The Thin Boundary Between Casual and Deliberate

Something has gone awry here. Photo: John Thompson

Cycling and crashing are the kinds of things that come together whenever you liberally combine Newtonian Physics, skill, and overconfidence. In other words, I’ve been falling off my bike for nearly as long as I’ve been climbing on it.

One of the more memorable crashes of my youth involved the commute home from my high school and a lady driving into the parking lot of the local grocery store. Her car and my bicycle momentarily occupied the same space, a physical impossibility whose only opportunity for resolution lay in the boot of her car, and that’s precisely where I went looking for it. Another time, the right-front braking on my first real race bike helped me disprove the theory that I might be able to achieve sustained human flight. The resolution of this particular question also led me to learn how to re-cable the brakes on my bike and embark on my quest to perfect the wrapping of handlebar tape.

Some of these early lessons and their subsequent visits to emergency rooms and time spent nursing wounds led me to better understand where the limits lie that convert harmony between rider and machine into chaos. More importantly, it gave me an appreciation that descending and cornering at speed, while thrilling, provide limited reward with respect to the risk. Some might call this wisdom or maturity, but I like to think of it as something marginally more productive than refusing to learn from one’s mistakes.

It is the human condition, however, to become accustomed to current levels of risk and that we continue to push boundaries. We refer to this phenomenon as “progress”, and with progress comes an inherent sense of overconfidence; it is in our nature to assume that since we successfully pushed past the previous boundary, that the one that lies before us will be passed with similar ease.

It was with this confidence that I entered the first of three ninety-degree corners on lap four of yesterday’s Magnuson Park Cross race. During recon and the previous three race laps, I had recognized the risks of this first corner; leaving a fast section of tarmac, the course re-entered the mud and grass as we circumvented a tennis court. It would be easy to carry too much speed into the corner and loose traction on the flimsy, low-pressure cyclocross tires.

With each lap, the speeds increased, and with each lap, I successfully navigated the course. The riders around me were tiring, I was moving up in the field, and gaining confidence with each lap. On the section just prior to the first of the turns, I took an opportunity to pass a pack of slower riders from another category, set up for the corner, relaxed, and readied for the challenge presented by the upcoming muddy sections.

I felt it long before anything happened. It was one of those notions that enters your body somewhere between your senses and your brain and lingers there before turning sideways to make sure it’s noticed as it passes through your system. The tire in the front wheel depressed as I leaned on it – then folded over. I spent an eternity in limbo between the rider I had only just been and the rider whom I was about to become.

I aimed for the dirt, it seemed softer than the tarmac. I don’t know if I hit it or not, and I’m not sure what caused the rather deep gash under me knee, or the double-loop in my chain for which I could find no remedy at the trailside. What I do know is I was in a heap and the riders who had been enjoying my ample draft suddenly found themselves similarly on the ground, though for different reasons. Several cursed at me, one postulated that my mother had been unmarried at the time of my birth. While he may have been wrong about the specifics, he was certainly right in his sentiment: I was a fool who didn’t understand his own limitations.

It seems fitting, then, that I was the only rider I took down who failed to finish the race. Next time, I’ll aim to go just fast enough not to crash out.

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

    It would appear that if you are the kind of man who Anquetil was, you don't need no stinkin' 'cross bike to ride 'cross. Unless I'm mistaken, that's his standard road bike, with possibly slightly wider tires. And his socks look perfect. What sort of witchcraft is this?

    Respect.

    Since I'm still catching up on my cycling history, did they primarily ride long reach centerpulls on the road in Anquetil's day?  If so, I would think that yes, his standard road bike would work fine (and therefore that could very well be it) provided it had the clearance for larger tires.  He'd be SOL in the mud, though.  And yes, those socks do indeed adhere perfuckedly to the Goldilocks principle.

  • sorry, that was intended to be 'perfuckly' (i.e. really fucking perfect!) as opposed to 'perfuckedly' (i.e. really perfectly fucked! - which is what he'd be in the mud with those tires and brakes)

  • @frank

    It would appear that if you are the kind of man who Anquetil was, you don't need no stinkin' 'cross bike to ride 'cross. Unless I'm mistaken, that's his standard road bike, with possibly slightly wider tires. And his socks look perfect. What sort of witchcraft is this?

    Respect.

    He could also ski without mussing his hair - quite a guy...

  • I have watched that Joey video a 100x. If you slow it way down, you'll see his top tube arm has let go of the bike before getting to the barrier. That was an insane wipeout. Which is why he now gives hand ups to g'rilla.

    @frank

    @VeloVita

    but for me the Autumn leaves and the opportunity to don a cap, knickers/warmers (or better yet, embrocation), eyewear with clear lenses and go play in the mud is about as good as it gets.

    You nailed something critical here: the toys change, but we're still the same people we were when we were kids. It used to drive my dad nuts; the family would be walking down the road and if there was a puddle to be found, I'd go right through it.

    In the race Sunday, I had a shit start, but made up lots of ground just because everyone else was trying to avoid the puddles. I went right through them. Partly to make up ground, and partly because it was fun.

    One word of caution about puddles in a race: in mud not as big a deal. re-creating a smaller scale version of joey's wipeout complete with a ruined tire/wheel in a pavement puddle entirely possible. Every year at cross crusade there is a race (except this year, they put several inches of gravel over the pavement) which had a long stretch of potholed pavement that would be filled with water n leaves. Underneath was some jagged spikes to the broken pavement, waiting to destroy equipment. I go around the puddles on pavement now too.

  • @the Engine He could also ski without mussing his hair - quite a guy...

    ? Have you seen the footage of him skiing...?  He was a swan on a bike but even though he is one of my favourite riders he was definitely and ugly duckling on skis..there is a biopic on him narrated/translated by Phil Ligget and you can find it on youtube in 6 sections..some skiing footage in there..

    First one here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3sOezcnHoU

  • @frank

    @VeloVita

    but for me the Autumn leaves and the opportunity to don a cap, knickers/warmers (or better yet, embrocation), eyewear with clear lenses and go play in the mud is about as good as it gets.

    You nailed something critical here: the toys change, but we're still the same people we were when we were kids. It used to drive my dad nuts; the family would be walking down the road and if there was a puddle to be found, I'd go right through it.

    Just got my older Pedalwan a new bike helmet.  He's stoked on it.  Also, it just rained, and he wants to hit the gravel this weekend to search for the epic puddle he spent an hour riding through last winter.  He's now on a 40 cm bike so he'll be able to shred even more.

  • @the Engine Not sure which impact you mean, another rider tanks the barrier right behind him but I think the second impact sound is just the boards shaking in their mounts from the first impact.

    Still can't get over how far he launches!!

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