Thursday evening I showed up for a nearby bicycle shop group ride. I knew going in that the ride may be an overshoot because (1) my previous group riding experience consists of a few small social-type rides, and (2) it’s billed as an “A/B” ride with an average speed 2-5 mph faster than I normally ride.
But hey, why not?
I immediately establish my Fred credentials at the outset by (1) showing up late so that I joined the ride in progress a block from the start, and (2) eschewing standard cycling fashion and wearing a tank top.
Anyway, I merged in near the front of the approximately 20-rider pack. I really didn’t want to be at the front, but I was essentially boxed in for a couple miles so you gotta roll with the flow.
Frankly, being boxed in by other cyclists takes getting used to. I envisioned a downed cyclist in front triggering a domino-style crash.
Things went relatively well for the first four or five miles. I even took a pull. The group was in a fairly consistent two-abreast pace line and it was pretty straightforward to simply follow the wheel in front of you.
But then the organization and speed of the ride seemingly become more erratic. Eventually the four-lane road we had been riding turned into two lane. I quickly succumbed to the rookie mistake of letting too big a gap open up in front of me and once you lose the aerodynamic advantage of drafting off someone in front of you it takes a lot more effort to maintain your speed.
So I got dropped, but I continued fighting on and rejoined the pack when it stopped at a couple intersections.
I was still trying to go with the flow thereafter when I had my most gloriously Fredtastic, “I’m a clueless newbie” moment. Although I had been studiously observing the group, I had not yet picked up on the paceline rotation. And so, as I was cruising in the right line with a gap in front of me, I was notified–repeatedly by passing riders–that I needed to be in the left line if I wanted to lay back and not take pulls at the front.
Oh, the humanity.
Shortly thereafter I detonated and was dropped–this time, I thought, for good. But when I got to the next stoplight (near the half-way point) I happened upon three other dropees. I hooked up with them and availed myself of some drafting as we rounded the far side of the loop and headed back to the bike shop.
We shaved a couple miles off the normal route and eventually rendezvoused with part of the group. I hung onto the back for a while only to get dropped again on a slow climb. (I subsequently learned that they like to dial it up on that stretch. That kind of thing is good to know in advance).
I got saved by one more stoplight; the last couple miles were cool down so I was able to finish the 42-mile ride not in last place!
Is there a moral to this story? Not really. But if you’re going to ride in a fast group, (1) know the paceline rotation, and (2) stay glued to the wheel in front of you.
Next time I join that group ride I’ll really focus on (2) and see how long I can stay with the group.