Bike Snob - Anonymous [42]
Sadly as with most fleeting moments of enlightenment, the central message here didn’t stick. After a few hours I’m sorry to report I was thumbing through magazines lusting over race gear. Sure, I had raced well in my jeans, but I needed those pants. At the same time, though, I never forgot how great that feeling was, and unlike other brief moments of ecstasy I was able to reproduce the joy of racing again and again. I still do, and I feel that nervousness followed by elation almost every time I race. It’s there no matter what, and how much you worry about clothing and equipment is mostly just a matter of choice. I mean, the stuff has to work and all, but at a certain point it’s sort of like worrying about which suit to be buried in.
Subcultures aren’t all bad. Sometimes you’re attracted to a look or a machine (such as a bike), you try it out, and you discover something you love. Then again, sometimes the subculture can be all about the trappings, in which case it’s mostly just a trap. Not only can fussing with the trappings keep you from enjoying the valuable thing that lies beneath your own subculture, but it can also keep you from exploring a different one. The only thing worse than obsessing over your race bike is obsessing over your race bike you’ll never race. It’s like tuning an instrument you’ll never play. And swearing an oath that you’ll only ride one type of bike (“Fixed Forever!”) is almost as bad as never riding at all. As a physical endeavor cycling requires some thought about equipment and clothes, and where there’s equipment and clothes there are subcultures. But the most important thing to remember is that nobody has stewardship or dominion over the joys of cycling. Just treat all the posturing like a BMX race—a bunch of nonsense that evaporates the second the gate goes down.
PART THREE
Advanced Cycling
LETTING GO
The burden of bicycle ownership
Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of a bike ride.
—John F. Kennedy
If you’re a cyclist, you’re a cyclist no matter how you ride, where you ride, why you ride, or what you ride. Outside of formal competition, where strict rules govern the type of equipment used, or local laws, which might require things like lights, you can ride whatever you want. All you need is a bicycle. Any bicycle. Granted, you don’t technically need to own a bicycle. Theoretically, you can still be a cyclist if you scrounge around and borrow a bike whenever you feel like taking a ride. But really, that’s extremely inconvenient, and even the most frugal cyclists eventually part with some money in exchange for a bike.
It can also feel really good to own a bicycle. If your bicycle is well-suited to you and the kind of riding you do, you tend to form a bond with it. And as long as you keep your wallet closed and your pants on, forming a bond with your bike is a good thing—it’s part of the pleasure of being a cyclist. After all, if you’re a cyclist you almost certainly have an appreciation for the machine itself. In addition to—or perhaps because of—what the bicycle can do, the form itself is visually pleasing. Bicycles are compact and lightweight, especially considering the fact that you can ride them for hours at a time at relatively high speeds. Sometimes they’re also the product of a skilled craftsman, which can add to their appeal. You might even catch yourself gazing at your