"Humility is to make a right estimate of oneself."
— Charles H. Spurgeon
In my last post I talked a bit about my first adventures on a fatbike and the attraction of biking. As last summer moved on, the adventure started to come into focus.
For me, that means becoming knowledgeable about that which I am going to do. In biking, that means understanding what all the terminology means and how it impacts your choices.
Some of those terms
- Frame size
- BB to Ground
- Bottom bracket
- Seattube Angle
- BB drop
- Standover
- Top tube effective
- Headtube angle
- Stack
- Reach
- Crank Length
- Hydraulic versus disk
- CroMoly versus Aluminum Alloy 6061 versus Carbon
- Through axle
- 22x36 gearing
I'm assuming I'm not the normal buyer. I tend to want to dive in, understand the details and question the claims. I did that here that resulted in a home grown spreadsheet comparing numerous bikes and how their "fit" would impact my riding.
Armed with more information and the ability to speak somewhat coherently with bike shops, I started shopping and comparing the feel of these bikes. By this time - the fall of 2014, I was really excited by the concept of being able to ride this bike year round - summer, fall, winter and spring.
The fatbike was a creation of some enthusiasts who were looking to find a bike that would "float" more on the top of surface (mud, mush, gravel, snow) rather than sink into the grooves that skinny tires happen to create.
The closer we got to snow on the ground, the more excited and focused I became about riding. Not just the seasonal cyclist but joining a small but growing crowd of "fatbikers" - those few select people who would get together on a Saturday afternoon, spend their time biking through the snow or whatever else nature threw their way, and coming out smiling and laughing.
Meanwhile, I continued to ride a borrowed bike and continued to see small, incremental improvements that offered encouragement. Those "massive mountains" become decent hills. The "long" rides became shorter. The muscle fatigue and high heart rates started to moderate. It was becoming easier. Or so I thought.
The week after Thanksgiving and thanks to a good year in business, I was on my way to the bike store. I had picked my machine and I was prepared to plunk some hard earned money down and "invest" in this sport.
I picked up a Salsa Blackborow fatbike. Here it is in its natural habitat - in the woods, in the snow, in the middle of winter.
I could not WAIT to get on this for a "real" ride. That happened on a Tuesday night in the first weeks of December. It was the "Tuesday night River Bottoms" ride. It was a "no-drop" ride meaning even the slowest, weakest rider (me) wouldn't be left to die in the woods. It was a gorgeous night - clear, crisp, 15 degrees F, and about 4-5" of snow on the ground.
I dressed warmly in layers as I was told to do and off I went. I was nervous and excited about this "easy" 11 mile ride through the woods. There were about 14 of us that night and the pre-ride conversation was nice. The people were nice and the conversation very welcoming and friendly and I was excited! Off we went.
Down the first bank and on to the trail was exhilerating. I had NEVER ridden a bike in the woods, NEVER ridden at night, NEVER on this bike, and NEVER in the winter. The riders all streamed by me, except for one, and I followed along as best I could. I didn't know where I was going and boy was I surprised at the downed tree right in front of me. I said outloud "oh well" and ran up to it, lifted the front wheel and plowed over! This bike really can go ANYWHERE! My confidence grew a tiny bit.
I was sucking wind. Fortunately, the group ahead waited up for me and we took a short break to recover a bit. But, in the winter, if you stop too long, you get really cold. So our breaks were short. We got to Nine-mile creek, the turn around point. We had gone 5 miles, at night, in the snow, in 15 degree weather. It had taken me a little less than one hour.
I had many thoughts. I was once again disappointed in how slow I was, how wiped out I felt, and that I had to somehow make my way back to my car. The one gentleman who stayed with me was full of encouragement. Just one year ago, he was in my shoes and kept encouraging me and stopped with me and helped me look around and enjoy that beauty.
That is one experience that has been consistent in my biking experience - everyone, at some point, was where you are right now! And, to a person, the message has been clear - enjoy your surroundings and realize how great it is...in the moment.
Eventually, an hour later I made it back to my car, loaded my bike, took off one layer of wet and cold and replaced it with a warmer jacket. I inhaled all the water I could find and continued to cough and cough all the way home. I was exhausted, light headed, sore, and excited for the next time I could get out.
My adventure was clearly coming into focus. I needed to get alot better, get more in shape, get used to riding in winter and get more confident and comfortable with my bike.
In a very real sense, I started to realize how weak I was and how much this new experience would allow me to get better.
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