I need to fess up. I’m a roadie snob. Can’t help it. Having ridden both mountain bikes and road bikes over the past many years, I’m a certified, carbon-fibered, speed-loving, asphalt-riding roadie, through and through.
Maybe it’s because mountain bikes are typically ridden over – duh – mountainous, hilly, rough, steep, rocky terrain. You know, the kind of ground that can wreak serious havoc on over-the-hill bodies like mine. Oh sure, hitting the hard pavement doing 30 to 35 mph is no walk in the park, either. In fact, a good road-riding friend of mine (several years older than moi, I might add) had a close encounter with the highway a few years back. He doesn’t remember what made him fall, but he woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital with a badly broken collar bone that required many months of recuperation and physical therapy to heal. To this day, he can’t raise his arms above shoulder height without pain.
But at least most asphalt or pavement is relatively flat – as opposed to dirt trails with sharp, jagged rocks, sharp pokey branches and life-threatening drop offs – to name just a few of the hazards. On the road, you only have to worry about tires blowing out at high speed, cars, broken glass, cars, pedestrians crossing in front of you, dogs, cars, squirrels (don’t ask), wheels that taco on sharp corners and (did I mention?), cars.
Okay, so maybe road bikes aren’t that much safer (and maybe even worse) than mountain bikes. But there’s just something cool about being able to cover so much distance on two wheels under your own power. And as futile as trying to ride a skinny tired, rigid-framed road bike on a dirt trail would be, it’s also kinda goofy to see guys on their mountain bikes huffing and puffing along an asphalt road – much of their energy being used up and wasted bouncing up and down on their bike’s spongy suspension, along with the rolling resistance of fat, knobby tires against hard pavement.
I must say, it’s a small victory when I’m able to ride right past some younger, in shape guy and leave him in my substantial turbulence (think Boeing 747 passing a hang glider at 30,000 feet), even though I know perfectly well that my speed is only due to the type of bike I’m riding. For a fleeting moment, I can pretend to know what Lance feels like blowing past Carlos Sastre on the Alpe d’Huez.
Of course, any serious road biker could clean my corpulent clock even if they rode a Huffy tricycle. But I can dream.
Here’s another plus to riding road bikes over mountain bikes: when you break down on a road bike, there’s a good chance you can call a friend to come pick you up in their car and be back home nursing a cold one in the time it takes a mountain biker to stumble the first mile back down the trail carrying his bike on his shoulder.
Mountain bikes? Only about 30 pounds psi in the tires. Like a kiddy bike. Road bikes roll on an impressive 110 pounds psi. Pump that! I’m talkin’ serious air pressure, dude.
Oh, and one last reason to look down my sweat-dripping nose at people of the mountain bike persuasion is that these poor souls don’t get the pleasure of wearing clown-colored, tight fitting jerseys that zip up the front like an ultra-cool dentist’s smock along with body-hugging lycra pants that … well, that are ridiculously tight. You’d ride away real fast, too, if you were wearing a getup like that. Ride on.
Maybe it’s because mountain bikes are typically ridden over – duh – mountainous, hilly, rough, steep, rocky terrain. You know, the kind of ground that can wreak serious havoc on over-the-hill bodies like mine. Oh sure, hitting the hard pavement doing 30 to 35 mph is no walk in the park, either. In fact, a good road-riding friend of mine (several years older than moi, I might add) had a close encounter with the highway a few years back. He doesn’t remember what made him fall, but he woke up in an ambulance on the way to the hospital with a badly broken collar bone that required many months of recuperation and physical therapy to heal. To this day, he can’t raise his arms above shoulder height without pain.
But at least most asphalt or pavement is relatively flat – as opposed to dirt trails with sharp, jagged rocks, sharp pokey branches and life-threatening drop offs – to name just a few of the hazards. On the road, you only have to worry about tires blowing out at high speed, cars, broken glass, cars, pedestrians crossing in front of you, dogs, cars, squirrels (don’t ask), wheels that taco on sharp corners and (did I mention?), cars.
Okay, so maybe road bikes aren’t that much safer (and maybe even worse) than mountain bikes. But there’s just something cool about being able to cover so much distance on two wheels under your own power. And as futile as trying to ride a skinny tired, rigid-framed road bike on a dirt trail would be, it’s also kinda goofy to see guys on their mountain bikes huffing and puffing along an asphalt road – much of their energy being used up and wasted bouncing up and down on their bike’s spongy suspension, along with the rolling resistance of fat, knobby tires against hard pavement.
I must say, it’s a small victory when I’m able to ride right past some younger, in shape guy and leave him in my substantial turbulence (think Boeing 747 passing a hang glider at 30,000 feet), even though I know perfectly well that my speed is only due to the type of bike I’m riding. For a fleeting moment, I can pretend to know what Lance feels like blowing past Carlos Sastre on the Alpe d’Huez.
Of course, any serious road biker could clean my corpulent clock even if they rode a Huffy tricycle. But I can dream.
Here’s another plus to riding road bikes over mountain bikes: when you break down on a road bike, there’s a good chance you can call a friend to come pick you up in their car and be back home nursing a cold one in the time it takes a mountain biker to stumble the first mile back down the trail carrying his bike on his shoulder.
Mountain bikes? Only about 30 pounds psi in the tires. Like a kiddy bike. Road bikes roll on an impressive 110 pounds psi. Pump that! I’m talkin’ serious air pressure, dude.
Oh, and one last reason to look down my sweat-dripping nose at people of the mountain bike persuasion is that these poor souls don’t get the pleasure of wearing clown-colored, tight fitting jerseys that zip up the front like an ultra-cool dentist’s smock along with body-hugging lycra pants that … well, that are ridiculously tight. You’d ride away real fast, too, if you were wearing a getup like that. Ride on.
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