Tony Benedict, right, pedals four pedestrians home from a night of partying Friday from Albert Avenue.

Wearing a black leather jacket reminiscent of Johnny Ramone, well-manicured facial hair and a big grin, Tony Benedict, owner of Pure Power Pedicab, is East Lansing’s one and only bicycle taxi.

Benedict, an East Lansing resident and former paramedic, has been serving the East Lansing community since November 2008 with his human-powered mode of transportation.

“I go completely on tips, and I do that because I don’t want to set a set rate,” Benedict said. “Some people just want a ride and they really don’t have a lot of money. I figure everyone should have a ride if they just want to go home and they don’t live too far away.”

On average, Benedict said he is tipped $5-$6 for rides that average about a quarter mile, although a particularly generous customer once gave him $100.

Benedict operates his taxi Thursday through Saturday, starting around midnight. On any given night, he’ll give 20-40 rides with two or three people riding in his cab at a time.

Aimee Ryder, an interdisciplinary studies in social science and human resources and society senior, rode in the pedicab for the first time this winter.

“It was something I always wanted to do before I graduated,” she said, “We had left from the bar, Rick’s (American Café). We were going to our house.”

Ryder said the blanket Benedict includes in the cab to keep passengers warm and his willingness to take photos of her and her friends made the ride that much better.

Benedict’s relationship with bicycles began when his truck was destroyed and he began using a bicycle as a primary mode of transportation. This, he said, was when he realized the power of bicycles.

For Benedict, his pedicab is more than a job — it also is a way to demonstrate his desire to reduce dependence on automobiles and congestion.

“I am doing it kind of for the money, but not really,” Benedict said. “It’s just very enjoyable, meeting new people and if they enjoy the ride and if these things can grow, that’s what I’m looking for — like something where I can contribute to East Lansing a little bit.”

Benedict’s pedicab weighs in at 185 pounds. The giant tricycle can hold three passengers, has 21 gears, disc breaks, turning signals and brake lights. Brandished on the back of the pedicab’s chassis is a painting of a tiger, a symbol that Benedict chose, he said, because “it gives it strength.”

Benedict sees the future of pedicabs and that of the East Lansing and MSU communities as intertwined. Aside from being environmentally friendly, to Benedict, bicycle taxis could contribute to the area’s “flavor.”

“I do know MSU and East Lansing are definitely looking for new ways to stimulate the city as well,” Benedict said. “This would just be something to help stimulate a little of it. Give it something new, something different.”

The bride stood out against the backdrop of Central Park: The temperature was in the 50s, yet she had nothing more on her torso than a lace bustier. Below, her dress was as voluminous as an inflated parachute, dragging as she hobbled along the path. I was gliding along comfortably in the back of a pedicab, with plenty of room next to me on the seat. So I offered her a lift.

The look she gave me was not gratitude. After a few more friendly entreaties, the groom caught up to us. “She doesn’t want to,” he said. With that, they turned off the path and she hobbled onward, juggling various hems.

I was stunned. Did she just reject my chivalrous offer? Could I possibly look that weird? Then I thought: Oh wait, she’s seen the video.

If you have not caught it on YouTube or the evening news, the video shows a pedicab driver getting into a brawl with a taxi driver on Broadway, and it has given pedicabs — already viewed as suspect — an unwelcome moment in the spotlight. In June, one got into an accident after crossing the Williamsburg Bridge into Brooklyn, where pedicabs are not allowed in the first place. By the time a Fox 5 cameraman caught the pedicab driver hurling a garbage can at the taxi driver, the whole fleet was in for a whupping.

Now the City Council has passed a law requiring all pedicabs — there’s no reliable figure for how many are on the road — to be inspected and registered by Nov. 20. “Pedicabs have been for too long acting like they rule the streets ahead of any other mode of transportation,” City Councilman Leroy G. Comrie Jr. told The New York Post.

Having never thought to ride one — any more than one of those ridiculous party bikes (which probably are fun if you’re drunk enough to get on) — I had to wonder, could pedicabs really be that bad? Worse even than buses, the oblivious, lumbering bullies of the city streets? So I spent a few days being driven around on three wheels, and even on occasion taking the handlebars myself. Let’s just say I do better in the back than in the front.

The drivers who congregate at 58th Street and Seventh Avenue said they were delighted someone was finally going to regulate their business. They take their jobs seriously, and say people who don’t should be kept off the road.

Bernard Treanor, a driver for six years, has an impeccable pedigree: He trained with George Bliss, an industrial designer, who started one of the city’s first pedicab companies in 1995. “We were all actors and musicians,” said Mr. Treanor, who recently appeared in an independent film and is writing a novel about Central Park. “We needed to do this so we could hit our auditions.”

Today, many drivers are recent immigrants who rent pedicabs by the week (around $200 in summer, as low as $80 in January). Before, “the only thing in these guys’ way was maybe, like, a random goat,” he said. “And now they’re guiding a family through Times Square?” It’s turning police officers, who used to cheer him on, into enemies, he said.

I felt a little silly the first time I climbed into the back seat, but despite the autumn chill I warmed to it quickly. As with riding a bicycle, you see things at that pace that you can’t see from a car, and you get to put your feet up in a way you obviously can’t while walking. If your driver is full of interesting historical information, great, sit back and learn. If not, tell him to shut up (but apologize with a tip).

After a few rides, I persuaded a driver to let me try. It’s hard to keep the wheel straight, and during turns I kept thinking it was going to tip over, as a bicycle might. (A girly shriek ensued.) Of course there’s almost no way to tip over: the vehicles are solidly balanced on three wheels, with a lot of ballast keeping them that way. Especially if your driver hops in the back, as mine eventually did, then invites his friend in, too. By that point I was laughing too hard to go very far. I got no tip.

More seriously, it’s about as green a conveyance as anyone is ever going to find. But what do the tourists who typically ride them care about keeping our streets and our air clear? Perhaps, I started to think, pedicabs are being wasted on their passengers — and perhaps that is part of the reason they’re largely reviled. What if New Yorkers exercised eminent domain and reclaimed these overgrown tricycles for our own daily use?

To lead the way, I tried hiring a pedicab to run a few errands: dry cleaning, deli, the basics. Fine. But when I thought about visiting Aunt Frances at Mount Sinai Hospital, I found that at about $1 per minute or per block, what would be $15 in a taxi would be a trip to the A.T.M. in a pedicab. Fail.

I turned to Mr. Bliss for guidance. “The goal when I started this was that the pedicabs would actually be less money than a yellow cab,” he said.

He began that experiment downtown, where he thought people would be open to the idea, but he found they were too self-conscious to ride in a pedicab. It worked for a while in Midtown, but today, he said, sounding melancholy to the point of despair, the dream is dead.

“The pedicab industry itself became self-marginalizing,” he said. “It became more and more tourist oriented, less transportation oriented. We need drivers who are educated, fluent in languages. They need to be ambassadors to the city.”

We also need stricter regulation of the fleet, he said, and electric-assisted pedicabs — which he developed with a state grant, but the city does not allow. In short, we need the city to decide that a fleet of law-abiding, low-cost vehicles that consume no gas, is in everyone’s interest.

Take that to its logical conclusion and you get people commuting by rickshaw, exchanging newspaper sections with the guy in the next lane at a red light. Kids picked up after school by a parent on three wheels who has already stopped for groceries. A bride in Central Park accepting a lift from a pushy but well-meaning stranger. Wouldn’t you like to live in that city?

It seems a lot of people would say no.

In 2007, a city councilman was quoted in the Village Voice saying that pedicabs caused pollution by increasing congestion. Perhaps he’s right; perhaps pedicabs and cars cannot coexist in Manhattan. Maybe it’s not safe to have three wheels darting in and out of four-wheel traffic. Maybe the time has come to make a change. How about we get rid of the cars?

DENVER — Owners of bicycle rickshaws, already a popular way of getting about downtown Denver, are seizing on the Democratic National Convention as a chance to showcase their human-powered taxis as more than just a novelty.

Steve Meyer, owner of one of Denver’s largest fleets of pedicabs and a manufacturer of the vehicles, wants the convention’s national audience to see bike taxis as a dynamic part of the urban fabric and the ultimate in green transportation.

“People see pedicabs as like a horse-drawn carriage, sitting there on the curb for our amusement. We want people to see them in a new light, as a fundamental mode of transportation,” said Mr. Meyer, whose Mile High Pedicabs boasts a 40-vehicle fleet.

Bike-pedaled rickshaws took off in the U.S. scene in the early 1990s, in large part due to Mr. Meyer’s promotion. He got them recognized early on as part of the mix in revitalizing Denver’s downtown pedestrian mall.

Mr. Meyer makes bike taxis in his Broomfield, Colo., factory, selling 3,000 in the last 15 years to buyers across the country. The biggest markets include New York, San Diego, Austin, Texas, and Miami. Mr. Meyer says he hopes greater exposure during the convention will translate to bigger business.

Pedicabs, which weigh about 200 pounds empty, can take passengers as far as several miles, but most runs are two to 10 blocks — often too short for a conventional cab, and for pedestrians encumbered by packages, ill health or alcohol, too long to walk. Most rickshaw buggies seat two, though sometimes four or five passengers squeeze in.

To make the most of the national spotlight, pedicab drivers in Denver have been in special training for weeks. Drivers are generally independent contractors, paying by the day or month to lease the rickshaws and pocketing fares.

Some drivers charge by distance; in Denver, the maximum fee is $2 a block. Others work strictly for tips. On a great night, a driver with strong legs and a winning personality may walk away with as much as $700. It’s not unusual, even on a slower night, to net $30 an hour.

For as long as his legs hold out, Matt Chimes will ferry convention crowds around the city this week on a sturdy tricycle. Mr. Chimes, 23 years old, can pull 800 pounds. In an effort to boost his endurance, he’s loaded up on $100 of supplements, which he says he’s been told help muscles recover quickly.

He’s mapped out a special diet to deliver the 8,000 daily calories he estimates he’ll need; he calls it “eating Michael Phelps style,” after the Olympic champion. And he’s socked away electrolyte gel capsules for quick bursts of energy.

Greg Duran, who runs 27 pedicabs under the name Colorado Rickshaw, held a recent preconvention boot camp for novice drivers eager for the promise of fast cash, and the chance to see a historic political convention up close.

Mr. Duran had the drivers run an obstacle course of narrow passages and tight turns. Teri Robnett, his wife and co-owner, gestured at the maze of plywood and orange traffic cones. “That’s not just a cone,” she said. “That could be a pedestrian’s toes.”

Just then, trainee Mark Roberts, 26, swerved and crunched over the cone. Gamely, he tried again, this time smashing into a flatbed trailer parked on the far side of the lot. Mr. Duran shook his head. “It’s scary,” he whispered. “It’s like sending your kids out on the highway.”

After an hour of parking-lot drills, Mr. Duran deemed everyone ready to hit the road for a test run. They pulled out into the night, cycling past homeless women dragging plastic bags, nightclub hoppers and conventional taxi drivers.

Jake Bradney, a veteran driver, rode in a buggy, standing up now and then to shout out information about local landmarks. These new drivers are now his competition during the convention. But Mr. Bradney, 28, is feeling good. He’s been training on his mountain bike and carbo-loading with “lots and lots of pasta.” He’s perfected his come-on pitch: “I’m air-conditioned! I’m super fast! I smell slightly better than a horse!”

And he’s got the convention clientele figured out. “I think the lobbyists are going to be good tippers,” he said. “I’m not so sure about the Democrats.”

Write to Stephanie Simon at stephanie.simon@wsj.com