Some Big Questions
Bicycling magazine used to have a monthly feature called “The Big Question”, queries which solicited short, witty contributions from readers. After my recent review of my old magazines, I decided to post my responses to a few of them. I’m sorry they’re more serious than witty, but that’s my nature, and hopefully they’ll give you a little more knowledge about me as a cyclist.
How did you get into cycling?
When I moved into Boston, I spent several years inline skating. For some reason, I decided to start commuting to work (2 miles) by bike, and then the challenge of a long ride started to call to me.
Who would you most like to turn into a cyclist?
Without question, my former, future, and present significant others. Part of that is to promote healthy activity, but the other half is to share all the beautiful places I’ve seen and experiences I’ve had in the saddle, which just can’t be communicated in words. It’s a part of my life that they have never been able to share or fully appreciate.
When do you feel most like a cyclist?
What’s your bike’s favorite season?
This one’s easy: late summer. Winter’s too cold, and spring is beset by strong headwinds and the painful process of training up to peak fitness. In late summer, it’s still beautifully warm out, but with all one’s major events done, one can forget training and ride for the pure enjoyment of it, reveling in the ease that comes with peak fitness.
How did you pick your bike?
First I identified the criteria I’d use to make a decision. Second, I reviewed the literature to identify bikes that would meet those criteria. Then I went out and rode lots of bikes, because the real final determiner is how the bike feels under you. Then I bought from the closest LBS to my house.
How do you know when you’ve found the right bike?
When it feels like a part of you, allowing you to move through the world almost effortlessly.
What does your bike want?
The Plastic Bullet would love to have its youthful vigor and health back. After 12,000 miles of riding, it’s had tires, wheels, cranks, bottom bracket, chainrings, chains, cassettes, and a brake/shift lever replaced, and the frame has acquired a bunch of little dings. It’s starting to look a bit beat, but it should continue to serve for a while yet.
What gender is your bike?
My bike doesn’t have a gender. “Bicycle” *is* a gender.
Old-school or cutting-edge?
Cutting-edge, no question. I never want to become one of those old-school cranks with their Brooks saddles and Sturmey-Archer hubs and DPW-surplus reflective vests.
Eat to ride or ride to eat?
Can you tell me any reason why I should need to choose between them?
Faster climb or faster sprint?
Climbs have always motivated me, whereas sprints just seem like typical male dicksizing. And I’ve never been a fast-twitch muscle fiber guy. My sprint lasts about 3400 milliseconds.
Faster or farther?
Definitely farther. See previous question! Plus by going farther you get to see more interesting places. Going faster just means you’re less present to experience the beauty of the locale you’re riding through.
How far do you go?
How far *can* I go?
What finally makes you quit?
My knees are rapidly going to hell, and I get terrible neck pain on longer rides. I was always surprised that lack of strength is never the limiting factor; instead, it’s these niggling little incapacities that have nothing to do with your actual stamina, endurance, and desire.
When do you go slow?
I go slow a fair amount of the time. Unless you’re training, there’s no real need to push yourself to go faster.
What’s the best cycling advice you ever got?
Probably the best suggestion was a meta-suggestion: go check out the rides Bobby Mac puts on at Quad Cycles. I have to credit Bobby with nurturing the inspiration, drive, and know-how for me to develop into an experienced and accomplished cyclist.
What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done on a bike?
This is a tough one, but I think my big childhood bike accident qualifies. A friend grabbed my baseball glove and rode off. When I caught up to him on my bike, I veered into him sideways to intimidate him so that he’d give it back. In the process, his pedal went into the spokes of my front wheel, and I instantly was thrown over the bars. Not my best planned strategy.
What makes a ride great?
A great ride consists of enjoying the spectacle of nature, the inner quietness that comes with focused riding, the physical ease that comes with peak fitness, and sharing all of that with close friends.
What did you smell on your last ride?
It’s spring, so typical seasonal smells include dogwood, lilacs, spreadered manure, and the cool, watery smell of lakes and rivers.
Where’s the best place to end a ride?
The ice cream shop, duh!
How has cycling changed you?
Has cycling made you a better person?
Absolutely. I’m healthier, wealthier, more philanthropic, and more at peace with nature, all because I’m a cyclist.
What’s the greatest thing you’ve ever done on a bike?
I don’t think I could answer this any other way than to say that I have derived a ton of satisfaction from the $60,000 I’ve raised (so far) for cancer research by riding in the Pan-Mass Challenge.
What was your best moment on a bike?
This is a tough one, but the thing that immediately comes to mind is the first time I crossed the PMC finish line in Provincetown.
What was your toughest mile?
At 112 miles, the first day of the PMC is always tough. Although that first time I finished in Provincetown was also hard, because I was having severe knee pain.
How is bicycling like a religion?
Cycling has its own ethics and culture, along with many different “sects”. Cycling is a solitary activity that promotes quiet contemplation. Cyclists know that although we each understand the joy of the ride, it’s something that can’t be communicated in words to someone who hasn’t experienced it themselves. Even between cyclists, that feeling can only be shared, not fully captured in words.
Why don’t the others understand?
Because they view the bike in a very limited way. There’s one thing that bicycles share with automobiles and trains and motorcycles, which is a sense of freedom and exploration. That’s why all these conveyances inspire enthusiast groups who all share a very similar kind of passionate devotion. If you compare cycling to the great American love affair with the automobile and the open road, you will actually see an awful lot of similarities.
What’s cycling’s greatest lesson?
Simplicity of life has immense payoffs that easily eclipse the hectic, self-obsessed, compulsiveness and materialism of modern life.