Making the Call

Cycling is a tough activity, don't let anyone tell you different.  It's tough for the professionals who compete on bikes and it's tough for people who ride them to work.  The only difference is the speed and the equipment.  The stakes are the same.

In a split second, everything can change.  We're out there on the road with nothing but what we have on our backs to protect us from the multi-ton metal boxes flying past or the spot of pavement that refuses to let a bike stay upright for no explicable reason.  Even when the situation is primed for cycling, things can still go wrong, terribly wrong.  There's the road, there's our bikes, there are the cars, there are other people, there animals, there's the weather, and there are other cyclists.  There are too many variables, even on a closed course, that will never permit cycling to be as safe and predictable as football.

All of us who tuned in to watch the US Pro Championships were heartbroken when Lucas Euser and Taylor Phinney went down hard while trying to avoid a race motorcycle during a tricky descent in the road race.  Euser was able to walk away from the accident.  Phinney, who won a stage of the Tour of California thanks to his descending skills and the US Pro Time Trial last Saturday, didn't get up.  He suffered a severe compound fracture to his left fibula and tibia.  That is a horrible injury, more than likely a season ending injury.  Thankfully, he's young so it is likely that he will come back from this, but it'll be a long road.  All it took was a second for disaster to strike.  It can strike someone who knows better than most how to handle a bike.  It can definitely strike the rest of us.  No matter how many hours we spend in the saddle and no matter how much practice we get, there's always the chance that something could happen.

But, we don't think about it too much.  We can't.  If we played out all the possible tragedies that could happen while riding, we wouldn't ride.  We'd go to a gym and ride a stationary instead.  We'd get in our cars and drive to work instead of loading our stuff in panniers and pedaling to the office. We wouldn't be cyclists.  But, we have to be smart about riding.  We need to push our limits, but we also need to know when to make the call.  Sometimes, it's wiser to sit a ride out than push on.  We need to know our bodies, what level we can take them to before we end up doing damage.  We need to know when the road situation isn't safe to ride.  There is a limit.  We have to make the call when it comes to our safety. The line is different for everyone, and no one else can make the decision for us.  It's a part of cycling.  Sometimes those lines change, like the more we descend the more comfortable we get with it.  Others stay firmly in place.  But, we know when we're pushing the envelope and when we can handle it.  No  Rapha ad, no editorial, no Twitter comment should determine how we approach our personal safety.  Lately, pro riders have been taking some flak for protesting the conditions in races.  It's easy to say, "You're a professional, suck it up."  But, we're not on the roads with them.  We really don't have the right to make the call.  No one has the right to make the call for the rest of us either.  We ride the roads, we know our bodies, we know our bikes.  We make the call.

Over the last month, my husband was out of town on business, a lot.  So, I dialed it back on the bike.  I popped it into the trainer and missed quite a bit of nice weather.  Being completely and utterly alone here adds a variable into the equation I don't really want to mess around with if something were to go wrong.  I played the conservative hand to mitigate some risks.  While I'm sorry I missed some potential good days out there on the bike, I'm not sorry I made the call.  It would be better to miss a sunny bike ride than end up in a nasty situation while the only person that would notice I was missing was six hours away.  I know that close calls are common on a clear, beautiful day when my husband is riding with me.  Heck, I barely missed creaming a woman who stepped out in the street, backwards, from behind a 5 foot tall hedge last weekend.  It was miracle we didn't connect!  If we had, it would have been nasty.  If I was alone it would have been worse.  If I was completely solo in Germany at the time that situation would haven been an even uglier business.  So, that's why I draw the line there.  I keep rides stationary or in short circuits if I'm solo in Deutschland.  Some may not agree with that decision, but sorry, it's not your call.

Cycling is tough.  We have a lot to take into account when we ride.  There's quite a bit we can control.  We can care for our bodies so they don't fail us out there.  We can keep our bikes in top shape to avoid debilitating mechanicals.  We can ride defensively and carefully.  But, there's a lot out there that's totally out of our hands.  We know that.  It's up to us to deal with it the best we can.  Only we know how.

The Secret

I'm going to let you in on something.  You know all those pictures in the magazines, the blog posts, and Instagram of people cycling in Europe on these wide open roads in these grand vistas? You know those inspiring write-ups about solitude on the European roads?  Those quiet little villages with nothing but sheep and the perfect little cafe?  Ok, those places exist.  They do, I promise.  BUT, that's not Europe anymore than DisneyWorld or the Grand Canyon is representative of America.  The reality is Europe has cities and cars and lots of people too.  It's not a postcard, it's a living place.

A good portion of my cycling is through villages very similar to the one shown here.  It can be a pretty intense experience.  The streets through these towns are narrow to begin with, and then they are made narrower by parked cars.  Pretty much every corner is a blind one.  Buildings are right on top of the road  and there's just a wee strip of sidewalk.  There are intersections that are a free for all, meaning there is no indication of who has right of way.  There's this road furniture designed to slow down traffic.  Really, it just serves to make things more difficult.  And, guys, cobbles are really, really common.  Every single town center is paved in cobbles, some new and smooth, others at least 100 years old and just as gnarly as the one's you see in the Classics.  Hate to burst bubbles here, but there is nothing pleasant about riding over cobbles.  Then, there are people.  People live in the villages, towns, and cities of Europe, believe it or not.  Even the smallest village has people walking around during the day.  Some of these people step out into the street without looking, walk out from between cars, blindly open car doors, let their dogs and children run willy nilly into the streets.  The cars, of course, can be an issue too.   There are four rush hours- morning, before lunch, after lunch, and the evening.  In some regions there is only one road connecting all the communities so traffic can get pretty backed up even in the little one horse towns.  Speed limits are higher.  ATVs are street legal.  Tractors are street legal.  Vehicles I can't even identify are street legal.  It can get pretty wild on these roads.  All these everyday things can combine to create situations that would make your average American cycling advocate soil themselves.

Of course, yes, cycle paths and on road infrastructure are more common.  But, cycle paths aren't designed for sporting cyclists.  They can be used for training, but they can get just as congested with commuters and folks out for a leisure ride as the roads are with cars after lunch.  On-road lanes are common in large cities, but in smaller cities and towns they are as rare as they are in America.  Some of them are routed in inexplicable ways which confound those who have never followed them before.  Oh, and people park their cars in the lanes over here too.  The systems of Belgium, The Netherlands, and Denmark are not the norm.

So, if people want to ride the epic roads seen in the calendars, blogs, and magazines they have to throw the bike on the car and drive to them just like you do when you want to ride epic roads in America.  For the most part, European cyclists have the same challenges American cyclists do.  It's not the Promised Land (ok, Belgium is the Promised Land).  Before you start freaking out and labeling me as negative, don't panic.  Bare with me here.  Riding a bike in the majority of Europe is better than it is in a good portion of the States, but not for the reasons you may think.

The secret to happy cycling is not in lanes, lights, sharrows, paths, or boxes.  The secret to happy cycling is attitude.  Jerks and morons are everywhere, and that's not going to change anytime soon.  But, there is a prevailing attitude from cyclists, drivers, and pedestrians that bicycles belong on European roads.  For the most part, drivers aren't surprised or miffed when a bicycle appears in their path.  Well, if they are they keep it to themselves.  Pedestrians are still oblivious, but they don't go ballistic when you gently bring them back to reality with the ding of a bell.  Other cyclists still do stupid things, but those guys are in the minority and generally live in cities.  Close calls still happen, but they aren't rooted in hatred and ignorance.  They happen because the situation was just sketchy.  They happen because city planners come up with some wacky designs.  They happen because people get distracted and don't pay attention.

So, you know what, America?  You have the potential to become the greatest place in the world to ride a bike.  No, you don't have roads with the heritage, you don't have the storied legacy and rich cycling culture.  But, you have wide roads and open ones.  You don't have to go through busy city centers unless you want to.  You have intersections that make sense and standardized traffic laws.  The odds of getting plowed over by a thresher are slim to none.  You have endless cycling possibilities.  All you need to do is to change your attitudes.  Drivers, stop thinking the roads are your's to own.  Stop believing you're the dominate form of life.  Cyclists, stop believing that drivers supersede you on the totem pole.  Ride like you belong there, deliberately and legally.  Pedestrians, while I realize you're few and far between, just try to remember that there are other people in the world and they really don't want to run into you.  Law makers and enforcers, start enforcing traffic laws and seriously prosecuting violators.  If drivers aren't held accountable when they endanger the lives of others, their attitudes won't change.  While you're at it, go after cyclists when they are on sidewalks or riding the wrong way.  If our attitudes change to being more mindful of others and accepting of all transportation methods as equals, we can revolutionize American cycling.

It really could be that easy.  If people can ride their bikes in Europe in far more intimidating and challenging situations and not hate every kilometer or get creamed as soon they clip in, then American cyclists definitely can too.  There really is no excuse.