Solo Artist

Solo on Haleakala. Photo: Elizabeth Keller

I walk away from social gatherings with an acute sense of accomplishment whenever I haven’t offended anyone and when my friends all stayed awake. I view myself as a bottle of wine that keeps getting better with age, but I’m slowly coming to grips with the notion that I am actually a bottle that may be corked. The great irony of life is that as we become more comfortable with who we are, we become more annoying to be around.

Fortunately, I enjoy being alone. I haven’t always felt that way, but my natural charm means I have had to cultivate a taste for it. That isn’t to say I don’t like being around others – quite the opposite – but being alone allows me the opportunity to reconnect with who I am. This is especially true when riding my bicycle. Riding alone, there is nothing to do but focus on the sensations of the ride: the wind in my face, the smells in the air, the sound of my tires as we hum along together, rider and bicycle.

Doing a long ride alone is an exercise of discipline. The little voices in your head may start quietly, but they build to crescendo inside your skull after a few hours of solitary suffering. The doors and patios on the cafés at the roadside start looking larger and more welcoming with every kilometer that passes under your tires. A point comes, on these long rides, at which Rule #5 becomes a matter of continuing on with the task; a determination to finish what you have begun.

We learn fundamental things about ourselves when we are alone in the Pain Cave, after we’ve dropped the flashlight and watched helplessly as it rolled off the shelf and into the void. Questions come knocking, and they won’t go away until you’ve dealt with them. This is when we grow, when we build confidence in the face of doubt.

We are lucky to find ourselves at crossroads where every direction leads to more suffering, where the direction we choose is irrelevant. The choice is simply to suffer or to go home. In a world where we have made a science of luxury, we Cyclists choose to suffer.

Vive la Vie Velominatus.

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.

Next Can't Do That »

Previous « Anatomy of a Photo: Maximum Awesome

View Comments

frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:50 pm

@thomas

so you're saying I'm not weird for rather riding on my own?

The whole article is about being weird, dude. We're Cyclists for fuck's sake. Please try again with a serious question.
The Pressure says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:51 pm
frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:52 pm

@Lukas

Hmmm. It looked like the video was going to imbed properly. Oh well, here is the link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rgKAOdPx58

I actually love people. It appears to be their rejection of me that has taught me how nice it is to be alone.

And you'll have to be logged in if you want to embed.
The Pressure says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:53 pm

Not weird...yet strange geometry
frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:53 pm

@gordon

Kindred sprit. I starting riding in 1978 commuting in the D.C. area. 16 miles to work always solo. Being lazy I would ride as fast as I could to enable me to sleep a little later in the morning. Wonderful "quiet time" on the bike just as you said. I continue to do 95% of my training solo and even in organized events like RAMROD spend most of my time solo. Might hook up with a group on the flats just to go fast but when we hit the climbs I just focus on the task at hand.... be past by a few people as possible and nobody my age (60). Viva V

@MrLowell

@frank, When I read "The great irony of life is that as we become more comfortable with who we are, we become more annoying to be around." I laughed out loud, it's just so very true.

Further, this could not be more relevant at the moment. I posted the following update to facebook: "I feel the desperate need to go on one of those 100+ mile rides that I'm totally unprepared for. A soul crushing sort of ride that allows you to renew and rebuild, better and stronger."

I can think of no better way to smack myself out of the ice cream sandwich induced funk I've been in for the past several weeks than to pedal my way through all this negativity and directly to the answers I seek.

Exactly. This feeling comes on me regularly - I just need to get out for the whole day on the bike, alone. No better cure for what ails you. Especially if its in bad weather. All the more a trip down resurrection boulevard.
frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 6:58 pm

@grumbledook

Quote from the video: "We use the word 'suffering' way too much."

Hey! I resemble that!

@SimonH

It's those moments that are almost impossible to explain to anybody that does not frequently set out to meet the man with the hammer.

How do you explain that the best feelings come shortly after you have been deep to cracking?

This is why we are outcasts, but also why we kick so much Merckxdamn ass.
Bill Chris says:

Nov 20 2013 at 7:00 pm

Nice piece @Frank, I am glad others like solo rides. I would say 90% of my rides are solo. I find seeing the scenery around me a lot more beautiful when its not some guys butt infront of me, I guess this is why on what group rides I do undertake I try to stay on the front as much as possible. My love for riding is the freedom to get away and take in the world I pass through and being alone with my thaughts. Tomorrow is my day off work. Targeting a nice 104km solo ride that should be full of great scenery, deep thaughts, and of course pain; also it starts and ends at the winery at which I work so free reserve wines as my recovery beverage.
frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 7:01 pm

@Optimiste

I typically ride solo and relish every moment. But October a year ago, I did a 240km ride - the first 160 with two other riders, the last 80 solo. With 50km to go, I found myself downtown and entirely spent. I decided to pack it in and take the lightrail home. At the first two stations, my debit card didn't work at the kiosks, and I had no cash. The ATM at a nearby bank was out of order. At the next ATM, I discovered my debit card was cracked.

Calling a friend to pick me up was out of the question - too much pride and I'd never hear the end of it. The only option was to finish the ride. That slog was the deepest I'd ever explored the pain cave, and it was unquestionably one of my best experiences on the bike.

Sometimes it is only via the Anti-V that we truly find our path to the true V.

In October of last year, you entered the realm, Pedalwan.
PeakInTwoYears says:

Nov 20 2013 at 7:04 pm

@frank

I actually love people. It appears to be their rejection of me that has taught me how nice it is to be alone.

I think Frank is being a bit of a drama queen, here.
frank says:

Nov 20 2013 at 7:06 pm

@le chuck

That's some serious introspection, son. The kind that only happens when riding alone. Strong work, very inspirational stuff, in all seriousness.

Also, you posted a photo of yourself riding while talking on the phone. Meditate on that as well.