CONTINUED FROM Road Noob: Part 1
When I resolved to buy a road bike, you wanna talk about a smorgasbord of simultaneous emotions. I was fucking bummed because I thought I was “resigning” or “downgrading” to a road bike (because, you know, mountain bikes are fuckin’ ‘ard). I was thrilled because, holy shit, a shiny new bike!! And I was dreading the inevitable “WTF, another bike?!” from the missus. Ugh.
In the end, I bit the bullet and nailed a titanium road bike. Oooh, titanium… so ‘90s. Every fucker out there’s on a carbon fiber bike these days. Titanium is so, so passé. They’re the harem pants of road bikes. But because I’d come from a mountain biking background, where everything is about durability – because let’s face it, you’re gonna fuck shit up when you’re trying to ride a bike across rocks and streams and logs and badgers – the idea that my fat and clumsy ass might inevitably shatter a carbon fiber frame scared the living shit out of me (reality check: carbon’ll hold up just fine). Theory being that I can get titanium re-welded if I fuck it up. If I fuck up a carbon fiber frame, all I’m getting an ass full of carbon fiber shrapnel. Fuck that.
Nevermind that it’s impossible to choose from all the carbon fiber bikes out there. There are thirty gajillion models to choose from, how the fuck do you make sense of it all. Narrowing it down from only a handful of titanium options made the whole process more manageable. [Let’s, for the time being, ignore the fact that there’s really nothing wrong with a carbon bike, I just wanted a titanium frame to be different. OK? OK.]
So I got the bike. Off I go, right? Fuck no.
There’s a lot of shit to work out when you make a wholesale change to what bike you’re riding. Going from mountain bikes to road bikes is not like going from white toast to whole wheat. It’s more like going from a rack of ribs to a salad.
As a result, I’ve had to relearn a shit ton of new things about cycling. Things like:
Helmets. Mountain bike helmets typically have a bill (visor). I have no idea why but they do. All the riding I’ve ever done has been under a canopy of woods, so I have no idea what that bill’s shielding me from. And I’ve been using the same mountain bike helmet model for over a half-dozen years. It’s the only helmet I use when riding my Frankenstein bike on the road. Mainly because I’m already riding a completely unconventional fucked up monstrosity. A mismatched mountain bike helmet? Perfect! But roadies don’t wear billed helmets. Oh no. Roadie helmets have a billon vents and are made of carbon fiber (again!) and cost a trillion dollars. Oh no, what to do! Fuck it, I bought a road helmet. I’m such a goddamn sucker.
Handlebars. My Frankenstein bike has these cool flared dropbars (above). They look a bit weird, but they’re massively comfortable. This new road bike has conventional dropbars. Ugh, another goddamn thing I’ve gotta (re)learn.
Saddle. All my mountain bikes have exactly the same saddle. That’s what my ass likes, so that’s what my ass gets. All these road bikes seem to come with these thin wafer saddles. Different saddles for different rides, I get it. I guess they have little need for all that taint-saving structure on mountain bike saddles. But which one to use? This one’s thin, but is it thin enough? That one’s narrow, but is it narrow enough? WTF.
Tires. So, so many tire choices. With mountain bikes, I got quite good at understanding the tires. There’s visual common sense that plays a big part. Different tires have different tread patterns. You can make a pretty well educated guess on how different tires will work on different terrains. Makes tire selection not an entirely complicated affair. Road bike tires? There are four trillion models out there and they’re all slick. How the fuck do you tell what’s a good tire and what’s a shit tire? Getting up to speed on road tires has been a fucking tedious affair. Also, I used to be able to score brilliant mountain bike tires for about $30 pop. Why the fuck do road tires cost $80 a pop? I blame the overall roadie populace for willingly overpaying for all sorts of shit.
Pedals. Fuck road pedals. Road pedals are big and clunky and they all use these massive cleats bolted to the sole of your cycling shoes. And of course, these cleats aren’t compatible with mountain bike shoes. Of course.
Shoes. Fuck road shoes. These things look like ass, with all the ratchets and straps. And they all have these slick soles that’ll guarantee you’ll slip and bust your ass when you’re off the bike. Speaking of off the bike, those massive cleats on slick road shoes make you walk like a duck that’s just shit his pants. I’m sticking with my mountain shoes and mountain pedals.
Shorts. Roadies and their fucking bologna-skin outfits. Mountain riders wear baggy shorts. I’ve never worn anything but baggy shorts when I ride. My ass is too fat to wear skintight lycra shorts without some modesty shorts to hide behind. Fuck you, I’m riding with baggy shorts.
So much shit to think about. So many rules… Ahhh yes, “The Rules”…
“The Rules” are a crowdsourced “sacred doctrine” devised by the brilliant cycling iconoclastic site, Velominati. Velominati’s “The Rules” are fucking ace. They’re hilarious. But they’re also the quintessential road cycling commandments. I love rules for things. But while I love how fucking hardcore some of the rules are, there’s just no fucking way I’m adhering to all of them.
Because whether roadies want to admit or not, there’s a roadie mold, and it chaps my taint and I’m not doing it. I’m not riding with a fucking heart rate monitor. I’m not measuring my cadence. I never want to know what a VO2 max reading means. I sure as fuck am not shaving my legs. I’m never wearing a bib. I’m riding with sleeveless jerseys when it’s 100-degrees out. I’m gonna keep wearing baggy shorts. And I’ll keep riding with booze onboard.
I’m just gonna go out there and ride this stupid bike.
This Annoys Me 