For years, I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with cycling. I love the sport – when you’re spinning along or sailing down a hill, there’s nothing like it. But sometimes it seems like a lot of added complexity (all that equipment – easier to just go for a run, when you really get down to it) or danger (car doors, angry motorists, bike path loiterers, the ever-present fear of a crash). I can go for long stretches in which it seems like just a little bit too much. But when cycling and I are on, we’re really on.

Like in May 2014, when I rode in the Five Boro Bike Tour (forty miles through all five boroughs of New York City) with my dad, brother, and sister-in-law (at the time, she was my brother’s girlfriend). Don’t mind my backwards helmet cover. Why didn’t someone tell me?

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That was an epic day! Made even better by the cuteness of our cheering squad:

I can’t even remember Peanut being that small.

A year ago now – at the beginning of the pandemic – I started really encouraging the kids to ride their bikes. Both were on training wheels and we had some good rides on the bike path near our old house in Old Town Alexandria – although I foresaw difficulties ahead with their different natural speeds. Nugget would zoom on ahead while Peanut inched along, talking about cartoons and getting dramatic about every small incline or decline in the trail. There was no way she was moving fast enough to stay upright if she lost the training wheels – hmmmmm.

Nugget did not have the same issues.

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Biking buddies!

After a year’s worth of pandemic biking, my parents decided it was time for both kids to drop their training wheels. They were right. I just didn’t have the time or energy to deal with those first two-wheeler lessons. Between working at my old job, interviewing for my new job, administering virtual school, and trying to keep the whole family upright and healthy – I was tapped out. Over Easter weekend, while my parents were visiting, my dad went into the garage and unscrewed the training wheels, then took both kids to a local school parking lot for their first lessons. As I predicted, one kid was a total drama llama, and the other took to it immediately. Three guesses who.

We even had to bring Nugget’s bike to Albany when we visited over the break between my jobs. He can’t be separated from it.

Needless to say, I’m excited to have a biking buddy – but it also occurred to me that I need to get back on the roads, for real, myself. Since we moved out to western Fairfax County, I’ve been paralyzed in the biking department. I was excited to ride out here – when we were looking at houses, I saw plenty of cyclists on the roads and figured that one day soon, that would be me! When it came down to it, though, the narrow lanes and blind curves scared me. I’ve seen how cars fly around corners here, even on my residential street (that’s another story…) and the long stretches of vehicle-free country roads turned out to be a figment of my imagination. The local bike trail wasn’t really convenient to get to, meanwhile, and my neighborhood is made up of a bunch of culs-de-sac (and a few thru roads, including mine, woof) – not great for biking.

People do make road biking happen out here, obviously – like those gaggles of cyclists I saw while house-hunting. But I learned that the bigger bike culture in my town revolves around mountain biking. It makes sense; we have an embarrassment of riches when it comes to trails. Everything from straight, flat, easy trails to winding, hilly technical courses is within a few minutes drive. And I also thought that a heavier, slower mountain bike would be a better choice for biking with Nugget (at least for now; he wants a “kids’ road bike” so look out). The problem? I’d gotten rid of my outdated, beat-up twenty-five year old mountain bike – intending to buy an updated model. But with the pandemic, there wasn’t a mountain bike to be had for love or money… until Nugget and I happened to stumble across the very model I’d been researching online.

I think Nugget might have been even more excited than I was – heh. We’ve made good use of our new purchase, heading out for rides on all variety of terrain a few times a week. Together we’ve explored trails at the parks in our town, shred the little hiking trail in our neighborhood, ridden the culs-de-sac near the house, and taken our bikes down to the bike path after I found an access point that was basically a straight shot from our house (much easier!).

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I love mountain biking – especially with the little shredder. We can happily explore trails together every weekend – and we are doing that. But somewhere in there, I started getting the itch to make road biking happen too. It may have been discovering that the bike path is more convenient than I originally thought. It might have been three weeks of watching the Tour de France. (Steve now says he wants a road bike, and to recommit to teaching Peanut to ride. YAY! Thanks Tadej Pogacar! Thanks Mark Cavendish! Thanks Team Jumbo-Visma!)

Somewhere in there, I discovered that the local bike club hosts multiple weekly rides – including a few that are women-only and very supportive. Figuring that my fear of riding on the roads out here might be mitigated if I was with a big group, I pulled out my road bike and signed up for one of the Monday evening rides – one that left from one of the (several!) local bike shops, and promised no drops and a friendly, welcoming atmosphere. It turned out to be just what I needed. Women of all ages gathered at the bike shop – I was probably the youngest, or no more than the second youngest, in the group; everyone brought their own excitement and their own hopes. The ride leader, Kelley, shouted safety tips and road-sharing instructions; sang aloud while riding; left no one behind; and called out encouragement to both the women in the group and the little girls we saw out on their bikes and scooters as we went screaming down the hills in the local neighborhoods. I rode next to another woman, Erin, who spent the whole time telling me that she hosts a women’s ride out of another bike shop on Saturdays and she could really use me “to help show the newbies how to shift gears.” Color me flattered!

Actually, color me beet-red (and disheveled) after fifteen hilly miles through the local streets, bike path sections, and a couple of major thoroughfares. I have Monday night commitments for the next few weeks, but I’ll definitely be back. With clipless pedals next time. I’m ready to ditch the fear.

Do you bike on the roads? Any tips for dealing with the (healthy) fear of cars and blind curves?