I am cranking down the spine of a 2,000-foot
mountain on a pair of rubber wheels no thicker than
two fingers. I’m decked out in enough road-biking
garb — aerodynamic helmet, sleek sunglasses, black
tights — to make me appear as if I know what I’m doing.
I don’t. My legs are burning. My breathing is erratic.
I’m overheated. “Get closer!” yells my road-biking
partner, as I glide just a few feet from his rear
tire.
Photography
By Christopher Collier
To truly reap the benefits of “drafting,” a road-biking formation where
the rider in front breaks the wind and those tucked in behind need only work
about 70 percent as hard as the lead rider, I must be less than a foot behind
him. Given our speed — I’m guessing about 20 miles per hour — I’m a little
leery. Four feet. Three feet. Two feet. That’s as close as I get. Just enough to
feel a difference. The wind dissipates. My breathing slows.
I get a temporary break as we reach the top of a hill on a gradual climb.
As I look down upon another long stretch of country road, it doesn’t take any
special knowledge to figure out what comes next. I switch into the biggest
gear possible, tuck my head down close to my handlebars, and shoot downhill
with my fingers resting on the brakes. We streak past gushing mountain
streams and tall grass aglow in the sidelight of the late-day sun on this otherwise
deserted stretch of pavement.
It’s day two of my immersion into the wildly popular culture of road biking (my inaugural ride took place the day
before when I climbed a short hill at
the pace of a crawling baby). Thus far,
I’ve gathered that: 1) downhill always
beats uphill; 2) road biking is liberating
on an individual level, but moving
with the herd has distinct advantages;
3) the modern road bike is nothing like
the Schwinn ten-speed of my youth;
4) road biking’s biggest allure may be,
simply, speed.
Road biking’s popularity is largely due
to seven-time Tour de France winner
Lance Armstrong. It’s arguable that
Armstong has put countless Americans
on a road bike for the first time. But
something else — some intrinsic quality
of the sport — is keeping them
there. According to the National Bicycle
Dealers Association, sales of road bikes
had risen more than 10 percent when
last polled in 2004, which is twice the
increase cited in 2002. And USA Cycling
reports the number of licensed racers
has doubled since 2002.
For starters, road biking is convenient.
Mountain bikers need a dirt trail. But
there are roads everywhere. “I can leave
from my house and go out for a ride,”
notes road biker James Hurst, an
attorney who has been at it for 15 years.
“I don’t need to drive 45 minutes first.”
Road biking also offers an aerobic
workout you can regulate. “On a mountain
bike, terrain dictates your heart
rate,” say Rod Kramer, a tour director
for the Adventure Cycling Association
who has ridden, coached, and trained
on a road bike for more than 30 years.
“But on a road bike, you’re in control.
Need a rest? Just glide.”
Furthermore, road biking doesn’t
beat you up the way running can. Rather
than pounding on the pavement, the
bike delivers smooth and fluid motions
that have less impact on the body. Plus,
it offers far more variation than the gym. “I couldn’t keep staring at four
concrete walls while on the elliptical
trainer,” says Tab Tollett, a real-estate
appraiser who now rides on a sponsored
team. “I had to get outdoors.”
The love for road biking, however,
goes way beyond the practicality of an
ideal workout. Speed plays big into the
equation. Some bikers will do just
about anything — spend money, train
on exceedingly steep hills, diet, seek
professional coaching — to achieve it.
It doesn’t take much, just a few revolutions,
to go fast, even on a level surface.
This often fuels a desire to go even
faster. “There’s the speed, the smoothness,
the quietness,” says Mike Pollock,
an organizational-behavior specialist
who takes clients on rides with him.
“It’s magical. Once you get on a bike,
you’re hooked. You find that you can
propel yourself faster than you thought
you could go. And you realize that there
are many levels you can get to quickly.”
Those who catch the road-biking
bug often go through a transformation.
Weight gets dropped. Legs gets toned.
Calories get burned at such a rapid rate
that many chew on energy bars while
they ride. Lung capacity increases. “I
did a race in North Carolina when I
was just starting out and came in dead
last,” says Tab Tollett. “Then I dropped
a bunch of weight. A few years later, I
went back and won it.”
Camaraderie is built through mutual
love for the sport, but also through
friendly competition as you push each
other, attempting to reach beyond your
ability level. And it’s forged through
trust. Experienced road bikers travel in
tight pace lines reaching speeds over
30 miles per hour. You move faster as a
collective unit, but riding together becomes
more than that. You get up in
the morning and meet a group of people
that rely on you to be there. Plus,
riding this close means conversations
can ensue with relative ease. “I rode
shoulder to shoulder with the same
group for years,” says Kramer. “I know
everything about them.”
Road biking has made significant inroads in the
business world. It’s often touted as the new golf.
One Silicon Valley rider stated that if you’re not
part of the peloton (a cycling term for
a cluster of riders) you’re not part of the deal.
But road biking is not quite the forum for a business
meeting that involves logistics or point-counterpoint
discussions. It’s more akin to strategic thinking,
to big-picture contemplation, to working out a problem
that takes thought. “It may be that my client will
throw out an idea at the beginning of a ride,” says
Pollock, “and over the course of the next few miles,
we’ll quietly reflect on it before talking more.”
Meeting up with a road-cycling club
in another city is easy. There are rides
for every level. Travelers can rent road
bikes at clubs in major cities and hook
up with rides that not only head out on
the weekend, but on weekdays at the
crack of dawn or at the end of the
workday. The Phoenix-based Arizona
Bicycle Club, for instance, sponsors
more than 400 rides a year. Rides led
by the Bicycle Club of Philadelphia are
classified into four separate groups based on skill level. The Tarheel Cyclists,
out of Charlotte, have standing
rides every day but Monday and Friday.
“You have to prove that you can hang,
and you won’t get dropped,” warns
Kramer, “but for the most part, clubs
are pretty welcoming.”
Aside from speed, there is another risk
associated with taking up road biking:
You could become a gear head. Heated
arguments may ensue regarding the
relative merits of titanium versus carbon
fiber or whether or not integrated
shift and brake levers are all they’re
cracked up to be. There may be talk of
nanotechnology being used by BMC,
a manufacturer somewhat new to
the U.S. You’ll also quickly learn that
unless you’re going to be a professional
rider who gets his or her gear from a
sponsor, you’d best keep your day job.
Buying a modern road bike made
from some of the lightest materials
available — titanium or carbon fiber —
requires dropping a minimum of
$1,000. And that’s just the beginning.
It’s not uncommon to see a biker tooling
around on a $5,000 bike. To achieve
maximum speeds, bikers are constantly
making micro-adjustments. Weight is
shaved by the gram. The first change is
often the wheels. Then the handle bars.
Then the seat. Rather than carrying an
air pump, some tote a tiny capsule of
compressed air in case of a flat.
At a bike shop, you can rent (or buy)
a road bike that’s your approximate size.
Lower the seat, adjust the handle bars,
and go. But some take it much further.
Bikes are tweaked to the subtle nuances
of the body. Adjustments are made
based on the fact that one arm or leg
may be millimeters longer than the other.
There are bike tailors who create an
entire bike from the ground up based
on the rider’s measurements (fittings
can take upwards of five hours). There
are bike coaches, sometimes hired by
amateur riders, to help set a workout
regiment or improve your riding form.
And there are diagnostic trials that help
riders improve performance. Andy
Pruitt, who once worked with Lance
Armstrong, sets up three video screens
and puts strain gauges on pedals to
monitor your performance. “After
doing this,” says Kramer, “I gained eight
percent efficiency, which is huge.”
Friends of mine who ride are excited
to hear I’m trying out the sport.
They’ve let me borrow gear, referred
me to articles, loaned me books. But
I’ve yet to talk my way onto any of their
scheduled rides. “It took me a while to
reach an aerobic level to ride with these
guys,” explains a friend who rides with
me one on one, but won’t bring me
along to ride with his regular crew on
Thursday mornings. “No offense, but
we’d drop you pretty quick. You
couldn’t keep up.”
I get a sense of what he’s talking about
on this second foray. “If I was on a regular
ride,” he says as we approach another hill,
“we wouldn’t be talking so casually along
this stretch.” With this, he takes off down
the hill, leaving me in the dust.