20 random observations on touring by bike
My world changed when I got on my bike to view the world from a different point of view.
Being a tourist on a bike taught me a lot about myself and the world. I gained confidence and had to be self-reliant. I took on challenges that seemed impossible. I grew a greater appreciation of the world at the speed of a bike. I experienced the kindness of others.
I jotted down 20 random observations from my 13 years as a bicycle tourist. Some may seem obvious. Some may be unexpected. Some are just funny. Each of them made me a better tourist and person on the bike.
The worst of times become the most memorable times. Drenched in torrential rain or lost in a lonely place are two of many unwelcome times on the bike. I have always overcome them. They are stories I remember and celebrate.
Trail angels appeared when I needed them. Helping hands and words of strangers appeared when l was lost in need of directions or stopped by a flat with no spare. I try to be that cyclist when I come upon others in need.
You pack less only to find you pack too much. I have been fine-tuning my touring gear list since my first tour. I pare off a few more pounds with each iteration. At the end of every tour, I ask myself, “Why did I pack that?”
Sit at the counter to learn about people and places. One of my favorite things about solo touring is small-town diners. I understand more about people and places by sharing a meal at the counter with locals.
The first day is challenging. The second is learning. The third is routine. The first two days on the bike are all about figuring things out. By the third, I have a routine down for the remaining tour days.
There is nothing sweeter than the last mile. Crossing the finish line is celebrated in races. Touring for me is not a race, but nothing is sweeter than that last mile. I celebrate that mile filled with the memories made on the miles behind me.
Flats always happen on the rear tire. I don’t think I have ever had a flat front tire. Rear tire stress comes from my weight and the weight of the rear panniers. I groan hearing the thump and hiss. I pare the pounds, but weight and gravity tell me to carry less next time.
More memories are made the slower I go. I adopted the philosophy that experiences during the day make for good times and lasting memories of the tour. More opportunities happen when I travel at a slower pace.
Halves make time and miles pass fast. A fellow cyclist turned me on to Zeno’s dichotomy paradox. The idea is that a destination is reached by repeatedly halving the remaining distance. It’s a mental exercise that speaks to the math guy in me.
Good friends don’t necessarily make good companions. Experience taught me this the hard way. People I casually enjoy time with for a few-hour bike ride may not be the ones I enjoy spending 24 hours a day, 7 days a week on a tour. I now choose my touring companions wisely.
Getting lost happens. Embrace it. The best-laid plans and technology are not foolproof. Getting lost is part of my life on the bike. I found my way. You will find your way. I don’t let emotions ruin my day. I relish my lostness and the way I got back on course.
People want to hear my story. I ask for theirs. My fully laden bike is a conversation starter. People are curious and want to hear about my experiences. I make it a two-way conversation by asking for and listening to their stories. I have never been disappointed.
Waterproof, waterproof, waterproof! The forecast said the days would be sunny. I prepared for some rain, but not an all-day downpour. I put waterproofing myself and my belongings high on my tour to-do prep. Do it. You will thank me.
Taking unscheduled breaks is what this is all about. I budget my day based on the speed and miles I want to cycle. It’s a loose-goosey budget that prioritizes enjoying the surroundings, experiencing the local flavor, and getting to know the people and places.
I set a goal but not miles and time. Every day on tour is an opportunity to discover something new. I make a goal challenging myself to be unpredictable and veer off my agenda. Unexpected encounters and experiences make it a tour and not a ride.
I set the rules and expectations before my first pedal. My bike besties are psyched for a group tour. What could go wrong? Plenty! I gather them to agree on the expectations and rules for the tour. Tours fall apart when the pedaling is only based on friendships and assumptions.
Finding my way is more than maps and apps. Technology makes finding my way as easy as starting an app. Owning my way is double-checking my route and app, navigating planned and planned detours, and familiarizing myself with the area. I prepare for the unexpected.
I pass at least one Dollar General store every day. Living in rural Ohio I jokingly describe distances by the number of Dollar General stores I pass. These convenience stores are plentiful along backroads and small towns and are a gift to bike tourists.
Hills and wind are always in the wrong direction. I checked and the winds were going to be tailwinds. They were not. The elevation was gently rolling. It was not. This is part of the cycling experience. I make them more of an issue than they are.
I enjoy every tour. I don’t regret any tour that I rode. Each stands out in some way. Excellent weather and experiences are easy wins. Rain and less-than-desirable conditions are hard wins. Every tour uncovers something about myself and where I visited.
