Rising to the occasion

There are downsides to big, organized bike rides. En masse, us cyclists have an unfortunate tendency to lose our common sense as the occasion gets the better of us. We swerve unpredictably, take risks we’d never normally take, plough into potholes and fail to warn those behind us about hazards. Our impact on the people and places we cycle past can be upsetting, disruptive or even dangerous, reinforcing the views of the anti-bike brigade that we’re nothing but a bunch of testosterone-fuelled Lycra louts. It’s no surprise that many experienced cyclists eschew mass participation events in favour of lower-key, lower impact rides. But to turn your back on all big rides is to deny yourself some rare treats, as we were reminded last weekend on the third Prudential RideLondon 100-miler. Being one of 27,000 cyclists tapping along on central London roads that are usually choked with traffic is a truly uplifting experience. Add cheering crowds, impeccable route marking, logistics management and marshaling and you have an experience that every cyclist should try at least once. Turning into the home straight on The Mall, where thousands lined the route, banging the hoardings and screaming us to the finish line 300 metres away, we allowed ourselves to imagine how it might feel to be involved in the sprint finish of a Grand Tour, as the adrenaline peaks and those weary leg muscles twitch into action for one last superhuman push to the line. Easing out of the saddle for a final big-ring blast, just inches away from all those clapping hands and waving flags, we set our jaw with steely determination and gave it full gas for the first 100 metres…before realizing that both legs were about to cramp and that 300 metres is a lot further than you might think when your muscles are awash with lactic acid. Never mind. It’s good to dream.

Filling the void

The Tour is over! We are bereft! No more afternoon TV watching while we pretend to work. No more desperately avoiding social media until the evening highlights when we’ve missed the day’s action. No more bike rides planned around cake stops at cafés screening the race. What on earth are we supposed to do now? Well, there’s always the Vuelta at the end of August. No, we know it’s not quite the same but it still attracts all the big boys. As we write, Chris Froome is weighing up whether to try and emulate Jacques Anquetil and Bernard Hinault by going for a Tour/Vuelta double. Some of Froome’s competitors may feel they have something to prove after their Tour disappointments too. And just think, once the Vuelta’s finished on 13 September, there will only be 10 months until the next Tour begins! There’s always riding bikes too, of course. We doubt we’re alone in cutting short or postponing rides because the Tour was just too enticing. It’s a curious fact of cycling life that bike fitness often dips at this time of year, just when you think you ought to be peaking after all that off-season hard work. There are various reasons for this – the big summer expedition might now be behind you, the family holiday might have kept you off the bike – but another one might just be because you’ve been neglecting your cycling and choosing instead to sit in front of the telly to watch other riders turn themselves inside out for a few weeks. And then there’s everything else, of course. The garden’s looking a bit neglected. The family probably needs reminding who you are and why you're skulking around the house looking so miserable. And you now have time to pursue all those non-cycling interests you have. You do have some of them, right?

The Tour from the inside

TV sports coverage is truly spectacular these days but for any great sporting event, nothing beats witnessing the drama at first hand. Okay, maybe it's not so good if you're below two metres in height but by being part of the crowd you're part of the Tour itself! We last witnessed a Tour stage on foreign soil back in 2012, when we were privileged enough to see history in the making as (Sir) Bradley Wiggins lapped the Champs-Élysées clad in yellow. Fast forward to 2015 and Utrecht, the Dutch city hosting the Grand Depart. We find ourselves rubbing shoulders with the world's cycling press in an exhibition arena-sized media centre. We're still as starstruck by the Tour as we were before launching the magazine. The sheer size and scale of the event still blows us away. Some might dismiss it as a cash cow - a cynical money-making opportunity - but for us it's still the greatest spectacle road cycling has to offer. When we were offered the chance to witness the opening stages of this year's event as part of the press community, there was a split second of hesitation caused by a fear that we might lose our Tour innocence and become drawn into the cynical world of cycling journalism we so hate and resist. But on the plus side we were being presented with every fan's dream of behind-the-scenes access to exclusive areas where the team buses are situated, mechanics fettle bikes and riders warm up. On this basis we were prepared to take our chances! We can't say too much more about how our day(s) unfolded - you'll have to wait for issue 8 to find out more - but let's just say we're still smiling about the experience days after returning. It's great watching the Tour on TV but it's so much more special to go in person to become part of the show. Remember, you still have two and a half weeks. Go on, get involved!

Good ride?

Dammit, it’s colder than I expected and that breeze is a bit fresher. I’ve got all the wrong kit on. I’ll be even later if I go back and change now – might as well press on. Jesus! Was that car close enough? And why on earth is the driver shaking his fist at me? Idiot! How can I be breathless this early in the ride? That was barely an incline! So much for all the off-season turbo work. Perhaps I should have laid off the wine last night. Where’s that irritating click coming from? Is it the left pedal – or perhaps the crank? It sounds like it but who knows? I could have sworn my last mystery noise was coming from the bottom bracket and it turned out to be the rear wheel skewer. Both hands are seizing up now because of the cold and my wrists are getting stiff – especially the one I broke last year when I came off. There’s that dead spot on the ball of my right foot too. My toes will be dead too before long. Ouch! I didn’t see that pothole at all. That felt like a potentially expensive crunch. Lucky not to come off really… Oh great, there’s that muscular pain in the side of my chest again. I wish I knew what that was about. It feels like a strain in the intercostal muscles – but I’ve been getting it for months now. It’s actually a bit worrying. If it wasn’t for all the traffic – easy mate! That was a bit close for comfort! – and the dappled sunlight on the road, this would be a really nice descent. As it is I’ve no idea where the potholes are and I can’t really swerve to avoid them anyway, without veering into the path of all these cars. Ah well, better just hold on tight and hope for the best. I hope things are ok at home. I know coming out today was not a popular move after the number of rides I’ve had this week but how else am I supposed to stick to my plan? Still, I’m feeling a bit guilty about not doing my share of the parenting. Maybe I should pick up a peace offering on the way home… God this hill shouldn’t feel this hard. If I’m struggling here just imagine how hard it’s going to feel in the Alps in a couple of months. I’m going to get dropped on the big climbs, I know I am. Now my neck’s gone stiff – I’ve only been out for a couple of hours! And my arse is sore again – I wish I could find the right saddle, I really do. But I can’t afford another change so soon. Especially not after splashing out on those wheels last month. I still can’t quite believe I spent that much on a pair of wheels. God if she ever found out how much this hobby costs… Hold on a minute! How is it possible that the wind is still in my face? I’ve come almost full circle – I swear the wind has been following me round. Oh no, now the shifting’s slightly out again. Why is it that the more you spend on a groupset the more fine-tuning it needs to run smoothly? Surely that’s not right! Does my head in… Woah! That was close. Because my hands are now so numb with the cold I’ve lost all my fine motor skills so I’m just grabbing at the brakes with all the subtlety of a drunken gorilla. Not a good idea when going a bit too fast into a tight corner with a little pile of gravel at just the wrong place. Still, there’s nothing like a nice shot of adrenaline to wake the system up I suppose. Home again. Average speed lower than hoped; out for longer than I promised. Here we go… “Hello love! I’m back! Yes, lovely ride thanks…”

'La liaison dangereuse'

What has the same potential, the same impact on your personal, family and private life? It's a form of escapism, a hidden pleasure that becomes a desire. Like a craving or addiction, you find yourself needing to ride more and more: Strava becomes your pimp. The intensity of the relationship becomes all-consuming. After work, before work, whatever the weather, you'll always manage to get a ride in. At times it becomes too noticeable, too blatant and you have to rein it in a bit but you know your obsession will be back in full flow soon enough. You prepare meticulously for your liaison with the bike. You dress to impress and coordinate every facet of your appearance. If something clashes, well it's done intentionally. You must look your best on the bike. It's a unique situation really, a polyamorous arrangement - you and your partner know what's going on but somehow it's become the norm. Should it be this way though, especially when you lavish countless new gifts on your bike and only the occasional meal or box of chocolates on your nearest and dearest? You and your bike; it's a tactile coupling. You grip and squeeze her, guiding her delicately through corners and down rapid descents. Your life is in her hands. If you haven't looked after her properly now is the time you'll find out about it. Even the neighbours have begun to talk, 'he/she is beginning to spend more time out with that bike than with you and the family'. You know it's wrong but your efforts to rectify the situation are feeble. After all, who can escape what they truly desire?