Water is an asshole, at least when it comes to bicycles. So is wind, now that I think of it; I don’t love it, unless its at my back, but that rarely seems to happen even on out-and-back routes. Fire’s not winning any prizes either, unless you’re talking about the hunk-a-hunka burnin’ V. Even le soleil isn’t scoring points for either the bike or the rider, unless given in carefully-controlled amounts, a fact which has large portions of the Pacific Northwest – perhaps the gloomiest place on Earth – buying up more high-SPF sunscreen and sunglasses per capita than any other place in the civilized world.
In other words, Nature’s a bit of a beyotch.
As far as our bikes go, water seems to be the biggest of these opponents. When I rode the 7-hour Heck of the North over clay-gravel roads in wind and rain; the wind was unpleasant but it left no indelible mark on me, apart from some sore muscles. The rain, on the other hand, combined with the clay from the roads to form a slurry that destroyed every bearing in my bike save one – not to mention the quarter cup of slurry that found its way into my chamois. The replacement bearings took a few weeks to source and install; the damage from the sandy chammy took over a month to heal. Water – and the additional wear it imposes on the machine (and sometimes our bodies), is not to be under estimated.
Water also introduces direct challenges while riding, the nuances of which can be explored while climbing or cornering by means of spinning out and crashing, respectively. Things get particularly interesting right around the freezing point, where the laws of physics governing cornering take on The Price is Right rules.
I have long espoused the merits of riding in bad weather; it removes the seductive qualities of riding a bike that see the weekend warriors flocking to the sport in droves during the summer months. In bad weather, the simple act of going out is already enough to make you feel the strength of your resolve as a Cyclist. But the fundamental pleasure of riding remains the same, with the added bonus of the clothing we wear making us look like the hardmen from Belgium and the dripping of water from our cycling caps serving as a metronome as we tap out our lonely path towards Mount Velomis.
We don’t ride because we love tree-lined boulevards and sunny afternoons; we ride because we love testing ourselves against our minds and the elements. There is a simple pleasure to be found in enduring a challenge; to learn to face hardship with a welcoming smile is a gift that riding a bicycle uniquely helps us discover.
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@Rom
THIS.
@Rom
And THIS AGAIN! Why am I more motivated to ride my mtb when it's shit out? Because I DON'T FUCKING CARE
After my novice years (not sure they have truly ended), riding in New England, where the weather can turn to crap swiftly; I have discovered cycling heaven in Northern California. Like others, I still feel a sense of pride on the misty, cold mornings when there is a bite in the air and grit to be hurled. But on more occasions than not, the weather is very forgiving allowing for year-round training and amazing climbing (....and descending). A Sunday ride with one of my pals was under a 70 degree sun in the Oakland Hills. Having said that, we could use some water.
Meh, the Heck of the North wasn't that bad.
@Gianni
"Dogs Bollocks" is a good thing. "Bollocks" is a bad thing. Go figure.
A buddy let me have his old Ti spindles from his X1s. They were so under-cared for that I almost cried - damn they would've been expensive. He'd crashed on one of them and it has become near fixed in place; the other has no grease left in it so it just spins around like a hamster wheel - the grease port was stuffed. I took a lesson on maintenance with that one.
They wouldn't have fit into my zero's anyway.
Rain is one thing...once you're wet you can't get wetter. But wet AND cold I like not so much. Though my Irish roots might suggest some more Rule 5, I just don't like to be wet and cold. On a cold, dry day in southern Ontario we will gladly endure -4 C (grit not withstanding). Before our snow arrived recently I enjoyed a glorious out and back ride with tailwind out and mighty 40k headwind home! It was entertaining 'tacking' home to try and hide from the wind.
Very nice article. Summer here in Perth at the moment so while I might like to sympathise with all you notherners, I won't.
Don't mind crap weather on the bike, but getting out the house when it's raining already - that's tough. I find once the feet are on the decks, it's ho hum get it done and feel good about being out when every other sook is in bed or in their car. But if it's horizontal rain and 80km/h winds and I realise before I'm out the door, that's a struggle.
Oh and since most of my ride involves getting to and from work, riding home after getting soaked in the morning - that's bloody unpleasant, cold wet chamois - nice, not. I'm always concerned about getting "trench bollocks" and having them go gangrenous...
@Teocalli I quite fancy the Flat Out in the Fens for 2014 - it runs within a kilometre of my house. It's never quite worked out in terms of dates before but it's in the diary now.
I always thought it would make a good base for a double imperial ton.
Love the article. Cold: no problem - we wrap up. Rain: we can deal with it (skin is waterproof after all). Wind: it's just a fact of life on two wheels, but combine any two of these and my sense of humour moves over; replaced by honour, duty to the V and sometimes pure necessity. My 50km daily commute often takes in all three of the above at this time of year and for the next three or maybe four months, sometimes both ways and nearly always in the dark, occasionally I hate it but apply Rule 5 and get on with it in the knowledge that I HATE the turbo-trainer even more and in the vain hope that it will make me faster/better/lighter next season ...hope springs eternal and all that! Am I really a better for it?
Definitely yes.
Riding in the cold can be delightful - you just add clothing and you're sorted. The cold/wet combo, though...rough. Peering out the window at 2°C and steady rain is always dispiriting. Once I'm on the road things always look up, though - clipping in and immediately applying lots of V does the job.
Ultimately, there's no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing.
Breaking out the fixed gear helps too - I stay warmer somehow when I can't stop pedaling, and in any case it limits speed downhill.