It is less than a week from the longest night of the year for us lucky cyclists in the Northern hemisphere. Articles about lighting systems and losing form are what we cough up. @Strathlubnaig has even shorter days than most of us, works at sea, gets out on the bike and writes about it. Rule #9 or not, when is it ever a bad idea to ride a bike?
VLVV, Gianni
Two weeks offshore, trying to save an oilfield. I return to the beach and try to remember where I parked the car. Driving home I notice not much has changed since I left except there are even less leaves on the trees, more mud on the roads, it gets lighter later and darker earlier.
I arrive home in the dark, but my thoughts turn to The Bike. I check the forecast, and the following day is to be commuter chaos they say, windy and torrential rain, more floods they say.
Perfect day for a bike ride then.
In the morning it takes forever to get light. It is bad enough at 56.5 North at this time of year, but the Great Cloud Belt which can seem to perpetually hang over us like some Biblical Punishment makes it seem worse. In fact, it is worse.
I pull open the closet door under the stair where my kit lives. I pull out some bibs and a jersey, then look at the twilight-like conditions and change the jersey for a slightly brighter colour. Safety first. The kit is clean and laundered, it smells fresh and hopeful, full of optimism. It is around 8 degrees out, so a merino undershirt goes on too, and a pair of Ron Hills over the top of the guns.
I dig out the spare tubes and the little tool kit and slip them in my back pockets; tubes in the right, tool in the centre, phone in the left. Out the door I go and into the garage where The Bike sits, waiting patiently and stoically like a loyal Edinburgh terrier, unmoved and untouched for two weeks. The small meter still has the last ride on screen. That seems like an age ago. Using the track pump I check the tyres and stick a bit of wind in. I spin the pedals and the chain flows through the cogs smoothly and silently. All is in order. Helmet and glasses on, I wheel her out and down the drive, clip in and away. How will my legs be, I wonder. Two weeks of gym bike on the rig, not the same at all.
There is a fine feeling of comfort and joy. It is raining, the sky is sombre and low clouds scud across our nearby mountains, pregnant with more rain. Bring it on. Down the road and I head off the long straight which leads to the first climb. My mind slips deftly like the gear changes into ride mode. Work issues, family troubles, general worries and other concerns always exist but for the next two hours such things will be dulled and even forgotten. Riding The Bike is like codeine and I am grateful to be back.
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@the Engine
The half of Arbroath who had the Ron Hills were the hard as nails Royal Marines from Condor. "Got me Ron Hills, got me Reeboks..." The others wi the ferret pelts were those who scrapped with RM Condors finest on the West Port of a weekend. It's a much calmer place all round now, gone thru the shell suit phase and the only difference is the look in the eyes of a young marine who has done 2 tours in Helmand and seen more things than any young lad should have to experience.
Anyway, nice piece @strathlubnaig, sums up many of my winter early morning commutes, 57k round trip, both directions in the dark, using the solitude and lack of a horizon to stop thing about work and all the other ills in this world.
Thoughts today with the affected families of Newtown, Connecticut and the 2 crappy court verdicts for cyclists being killed by dangerous drivers.
@JohnB A'Merckx
Lovely piece of writing and fantastic article photo.Cheers.
Good time of year to remember that cycling offers us solace.
Nice one, strathlubnaig! Nothing like that first ride after a bit off the bike. I usually have a fear creep in - how are the Guns? Will I still know how to shift? Can I do this? And then it all disappears.
Yup, a ride, any ride, is really a curative for most things! Hey, who knows how to cure the last screw stuck in the Crank Brothers cleat on my right cross shoe? Hex head it turned round, am able to turn the cleat all the way around, screw won't move. I'm thinking drilling it out is the next option?
And when I do finally get it out - what should I use for anti-seize? Is Park Tool lube good enough? Or do I need something special.
JohnB - just saw that news. I was at a candle vigil for non-violence last night. A local restauranteur was shot & killed last Thursday behind his building. My VMH had been in there just hours before. The gentleman was just 50, had a wife and four children, and was originally from Pakistan. Traveling all that way to die in a dark alley from a bullet. His 15 year old son gave an impassioned speech about the misinterpretation/application/heist of the Second Amendment. What a worthless loss of a life.
Start anew. Better self, service, and cycling. Yeah!
while rig bikes are usually crappy and stuffed away in the bowels of the accommodation in the living hell that is the room about the mud pumps, at least they are the nemesis of the evil that is rig food, definitely a sure way to being too fat to climb. At least it beats running around the bloody helideck
Thanks. I've been undergoing an extended period of bike ennui in these dark times. Helps.
@JohnB
Aye A'Merckx also - we live in dark times sometimes
Beautiful and timely. Thank you.