La Vie Velominatus: Saleté Sacrée

Sacred Flemish grime covered our bikes on Keepers Tour.

A Velominatus maintains their machine with meticulous care, doting over it daily. A bicycle is a tool, but it is also a work of art, and serves us loyally in pursuit of our craft. We love them as though they were alive; as we grow together, the cracks and lines formed upon both our skins signifies the journey that has passed beneath our wheels.

A clean bicycle with a boastful luster inspires pride; I find myself constantly fighting the urge to carry mine upstairs to sit by the dinner table each time it has been cleaned, the bar tape freshly wrapped, or any old component swapped for a new one. I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a thing or two to say about it; I know the VMH does.

And yet, there are times when it pains me to clean my machine. After our first day on the Cobbles of Roubaix on Keepers Tour 2012, I left my bike dirty for two days because I couldn’t bring myself to rid her frame of the sacred dust that had accumulated after a day’s hard riding over some of the most hallowed roads in the world. A week later, I suffered the same condition the day after riding the route of De Ronde through hail, rain, and wind which left our machines covered in mud, manure, and Merckx knows what else. I think some part of me hoped the Flemish spirit held within all that grit would somehow be absorbed by my bike, that it would somehow help complete her soul.

But this kind of sacred dirt, the kind we don’t want to wash from our steeds, isn’t found only on the holy roads of Northern Europe. I found myself with the same reluctance to clean my Graveur after riding Heck of the North this year; a race held outside a small Northern Minnesota town nearly half a world from Flanders. I also serendipitously found photos Pavé William took of his Rosin after riding the Strade Bianche, documenting the covering of white dust upon its tubes. This condition afflicts us all, it would seem.

Any dirt becomes holy when we’ve suffered through it, when it took something from us in order to find its way onto our bikes and clothing. Sacred Dirt it is created spontaneously after prolonged exposure to The V.

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.

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Buck Rogers says:

Oct 22 2013 at 5:03 am

@Marko

@Buck Rogers Forgive me if this comes off as comparing my experiences to yours in service as mine do not compare. That said, I can relate to the boot story. I bought a new pair of Red Wing classic mocs this spring before this summer's expedition. They were my wet boots, every day, for 70 days, and 1200 miles. They will never be the same again and I can't bring myself to try to bring them back. They're shriveled and worn and tell many stories. Now they sit.

Not at all! It's the imbued feeling that one has from experiences like this that Frank captured so well that I had to share it. I know I can sound like an ass some of the times around here (most of the times?) but I am not trying to enter any dick measuring contest of who is cooler or who has done more, better, longer, etc. It's all about the experiences and I totally get yours. Some things just become sacred secondary to their associations. Your shoes, my shoes, it's all in the same vein.
Buck Rogers says:

Oct 22 2013 at 5:08 am

@Marcus Don't bother calling 'em! I'll take a smiling woman with crow's feet over a botox'd, uptight one anyday! MUCH more fun!
Ron says:

Oct 22 2013 at 7:20 am

@Marko

@Buck Rogers Forgive me if this comes off as comparing my experiences to yours in service as mine do not compare. That said, I can relate to the boot story. I bought a new pair of Red Wing classic mocs this spring before this summer's expedition. They were my wet boots, every day, for 70 days, and 1200 miles. They will never be the same again and I can't bring myself to try to bring them back. They're shriveled and worn and tell many stories. Now they sit.

What are you doing, buddy? Don't you know boots like that are only to be worn to the bar with pricey denim, rolled up just right? Who uses boots or outdoor gear for...the outdoors? You gotta reappropriate that stuff, workwear is now high fashion.

Right on, Buck! It's bizarre what has become "attractive" in the modern woman. All those weird reality shows on t.v. (which I don't have), but they're hard to ignore with the internet, grocery line magazines, the liquor store...they have "signature" boozes now!

Signs of life, those are what make people unique and women attractive.
scaler911 says:

Oct 22 2013 at 8:01 am

Is it still sacred if it's more on your face than on your whip?

@gaswepass (l) @scaler911 (r). hangers on in the background. Photo by J.L. (used without his permission, but he probably won't care or will make me suffer on his wheel at a later date)
Velodeluded says:

Oct 22 2013 at 8:13 am

Hit the nail on the head as always Frank! I have just completed a 160km charity ride at the tail end of last week. Encountered roads full of twigs, wet leaves, grit, stones and cow shit pretty much the entire route. Took me until yesterday to bring myself to clean it off, such was the sense of pride in getting it to that state. Once done though I must say that I felt a deep love for my trusty number one once more...
Buck Rogers says:

Oct 22 2013 at 9:47 am

@scaler911 Awesome photo! And no lack of crow's-feet-creating faces there!
Andre the Fish says:

Oct 22 2013 at 11:04 am

@Marcus

@Buck Rogers

your story has given me a lot of relief. I used to think that really hot chicks often looked disinterested when they were around me because they weren't interested in me.

Now i find out that they were just trying to delay their crow's feet.
I got some phone calls to make.

Off to tell my missus that I have discovered her secret - its not me at all!

@Frank another great piece of writing revealing yet another fundamental truth about how our brains work. I have similar experiences with smeared and stained kit that seem to miss the wash that subconsciously I must consider battle scars.
frank says:

Oct 22 2013 at 11:26 am

@Gianni

For someone like you to leave your bike dirty, it has to be some very important dirt.

The Roubaix dust ranks right up there.

Its hard to photograph dust in a meaningful way, but the same thing happened again this year.

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The winter riding on the north shore of Maui guarantees some rain, grit and some sun. It's almost not worth giving the bike a complete gleaming wash knowing it's going to get covered in grime the next time out. So I admit to sometimes returning from Sunday ride quite spent, hose off the majority of shiet, dry off chain and wait until later for a foamy wash. Forgive me Eddy, I'm a bad man.

I admit to doing the same when commuting by bike in winter; a full cleaning just seems to pointless. But none of that dirt or grit is sacred, it's just nasty crap that should be pulled off the machine as soon as you can get to it.
frank says:

Oct 22 2013 at 11:30 am

@Buck Rogers, @Chris

@Buck Rogers Powerful contrasting stories about the value we place on things. Chapeau.

Seconded. Amazing. While nowhere near the same level of importance, I do hold this same philosophy with most of my gear that I use; stains and tears and scrapes and scratches all serve as reminders for the journey, especially if the journey was meaningful or took something dear from us. Its a shame to wipe those memories away for the sake of keeping something pristine.
frank says:

Oct 22 2013 at 11:34 am

@Marko, @Nate

@Marko It was nothing like the Heck but I had to overhaul my BB after Eggtimer's Gran Fondo, due to the unpaved portion of the ride. It was a most rewarding bit of wrenching.

I'm still waiting on my headset bearing after Heck (the shop didn't order the right one). I even lost my chain to the cause. I had to pull the brakes apart and clean out the grit and grease the bushings. Amazingly destructive.

@Ron

Aside from the bicycles, what about our own bodies. After some particularly wet or muddy rides I find myself reluctant to wash my legs, enjoying how the Guns look from lower thigh to lower leg, the grit contrasted against my clean feet and upper thighs.

If the ride was cold, I'll clean up immediately just to keep from getting sick, but I will proudly stare at my Flemish Tanlines as the water washes them away.

@Pedale.Forchetta

That's the way it is.

High praise. Thanks.