Clouds hang heavy in the sky, plump with a rain which contemplates the opportunity to hurl itself towards the Earth below. I get the sense that we wait for each other, the Rain and I; the rain relishes the opportunity to soak my clothes and skin, seeking to corrode my resolve while I cherish the opportunity to prove to myself that it will not be shaped by such things.
As a kid, I had an illustrated book of Aesop’s Fables. This time of year, I’m often reminded of one fable in particular, that of the Wind and the Sun. As the tale goes, the two are in the midst of an argument over which is the stronger when they spot a traveller on the road below. The Sun suggests that whichever of them can cause the traveller to take off his cloak will be declared the winner. The Wind blows and blows with all its might but the traveller only pulls his cloak closer. The Sun, on the other hand, beams with all its yellow glory, and the traveller soon finds it too hot for his cloak and discards it.
Aesop’s moral was that kindness is more effective than severity, but that sounds a lot like it would require introspection to really digest. Instead, I like to think of myself as the traveller and my resolve as the cloak; the worse the weather, the closer I pull it to me and the more determined I am to hold my course. In fact, this concept extends to any hardship in life; the greater the challenge, the stronger my determination.
So there we are, the Rain and I, waiting for each other; me with my cloak and the Rain with its severity. At this time of year, when the skies have turned grey but the chill hasn’t yet arrived to keep it company, I enjoy waiting for the rain to fall before embarking on my rides. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the questioning looks from the neighbors who descend from their homes in coats and hiding beneath their umbrellas for the journey from front door to automobile; they serve as further evidence that the public still has some distance yet to cover before understanding the Velominatus.
The rain pours down and in minutes soaks my clothes. Rain drops drip from the brim of my cycling cap; when I clench my fist, water steams from the fingers of my gloves. The roads are soaked; both the rain and traffic cast debris towards the gutters. My path crosses between the two and the grit and dirt afloat in the rain water are flung onto my machine and body.
When I return home from the ride, the evidence of my journey is carried in my clothing which is heavy with water and debris. Overshoes and knee warmers, once removed, reveal my Flemish Tan Lines via the clean skin beneath.
Perhaps Flanders is a place not defined by the borders between people, but between wool and flesh. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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The whole mudguards/no mudguards thing is a cultural divide, as far as I can see. It's historic in the UK to have a properly equipped rain bike, whereas in the US it's all about having a bike that looks like it should be in a race, no matter what the weather. UK = function before form, US = form over function.
@Oli
That sounds to me like a nail being hit firmly on the head....Sometimes forget that we are all over the world, it is strange when the forum seems quite quiet just before bed, yet I wake in the morning to entire conversations that have taken place in my absence. Yep as you say, here in the UK you could well be berated for turning up to club runs without correctly fitting mudguards in the depths of winter and spat out the back of the group for the morning because of your spray...which is obviously bad because you are precluded from taking your pull and being able to lay down some V in the wind!
@mouse
well played, I still think it's weird cos the legs don't look anywhere near that different in terms of distance from the camera.
@Oli fenders are one step away from a handlebar basket....they are sensible right?!
@Beers
You're talking to a guy who lives in Seattle. I know a thing or two about rain. In my experience you gain zero comfort (you're still getting rained on, remember)...
@Oli
I call bullshit on that completely.
Perceived Benefit of mudguards: Less maintenance, more comfort (both of these are wrong; the maintenance is not significantly reduced and neither is the comfort significantly improved)
On the other hand, mud guards (I'll concede this is the proper name, not fenders, by the way) add weight, noise, make it hard to change tire, can no longer fork-mount it in the car, and make maintenance and cleanup harder. I also suspect they increase tire wear since they rarely can keep off the damn things, but I eighty-sixed my fenders before I could prove that to be the case.
Riding without mudguards means my bike rides better, handles better, and is more simple to maintain. I would say that's very functional.
@Tobin
Nice!
I've kept my Cervelo S5 pristine since purchasing it in July...pre-dawn ride this morn in Melbourne Australia, didn't check radar and got completely shat on by a fat lingering thundercloud hidden by the pre-dawn. Bike trashed and requiring total clean. The upside? Magnificent Belgian tan lines. Thanks for adjusting my expectation Velominatus!
@frank It's all good frank! I know your point of view, and it speaks volumes. I particularly liked having a drier ass, that's all. Maybe I just have a sensitive tush.
Def know you are from Seattle. I've been there and it is really nice. 900mm of rain a year apparently. Went to watch a Huskies game there, which was sick, never forget it.
We also know a thing or two about rain in the Waitak' Ranges
A commuter machine that is designed as a whole mudguard.
My thought about the fenders is pretty simple- the biggest difference riding the commute is not eating road contents. The rain gets you wet, no shit. But boy, the spray from The front wheel is just grody. I dont put em on my race rig nor cx/mtb rigs. And a 4hr group ride, other than quieting those who would complain about it, it is pissing in the wind to have em- they dont really stop the spray from teh paceline well. But for my 530am in the dark rain commute trying to wake up for an hour and keep eyes open- not ready to eat decomposed leaves and gravel. And i welcome the additional weight(the commuterford is one hefty bitch now) for these compacted training rides. Makes the race rigs seem that much more winged. So there u go.
@gaswepass There is a time and a place for everything -- and a purpose! This post makes perfect sense.