Song: Landslide by Fleetwood Mac
It Wasn’t the first or the last time a bike left me stranded. At this point in my life, it’s not about having “the legs” or endurance to sustain a ride, event, or race—but rather a transparent awareness of accepting what I have and who I am. Whether you have a carbon or steel frame, a mechanical or electronic drivetrain, understanding and accepting your bike’s limitations are the keys to overcoming challenges.
Do I stop my ride and abandon my pursuit of joy temporarily because my bike’s chain is broken and my spokes are dangling by the hub? Nope, that ain’t me. Recognizing, respecting, and honoring the relationship you have with your bike is a process of growth, work, and commitment that will take you further than you can imagine. On the physical side of riding, I recognize I will never manage the stress of being shoulder to shoulder in a crit. Nevertheless, I do it, understanding there are lessons to be learned and joys worth fighting to discover. The only way out is through, when it comes to endurance rides, when you’re at mile 31 of 50, drained and confused from your unrelenting dedication to pursue the goal. I can understand the physical limitations, but it hurts when you realize your bike lets you down as a result of stubborn neglect or your inability to change the parts necessary to function in unison with it.
One thing cycling has taught me about life and that life has taught me about cycling is they both take work, honesty, trust, and open communication. Life’s distractions can take away from the work that’s needed to keep you and your bike in harmony. Whether you lube the chain, drain hydraulic lines, or do your intervals, it’s your bike that endures the work to get you where you want to be.
When you don’t honor the opportunities and commitments that come with the bike, you create a storm of your own doing. Your chain is dry and angry from lack of attention, and your brakes squeal from being contaminated by foreign elements (you know, the muck that tags along uninvited).
It’s also disappointing when you’re not prepared to do the work or don’t have the right tools to support the job you need to do. Stuff happens, and how a rider responds in the moment does not define or limit the destination, it creates the ability to understand what went wrong and how to move toward that destination with this newfound awareness. Trust me: It sucks when you don’t have a chain tool and all you want to do is ditch your derailleur and go singlespeed.
But the fault rarely falls on the bike, and you should never abandon it—even if you have to walk it home. The time together, moving slowly through the landscape, does the soul some good. Better hurry up, the sun is setting and the road home is long. Never give up on your bike, because it won’t give up on you.
Doing the work along the way—before, during, and after the ride—is always necessary. Checking in on your bike and taking a good hard look at what you both need to change is critical to function as a pair. Whether it’s a worn chainring or a crusty top-tube bolt, now is always better than never to check in on your bike. Otherwise, acknowledge as a rider that you cannot manage the work that comes with the bike: the hours, dedication, and commitment necessary to enjoy the gift we all pursue, the joy and hope of another ride with your bike.
Remember, at the end of the day it’s your bike. You picked it out: the color, the brand, the saddle. It was all your choice, and all the bike wants is to take you to places you’ve never been together. To experience the highs and lows of the landscape, to bear witness to the strength you exert, and to gently carry you home on the breeze.
The next time you catch a flat or break your shift cable, know that it’s not the end of the world but rather the beginning of a new plateau and horizon. Allow time to be your guide and pedal gently into the unknown. The world is your sea, the bike your vessel, and dry land awaits to reap the rewards of all your efforts. The joys the bike can provide—and the lessons it can teach you—are second to none.
