When I was a mountain-biking teenager hanging out with other mountain-biking teenagers, one of our favourite pastimes was making fun of road cyclists, or “roadies” as we unaffectionately referred to them. I mean, how lame is riding on a busy road compared to hitting sweet singletrack and boosting jumps?
Like a lot of teenagers, I thought I knew everything. And later on I realized my views on the sport of road cycling were, in fact, incredibly ignorant. The first epiphany occurred when I met a fellow rider from my mountain bike club who also road biked. The crew was razzing him on his opinion of why road bikes were way more exciting to race than mountain bikes (clarification: we’re talking about cross-country MTB racing here, which was a lot more popular before enduro came along).
“Tactics,” he replied coolly. “With road, you’re constantly playing chess with slipstreams, attacks and breakaways. With mountain biking, one guy will get way ahead and no one can catch them grinding in the forest.”
Having completed my share of cross-country MTB races—some even with decent results—I had trouble countering that argument. I had also begun to take notice of the amazing televised coverage of the Tour de France every year and saw those road racing tactics in action. I have to give credit to the expert commentary of Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen for everything I know about the world’s greatest cycling race and the riders and teams who dominated it over the years.
While I never intended to race road bikes, I always wondered if I would enjoy riding them recreationally. I had thrown a leg over one, of course, and I knew the appeal of such minimal rolling resistance and the speeds the bike can go when you have a downhill piece of road and a tailwind. But it was never a priority to get properly equipped for it. It can be a hard sell when three knobby-tire bikes already occupy your living space. But when I made the decision to buy a trainer for indoor cycling in the fall and winter, buying an actual road bike and smart trainer made so much more sense than getting something as outlandish as a Peloton. Last year was the first time I rigged up a new-to-me Wahoo Kickr smart trainer with a Cannondale Synapse road bike, all of which you can read about in my April 6, 2021 column “The inescapable convenience of indoor cycling.”
So with a perfectly capable road bike sitting in my home office, I figured I’d be remiss if I didn’t get it out on the road at least a handful of times last summer. It wasn’t easy to justify leaving my mountain bike in the garage and road biking instead, but I found this was an easier decision when I was recovering from one of my many mountain bike crashes.
My first few rides I kept it simple and looped around Westside Road, with a climb up Stonebridge. Turning around at the start of the Sirloin climb to just ride back down the road felt strange, but to get the most out of road biking, you have to stop comparing it to mountain biking every second.
The next ride I tackled was from Whistler to WedgeWoods, about 32 kilometres round trip. This began to get a bit more exciting (and scary) since it was my first attempt at riding properly on Highway 99 and getting passed by cars driving in excess of 100km/hr. The best part was riding on the freshly paved surface between Alpine and Emerald—remember the one that caused all the traffic headaches last summer? Well, riding on that butter-smooth asphalt with slick, road bike tires felt like black pow, or something.
Before the All Time Fall Time riding season kicked in, I wanted to try my hand at a classic Whistler road ride out to Whistler Olympic Park. I chose a sunny September afternoon, snapped the visor off my helmet and took off down the highway. Southbound had quite a bit of downhill cruising, which I knew would come to greet me later as an uphill grind. I found piles of gravel that I had to carefully dodge without giving myself a flat, or worse, making myself into a traffic statistic. I scanned ahead for a safe line on the right of the rumble strip where I could and always, always keeping my wits about me.
Once I turned onto Callaghan Road the whole experience felt more relaxed. Fewer cars, amazing views and friendly waves from every single road cyclist I passed in the opposite direction. By the time I pulled into my driveway I was feeling it from 50 kilometres and 770 metres of climbing. My mountain bike certainly can’t rack up those stats in two hours.
If only my teenage self could have seen that.
Vince Shuley still prefers his mountain bikes 95 per cent of the time. For questions, comments or suggestions for The Outsider email [email protected] or Instagram @whis_vince.
