, and have worked on energy efficient building technology for more than 25 years. I manufacture ski and snowshoe bindings for wilderness use. My portfolio contains a bundle of US and Canadian patents in a variety of fields. I give talks on environment, energy, and alternative technology. And, I write and publish books and software. My wife weaves birchbark, and writes books. On the side, we have a few lakeside cottages we rent during the summer.

I tell you all this to quell any suspicions that railbikers have one track minds.

I grew up on this land surrounded by forests and fields, lakes and mountains. And, oh yes, a RAILROAD TRACK in my front yard. Don't get me wrong. Back when I was a youngster, I didn't miss out on swimming, boating, and canoeing. And I climbed Mount Arab, our own local mountain, more times than you could ever count. But, that railroad track was a real fascination.

When I was in grade school the old coal fired steam trains ran pretty regular. My mother would get so mad when the soot soiled her whites hanging on the line. My brother and sisters and I would go out front and stand on the big rock near the track. As the daily train came by, we would all wave to the engineer and anyone else on board. Then we would run over to the crossing and look for our squashed pennies. One time I even rode the train to Utica, and on to NY city. My dad had to flag it down at the little station up the road.

The years passed. Roads were better, more people had cars, and passenger service gradually dried up. Freight service went the same way a few years later, and the trains stopped running.

Please understand. I loved my wilderness surroundings, and still do. However, I also had a love for designing and building all kinds of gadgets. Those railroad tracks out front were just sitting there growing rusty and weedy. I couldn't let a resource like that go to waste.

I built my first railbike in the late 50's. The only time I've ever had to abort a mission, and pull my bike off the track was back on that first railbike. The NY Central still took a bit of interest in the line. I had to get out of the way of a highrailer full of suited railroad officials. They looked at me and I looked at them. They slowed down, and my heart sped up, but they never stopped.

My favorite railroad is, of course, the one going past my home. I have traveled this route many times. Each trip is a fresh adventure. In spring everything is coming alive. Summer brings rampant growth here in the east that can almost bury an abandoned track. Wildlife appears as curious about the strange sight coming down the track as most people. I had a deer amble out of my way, then, a hundred yards down the track, I looked back. That deer had returned to watch me as I rode away. In fall, the colors, and their reflection in the many lakes and ponds, is overpowering.

Railbikes are self-steering. You are free to look around and enjoy. Those iron rails winding off into the distant unknown can provide hours of delightful excursion. They often lead through wilds unexplored by most. You set your own pace so you have plenty of time to soak up the scenery.

There is something about riding a railbike that is quite unlike merely riding a bicycle. I have been building and riding railbikes for a long time, and love it. My wife and my father love it. All my friends love it. What makes RAILBIKING so much fun?

I am only making a guess, but maybe this is it. Active travel requires a level of steady concentration. The intensity will vary, low for taking a stroll, high when white knuckle driving on an icy freeway during the rush hour. For novice railbikers there is usually a short break-in period, though I really shouldn't use the word 'break'. After that, railbiking calls for a VERY low IQ. (IQ means intensity quotient, naturally.)

Then again, maybe the fun just comes from doing something wild, not done by many others.

All of this is not to say railbiking is without mishap. In fact, that may be part of the allure. Railbikes are mechanical contraptions. Parts come loose, fall off, or break, as is their nature. You should keep your bike in good shape, and check it out before taking off. It is a good idea to carry along a few tools and materials for emergency repairs.

Railbikes can 'derail'. This is railbike talk for "the blankity-blank bike came off the track." My wife's sister became so entranced looking at autumn leaves she leaned away from the outrigger. In slow motion, she fell into the bushes and scratched herself on a spruce stubble. She had a silly grin when we helped her up. No trip to the emergency room, but she did feel a bit foolish. Stay aware of what you are doing, particularly on bad track and sharp curves.

Many situations can cause derailments. Small trees and bushes growing close to the rail can snag your foot, jerking the bike off the track. Sometimes a sudden stop will make the rear wheel skid right off the rail. When you derail like this, your bike usually bounces along on the ties. You quickly come to an ungraceful stop. In any case, it's all part of the adventure.

Misadventures aside, (or perhaps, included) railbiking is an outstanding natural high. It is even better when you have a reliable railbike. That first railbike I built was pretty crude, and worked about as well. Later designs became better and better. The evolution of my railbike came out of my own head and experience. This was partly due to living in the sticks. And, until recently, I never came across any info on the subject. I heard vague rumors, and saw a few magazine articles about turn-of-the-century railbikes. I found no details, or references to current designs. Since publishing my design, I have discovered a world of other railbikers.

You probably don't want to reinvent the wheel. The quickest way to a happy experience is to pick a railbike design with a history of success, and go with it.

Naturally, I lean toward my own very successful design which you will find advertised within these pages. No welding is necessary. My front wheel guide makes use of side rollers. This gives you precision steering, minimal friction, and almost no noise. I use a simple handlebar lever to raise the guide slightly for crossings, or full up for normal bicycle riding. My adjustable height outrigger is an extremely rigid geometric design that is simple and lightweight. The outrigger has excellent ground clearance to avoid brush. Pull 3 pins, and the outrigger comes completely off and folds.

Look over the field. Pick a design from someone who has been doing this a few years. It should also be a design that is within your capacity to build.

Whether you're a newcomer or a pro, keep your guide on the rail and a grin on your face. Perhaps one of these days we'll run into each other on some deserted stretch of railroad track.