We’re not really supposed to have favorites, but everyone does. Just ask your parents. So while I’m not supposed to have a favorite, I do, and its Rule #9.
Bad weather immediately separates the wheat from the chaff, and so the weekend warriors stay indoors and leave the roads to the devout. I talk most often about riding in the rain, with the drops of water dripping from my cap acting as my personal metronome as I carve a path through the chaos towards a happier self. But sunny days in the cold can provide their own glorious solitude.
On Keepers Tour 2013, we had unseasonably cold weather, and some of the best rides we had were early morning spins before heading off to the races. With the sun hanging low over the horizon, we rode through our frozen breath, together in close formation yet each of us retreating inward as we steeled ourselves against the cold. These were beautiful, peaceful rides.
This winter in Seattle has been relatively dry, but also cold. On the weekends, the country roads are nearly deserted and all that is left is the silent, still air and the burning of cold air as it enters my lungs. On a recent solo ride on Whidbey Island, I spun down the same roads which only a few months earlier I had ridden with friends on the annual Whidbey Island Cogal. The island seems a full place then, now it looked like an entirely different place – empty and beautiful.
There is something about the way the bike handles in the cold. The tires are firmer, the rubber less supple. The connection between bicycle and road seems simultaneously harsher and more fragile than in the warm. The muscles in my arms and hands are also more twitchy in the cold. Not twitchy like I can suddenly sprint; twitchy like I have difficulty controlling what they are doing – where normally I pride myself on holding a clean line, in the cold a small bump in the road might trigger a spasm that sends the bike into a wobble. Its an exciting way to ride.
Quiet roads, a still harbor, an early morning sunrise; these are the gifts reserved for those who ventured out when others stay in. These are the gifts of Rule #9.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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In high school physics, I learned about energy and heat and how even the "solids" in the world around me -- metal chairs, concrete floors, wooden tables -- had motion at the atomic level. On cold days, the motion slowed. On hot days, it would increase and things like tar on the road outside our country school would "melt" -- noticeable changes in (V)iscosity.
I've long thought that the cold air not only holds the crowds inside and lends my rides quiet serenity, but it also slows down the motion -- motion in the guns, in the bike, the air being squeezed between tire and tarmac -- of everything to the extent that time itself slows. It is my theory; after all, Einstein loved to ride a bike too.
Rule #9, has to be the best one, if not during then definitely afterwards, but as stated above we all get a spartan pleasure while being out there on the road in most anything mother nature has to throw at us. Here in darkest Perthshire it has been fairly constant wind, rain and sleet, not much above freezing, some icy mornings only. Dont see too many folks out. Pic from this morning (please excuse rear fender, apologies).....
@DCR I was literally about to direct you to something a read about cold weather and haunting silence r until I saw the last sentence.
That Festive500, what a devil she is. While I've never considered myself competitive, this year was surely a bout between myself and Mother Nature. 211kms through MA, NH, and VT. Average temp of -5. Had 11.75hr of journey time, 1.5 or so which were under sunlight. There was a lot to learn from this adventure.
1. The human body is a puppet to your mind. I was thoroughly frozen through and dehydrated due to frozen bottles, that it wasn't possible to know how to physically pedal. As long as I thought of the pedal stroke, the legs would move in proper fashion. While in most favorable conditions, pedaling is done automato, it did require some mental stimuli to not completely seize up.
2. It is possible to freeze your eyes both open and shut, simultaneously. I failed to pack clear lenses and went without eyewear the better part of 10hrs. Between the winds, the snow, and the temps, it was a struggle to see the triangle of light, let alone outside it. I would raise my brows in hopes that the eyelids would follow, but unsuccessfully found nothing moved. Likewise, any effort to close them was met with similar humor. Forget about making time up on the descents. Tears would flow out and immediately freeze. Pretty awesome in hindsight.
3. Ignorance is truly bliss. Having only a speckle of light in front of me on the backroads proved a valuable ally. I don't recall ever going up any hard climbs, just that I moved along very slowly, if not purposefully.
All that said, I'm not sure if there is bad weather, just poor preparation.
I do testify to the bounteous gifts bestowed by #9 training. Last winter I had neither rollers nor stationary trainer, so I rode in all kinds of miserable weather - and often when I shouldn't have. In the spring, in a road race which took a page from the 2013 Milan - San Remo a few weeks earlier, we encountered rain; snow; sleet and hail. Any thought of abandoning was pushed aside, knocked over, and beaten senseless by the abiding knowledge "I've ridden in worse." #9 rules!
@strathlubnaig that's a fabulous, moody photo!
Rule #9 has to be the one for me at this time of year, but at 7:30am yesterday morning, as my rear wheel touched its first small patch of black ice in the pre-dawn and gave me a half second wake up call, I was closely coupling it with Rule #10.
@frank - republish this article in summer and I suspect you may get some different rules stated as favourites by folks.
Now, where's that gorilla?
@pash
@withoutanyhills
Same method applies as a fall on a decent - You wipe yourself down, you get back on, and you start to see how fast you can ride until you fall again.
@pash
Oh hush up you big sissy. Wouldn't you rather have those scars on the bike and the memories of the rides than a pristine machine?
Bars can be re-wrapped, but in all seriousness a fall will always shake the confidence. Just don't let it keep you off the bike. Back on the horse and all that.
@withoutanyhills
There is indeed a reason Rule #64 exists!
@titirangisi
To be fair to @withoutanyhills that's tougher to do with a broken hip, either that or is serious V