A
recreational, non-competitive road-bicyclist,
I travel mostly suburban streets and
secondary country roads over rolling terrain,
usually on trips of about 15 - 60
miles. Depending on terrain, traffic,
and weather, I usually cruise at 15 - 18
miles per hour and average about 13 - 16
mph. I typically roll up 2,000 - 3,000
miles per year, on both solo and club rides.
In my early college days
during the 1960s, I got around on a Raleigh Sport
3-speed. It was utilitarian, but
low-maintenance, and ideal for getting about
campus and for short rolls on weekends.
Sometime during my subsequent stint in the
army, the Raleigh disappeared, so I bought
another of the same model in 1973. It
got used for occasional rides of up to 20
miles or so. However, I am the lazy
sort, and the hefty Raleigh was never a joy
to crank uphill, especially as I was
approaching middle-age. So I never
envisioned myself as becoming a passionate
cyclist.
Then one evening in the
spring of 1988, a neighbor suggested that I
take his lightweight 18-speed for a trial
spin around the block. I had never
pictured myself on one of those multi-geared
contraptions with the super-skinny tires,
narrow seat, and curvy handlebars—they
looked so damned uncomfortable. But the
following weekend, I was down at the local
cyclery, picking out a new Schwinn World
12-speed!
It was immediately clear,
however, that the Schwinn and I were not
going to become friends without a few
alterations. First of all, that horrid
original-equipment seat had to go! It
was replaced with a much more butt-friendly
gel saddle, which alone more than tripled my
comfortable riding range. After a year
or so of riding bike paths, I decided to
replace the lowest two gears with a couple of
bulldog climbing cogs, and that gave me the
confidence to get off the trails and tackle
some serious hills. As I rode, I even
found that those "swoopy" drop
handlebars—a real advantage in
maintaining speed against the
wind—weren't at all uncomfortable once I
got used to them. The Schwinn and I
formed a fond, if somewhat leisurely,
partnership that would last the next ten
years. As I saw it back then, I didn't
need a lot of speed. As long as I was
riding solo, all I had to do was maintain a
pace that was comfortable. When I later
joined the Dayton Cycling Club, however, that changed.
On club rides, it quickly
became clear that I was carrying too much
weight. Even though the evening and
weekend rides were not "races," the
group pace was considerably faster than that
to which I was accustomed, and I simply
couldn't keep up for more than a few
miles. Yes, it was obvious that I could
stand to shed a few pounds, but I also needed
a lighter bike with more gears if I was to
stand a chance of staying with the group
beyond the first hill. My steed of
choice became a 1997 Fuji Roubaix, a
moderately speedy and light chro-moly steel
touring bike with triple chain ring and
modified cassette. After several years (and 30,000
miles), I've downgraded this machine to commuter service,
and replaced it with another Fuji Roubaix, this time
an aluminum-framed 2005 model with carbon fork and stays.
By the time I turned 60, I had pretty much given up on
lifting my climbing ability into the mediocre category, but my speed
and endurance have gradually
improved over the years. With draft-sharing, I can
usually hang with a 20-plus mph pace line as long as the terrain
stays horizontal. And
I'm feeling great and having a ball!
So where do I go from
here? Well, I suppose "when I grow
up," I'd like to be like the senior
member* of the cycling club, who, until he
moved out of the area in his mid-nineties,
was still cranking away on a 40-mile ride
every week!
=SAJ=
*Clair Duckham moved out of
the Dayton area when he was in his nineties. He
continued bicycling—with assistance—until he was nearly 103;
he died shortly before his birthday in 2009.