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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I rode as a bike messenger here in the frozen tundra of the Great White North long before I learned the ways of the Velominatus (Oh, the rule violations :hang head).
I would strip my 32mm slick tired MTB down to a single speed (usually a 42-12) using a Surly Singulator. I would get rid of the rear brake, all cables, housings, and the bulk of the cassette.
The salty, gritty slush of a typical Calgarian winter constantly enters into the cassette and derailleurs, and clings to the cables. Once the machine is so infiltrated, it re-freezes and prevents the rider from choosing the optimum gear for the conditions/speed. I learned quickly that in winter, choose one gear in the morning, because by the time I got to work, it'd be the only gear I'd have for the rest of the day.
Nothing taught me more about clothing selection and bike handling skills than riding in traffic all day, every day, all winter long (even when below -20C). Snow, sleet, rain, slush. It didn't matter. Yes it was because I had a job to do, but it was a job I chose to do, and was proud to do.
Look at the weather forecast for the day, select appropriate clothing, bring out the trusty steed and get on with it. Just know that the maintenance requirements for riding through such conditions require greater post-ride commitment.
@TheVid
This would be a good time to remind you all that fire is also an element, and Rule #9 encompasses heat as well.
Not that I like cold and rain but you CAN dress for it.
On the other hand when the ambient temperature is 45C and your body has started to cook itself and go into early stage heatstroke, it's difficult to imagine how an alternative clothing choice might help.
@ChrisO
Keep on preaching brother. We might be the only two here that are glad summer is over.
@PedallingTom
Ha ha I like that - never slow or out of condition, just perpetually peak - n months. Though I guess the alternative is also for some of us that we are at peak + n months. Where n in the latter case could be quite a large number, and growing.
Hey guys: mind if i jump back on the group ride, been out and stupid work is killer
Weather is everything to us as cyclists, especially in the cyclocentric cosmos we live in. I submit that my cycling buddies and I may well know the weather better than the ones on TV, we just don't look as nice.
And after all, we take a loop, into 40kph head wind, and loop home, we don't talk about the sweet souplesse spin back, we bitch about the hell heading north. We note the rain, and relubing our entire drive train. We even grumble about the august heat and humidity here in the midwest, when its 100+ and humid, and you can't breath.
Simply, as we all know, weather is really our point of reference for all things related to saddletime. If it were not for the hell-o-north winds, the rain, the oppressive heat, the cold....we would never enjoy the good days down, as it was put it 'tree lined boulevards' nor the days we 'are flying'
I know I'm on the right path when my girlfriend (who will not ride in the cold but will ride in the rain) says "you're going to ride in this?"
@Souleur
"And after all, we take a loop, into 40kph head wind, and loop home, we don't talk about the sweet souplesse spin back, we bitch about the hell heading north. We note the rain, and relubing our entire drive train. We even grumble about the august heat and humidity here in the midwest, when its 100+ and humid, and you can't breath."
We have that type of heat and humidity here on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. We're surrounded by water on three sides, so it's like living in a swamp at times during the summer months. Fortunately, that type of weather doesn't bother me (or my gf) - I guess we're just used to it.
@Souleur
I dunno, I've spent any amount of time out playing in shit conditions, especially windsurfing, and I'm now a bit partial to tree-lined boulevards and sunny afternoons.
A typical ride where I live involves rain at some point, but it's rarely cold and wet at the same time, which is nice. I like to MTB in the rain, cos its cooler, and mud is fun.
Its funny. almost exactly 4 years ago (another month or so I think), @scaler911 tried to drown me at a slow pace (as much as I could handle anyhow) on a get acquainted with the road spin. although perhaps the non-roadie spirit was perhaps drowned, the body was simply left quite hypothermic. Classic PNW winter drizzle turning into a frank (little "f" anyhow, not to be confused with...) deluge at the ride midpoint. Now look at us. racing teammates and still occasionally getting near drownings...
@Chris
Oh. Oh. The gauntlet has been thrown, and it has overturned a serving bowl of overcooked vegetables on its way down.