Cycling: The Universal Language

When the weekend of niece visiting arrived, I of course decided to take my bike along with me. I have a cycling friend who lives in Arlington, and I thought it would be great to take advantage of my option week to ride with him on the Northern VA roads.

Unfortunately, he developed a raging cold the day before my arrival. I decided to bring the bike anyways, hoping that there would be some sort of group ride I could hook up with.

Was there ever.

A LBS directly across the street from my sister's condo, one which I never internalized until this very trip, gave me some good leads on local clubs and websites. A quick search revealed a ride that left literally around the block from where I'm shacked up. The weather report looked cold, but not prohibitive.

This morning I was tentative as I piled upon my many (many) winter layers. Where would we ride? Would anyone show up? What would they be like?

Quite soon, all my fears were laid to rest. Not only was it a solid turnout of 11 people, but there was also a well organized sign in sheet, cue sheets, and a plan to split into two speed groups.

The ride itself was unique to the area. We wound in and out and around local neighborhoods, past gorgeous houses, turning turning and turning some more. The cue sheet must have been useless to those not familiar with the route, as it literally made circles here there and everywhere. Since the main roads had way too much traffic, the only way to get a decent mileage was to wind (as in a clock, not head or tail). We made a rest stop not at a local gas station, but at a local McDonalds on an extremely busy city intersection. We zoomed through neighborhoods at a 22 mph paceline. We encountered not a single dog.

There were also unique to the area skills involved. Rolling through stop signs seemed to top the list. Also, we climbed hills only to literally turn around and bomb right back down them, which to someone who has never ridden the "roads" (think non maintained old residential streets) was super exciting, as potholes and sand from past snow storms made for some adrenaline producing sharp turns.

The best part, though? The people. Warm, open, smiling, joking, riding. In the midst of my training, the people have often been relegated to the side. Which is unfortunate, because the people is what I truly enjoy the most about riding. Being a badass is all well and good, but SHARING a badass ride with your fellow badass friends is even better.

It's also nice to know that no matter where I travel in the country, chances are there will be other warm, open, smiling, joking people to saddle up with. What other sport can you say the same for? Sure, you can pack your sneakers or your tennis racket and fly off on vacation, but can you hook up with a running group or a tennis group at literally a moments notice and not only be accepted, but welcomed? With open arms? I think not.

Which is yet another reason why I am so thankful to have found this sport. Cycling is a universal language that literally anyone can learn.