Categories: Defining MomentsExportKeepers TourLa Vie Velominatus

(Re)Discovery

Vermont in Autumn. Photo via @LazyJackFlash.

I’ve lost a lot of things that were, at some point or another, dear to me. At times, I’ve even cast them away deliberately, either because of a nurtured indifference or an irrational or impulsive dislike. Regret is an easy emotion to find in reflection, it lays right at the surface and provides us with a quick answer without requiring further introspection. I prefer to recognize that every choice I’ve made was an opportunity and that even the failed opportunities make up part of the foundation that lays beneath me and helps support me as I grow. Life is about learning from your mistakes, looking ahead, and seeking beauty in every approaching moment; to embrace the opportunity to make the best choice we can based on our experience and our goals.

We walk along an intertwined web of choices and possible futures. Every choice is a crossroads where the direction we choose sends us hurtling towards a new destination. Some crossroads have paths that ultimately lead towards the same end, but all of them represent a different journey. We cannot see the path, so we are left to decide what to make of the journey. We always have a choice, even if the choice is simply to reject an option. But even rejection leads to a new choice, and that to another. Choice gives us freedom. To be deprived of choice is to be enslaved.

My season’s objectives lie at my back and before me stretches a long period of time as I work towards my next milestone, which is Keepers Tour 2015. Between here and there lies the Cyclocross Season in which I will sporadically race, and also a possible trip up Haleakala, but with my season just having ended, I will face them without any special preparation or training. My rides during the Fall are deliberately without objective, I ride as my fancy dictates. My objective is simply to ride and to rediscover the basic sensations that fuel my love for Cycling.

With this deliberate lack of structure, I explore once again the mysteries of The V. On some days, I come home from work and as I pedal away my muscles twitch as they hunger for the deep burning that only a session in the Five and Dime can do. Yet on other days I am drained and wish only to feel my legs spin and surrender to the hum of my tires as my senses fill with the cool damp smells of Autumn. The mystery lies in the fact that nothing between my days at the office will have been fundamentally different; I do not know the state of my body and mind until I climb aboard the bicycle.

Riding a bicycle may have nothing to do with the elemental existence of humankind, but it does have something to do with the elemental existence of us as individuals. The bicycle is freedom, to be sure, but it is also a mystery unto itself while paradoxically helping unravel the mystery how I respond and interact with my surroundings. Therein lies the enigma: the bicycle knows me better than I know myself.

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.

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Ron says:

Oct 20 2014 at 11:31 am

@frank

@Ron

Wow, once again, what a timely article! Nice one, Big Frank!!

I've been feeling a bit detached from Following of late. Been busy working on our house, landing a new job, and simply just not being in the mood for rides longer than 2-3 hours. I had been feeling kind of guilty.

But, then I was out on a ride and realized that I've always gone through phases in my life, in all areas. Silly ones - I tend to eat the same things every day for periods (months, years even) and then without really noticing it, I won't have eaten those things in months.

In cycling, a couple years back I never would have guessed I'd own a slew of bikes and ride for a few hours a day. I was doing that and enjoying the cycling, but I was also neglecting other parts of my life and commitments. Now I'm doing pretty darn good, have found some balance, and I'm just not riding as much. That isn't to say I don't love cycling, I'm just in a new rhythm with it.

Today is the first day of a new job. And, I get to bike commute 40 minutes each way. Nice! Plus, I work with a friend and for a guy that I like. Not so bad.

What is great is that I've been dragging my feet in grad school for too long. Having this great new career opportunity I realized the #1 reason - my field requires all-in academic commitment, or else you simply can't find a decent job. Too much competition, not enough new hires. Finishing my degree meant...overeducated dude either working hard and getting underpaid or overeducated dude working at the LBS. Part of my ascent into riding tons was avoiding my degree work, avoiding finishing, as that likely meant a job not in my field.

All of that has changed and my life feels completely different. In a good way. Now that I have a job, finishing my degree is just the final hurdle in a long fucking academic career. I can always go back, having the degree, but there is GREAT potential with my new job.

Anyway, here is to new directions, new rides, new routes, new rhythms, and maybe just enjoying life and not feeling bad for only riding my bike for 1.5 hours a day. Cycling is still a huge part of my life, it's just a bit different than it has been of late. Nothing wrong with that. Change is healthy.

Ok, now that I read your impossibly long post, AWESOME!! I can tell if your job is at the lbs or in your field but either way it sound like it hit the spot so fuckin' good on ya!

if I could give anyone advice, it would be to follow the heart not the paycheck; the money I make at work has no value to me - the experiences it brings does. But when you chase the paycheck you invariably wind up working more and more and enjoying the fruits of that labor less.

not complaining about my very happy and fortunate life, just an observation about climbing ladders.

Sorry for all the words! I am just pretty pumped up these days.

A new job (not in my field, nor the LBS) popped up and I think I'm going to like it. Laid-back work environment, I like the folks I'm working with, start/stop time is flexible. Best of all, 40 minute commute on a dedicated trail. No dealing with rush hour cagers! I'd work at a job I hated for that PRO, but I like this job.

Anyway, I was feeling detached from my inner Velominatus. My weekly riding totals are way down. But, then I got to thinking. When my totals were high, I was all out whack. Now I only get to ride for 1.5 hours a day, but so many other parts of my life are in better order. Oh yeah, and pimpin' out the commuter steed is just as fun as pimpin' the road machine. And cheaper!

As for money. I've been living on meager grad student income for a few years, plus help from the VMH. Now I'm set to earn some decent money. It feels kinda weird, since all I really want is a few new bike things. (Just picked up the MegaDrive for post-November 2nd commuting!)

This was just great timing for this article as I'm going through major changes in my own life, but they're all for the best and making the VMH happy with steady income feels pretty damn incredible. And, now that I have to really schedule and plan ahead for my rides, they're actually that much more enjoyable. When you can go for a ride any time you want, you take it for granted. Now it'll be Sunday road rides with a pal, Weds. cross training rides in the park, and any others I can fit it, along with daily commuting.

Enjoy the seasonal changes, Followers & Keepers!
frank says:

Oct 20 2014 at 3:57 pm

@unversio

@frank

@unversio

A good 12 hour day, an MX Leader (The Sword) with no data, 52/42, 11-20 straight block, roads mapped by memory, some serious Parallax socks to inspire my own space-time continuum, and the sound of silence.

I forgot you made that block! That's a proper gear ratio you've got there, all around.

The 206mi idea is out of my system now. Although the ride stopped at 100mi I am calling it a "successful test" and have the route registered to memory. The one tooth differential was the best decision that I've ever made with the drivetrain. Best decision of the day was to enjoy the idea of "stopping" with my family. They had endured 6 hours to the 3rd checkpoint with smiles on their faces and I then decided not to ruin that by pushing them for 6 hours more. The day was perfect.

My notion of building up a Coefficient of Difficulty to endure the 206 mile route went in the ditch at mile 100. The adventure was a good one though. And I while I originally thought that I would want to describe my deep internal nature that I refer to as the Coefficient of Difficulty, I don't need to. I rode alone and the miles are behind me now. And all the moments are left on the road.

There is one remarkable eye opener though that came within the first 10 minutes of riding at dawn.
I had the bike up to speed (the road was giving it to me) and maintaining the early stage of the Coefficient. Dead silent morning; dead silent bike; eerie strobing front light; rustling and crashing in the trees; light enough to see a whitetail bobbing along; one deer running up to speed in the tree line; I accelerate and shout "Heeahh!"; that next 100th of a second the deer clips my right butt cheek with its snout; crosses over my rear wheel without touching; still riding and the deer was gone. I momentarily rode as if it did not happen, and shortly thereafter found myself riding with a greater awareness for the rest of the day.

This sounds mystical, effervescent, and magical all in one shot! What a day!

By the way, the Coefficient of Difficulty should go into the Lexi as the practical version of Rule #68, n'est pas?
unversio says:

Oct 20 2014 at 3:59 pm

@frank Do it.
Chris says:

Oct 20 2014 at 4:06 pm

@unversio

@frank

@unversio

A good 12 hour day, an MX Leader (The Sword) with no data, 52/42, 11-20 straight block, roads mapped by memory, some serious Parallax socks to inspire my own space-time continuum, and the sound of silence.

I forgot you made that block! That's a proper gear ratio you've got there, all around.

The 206mi idea is out of my system now. Although the ride stopped at 100mi I am calling it a "successful test" and have the route registered to memory. The one tooth differential was the best decision that I've ever made with the drivetrain. Best decision of the day was to enjoy the idea of "stopping" with my family. They had endured 6 hours to the 3rd checkpoint with smiles on their faces and I then decided not to ruin that by pushing them for 6 hours more. The day was perfect.

My notion of building up a Coefficient of Difficulty to endure the 206 mile route went in the ditch at mile 100. The adventure was a good one though. And I while I originally thought that I would want to describe my deep internal nature that I refer to as the Coefficient of Difficulty, I don't need to. I rode alone and the miles are behind me now. And all the moments are left on the road.

There is one remarkable eye opener though that came within the first 10 minutes of riding at dawn.
I had the bike up to speed (the road was giving it to me) and maintaining the early stage of the Coefficient. Dead silent morning; dead silent bike; eerie strobing front light; rustling and crashing in the trees; light enough to see a whitetail bobbing along; one deer running up to speed in the tree line; I accelerate and shout "Heeahh!"; that next 100th of a second the deer clips my right butt cheek with its snout; crosses over my rear wheel without touching; still riding and the deer was gone. I momentarily rode as if it did not happen, and shortly thereafter found myself riding with a greater awareness for the rest of the day.

Strong work, one to remember for a long time.

I love the idea of a straight block but baulk at paying Dura Ace prices. One for the next bike.
Chris says:

Oct 20 2014 at 4:06 pm

@frank

By the way, the Coefficient of Difficulty should go into the Lexi as the practical version of Rule #68, n'est pas?

Perfect.
unversio says:

Oct 20 2014 at 4:14 pm

Coefficient of Difficulty is a whatever you need it to be -- a number, a minimum or maximum, a discipline or feeling. A virtual chase that keeps the legs turning -- and watching time and effort spent. Could also be known as the Right Amount of Dumb.
piwakawaka says:

Oct 20 2014 at 10:14 pm

@Chris

@unversio

@frank

@unversio

A good 12 hour day, an MX Leader (The Sword) with no data, 52/42, 11-20 straight block, roads mapped by memory, some serious Parallax socks to inspire my own space-time continuum, and the sound of silence.

I forgot you made that block! That's a proper gear ratio you've got there, all around.

The 206mi idea is out of my system now. Although the ride stopped at 100mi I am calling it a "successful test" and have the route registered to memory. The one tooth differential was the best decision that I've ever made with the drivetrain. Best decision of the day was to enjoy the idea of "stopping" with my family. They had endured 6 hours to the 3rd checkpoint with smiles on their faces and I then decided not to ruin that by pushing them for 6 hours more. The day was perfect.

My notion of building up a Coefficient of Difficulty to endure the 206 mile route went in the ditch at mile 100. The adventure was a good one though. And I while I originally thought that I would want to describe my deep internal nature that I refer to as the Coefficient of Difficulty, I don't need to. I rode alone and the miles are behind me now. And all the moments are left on the road.

There is one remarkable eye opener though that came within the first 10 minutes of riding at dawn.
I had the bike up to speed (the road was giving it to me) and maintaining the early stage of the Coefficient. Dead silent morning; dead silent bike; eerie strobing front light; rustling and crashing in the trees; light enough to see a whitetail bobbing along; one deer running up to speed in the tree line; I accelerate and shout "Heeahh!"; that next 100th of a second the deer clips my right butt cheek with its snout; crosses over my rear wheel without touching; still riding and the deer was gone. I momentarily rode as if it did not happen, and shortly thereafter found myself riding with a greater awareness for the rest of the day.

Strong work, one to remember for a long time.

I love the idea of a straight block but baulk at paying Dura Ace prices. One for the next bike.

I love mine, 11-23 , 11 speed is a straight block to 19 then 21 and 23, this cassette also holds the 'magic' 18t cog gear...