The Angry Singlespeeder: I am so over the road
Yesterday I went for my first proper road ride since May. By proper I mean that I took off my 35c knobby wheels and put 25c road wheels on my Ibis Hakkalügi Disc. I also took off the SPDs, put on proper Ultegra road pedals and wore proper Lake road shoes. I rode for about two hours on an absolutely fabulous day in northern Nevada. Everything about the ride was perfect. 75 degrees and sunny, a light breeze, very little traffic and a freshly tuned up bike that worked perfectly. But you know what? It was boring.
I guess there’s a good reason why I haven’t been on a road ride since May; there’s simply far more off-pavement terrain outside my back door just waiting to be rediscovered. Besides, even one car passing me on the road grates on my nerves. I’ve been so accustomed to riding in absolute silence that as soon as a 4,000 pound piece of belching steel roars by me, the inner peace and tranquility comes to an abrupt halt. I must ride defensively. I must be paying close attention. My mind can’t wander. Random thoughts are not allowed, for as soon as I start to daydream, I fail to see that oncoming schmucktard drifting across the yellow line because she’s too busy texting.
These past few weeks I’ve been going on trail rides and runs that have taken me far out. Way far out. I’ve squirmed my way through barbed wire fences, gotten shredded up by gnarled bushes and sagebrush, seen stone foundations that used to support giant lumber flumes and discovered footpaths and trails that look like they haven’t been hiked or ridden in generations. I’ve found old logging routes, rusty steel roofing panels, rotted wooden beams, diggings from prospectors, old tin cans and a wealth of other artifacts indicating that someone, at some time in the past, lived in an area that nobody has accessed in years.
Aside from all the untraveled prospector trails, there are a wealth of more frequently traveled dirt roads and ATV trails that crisscross over thousands of acres of National Forest. The Dog Valley area between Verdi and Truckee is simply loaded with hundreds of miles of dirt roads with nobody on them. These roads date back to the very first emigrants to pass the Sierra Nevada, including the infamous Donner party.
Getting up and over Henness Pass Road into Dog Valley opens up a wealth of terrain perfect for that trendy new form of riding called ‘gravel grinding’, except there isn’t much gravel out in Dog Valley. It’s more extreme than that. It’s either smooth and fast dirt road or pinch flat city, with miles of sharp, embedded rocks just waiting to eat those puny 35c tires alive.
So long as I back off the throttle on the rock-strewn downhills, I can literally ride unencumbered all day in one direction, all on dirt roads, without seeing more than a couple cars. And of course because those cars are on rocky, winding mountain roads, they’re driving slow and paying attention.
So why in the hell would I want to risk getting run over by a sea of steel behemoths when I can log nearly as many miles in the same amount of time on dirt roads in pristine forest where there are more deer and bear than there are people? The roads are smooth enough in most spots that I can still average close to 20 mph and there isn’t a single traffic light, stop sign or numbnuts driving 10 mph in the bike lane.
Two years ago I consolidated my bike stable, selling my Trek Madone and Santa Cruz Stigmata cross bike in exchange for the Hakka Disc. I bought two wheelsets and have been extremely happy with the result. Since USA Cycling is for dweebs and I don’t race road anymore, the Hakka is all the road bike I need. The versatility of a disc brake ‘cross bike is remarkable, and since all road bikes are headed in the disc direction, if you don’t race regularly, why have two different bikes? Buy a disc brake ‘cross bike with the added tire clearance and be done. One less bike to maintain means more time in the saddle.
After a rather comprehensive summer of racing mountain bikes, the competitive itch has been scratched. Cyclocross season is now in full swing, and people are asking when I’ll be coming out to race. Like riding on the road, for whatever reason, lining up elbow to elbow and racing around in circles against other Lycra clad fitness monsters just sounds unappetizing. The wide-open terrain behind my house is calling out, just waiting to be discovered.
Daylight is getting shorter, shadows are getting longer, aspens are changing color, there’s a refreshing bite of cold in the air and animals are everywhere diligently hunting and gathering in preparation for winter. It’s all out there happening as I type. What’s more, it costs me nothing but sweat and some caloric investment to get there, and there’s absolutely zero fee to be immersed in it.
The only reason why I put my road wheels and pedals back on the Hakka was for this past weekend’s Grand Fondue aka La Fawnda aka Gran Fondo in Santa Rosa. Many cyclists claim that the route on Levi’s Gran Fondo features some of the most breathtaking terrain in the world, including the much-adored King Ridge Road.
Although it may be beautiful and there may be little to no cars on the route, there will be more than 7,000 roadies taking part, which to me is far worse than dealing with cars. But I won’t let my inner negativity about the road pass judgment on the event before I participate in it. I’ll save judgment until after the ride. Perhaps pedaling along the California coast will renew my interest in riding road.
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t entirely hate the road. It does serve a useful purpose, like when I rode from Reno to Sea Otter and San Diego to Sea Otter. But unless I’m going point-to-point, constantly seeing new things with an end destination in mind, for me, the road has simply gotten too dangerous and too boring. Dangerous and boring – not a good combination in my book. I’ll stick to the dirt, thank you.
Editor’s Note: The Angry Singlespeeder is a collection of mercurial musings from contributing editor Kurt Gensheimer. In no way do his maniacal diatribes about all things bike oriented represent the opinions of Mtbr, RoadBikeReview, or any of their employees, contractors, janitorial staff, family members, household pets, or any other creature, living or dead. You can submit questions or comments to Kurt at singlespeeder@consumerreview.com. And make sure to check out Kurt’s previous columns.
The post The Angry Singlespeeder: I am so over the road appeared first on Mountain Bike Review.