Bike Snob - Anonymous [50]
Bikes have wheels.
—Noam Chomsky
Cycling can seem complicated, especially for the newcomer. What kind of bike do you buy? Where do you ride it? What are the rules? How do you get fit? What sort of equipment do you use? You can devote a tremendous amount of time and energy fretting over these things. You can also confuse yourself even further by turning to more experienced cyclists for advice. Really, asking cyclists anything is a bad idea. The problem isn’t that cyclists can’t agree; it’s that they’re hyper-obsessive and anal. A simple question like, “What kind of saddle should I get?” will somehow result in a twenty-minute discourse on brass versus alloy spoke nipples. And while this is an important subject, when it comes to where you should put your ass it simply isn’t information you can use.
So much of ownership is complicated. Loans, leases, zero percent down, no interest for thirty days, warranties—buying a car or a major appliance is more complicated than life decisions that are actually important, like picking a college or a job. Thankfully, bicycles are simple—you buy them and that’s that. Furthermore, riding them is as simple as buying them. Once you’ve got a bike, you ride it. That’s it! The only reason cycling seems so complicated to the uninitiated is that we cyclists complicate it unnecessarily, since we need to feel like we’re special and we’re doing something regular people can’t do. But the real beauty of cycling is that it isn’t complicated at all. Yes, there is a lot to learn, but really the hardest part is actually learning how to ride the bike. And fortunately most people learned that very early on. The rest is just putting the thing between your legs and pedaling it. The machine and your body will then teach you everything you need to know.
Listen to the Bike
So much of what we do in life requires testing, and licensing, and training, and apprenticeship, and specific amounts of experience. Cycling is not one of these things. Simply turn the pedals and it will reveal itself to you. The scales will fall from your eyes. Granted, they might also develop in your crotch, but that’s just the bike teaching you to wear proper attire and use chamois cream if necessary. While you can pay a coach or a trainer to teach you how to train and to maximize your performance, you really don’t need to. Actually, unless you’re a professional athlete whose livelihood depends on coaxing every last watt from your body and shaving fractions of a second from your time trial, hiring a coach is pretty ridiculous. Riding your bike should be something you want to do. Do you need to pay someone to tell you how to enjoy yourself?
If cycling seems at all complicated, that’s because companies want it to seem complicated so they can continue to grow and sell more and more things. Take “bike fitting,” for example. Bike fitting is simply making sure a rider is using the correct- sized frame, and then making sure the various components are also the proper size and in the proper place. It’s fairly straightforward. However, over the years increasingly complex methods of bike fitting have evolved, some of which involve things like lasers, and most of which cost hundreds of dollars for a session. Similarly, a notion has evolved that if you’re going to be doing any kind of “serious” cycling (whatever that means) that you need to have a bike fitting.
Cycling should not involve lasers. Lasers are for eye surgery. There’s already enough white skintight clothing, strangely-shaped tubing, and bad hairstyles in cycling—adding lasers to the whole thing just makes the eighties nightmare complete. I’m surprised they don’t use smoke machines for these bike fittings too. When I go to a bike shop that’s got a big fitting area I half expect Turbo B from Snap! to burst out of the stockroom, remove his helmet to reveal his perfect high-top fade, and start singing “I Got the Power.” Really, if the typical road bike doesn’t turn you off, then the prospect of sitting on one while someone shoots lasers at you is sure to finish