La Vie Velominatus: The Gifts of Rule #9
We’re not really supposed to have favorites, but everyone does. Just ask your parents. So while I’m not supposed to have a favorite, I do, and its Rule #9.
Bad weather immediately separates the wheat from the chaff, and so the weekend warriors stay indoors and leave the roads to the devout. I talk most often about riding in the rain, with the drops of water dripping from my cap acting as my personal metronome as I carve a path through the chaos towards a happier self. But sunny days in the cold can provide their own glorious solitude.
On Keepers Tour 2013, we had unseasonably cold weather, and some of the best rides we had were early morning spins before heading off to the races. With the sun hanging low over the horizon, we rode through our frozen breath, together in close formation yet each of us retreating inward as we steeled ourselves against the cold. These were beautiful, peaceful rides.
This winter in Seattle has been relatively dry, but also cold. On the weekends, the country roads are nearly deserted and all that is left is the silent, still air and the burning of cold air as it enters my lungs. On a recent solo ride on Whidbey Island, I spun down the same roads which only a few months earlier I had ridden with friends on the annual Whidbey Island Cogal. The island seems a full place then, now it looked like an entirely different place – empty and beautiful.
There is something about the way the bike handles in the cold. The tires are firmer, the rubber less supple. The connection between bicycle and road seems simultaneously harsher and more fragile than in the warm. The muscles in my arms and hands are also more twitchy in the cold. Not twitchy like I can suddenly sprint; twitchy like I have difficulty controlling what they are doing – where normally I pride myself on holding a clean line, in the cold a small bump in the road might trigger a spasm that sends the bike into a wobble. Its an exciting way to ride.
Quiet roads, a still harbor, an early morning sunrise; these are the gifts reserved for those who ventured out when others stay in. These are the gifts of Rule #9.
Vive la Vie Velominatus.
Festive500 always makes us love Rule #9, here in Europe.
I used to love the Rule #9 rides until this season. Out on a wet ride and the mixture of moisture and spilt diesel sneaked under my front wheel and I kissed the tarmac. Nothing broken but the brand new Bianchi bar tape looked like it had been attacked by a cheese grater. Not gorgeous at all.
The flip-side of the deep freeze in the north-east US is an oddly mild (ca. 5-10°C) winter here in Germany at the moment — which at least keeps the ice off the roads. It’s made for some beautiful rides the last few days, also in Aquitaine where I was visiting. Add rain before dawn this morning and no-one else was out. Mind you, I was — whisper it — running today…
One of my favourite rides so far was through icy fog and rain in Winterberg a year ago. Mind, the hot shower afterwards has absolutely never been topped.
Wet and windy then I am afraid I am weak. Cold and sunny – these are the best bad days. But as @pash has pointed out a fall, mine on ice, is not gorgeous at all. Now looking forward to early morning spring rides
Thanks for the great article, Frank. Rule #9 is my favorite as well. I know it’s been reiterated many times, but there’s definitely something special about the narrowed consciousness of riding in foul weather. I had the privilege of spending a little over three hours in 35 degrees and rain yesterday. Soul-cleansing…
One of my favorite things about riding in the cold weather is the smell of burning firewood as I ride through residential areas.
Rule #9 is my favorite as it is an escape clause. No matter how many rule transgressions I may have, I am a badass. Period!
Thanks for the great read Frank. Down here in Louisiana we get our fair share of the wet and some of the cold and lately a lot of both. I’ve been adding new armor to my cycling inventory to steel myself: rain jackets, embrocation and the like. I love riding out in the crap, it makes the beautiful, clear days even more special. Here in the deep, dirty south people don’t like to drive in bad weather so my weekend rides in the wet can become a fortress of solitude or if I’m lucky I can share my pain with a few other souls. One of my best rides already was a 72 mile trek on New Years morning with three others into the mist while everyone else was hung over or indoors, Rule #9 was in full effect.
True solitude is found in the cold. For some odd reason the paths and roads seem that much quieter when the temperatures drop. Not from the lack of others on the road, it’s at times an eerie stillness.
(waiting for the response from a chemist about less movement in molecules blah blah blah.)
Nice read, thanks Frank.
Winter Rule #9 rides. I love the thought of them, I enjoy that part when the odd pedestrian and driver sees you heading out and just shakes their head and I love thinking about them afterwards. It’s that bit in the middle when the hands are frozen and useless, I know in the shower my toes are going to feel like I’m shoving glass through the nails and I can hear the road salt eating my machine once I stop that I find myself asking why I always put myself through that. But I do. Now my body is conspiring to limit Rule #9 exposure, asthma frequently reacts badly to temperatures approaching 0 deg C and I need longer off the bike to recover from whatever mucus filled misery follows. Longer than I always end up doing.
It’s semi controlled experimentation, different kit, different layers, different durations and intensities. One day I’ll find what works best. Until then its wrap up and ride on.
VLVV
In high school physics, I learned about energy and heat and how even the “solids” in the world around me — metal chairs, concrete floors, wooden tables — had motion at the atomic level. On cold days, the motion slowed. On hot days, it would increase and things like tar on the road outside our country school would “melt” — noticeable changes in (V)iscosity.
I’ve long thought that the cold air not only holds the crowds inside and lends my rides quiet serenity, but it also slows down the motion — motion in the guns, in the bike, the air being squeezed between tire and tarmac — of everything to the extent that time itself slows. It is my theory; after all, Einstein loved to ride a bike too.
Rule #9, has to be the best one, if not during then definitely afterwards, but as stated above we all get a spartan pleasure while being out there on the road in most anything mother nature has to throw at us. Here in darkest Perthshire it has been fairly constant wind, rain and sleet, not much above freezing, some icy mornings only. Dont see too many folks out. Pic from this morning (please excuse rear fender, apologies)…..
@DCR I was literally about to direct you to something a read about cold weather and haunting silence r until I saw the last sentence.
That Festive500, what a devil she is. While I’ve never considered myself competitive, this year was surely a bout between myself and Mother Nature. 211kms through MA, NH, and VT. Average temp of -5. Had 11.75hr of journey time, 1.5 or so which were under sunlight. There was a lot to learn from this adventure.
1. The human body is a puppet to your mind. I was thoroughly frozen through and dehydrated due to frozen bottles, that it wasn’t possible to know how to physically pedal. As long as I thought of the pedal stroke, the legs would move in proper fashion. While in most favorable conditions, pedaling is done automato, it did require some mental stimuli to not completely seize up.
2. It is possible to freeze your eyes both open and shut, simultaneously. I failed to pack clear lenses and went without eyewear the better part of 10hrs. Between the winds, the snow, and the temps, it was a struggle to see the triangle of light, let alone outside it. I would raise my brows in hopes that the eyelids would follow, but unsuccessfully found nothing moved. Likewise, any effort to close them was met with similar humor. Forget about making time up on the descents. Tears would flow out and immediately freeze. Pretty awesome in hindsight.
3. Ignorance is truly bliss. Having only a speckle of light in front of me on the backroads proved a valuable ally. I don’t recall ever going up any hard climbs, just that I moved along very slowly, if not purposefully.
All that said, I’m not sure if there is bad weather, just poor preparation.
I do testify to the bounteous gifts bestowed by #9 training. Last winter I had neither rollers nor stationary trainer, so I rode in all kinds of miserable weather – and often when I shouldn’t have. In the spring, in a road race which took a page from the 2013 Milan – San Remo a few weeks earlier, we encountered rain; snow; sleet and hail. Any thought of abandoning was pushed aside, knocked over, and beaten senseless by the abiding knowledge “I’ve ridden in worse.” #9 rules!
@strathlubnaig that’s a fabulous, moody photo!
Rule #9 has to be the one for me at this time of year, but at 7:30am yesterday morning, as my rear wheel touched its first small patch of black ice in the pre-dawn and gave me a half second wake up call, I was closely coupling it with Rule #10.
@frank – republish this article in summer and I suspect you may get some different rules stated as favourites by folks.
Now, where’s that gorilla?
@pash
@withoutanyhills
Same method applies as a fall on a decent – You wipe yourself down, you get back on, and you start to see how fast you can ride until you fall again.
@pash
Oh hush up you big sissy. Wouldn’t you rather have those scars on the bike and the memories of the rides than a pristine machine?
Bars can be re-wrapped, but in all seriousness a fall will always shake the confidence. Just don’t let it keep you off the bike. Back on the horse and all that.
@withoutanyhills
There is indeed a reason Rule #64 exists!
@titirangisi
To be fair to @withoutanyhills that’s tougher to do with a broken hip, either that or is serious V
@Cajun Pseudo-Belgian
Perfect.
@JohnB
Asthma-induced mucus-filled misery? I am lucky not to have the pneumonia version of asthma that you appear to have yuck.
I just bring my inhaler on those rides and it keeps the demons at bay.
Those showers can be torture. Cold and 0C is one thing, add wet in there and you will be colder than an arctic monkey.
@Teocalli
I did try to get back on, honest. I only called for help after I had crawled from the middle of the road to the kerb, dragged my bike next to me, had a ten minute lie down and failed twice to stand up.
@klassman
And when Einstein was asked to prove he was right about this theories which were unprovable at the time, he just said something like, “I know I’m right, so you prove I’m wrong.”
I like that man’s style.
@titirangisi
That’s the spirit mate.
The rub, of course, is just getting out in the weather. Like hopping in the Pacific Ocean (the PNW part anyway), you just have to suck it up and dive in. Then once you’re numb, everything else becomes fun.
Is there the other extremefor Rule #9?
Rolling up for a post work ride none else came for. A fast ride out along a well worn country road in deathly quiet, even the black cockatoos were in hiding. Warm air rolling over me drying the sweat before it dripped in my eyes. Freshly harvested wheat field to left and roght marked the turnaround. One bidon down it was going to be tight getting back to town.
A head wind, body temperature at least, no relief there and a second bidon down by halfway home. None of that easy acessible water out here, not much that’s hard to get either. Push on as the wind strengthens.
Stop sweating with five kilometers to go. Feeling the V, no chance to surrender. Make it feeling wrecked.
As I walk in the door the wife asks “what the hell are you doing? It’s still 39.5c out there.”
@Roobar the UCI is having that debate right now, but on the cold end of the spectrum.
@El Cannon having trouble with posting links from my phone http://m.cyclingnews.com/news/when-is-it-too-cold-to-race-cyclo-cross
I generally can’t ride in Rule #9 conditions because I live too far south. I’m thankful for this cold snap we’re having in the U.S., as I do miss cold weather rides, though I don’t miss four months of snow.
I too enjoy the rain on the cap brim. I also especially enjoy the zip/unzip ritual – a bit hot, a few centimeters of exposed neck can cool you off. Once recalibrated, a zip up can restore order. I love the search for equilibrium and the satisfaction of choosing the perfect clothes for the conditions, where you feel great while riding, but if you stop for too long, you get cold. A small pleasure of seeking peace during a long solo ride.
@Roobar
Most definitely:
Rule #9 . . . Those who ride in foul weather – be it cold, wet, or inordinately hot – are members of a special club of riders . . .
I’m new here (been reading for a while without posting any comments) so still learning the rules and not yet figured out my favourite. But I do enjoy riding in poor weather – I went out yesterday in the cold rain, and as I set off I muttered to myself, “there won’t be many out today, only hard bastards!”
@frank love the photo, looking very pro. Was that the morning of the Ronde?
Not only are the tyres firmer and less supple but the noise cold tubulars make is even more special.
I was punished yesterday on my first club run of the year for not braving the wind and rain over the holiday period; my bike refused to let the chain of the big ring on any of the hills. My out of shape legs were completely cooked and I was rather unceremoniously dropped after the tea and cake break.
To be fair there was an element of Rule #65 fail going on there as well, if I’d riden regularly over the holidays I would have been on top of any shifting issues.
Rule #6 would have to be my favourite. Get that right and Rule #5, Rule #9 and Rule #10 fall into place. I’ll need it in the morning, commuting starts again tomorrow and there’s a bit of a wind going on out there at the moment.
@scaler911
For weak, earth-bound mortals like me (not my VMH, who is divine) selecting the right kit for the ride is right up there with choosing your parents and avoiding unwanted pregnancies. Our New Year’s Day ride was cold and damp, but we didn’t suffer unduly from the conditions. Similarly, I’ve been sea kayaking a lot lately, including in sub-freezing air temps, including practicing self-rescues in very damn cold water. I’m not going to do that wearing Froome’s new mesh teddy.
It’s been a tad chilly here in WI the past few days. Got the first ride of the year in on Saturday – a cold, damp, windy 28 degrees. Needless to say I saw no other riders. Today was a Rule #9 for the books: with an outside windchill of around -40 degrees or so, I headed for the garage and the trainer. Merckx knows what the temp in there was but I could see my breath as clear as day. I’m thinking it was in the teens. Even with tights, jacket, gloves and a hat I got warm but not hot. It might not truly qualify for Rule #9, but in my book it does. Going outside was not an option, no matter how loud Rule #5 might be ringing in my ears.
Supposed to be low 30s by the weekend. THAT’S riding weather!
@strathlubnaig
Kudos to you sir! I have family in Scotland and I hear the weather has been, to use the meteorologically-correct phrase, utter shite. Also no need to apologize for the mudguard – just good manners for winter riding in Scotia.
#9 – these days are the best, especially solo !
Delve deep and discover some stuff that on fine days in a bunch just doesnt surface.
Maybe my favourite day on a bike was a wet and cold solo ride not that long ago.
Everything smells fresh and sounds are much clearer I find
Oh yes, Rule #9. I do actually draw back the curtains and upon seeing rain, smile. No sub zero cold here (tropical) though, thankfully as that would truly test me. Plenty of hot however and 80% humidity is normal. 90% is not uncommon.
We did a 5hour/1500m ride the other day and it included much debate as to whether it qualified as Rule #9. Wind was up sure but average temp was only 33°C since we started before dawn, but it did reach 40°C. If the entire ride was in the high 30’s, sure, but avg 33… I say no but then I live in the tropics and my companions were from 1000kms south (colder).
Determination then of qualification for Rule #9 would depend on the person. If the temp get’s much about 5°C, I claim Rule #9. I’m sure however that those in colder clime’s would disagree.
@El Cannon
In fairness to the yeller tape, if you’d kept it clean properly I don’t think it would be nearly as bad as that large bidon.
I find that I experience a unique feeling, for the most part indescribable, when riding in crap weather. Be it the bitter cold, or relentless downpour of rain, there is a certain undertone of indignation to the conditions, as if to say “…to hell with you, you can’t stop me…”
Starting a ride in such conditions is always an internal struggle, especially (for me) in the rain. But once you’re out there, the evil excitement of giving mother nature the bird feels instinctual for some reason.
@scaler911
Kit up and go. Thinking’s got nothing to do with it.
@Ron
I was in NYC during the first big storm. Needed to get a cab to see Betrayal and not a cab in sight. Snow rules, but fuck me if anyone outside the midwest knows what the fuck to do with it.
The small pleasures are what makes riding an art. I love all that stuff too; being cold when you start, wondering if you shouldn’t have added more kit…then sweating later on and unzipping a layer. Then stopping for a minute and zipping everything back up and wondering if you shouldn’t have added more kit.
I love that shit. VLVV for fuckin’ sure.
@wiscot
Amen, brother. Being a few miles north of you similar weather. Thu 2 Jan did some evening ski patrol training at the local hill west of Oshkosh at -7F. Today was 4F in my garage this a.m. so I’m in the basement on my rollers.
Got outside Saturday 4 Jan as you did, and had the roads to myself. I took advantage of new pre-owned winter shoes and the great Showers Pass softshell trainer Santa left under my tree for a comfy 90 minutes. I felt quite proud of myself for picking the right day for my first 2014 outdoor ride…
@wrongsideof40
Its tough for me to say I enjoy riding in bad weather. I enjoy riding. When in bad weather, it takes somewhere an hour or so into the ride to decide, “Hey I’m glad I didn’t puss out and stay inside” …and thus I find my enjoyment, the fact I’m alive, and out on my steed.
@wrongsideof40
You might be on the wrong side of 40, but it seems you’re on the right side of figuring out what bad weather is. Cheers and welcome.
@Chris
Might have been. I do have the look of someone who is pissed off at Alex for taking us down a cobbled track the day after riding Roubaix, don’t I?
Was the punishment having a fucking tea and cake break? You brits and your tea, Merxckxy-Merckxy.
Ah, the morning commute, in rain or shine, is what keeps the “You can’t fire me! I QUIT!” conversation a fantasy, not a reality.
@PeakInTwoYears
That bewildering post was worth it just for the last line.
@wiscot
As I wrote in my column for Cyclist a few months ago, chewing on a rooster tail is just the price you pay for the luxury of a draft. Don’t like it? Go the front, don’t demand others besmirch their magnificent steed with unnecessary accouterment.
@teleguy57
You kids. In my Minnesota ski racing days, I’d happily line up for a start in -10F wearing a spandex leotard with nothing for protection but some mole skin on my cheeks and a Peter-Heater down where it matters.
And, because I was a superstitious bastard, I’d always race in my thin gloves. If you get cold, just go harder.
@frank
I like that statement very much.
@doubleR
Ah yes, this is nice. My fondest memory of visiting Cesky Krumlov, CZ was that it was cold and the entire city smelled of burning wood!
@frank
I love the banter on here, wait till I post a pick of my steed – I’m sure it’s a serial offender – but I like the idea posted earlier that Rule #9 is an escape clause, so I’ll cling to that. I may need to make some changes for the summer though!
My personal challenge relative to Rule #9 isn’t physical discomfort. It’s that I hate a filthy bike. It’s not that I dislike bicycle maintenance. It’s that the sensory input of wet grit on my drivetrain makes me feel like a certain robot.
@frank
Well-played. You would have made a successful and amusing academic.
I’d just like to say it is gratifying to discuss bad weather riding with people who get it, revel in it, and don’t shake their heads in bewilderment. I suppose the same can be said for pretty much any topic here, but particularly this one. It’s nice to be understood.