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.

View Comments

  • @Mike_P

    A lovely piece of writing Frank, but hard reading for me at the moment. I've recently undergone minor surgery that is taking far longer to heal due to an infection setting in and will be off the bike for an as yet to be determined amount of time. Not good days! Time to enter the psychological pain cave and tough it out.

    Here's to a speedy recovery - knee surgery last year was a bummer; but provided a tremendous amount of motivation when I did get back on.  Get well soon!

  • @le chuck Cool. Didn't know they were making a real road version of those now. More shoes to lust after.

    @DCR I have some lace-up Vittoria track shoes that use the same carbon sole but a more modern upper than the retro style ones. Very stiff, and light.

  • Long solo rides are cool, for all the reasons above, but drinking recovery beers by yourself in full kit at the pub not as cool.

  • @Fastbyfrank

    Frank, not only do we share name and groupo, but solitude. My cycle, and motorcycle policy is one of solitude, where 3 hours cycling gives me the head space of 6, and a 1200 km solo motorcycle ride is my solution for equilibrium.

    I've always wanted to ride a moto, but my love for speed doesn't bode well for my life expectancy.

    That said, there is talk of organizing some gravel races and if that happens, there will be two off-road motos entering the stable (one for the VMH, one for me) and we will scout the routes by moto and also accompany the race(s) with spare wheels/water etc.

  • @xyxax If you get phunchy, we are over, you and I.

    @Mike_P

    A lovely piece of writing Frank, but hard reading for me at the moment. I've recently undergone minor surgery that is taking far longer to heal due to an infection setting in and will be off the bike for an as yet to be determined amount of time. Not good days! Time to enter the psychological pain cave and tough it out.

    Fuck.

    @Two Ball Billy

    Nice post Frank. A journey to meet the "man with the hammer" should always be a solo effort.

    Isn't it always? Even when in the company of others, when his shadow looms, we are alone.

    @San Tonio

    Long solo rides are cool, for all the reasons above, but drinking recovery beers by yourself in full kit at the pub not as cool.

    Does not compute. Done this many times. For the same reasons that I ride alone. 

  • @pistard

    @le chuck Cool. Didn't know they were making a real road version of those now. More shoes to lust after.

    @DCR I have some lace-up Vittoria track shoes that use the same carbon sole but a more modern upper than the retro style ones. Very stiff, and light.

    Good to hear. I have been looking for a suitable shoe to compliment a nice steel frame build.

  • Another solo rider by inclination and circumstance.   The last bunch ride I went will remain the last bunch ride I went onMothering particularly bad happened, but I like to see the road clearly, I like to ride my pace, and I don't like overly bright helmet mounted tail list blinding me.   I sat up and dropped myself to escape that.

    Most of my routes are loops on highways, so the are few tempting cafes, and no escape routes to cheat with.   Once I  commit to a route, I'm screwed.

  • Most of my rides are solo because I live out in the boonies in Louisiana, and involve out-and-back routes with no bailout possible other than turning around.  I've always been comfortable with the silence.

    I'll be racing with a team this year, and the team has a Saturday morning semi-hammer ride of ~150km. This is good for me, since it gives me time in a fast group setting and also pushes me harder than I'd push myself over such a distance. Keeping up with the whipper-snappers hurts so good...

  • My rides are solo lately. Just moved to a new area, learning some of the roads and working back into a semblance of shape after a few months of not much riding. Yesterday's ride was supposed to be solo. Met up with a local rider, had a nice chat for a few minutes,  he told me of a few nice local roads before we headed our own ways. But I had company on the ride. Couldn't see anyone, but could hear and certainly could feel the presence. Wind. Mostly headwind, the tailwind never seems to work out the same. But no complaints, kind of like pushing against that invisible barrier. Not many people get that, but I know many of us do.

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