Aside from wheels staying in one piece and the frame holding together, the thing we take most for granted when riding a bike is how our bodies instinctively respond to and absorb bumps. The human body is, in fact, an incredible shock-absorber; our arms and legs are capable of flexing and shifting in ways that no mechanical suspension is capable of and reacts at near-instantaneous speed to the intelligence streaming in from the ocular system. Remove the power of sight from the equation and the effect is staggering.
My first encounter with night riding was during a 24-hour mountainbike race in Minnesota. Until that race, I had taken care to always ride during the day, partly because I couldn’t afford a reasonable headlight and partly because I could always arrange my training to take place during daylight. A 24-hour race, however, held distinct implications for nighttime riding.
I never bothered practicing riding at night, and I didn’t bother with buying a proper headlamp. Instead, I recommissioned my semi-reliable headlight which I used for nordic ski training in the dark winter months. The week before had also seen the decommissioning of my first-generation Rock Shox which had always graced the front-end of my beloved Schwinn mountainbike, made of what I assume were sand-filled tubes. I didn’t maintain the shock the way a shock should be maintained, and with its death came the rebirth of the fixed fork that had originally steered the machine.
I don’t need to go into detail on the race, but suffice to say that my headlamp stopped functioning within minutes on the first nighttime lap and that I rode the remainder of the race by the light of the moon and my insufficient instincts. Climbing was unpleasant, flats were uncomfortable, and descents were a blend of suicide and anarchy. Each bump the front wheel found blew through my unprepared arms and cascaded through my body, usually focussed on the saddle which ungracefully found its way to my crotch whether I was sitting on it at the time or not.
With this induction into the dark art of night riding, it has been something I’ve typically done with some reluctance. In other words, I’ve avoided it like the plague. Living in Seattle and having the privilege of a fulltime job does have certain ramifications on riding in daylight hours in Winter; namely that it isn’t possible. With the introduction of a good headlight comes the surreal solidarity of riding cocooned in a cone of light. The shorted line of sight together with the elimination of one’s peripheral vision has an inexplicable calming effect despite the sense that you can’t properly judge the bumps in the road as your headlight briefly illuminates them, and that every puddle looks like a small lake whose depth cannot be judged until you’re on top of it.
I’ve ridden with a Mammut Zoom headlamp and a Lezyne Super Drive, both of which served the purpose of making nighttime riding slightly less terrifying. But with my new 45km commute, I moved to the Lezyne Mega Drive, which is basically a car headlight refactored to fit on a handlebar. I heard that the lights in small villages dim when I turn it to full power and I’ve noticed that deer come running towards it when I ride by with the mistaken belief that it signals the arrival of a deity.
Never one for half-measures, I still mount the Super Drive on the helmet and the Mega Drive on the bars; its like riding with the Eye of Sauron on your bike. Oh, and I have three different red flashers on the back of the bike and another white flasher on the front. You know, just in case.
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All of this talk about riding in the dark has me itchin'...to get up early as tomorrow & get in an hour of cross riding before sitting in the car to head north for some family turkey time.
Going to definitely be dark but now I'm excited to pull out my good headlight, which I haven't used in a few weeks.
good recommendation on the Lezyne lite, heading there to check it out myself
i have built my own lights, bought cheap ones, and bought cheap ones, with the best one being the one I made myself. The kicker though is they all poop out and are less reliable than one deserves
so, its time to pony up
truth is, the light that matters the most to me is the one donned on the rear end so i don't get slammed from behind
Heh, 3 rear lights, cars must think you're an Unidentified Flandrian Object....
I run 2 x 1W on front and a Planetbike Superflash clone and 3 LED Cat eye out back. Be seen lights rather than seeing lights. The fronts are not good enough for 30kph plus at night with no street lights really. I also run one on steady and one on flash each end. especially after reading a report from some RAF pilot saying flashing is very good at getting attention in somenes peripheral vision. The Superflash is an awesome rear light, had people stop me on the commute and mention as much. Annoying to follow, but you want people to notice it so meh...
"Unidentified Flandrian Object" Excellent!
@Beers
UFO - fucking awesome.
On the back, I run the Planet X Superflash Stealth on Seizure, the Lezyne Microdrive Rear on steady, and a Planet X Spok Tail on flash on the helmet.
Definitely overkill, but I'm quite satisfied to continue looking ridiculous in one piece than sensible in several.
I have a bag full of those little Spok lights (both front and rear) which I keep in my daily toolkit from September to May as you never know when you might get into some weather or get delayed enough to enter into the dusk hours. They are so small and light, you hardly know they're there and you can just chuck it on your bike if necessary.
As for the Lezyne stuff, I can't comment on battery life yet, though they easily last my rides to and from work which are 90km in total. On the ride in, at this time of year, the ride is mostly in the light, but the ride home is all in the dark. They also all charge via USB so I can plug them into my computer at work to make sure they make it home with me if I wind up using them more than expected on the ride in.
@Al__S
Good stuff. I've had the same issue with pedestrians on the 200m of common-use trail I have to hit on the ride. And people walking dogs on or off-leash; they just appear out of nowhere, sometimes with a tether between the dog and person. You don't have to be a visionary to imagine the scene of that one going wrong. The Super Drive on the helmet is great, though for looking about for stray objects and animals outside the cone of vision.
With how sensible much of your commentary is here, I have to say I'm absolutely shocked to hear you say there could be such a thing as overkill on a light or that they are rude unless you're off-road. Sure, keep the lights pointed down as much as is reasonable soas not to blind your fellow cyclists and non-fellow motorists, but not only is a high powered light a sensible safety item, but absolutely necessary if you ride anywhere outside the well-lit city streets.
@Buck Rogers
Next time you're on the Pavé, go ahead and close your eyes on one of the secteurs and tell me how it goes!
@MM
I've been riding that 90km commute (round trip) around the north end of Lake Washington between Seattle and Kirkland; its not exactly hilly, but there are several leg-shredders and one climb of a few hundred meteres and several km's in length. The backpack with laptop and clothing certainly adds to the training, it also reminds you why it is exactly that cyclists like to keep their upper bodies night and light.
It will also coach out any component on the bike willing to make a sound.
Less of the lighting system tech fest and more of the cool night ride stories please!
Many years ago my friend Wheels and I were out for a post-work night ride on a beautiful still, crisp, full-moon winter's night. We rode up the steep walking path through Central Park, then headed up Polhill on the road as a sea-mist crept in.
Suddenly, looming out of the murk, appeared a nervous-looking couple who muttered dark warnings at us about a pervert further up the hill dressed as a woman exposing himself to passersby...we proceeded at a slightly increased pace, but despite some odd rustlings and imagined movements we never did see him.
Just as those fears were subsiding we hit the first descent of the night. Still on the sealed road we hit high speed as tried to outpedal each other when, on a sharp left-hander, I saw a possum bolt from the bushes on my right arrowing towards my front wheel - I hit it hard in what looked and felt like the midriff and it rolled under my wheel before vectoring off left in exactly the same trajectory as it had started with, seemingly none the worse for wear. Of course all this happened in a second, just long enough for me to heading straight at the right-hand bank, which I only avoided smashing into by somehow pulling my foot out of the toe-clip (yes, it was that long ago!) and stabbing into the bank as I rapidly decelerated.
With my heart-rate up to maximum and the adrenaline pumping it didn't take me long to catch up with a somewhat non-plussed Wheels, just as we began the main downhill of the night. For anyone who lives in Wellington, the Tip Track is both an infamous super-steep, loose rutted 20-40m climb and a legendary super-steep, loose rutted 10-15m downhill, depending on one's directional choice and one's skill and fitness.
Just as we hit the worst of the sketchy rubble and wheel-swallowing ruts of Satan my light (a BLT, for those of you must know such trivia) battery died in an utter instant. This also coincided with being completely in the lee of the moonlight, so it really couldn't have been much darker. As I had been moving at some speed when the trail was illuminated, it was more by good luck than good management I managed to pull up to a stop just as my front wheel dropped over the edge of a black chasm. I literally sobbed with relief, I don't mind admitting.
Wheels was so far ahead by now he had no idea what had happened to me, so I had to walk most of the rest of the way, apart from brief patches of moonlight, eventually catching up with the by now alarmed Wheels, who was starting to think I must have crashed somewhere up in the dark...the rest of the ride home on the road and footpath was fortunately uneventful, as I counted my blessings that none of the near-misses had had any injurious consequence...
Anyway, that was my first night ride of many, most of which were even relatively unperilous.
My dad sent me in to action with one of these on the lamp bracket on the front fork of my Raleigh Shadow in 1977. It was like cycling with a candle in a horn lamp. The battery (unrechargeable) theoretically lasted for 24 hours (well it only had to light a lamp with the intensity of those they used to use on telephone switchboards) but it would start to brown out after half an hour or so.
The rear right used big torch batteries that you couldn't swap with the front and was equally useless.
Tweed and wool are not reflective at night and there are no reflective strips on brogues either.
At best they were warning lights because you could see fuck all even when they worked (which they often didn't because the contacts would work loose or the bulb would expire). Once they'd gone out you had to try and fix them in the dark - hilarious.
Obviously they bounced off their mounts and self destructed when you went over cobbles too.
Two planet bike superflashes on the back for me--one red, the other clear--and a 1200 lumen magicshine mounted on the bars, and I'm good to go. That setup has lasted me two and a half years so far. I know the magicshines have had some issues, but apart from the battery pack needing replacement, mine has held up well. I strap some reflective velcro around my ankles, too, so that there's some reflective movement in the headlights, as well (I know, rule violations galore).
My only close call in the dark was last year during gun-deer season, when a ten point buck flew out of nowhere less than five meters in front of me. I'll never forget the sound of his hooves clacking on the pavement. I always thought it was odd how he just appeared going full speed from the roadside brush with nary a sound to warn me of his presence.
@the Engine
'kin hell Engine, you must be even older than me, if that's possible....