Photo via F&O Forgotten Nobility

I am a road cyclist, at heart. Even when I’m in a car, I’ll daydream about riding the same road I’m driving. I’ll imagine how the tarmac might feel as my wheels carry me across it, the wind, the smells in the air. I’ll imagine how my lungs are expanding and contracting, cleansing me a little with every exhale. In my mind’s legs, I’ll feel the pressure building as I imagine myself rising out of the saddle to power over a pitch. I know I would feel the pain of such a ride, but I can’t really imagine what it would feel like. I can never really imagine pain.

The paved road is where we are the closest we will ever be to achieving flight. To restrict ourselves to tarmac, however, is to restrict ourselves to those places in this world which are most travelled. The most beautiful places do not lie at the end of such roads; they are hidden away, where those with some element of imagination might venture to look for them. A two-lane dirt track, perhaps, or a forest road that winds off beyond the damp forest and on to places unknown.

On gravel and dirt, we find a completely different sensation from that on the road. Certainly, many of the elements are still there, but the terrain demands a different kind of harmony; we dart along from one side of the road to another, looking for the best bits where the holes are smaller and the gravel is held together more. The dust or mud kicked up by our tires hovers in the air about us and covers our lips, teeth, and tongue. Suddenly, we taste the road as much as feel it.

Being away from traffic and in the wilderness awakens something primal in our spirits. The smell of damp dirt, moss, and bark or the baking scent of dry pine needles flushes the city from your senses and immediately awakens a calmer Self. My soul is at peace when I return home from such a ride.

The road is where my heart lies, but gravel is where I find my soul.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

View Comments

  • @frank

    @EricW

    Talk about Rule violations. The only Rule Jacquie didn't violate was Rule #5.

    Is there a ruling on the V to Rule Breaking exchange rate?  I.E. Each helping of V above 1 V allows the rider to break some fraction of another rule?

    Note that this is a generalization of Rule #33.

  • @EricW

    @frank

    @EricW

    Talk about Rule violations. The only Rule Jacquie didn't violate was Rule #5.

    Is there a ruling on The V to Rule Breaking exchange rate? I.E. Each helping of V above 1 V allows the rider to break some fraction of another rule?

    Note that this is a generalization of Rule #33.

    Even answering that question would violate Rule #2.

  • Cross bikes are not the thing yet in Evansville Indiana. That despite the fact that we now have 4 serious bike shops representing 10 major brands in a city of 120,000. One bike shop however had risked ordering a cross bike in 2009. It was a Specialized Tricross with a price of $1600. I discovered it last year when looking for a cross bike and talked them out of it for $900. I love this bike. It shifts so smoothly despite its wide range of gears (nice drive train with Tiagra levers and a Deore LX rear). The ride with the larger tires and the carbon fork is the nicest road bike ride I've ever had. And to top it off it does not feel heavy or slow despite the 32 mm tires. (Well they are supposed to be 32's despite the fact that they look wider than the 35's on my wife's Trek hybrid.) I've also got it set up with lights because of the fact I don't have to worry as much about hitting potholes and losing control on it at night. Every cyclist should try one once.

  • I love rockin' my Marinoni Fango single speed cx on the gravel cottage and colonization roads north of Muskoka, Ontario. I raced it at the Paris-Ancaster this spring. It was a blast.

  • I mentioned the Lowell 50 earlier - That was this morning. It was a soul searing ride with mud, bits of rain and hard gusting wind. Of the two distances to race, 55km or 92km, I raced the latter in my age division (over 50) and out of the finishers numbering 12, I beat one guy. Out of the entrants (21), I did better.

    Upon awaking and hearing the howling wind this morning and looking at wet roads, I chose the 12/30 to go with my 46/36 front rings. Given the mud, I'm very glad for the big cassette as that got me through the mud with something nearing aplomb. Or perhaps elan... In any event, I'm pleased to have finished at all. My time of 4:13:09 is slower than I would have liked, but I finished, eh?

    Climbing wasn't bad at 897 meters and were made worse by the wind, but as I said hills in West Michigan aren't terribly plentiful. Roughly 72-80km were into the wind or cross wind and the cross wind sucked the life out of this ride.

    A hard day in the saddle, deep in the pain cave with proper post ride hydration makes for an excellent day.

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