Under Biking
Or: How I Learned to Stop Complaining and Love the Ride
By Dave Evans
Dave Evans is a Northern Virginia cyclist who calls Prince William County home. He’s the Vice President of the Quantico Mountain Bike Club (QMTB) and loves to ride road, gravel, and mountain; if it has two wheels, and it’s pedal powered, chances are Dave’s been on it…
“That place is boring, can’t we go somewhere else?”
How many times have you been trying to nail down ride plans, only to have someone say that?
How many times have YOU been the one to say that?
Unless you’re greener than green, you have probably been responsible for uttering these exact words at some point, either on a group chat or on social media (and it got a bunch of likes). You felt validated.
Well, I’m here to tell you that you were wrong.
It’s Not the Trail, It’s You
Think back to the first time you graduated from that wide gravel path around the local lake to actual trail riding. It’s so skinny! How can I possibly stay on the trail? The trees are so close, what if I hit one? Wow, this section has a lot of roots, I almost lost control! How does anyone actually ride this stuff?
Morgan Freeman: “But it wasn’t the GoPro Effect. The trail was actually as basic as a ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ sign at a Hallmark store.”
You stuck with it.
You worked at it.
You found other riders to share in the experience, and they helped you push past your comfort zone. They introduced you to new trails in the area with new more difficult features.
Suddenly, that budget hardtail wasn’t cutting it.
Full suspension achievement unlocked!
Jumps! Drops! Rocks! Isn’t this just the best thing ever? You are now heading out of town on weekends to the [somewhat] local bike park. You’re hitting bigger and harder features in the mountains. That’s when the shine started to fade on what used to be your local stomping ground. You forgot it…
It’s natural to want to progress and tackle new challenges. We all grow as riders, becoming both more skilled and more physically fit. Adding skill means that we want progressively more advanced features to challenge us. Becoming more physically fit means that we want steeper and longer climbs; longer rides. Pursuing those things typically means upgrading to equipment that can better handle the new challenges. This, in turn, opens the door to more features and often hidden challenges found behind longer, more difficult destinations. You’re now a long way away from your local stomping ground. The one you forgot a while back…
Does this mean that trail you started on is only for beginners? No, of course not!
One Hand Behind Your Back
I got to this point myself a few years ago. Laurel Hill was my forgotten trail system. The one where I knew I wasn’t going to get in over my head. As I progressed as a rider, I upgraded to a full suspension bike. Then a bigger full suspension bike. I was going to Laurel Hill less and less. I just started to get bored with it, even on a hardtail.
When I got into that mindset, I started talking negatively about that place without considering how it made more novice riders feel. This is exactly the type of behavior that sees beginners getting hurt at Fountainhead. “They told me it was green!”
By this time, I had a road bike, which scratched that pure cardio hammerfest itch, so what did I need Laurel Hill for? Was I really going to throw my bike on the rack and drive over to Lorton for a workout? No! I was going to roll straight out of my garage in the pursuit of the almighty Strava suffer score, since that drive time just became ride time, baby!
Matt Eggleton (above) likes this…
I eventually got a gravel bike, since subtracting cars and traction made road biking even more fun. Now, I could head out to Loudoun on weekends, grind up punishing hills, and bomb down the other side, tail sliding around corners. This was the light bulb moment: what if I took the gravel bike on singletrack?
Back to Laurel Hill, the forgotten tail, I went. Suddenly, those easy trails became a challenge again. Boring on a hardtail? Well, ride them with 1.5” wide tires, no dropper post, no suspension, a steep head tube angle, and narrow bars. This place is lame, remember? Too easy, just like you told everyone on social media!
Except that this time around I shattered every single PR I had when the trail pointed up. I had taken care of the skills challenge problem and made the fitness side of the equation easier. Dropping ten pounds and decreasing rolling resistance meant that I was just hammering my way up every single hill. It was no longer much of a workout.
Sure, I could ride from home, adding an hour and half in riding time, but I often didn’t have “that time” during the week. That would be a three hour commitment. I could drive there and knock an hour off... I found myself back to where I started, thinking that the three hours would be better spent driving to a place that was more challenging. Deja vu…
Your Gears. You Do Not Need Them.
Singlespeed is for those lunatics that hate their knees, right? At least that’s what I always thought. Why would I get rid of perfectly good gears? That sounds like a terrible idea.
Aren’t you the one riding a gravel bike on singletrack?
Well, maybe my lunatic friends aren’t wrong. They all seem perfectly happy and not in knee braces. I have a hardtail, so why not spend a couple hundred to give it a try?
Singlespeed is for those lunatics that hate their knees, right? At least that’s what I always thought. Why would I get rid of perfectly good gears? That sounds like a terrible idea.
My prediction. Pain.
Well, maybe my lunatic friends aren’t wrong. They all seem perfectly happy and not in knee braces. I have a hardtail, so why not spend a couple hundred to give it a try?
Yep, it definitely hurt at first. Even if you’re someone who goes out of their way to find stupid things to climb, you’re just not prepared for the moment those bailout gears are gone. What I didn’t expect was that I was no longer able to accelerate into a descent or power out of a corner like I did with a geared bike. Loose speed, and it’s hard to get it back. I found myself becoming hyper-focused on cornering, line choice, and trying to avoid grabbing the brakes. Instead of taking the rowdy or challenging path through a section, I picked the smooth, fast line. There is a way through the corner that feels fast, and then there is a way that is actually fast.
I finally found the solution to that problem of trails growing stale, since it’s hard to be bored when you’re trying to keep your cadence up for the next climb. It doesn’t matter that the place isn’t feature rich, since you’ve got your hands full with staying clean and consistent with your cornering.
Is singlespeed for everyone? No, of course not, but that shouldn’t be the takeaway.
The important thing is to think differently about how you approach your riding. Fun can be found just about everywhere. You just have to be willing to try something different and learn to stop complaining.
Just “love the ride.”