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.
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@Mike_P
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.
@pistard
Planning on combining some of these with my vintage build when complete.....
http://www.dromarti.com/index.php?main_page=index&cPath=10
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
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
Fuck.
@Two Ball Billy
Isn't it always? Even when in the company of others, when his shadow looms, we are alone.
@San Tonio
Does not compute. Done this many times. For the same reasons that I ride alone.
@pistard
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.