Everyone has an origin story of cycling. Most start with first bike as either a Christmas or birthday present or perhaps, even an earlier “neighborhood” bike that was passed around for all the kids of age to learn on. Then memories of riding as a kid to and from school and around the neighborhood to friends houses. Somewhere between mid-high school thru college and into early adulthood there may be some blank pages of cycling in the story of life. Then, somewhere late twenties to early thirties cycling seems to pop back into our daily lives. Maybe even mid Pandemic. The point is we all have an origin story of where cycling became cycling in our lives.
My post childhood origin story involves a $495 Trek 4900 mountain bike, then 5 or so months later an Ultegra equipped carbon Trek 5200 super bike. It started with a group of friends at work before getting brave and showing up to one of the weekly Murfreesboro bike club rides after weeks of not attending for whatever reason I could think up.
The ride I chose to show up to was an early winter off-season club ride but there were still 10 or so folks who showed up to ride in the snow and cold. The stalwarts I would soon learn. I also learned that road riders (aka roadies or people who ride drop bar cycles on the pavement primarily) mean to leave at 5pm if a ride is listed at 5pm, whereas us mtb’ers (aka mountain bikers or off-road cyclists) mean for people to start showing up at 5pm for a ride listed at 5pm and maybe rolling out 15-20 minutes later, or whenever your eternally “running late” buddy showed up. Who knew?
Nevertheless, it all worked out fine despite weeks of being too timid to show up and a bit of a mad dash to catch up for the 5pm ride. I was lucky to have fallen into this group. There were sock and sandal wearing leather brooks riding cyclists (looking at you Cary Way) and tandem couples (Larry and Sara, James and Brenda), and a few fellow mudders (Dwight and StevieMac), among myriad others. Under their guidance and tutelage, I not only learned how to safely ride in a group, but also how to properly end rides (at a killer mom and pop food joint), stop for the small things (like fresh grilled bologna sandwhiches and yoohoo mid-ride from some old off the beaten path country store), to traveling for rides so as to enjoy more of what the state has to offer, to riding gravel mountain roads on road bikes. It was an amazing time surrounded by amazing people.
Dwight and StevieMac introduced me to the enchanting world of cycling events such as the Assault on Mt. Mitchell road ride (my first 100 miles ever) to Leadville 100 MTB race (my first 100 miles off road ever) to the Off-Road Assault on Mt. Mitchell, and many, many other incredible and historic events and endeavors.
It was under all of their tutelage that much of my cycling persona was forged. Many others along the way have helped re-shape that base form, either by adding dimension, changing perspectives, or just by teaching me the way. It is a rich and everlasting school in which to be enrolled. Never stop learning.
The thing is, no matter where or when you started. What niche of a niche you currently belong to or are trying to create, someone, somewhere has done it before. And that is the crazy thing to me.
The other crazy thing is how universal cycling is. I’ve met people from Germany to Scotland, to England to Wales, to Italy and Belgium, to France and Czechoslovakia, and on and on all united by a bike. In seeing the world around us by pedaling a pushbike around different continents and countries. From shared experiences even if we don’t even speak the same language.
If you’re looking for some fun rabbit-holing, check out the Rough Stuff Fellowship. They are a group of British cyclotourists who in 1955 set about touring the unpaved roads and paths around the UK for fun and adventure on 50+ lbs lugged steel bikes either fixed gear or 3 speed not because it was hip or trendy, but because that is all there were for bikes at the time. It didn’t matter if they were young or old, man or woman, they all partook for the sake of fun and adventure. Bikepacking and gravel riding/mountain biking/all-road riding before either such category or label ever existed.
And what is even crazier, the Rough Stuff Fellowship formed out of a group that started in 1920’s from a group that started in the 1890’s!!! Such a rich history. I’m a huge fan of all the photos. Did I mention photos? Oh yea, long before Instagram or the Radavist, the RSF were documenting their adventures with film cameras. Selfies before selfies.
My point is, we all started somewhere and although our paths may differ, it doesn’t mean they can’t come together or cross. Being a cyclist means many different things to all people. Some enjoy waking up every day and riding the same route. Others constantly scour maps to find new places to explore. Others find joy in just riding to work or around the neighborhood trail. All perfectly acceptable definitions of cycling. “You do you” as they say. (They as in them). The main thing is to not let fear of taking that step into this weird and wonderful world of cycling stop you from finding your path as it almost did for me.
If you’re interested in finding your cycling path or perhaps burned out of riding the same loop by yourself, stop in and check us out. We have tours and events in the works. Some new ideas cooked up for some weekly rides and fun, as well as just love to talk bikes, adventures, dreams, and ideas.
