Bike Snob - Anonymous [16]
VELO-TAXONOMY
The Various Subsets of Cyclists
Bicycles are the new Rollerblades, talentless is the new talented, and I’m in hog heaven.
—Ryan Seacrest
The world of cycling is like a big bowl of Lucky Charms—it’s full of lots of goofy-looking figures in different colors and shapes, but they all come together to be delicious. Furthermore, different people partake in the world of cycling in different ways. Some like to pick out the marshmallows one at a time, others like the crunchy stuff, and still others like to let the bowl sit there for an hour so they can eat the whole thing in one soggy mass. If you’re new to cycling, you might find this bewildering array of people confusing and intimidating, and as such you might be a bit reluctant to dig in. However, while any unfamiliar group of people seems aloof and inscrutable at first, you can rest assured that they’re actually pretty easy to figure out. Here are some of the more recognizable characters you’ll find floating in the milk of cycling:
The Roadie
The Roadie is, in a certain sense, the prototypical cyclist. Road racing is certainly not the oldest form of competitive cycling, but it does have a long history and it is by far the most popular competitive discipline. After all, even people who can’t tell a road bike from a mountain bike have heard of the Tour de France. The drop bars, the jersey with rear pockets, the tight shorts, and the diminutive brimmed cycling cap together embody the cyclist in the popular imagination.
Because road cycling is steeped in tradition (and occasionally garnished with attitude), every single aspect of road cycling—from clothing choice to equipment choice to hand signals to which way to pull off the front of a paceline—is governed by rules. And like all rules, some of them have evolved out of necessity, and some of them are simply tradition for tradition’s sake. In this sense, road cyclists are like the Amish, or like Hasidic Jews, in that they are by far the most orthodox of cyclists. Sure, you might not want to be one, but you’re still kind of glad they’re there. Like orthodox religious sects, Roadies are also immediately recognizable by their appearance, though generally they eschew austere dark robes in favor of festively colored Lycra.
The negative view of the Roadie is that he or she is overly fastidious, snotty, and aloof—the Eustace Tilley or even the Martha Stewart of the cycling world. On the other hand, the romantic view is that Roadies are the toughest of all cyclists, and that their careful preparation and studied appearance is a natural expression of this mental and physical toughness. After all, the true road racer is accustomed to spending hours and hours in the saddle, often in the service of a teammate. A paceline is sometimes called a “chain gang,” and it’s certainly true that the racing cyclist is part flagellant and part soldier.
But there’s a deeper truth to the Roadie as well. Beneath all the training and suffering and Lycra and embrocations, the fact is that all Roadies are freeloading cheats.
I’m not talking about doping. No, Roadies are freeloading cheats because the true essence of road cycling is the conservation of energy. Naturally, the only way a bicycle is going to move is if a person puts energy into it, and they do what they can to make their bodies strong, but there the effort ends. Beyond this, everything else is based on not making an effort. It’s based on making things as light and aerodynamic as possible; it’s based on drafting behind other riders for as long as possible; and it’s about expending as little effort as sparingly and effectively as possible. The Roadie is always looking for a wheel to follow and an advantage to employ. Just watch a professional bike racer take a drink from the team car. He or she will always hold on to the bottle for as long as possible.