Passion

Cycling is a passion, or rather, it can become one. Many people ride a bike, not all of them can be described as passionate about it. Passion is one of those words that is not easy to explain, one has to experience passion to know what it truly is.

Cycling becomes a passion when someone rides a bike for no other reason than to experience the joy of riding a bike. If you have a passion for something in life, you are truly living. Without passion, a person is simply existing.

Sometimes the passion is in owning the bike, or collecting and owning more than one bike. Working on the bike, looking at and admiring the bike. Sometimes this passion goes hand in hand with riding the bike, but not necessarily so. The two passions can exist separately, and even one without the other.

There is a fine line between ownership as a passion, and simple materialism. The only way I can speculate the difference. If the object you own brings you joy, it is a passion.  If it is owning the object that brings joy, it is probably materialism.  

To put it another way few people have a passion for driving anymore. Few people go for a Sunday Drive, as one would go for a Sunday Bike Ride. Driving is for the purpose of reaching a destination. Owning a nice car, (The object,) brings joy, but roads are too congested to really enjoy driving the car, for driving itself to become a passion.

People who say, “Cyclists should not be on the road because it is dangerous,” just don’t get it. It is like telling a surfer it is dangerous to go into the ocean, the surfer who is passionate about surfing is not going to stop.

It is not that cyclists and surfers are crazy, foolhardy, with little regard for their life. In fact, the opposite is true. If one has a passion for life, the last thing that person wants is to end it. On the other hand, if one cannot engage in their passion, they are no longer living anyway. Life becomes a pointless existence. 

Passion can include anger, especially if someone suggests I should not pursue my passion, which happens to be riding my bike on the road. It is a road bike after all, and just as a surfer must surf in the ocean, a road bike must be ridden on the road. 

Some will say, “You have a local bike path, why don’t you ride there?” Yes I am fortunate to have a paved Walk and Bike Trail just two miles from my home. It is 7 miles long, so 14 miles out and home. But after riding it many times, the monotony has got me itching to get out on the open road, and actually go somewhere.

On weekends I pick quiet country roads to ride where there is very little motorized traffic, and actually I prefer to deal with a few cars and trucks over the dog walkers and runners on the shared path.

Of course, they have a right to be there too, so I am not complaining. Some of these runners and dog owners may be following their own passion. 

     To Share click "Share Article" below    

Passion

Cycling is a passion, or rather, it can become one. Many people ride a bike, not all of them can be described as passionate about it. Passion is one of those words that is not easy to explain, one has to experience passion to know what it truly is.

Cycling becomes a passion when someone rides a bike for no other reason than to experience the joy of riding a bike. If you have a passion for something in life, you are truly living. Without passion, a person is simply existing.

People who say, “Cyclists should not be on the road because it is dangerous,” just don’t get it. It is like telling a surfer it is dangerous to go into the ocean because of shark attacks, the surfer who is passionate about surfing is not going to stop.

It is not that cyclists and surfers are crazy, foolhardy, with little regard for their life. In fact, the opposite is true. If one has a passion for life, the last thing that person wants is to end it. On the other hand, if one cannot engage in their passion, they are no longer living anyway. Life becomes a pointless existence. 

Passion can include anger, especially if someone suggests I should not pursue my passion, which happens to be riding my bike on the road. It is a road bike after all, and just as a surfer must surf in the ocean, a road bike must be ridden on the road. 

Some will say, “You have a local bike path, why don’t you ride there?” Yes I am fortunate to have a paved Walk and Bike Trail just two miles from my home. It is 7 miles long, so 14 miles out and home. But after riding it several times during the week, the monotony has got me itching to get out on the open road, and actually go somewhere.

On weekends I pick quiet country roads to ride where there is very little motorized traffic, and actually I prefer to deal with a few cars and trucks over the dog walkers and runners on the shared path.

Of course, they have a right to be there too, so I am not complaining. Some of them may be are following their own passion. 

  To Share click "Share Article" below

A time machine, or a timeless machine

It is no secret that I am up in years, it has been sixty-five years  since I got my first lightweight racing bike.

There have been periods when I did not ride on a regular basis, usually due to the pressures of running a business.

But I always came back, and when I did, my body remebered. It knew exaxtly what to expect.

Cycling is one of my many passions in life. We need passions, it is what keeps us truly alive.

I do not feel my age, especially when I am riding my bike (Whatever my age is supposed to feel like.) I feel no different than when I rode a bike at age twenty or thirty something.

These days I ride for the pure joy and feeling of freedom it gives me. There is no pressure to go fast or push myself to the point of exhaustion. I have nothing left that I need to prove, to myself or anyone else.

Greg LeMond was once asked,

“At what point does climbing hills become easy?” His reply was, “It never gets easier, you just go faster.”

So I guess the reverse is true in my case. I know by my time for any given distance that I am not riding as fast as I did some fifty years ago, but it feels the same in my legs and the rest of my body.

Only another bike rider could know the feeling of getting out of the saddle and stomping on the pedals. The immediate response from the machine as the rubber bites into the asphalt and the bike rockets forward.

The bicycle becomes an extension of the rider, man and machine become one. The closest thing to human flight without actually leaving the ground. There is no other feeling quite like it.

Riding a road bike is, in a way, is a spiritual experience. My mind is totally in the moment, concentrating solely on the job in hand. My thoughts are only on the physical effort of propelling the bike forward, and on steering a course on the road ahead.

Other times of the day, if I am not careful, I may slip out of the moment and find my thoughts in the past or in the future. An often futile exercise, as both past and future are only in my mind. Only the present or the moment is real.

Negative thoughts are always in the past or future, remembered or imagined. If I am in the moment there cannot be negative thoughts. A three hour bike ride means three hours of mental refreshment. It would take extreme concentration to achieve that by meditation or some like method.

So my bike is a time machine in that it takes me back to a feeling I experienced 50 years ago and before. And it is a timeless machine in that it keeps me focused in the moment.

All that, and I’m getting the best possible physical exercise at the same time.

 To Share click "Share Article" below 

More about shimmy

Hold a bicycle wheel at arm’s length in front of you, hold the hub spindle with your left and right fingers. Now move your hands in the motion of pedaling a miniature bike. The wheel may be spinning or not for the purpose of this demonstration.

This is the motion of the bicycle or motor cycle’s front wheel during a speed wobble of shimmy. It is not simply a fluttering back and forth in the horizontal plane, about the bike’s steering, but it is fluttering, or wobbling in a two dimensional fashion in both the horizontal and vertical planes, violently shaking the whole bike and the rider.

I used to think this was a design flaw, but now I am inclined to think it is a natural occurrence that happens because it can. On a two wheel vehicle the front wheel is able to move in both planes, whereas on a four wheel vehicle the front wheel can only move left and right about its steering axis.

However, when the steering bearings wear out on an older car, the wheel can then move in both planes, and wheel flutter will occur. This will happen at a definite speed. (It might be 60mph.) Drive beyond that speed and the fluttering stops, only to return again as the car slows, and the speed reaches that certain critical level, then will subside again at a lower speed.  

Most bicycles seem to shimmy coasting downhill at around 45mph. A loose pannier, or saddle bag will often cause a bike to shimmy at a lower speed. Therein lays a clue. It seems if there is something flapping around loose, it amplifies the shaking. The tighter the rider grips the handlebars, he then becomes this fluid extension of the bike.

This is especially true of motorcycles where riders have been tossed around like a rag doll. Some have even broken arms. Expert motorcycle riders have demonstrated that one can ride “No Hands,” induce a shimmy by tapping the end of the handlebars, then stop it by simply leaning forward.

Tall riders riding bicycles with large frames seem more prone to shimmy. Why? The seat tube slopes backwards usually at an angle of 73 degrees. The taller the frame the more the rider’s weight is directly over the center of the rear wheel. This provides a near vertical pivot between the rider’s weight on the saddle, and the rear wheel contacting the road. The front end of the bike can now shake about this pivot. (See above.)

If the rider is sitting fairly upright, the pressure of wind on his chest is forcing even more weight onto the rear of the bike. If the rider were to lift his weight from the saddle, that weight is now on the pedals. Lower and further forward. Get down into a low tuck position, and the weight is now towards the front of the bike. Pressing a knee or leg against the top tube will often stop a shimmy. This dampens the shaking without being actually attached to the frame thereby increasing the problem.

Go to this YouTube video for a montage of motorcycle shimmy’s where the riders quickly get out of it. In most cases it does not even seem to faze them. It is the same with bicycles, the bikes that are shimmying are the same ones that the pros use in the Grand Tours. The pros do not seem to have a problem descending mountains, reaching speeds as high as 55 -60 mph.

Finally the Fuso frames I built did not shimmy. (As a general rule, there have been rare occasions.) So what did I do different? The frames all had the stiffer Columbus SP chainstays. This gave the frames more lateral stiffness.

If a bike and its frame are anchored at the rear by the rider’s weight, and the front wheel starts to wobble, (As it seems it will at a certain critical speed.) it will only do so if it can. In order for the whole bike to shake, either the frame or the wheels are flexing. Add lateral stiffness to the frame and/or wheels and the front wheel can’t shake.

Move the rider’s weight forward and you are effectively holding the front wheel so it cannot wobble. It is okay that the wheel can move left and right about its steering axis, in order to wobble the wheel has to move in both the vertical and horizontal planes.

I was prompted to write about this subject again because I read this article. Written by a mathematician, it was a little beyond my understanding, so this is an attempt to look at the problem in simple terms. When I built frames I never had this issue, so I never addressed it. It is only in recent years I have started to study this and my views are still evolving.

I’m sure if the motorcycle manufacturers had all the answers they would fix the problem shown in the video link, but it is a complex matter. Feel free to add your views and ideas.

 To Share click "Share Article" below

Why do cyclists shave their legs? The only explanation you will ever need

It’s hotter’n hell, 90 degrees (32 C.) and we are going out for the evening. My wife is wearing long pants.

“Aren’t you going to be hot?” I ask. “Why don’t you wear a dress or shorts?”

“I can’t, I haven’t shaved my legs.”

End of questioning, no further explanation needed.

My lovely wife doesn’t want to be the only one in a roomful of ladies with silky smooth legs, while she is sporting stubble. Even though I would have to get down on my knees with a magnifying glass to find a tiny emerging follicle.

This is exactly the same reason why cyclists shave their legs, No one wants to go out on a group ride and be the only wooly mammoth in the pack.

Even if I am riding alone, I still shave my legs; I never know who I might meet on the road. Shaved legs simply look better on a cyclist. Some call it vanity, frankly I find that an affront to my pride.

I started racing in 1952 and that’s when I started shaving my legs. The European professional riders shaved their legs because they were riding the big stage races like the Tour de France and the Giro d’Italia.

Stages were long back then, sometimes in excess of 180 miles. (289.6 km.) They needed some serious massage therapy at the end of each day in order to have the leg muscles supple and relaxed ready to go again the next morning. It is neither comfortable for the cyclist or the masseuse to be massaging hairy legs.

The long, smooth legs in the picture at the top belonged to “Il Campionissimo” Fausto Coppi. I was no different from any other cyclist of the 1950s; we all wanted to emulate the great professional riders of that era. So we shaved our legs.

Shaved legs are faster; it is psychological. Like polishing the engine on a hot rod car; you can’t see inside the engine but you polish the outside. The cyclist is the “engine” of his bike; you can’t see the heart or the lungs inside, but by making the legs smooth and clean so you see every vein, sinew, and muscle, it is a definite psychological boost.

Professional cyclists today shave their legs for the same reason as their predecessors, and road cyclists of all levels, from amateur racers to weekend warriors follow suit. End of story, there should be no further explanation needed.

Fellow cyclists understand, but non-cyclists question this practice. We come up with all kinds of creative reasons for shaving our legs. We pretend that it is in case we fall and get road rash.

Sure with hair free legs it is easier to clean and dress wounds, but that is not why we shave our legs. A lady known only to me as “Jan” commented on a recent post. “If you fall and get road rash on your legs, wouldn’t you also scrape up your arms?” Good point, cyclists rarely shave their arms. (That would be weird.)

If someone asks me, “Why do you shave your legs?” I answer simply, “It’s traditional.” That is the only answer I need. No one questions it or doubts my word. After all, if something is traditional, who am I to break with tradition?

Professional racing cyclists have been shaving their legs for at least 100 years, that’s probably longer than ladies have been shaving their legs. So the practice definitely qualifies as a tradition.

Think of it like the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain; when someone asks, “Why would you run down the street in front of a herd of stampeding bulls?”

“It’s traditional.”

“Oh well, that explains it. No further explanation needed.”

Or, “Why are you taking that dead pine tree into your house at Christmas.”

“It’s traditional.”

You see how it works; it doesn’t matter how bizarre or irrational the act, just say, “It’s traditional,” and it is immediately accepted.

It is so easy. No more excuses, no more lies about road rash or guilt feelings over vanity. The answer is, “It’s traditional.”

No further explanation is needed.