What does the layman observe when he sees a cyclist in the wild? While we do our utmost to Look Fantastic, in our own eyes and minds at least, outside observers may as well be witnessing little green aliens who’ve just stepped off their spacecraft and are heading to their very first fancy dress/drag party on this weird and wonderful planet called Earth. We go to great lengths to carefully match our kit, keep our shoes clean, make sure we are smooth and hairless, tanned, toned and terrific. We check the mirror as we’re leaving the house and see Merckx or De Vlaeminck looking back at us, hair slicked back and perfect sideburns. We see the brown skin and lean, lithe body of Contador or Nibali. Others may be greeted with a reflected visage of a Thor, Tommeke or Spartacus if more on the ‘Classics’ scale of the cyclist’s BMI. We see greatness, a fine example of athleticism and presentation, bound to turn heads and elicit breathless epithets as we glide easily by.
What the man in the street sees is a twat. And he probably has a point.
You’re out for lunch or coffee and witness a bunch of podgy, balding, pale middle-aged men ride up, awkwardly dismount then stand in the coffee queue while dripping sweat, smelling like a deceased polecat and talking loudly about how they “got spat out the ass” or “took a huge pull until I blew”. Your first reaction would probably be to grab your children, or anyone’s children, by the arm and quickly vacate the premises, protecting their eyes and ears from the freaks in tights and ballet shoes standing in their own puddle, oblivious to the small piece of snot perched on their crusted, bristly upper lip. The poor student behind the counter notices it though, and does his best to stifle a dry retch as he takes the Amex card from the increasingly crimson-faced road warrior. The clip-clop of his ridiculous yellow, red and silver shoes resonates on the tile floor, now glistening with salty accountant discharge, filling the remaining patrons with hope that there may be a fall coming… not bad enough that said patrons may have to actually help the stricken fellow who appears to work for SkyTV, but just enough so that there’s some major bruising to the ego of the whiffy real estate agent who apparently has recently returned from a trip to Kazhakstan.
This may all seem far-fetched, but it’s how myself and other Cyclists are perceived every day, from whichever side of the fence one may be positioned. No matter how good a Cyclist looks, or thinks they look, we still come off as tossers by the very nature of our sport’s equipment and apparel requirements. But try telling your 45 year old colleagues that it’s all for performance and you’ll be rightly met with a comment of the ilk of “what, are ya racing the farkin Tooer dee Fraaance or sumfin, are ya?” Once again, they may have a point.
Why can’t a serious cyclist wear less revealing and body-hugging attire, even if not racing? Why not a pair of shoes in which we can walk like a normal person, rather than a duck with a gammy leg, if we know we’ll be making a coffee stop before and probably after the ride? Do we really need to be pushing our spuds to the side of the plate and adjusting ourselves in full view of the Sunday brunch crowd who only want a sausage in their mixed grill, not in their faces? Why can’t we just be more normal?
Because it doesn’t make us feel Pro or remotely Fantastic, that’s why. It doesn’t make us feel like we are Cyclists. The same reasons weekend rugby players don’t wear their jeans and hoodies onto the pitch, even if that’s their uniform off it. But face the truth… we are average men, with average talents and average ambitions (if any), despite the possibility that your talents and ambitions are at a level above most of your other average cronies. We can, and should, do our best to look good when we ride our bicycles. But remember, no matter how good we think we look, we don’t. Especially in cafes and pubs.
Here’s my tips for a successful coffee/beer ride with minimum twat factor:
1. Go for a ride.
2. Don’t dismount anywhere, ever.
3. Go home.
4. Showered? Changed? Now you can go to the pub.
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Spot on, fellah. Had me rolling in the aisles.
Brill. Lucky I wasn't drinking my coffee.
I do have a route with a jolly decent coffee and cake stop run by some charming elderly ladies. Good coffee and fabulous cakes and very cyclist friendly. However, when you place your order at the counter they always seem to ask "Will you be sitting outside" in that way that is more of a statement than a question.....
@Teocalli Ah yes, when they put the stress on the first syllable of 'outside'...
Loved it as much as I agree with it! Why wreck you cleats?
This is awesome! Exactly how I think we are perceived. Would never wear kit to a pub, but no option on a mid ride coffee stop on a leisurely ride. Am mindful of fellow patrons though, I often remove my clip cloppers and stroll around in socks to order, then sit outside.
Absolutely bang on as I laugh out loud. Around cyclists and cycling I'm at ease, comfortable and proud of how I've tried to turn myself and machine out (especially in what precious V kit I have).
In any other environment, except perhaps the rural cafe that is happy of the regular custom and know you are actually not a skinny alien, I'm like the proverbial fish and am positive that the rope like vein on the back of my right calf is drawing equal sniggers and revulsion as I clip clop about.
All planned cycle borne visits to shops is done in generally baggy but discrete and less obvious riding gear, no helmet and spd shoes. Never lycra in the pub. Here I'd be claimed within minutes.
Great treatise and sadly quite true in as far as the public's perspective of us. The contrary argument though: what the fuck do they know?
I will happily comply with your requests when the general public is looking equally fantastic when out and about. Until then, the great unwashed masses will need an ongoing education in the ways of the V (at least those dedicated to our appearances) and since they typically know dick about cycling I propose a slightly different tact:
1. Prior to entering a cafe/pub/etc take the time to make yourself presentable. Laying down the V has a way of disrupting one'a appearance when stationery. Perhaps use the mirror of the goober who hitched onto the pace line without asking (use the opportunity to disable said mirror).
2. Remove your shoes or use cafe tabs (lest you damage your cleets).
3. Always be polite and refrain from speaking loudly, unless you are speaking Italian. If able to speak French, then subtle snobbery is acceptable.
4. If you use chamois cream, then place a magazine or something else on the chair. That stuff leaves a mark and will sully the next poor soul's backside.
5. Tip well.
That last one solves many issues.
Brilliant piece by the Peloton but FFS @brett, what the hell is up with the road scene down your way if that's what you're witnessing on a regular basis?? I'm with @Ccos
I'll make a couple of additional grand statements here:
We are cyclists. The rest of the world merely rides a bike.
@Ccos tip well and make an effort to not plop down next to other patrons. I live about 5 km from my favorite brewery in town and have regularly stopped off in full kit on the way in from a long ride. Luckily the bar staff all know me so they put up with me using only a tasteful minimum of fun making. Then I find a spot outside so no one has to smell me. Doesn't eliminate hairy eyeballs from other folks but it does reduce them significantly.
But brunch? FFS I'm taking a shower first. Isn't there some rule or another banning the consumption of mimosas in kit?
What if I'm a skinny old f*ck and my kit sags like en empty bean bag chair...and I am wearing Crocs? What then, a little less frappe in the chino? Hit the do-nut shop for a day old and a regular coffee.