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I See by Your Bicycle — Part Two

By Maynard Hershon

I promised another article on how bikes and riders look to me. Here it is. If it points an accusing finger at you or your bike, I apologize for any hurt feelings. These are the observations of an old roadie who has been watching cyclists and their equipment for decades but sometimes gets it wrong.

Flat pedals, one may notice, have returned from near extinction. They have their place, somewhere, and can be ridden in any-old shoes, duh, but flat pedals belong on ride-to-work bikes, not bikes ridden for sport. Why, as so many do, put $59 pedals on a $5,900 bike?

I wouldn’t have mentioned pedals had I not just ridden the Elephant Rock Century starting and ending in Castle Rock, Colo. I saw folks riding flat pedals with (and without) toe clips on high quality, hyperlight bikes — bikes designed for climbing specialists in TdF mountain stages.

I saw a guy on a Scott racing bike riding flat pedals in white, thick-soled running shoes. As they say in countries where tradition and appropriateness remain alive: Isn’t done. It’s like white sweat socks peeking out from underneath your tuxedo trousers and above your patent leather shoes.

Evidently, the Scott rider can afford an expensive, race-bred bicycle, but he’s unwilling to outfit himself or learn how to use it properly. He may also own an ever-so-capable AMG Mercedes sedan and drive it as badly as he did his previous car, a Buick Sun City Special.

If you ride flat pedals with toe clips and your feet are placed on the flip sides so the clips and straps drag the ground, please buy clip-in pedals. If this option seems scary, simply have your shop remove the clips from your flat cheapies. Admit that you just weren’t cut out for toeclips. They’re just too technical.

In days of old when clips were steel, dragging them made noise, pedal stroke after pedal stroke, so most people with clips used them correctly - toes stuck in the toe clips. Today’s plastic clips make no sound when they drag on the road. Even so, don’t imagine that no one notices.

I’d compare riding on the reverse side of toe clip pedals to forgetting to close your zipper, except that anyone can forget to zip, and only dweebs pedal on the back sides. Who’d ever have imagined there would be this many dweebs on bikes?

If you are in fact a dweeb, forgive me for my thoughtlessness. Oh, and check your zipper.

If you have recently completed the Near-Death Experience Forty Kilometer charity ride, please remove the event number stickers from your helmet and bicycle. You did the ride; thousands of your bravest, toughest friends did too. You rule, all of you, for getting out and pedaling the distance. Still, after you get home and you’ve showered and eaten restorative food, peel the stickers off your gear. No one cares after ride day if you did it, and only a precious few cared that day — after all, it’s just a bike ride. You weren’t, for example, an official Race Across America finisher. I have it on good authority that RAAM finishers remove their numbers soon after dipping a wheel in the Atlantic. They don’t want to seem too proud is the idea.

If you bought an official Near-Death Experience 2011 jersey, wear it when you do the Near-Death Experience 2012. Until then, wear something else. Surely you have tops that don’t boast about your exploits as a fearless cyclist. If your club or favorite shop sells a printed jersey, buy one and wear it. You’ll look great. Shop jerseys to my mind are almost invariably slimming.

Don’t, please, wear a jersey that advertises your bicycle brand, especially if you ride an exotic. These days, down tubes are so fat that logo letters can be three inches high. That logo may be repeated on fork tubes, seat stays, seat tube ... and your shorts. That’s enough, wouldn’t you say?

Can we talk about over-the-ankle Lance socks? I’m not sure even Lance looks good in them. But maybe you do. Anything, as they say, can happen.

I like a clean bike. I like a clean chain too, but many chains sparkle because no one has ever applied lube to them. A dry chain squeaks because it’s wearing out and protesting.

I do not fuss over my chains. Every five or ten rides I grab my chain’s bottom run with a rag and turn the pedals backward until the chain no longer leaves a black streak. Then I drip a little lube on each side of the pins on top of the bottom run as I pedal slowly backward. The chain still looks clean and it is also protected from rust and friction. It’s nearly silent. If following those instructions seems to be too much trouble or too messy, ask your shop mechanic if he or she will take a moment to do this for you. Wearing their shop jersey may help.

We have a Starbucks here in Denver in our flagship REI store, right where Cherry Creek meets the South Platte River. There’s a lovely patio outside and it’s a big bike rider hangout. Classy riders, in my experience, climb off their bikes before they reach the patio. They walk their bikes to a table. Riding among tables of coffee-drinkers is rude. It says things about you and your sense of self-importance that may be true, but you’d rather were not said. Walk your bike. Take your helmet off. Nice here, huh?

Finally, as my friend Bob Muzzy said too many years ago to contemplate: “The better the rider, the slower he goes in town.”

Muzzy, who could go really fast, chose to go slow when slow was appropriate. Even if you can’t go as fast as Bob could, you can still choose to go as slow as he would — when the time is right.

Think about it.

Contact Maynard on Twitter @maynardhershon or email him at mhreadermail@gmail.com.