Half Man, Half Bike
"But Tony, who knew his boat so well, could feel the yaw before it happened, could correct an error before it occurred. This is no longer reason or thought. One achieves the same feeling on a horse he knows well; one almost feels the horse's impulse in one's knees, and knows, but does not know, not only when the horse will shy, but the direction of his jump. The landsman, or the man who has been long ashore, is clumsy with the wheel, and his steering in a heavy sea is difficult." John Steinbeck put those thoughts to word in about 1941 when he wrote The Log from the Sea of Cortez.
I read this passage on a recent day during which I had one of those phenomenal rides when everything seemed to be going right. The bike and I were perfectly attuned. Not only that, but this connection between bike and rider is something I had been pondering for a good week earlier, and attempting to figure out how best that pondering could be put into words. And then just like that (snap of fingers) there it was - about boats, and horses, and written by someone else, but still that uniquely instinctive connection that we, as riders, can achieve with our bikes.
When I was playing tennis and could be found on the court every day, the idea of being in the zone was becoming wide spread; there were those days when the racquet was more than a metaphorical extension of my arm. Those days (admittedly quite few) when I was in the zone, the racquet was my arm. Further, I imagine any activity in which our body interacts with some piece of equipment that enhances mobility or movement, to be the same.
When William Fotheringham, titled his book about Eddy Merckx Half Man, Half Bike, I am pretty sure he was thinking in more than just figurative terms. You don't get to the top by fighting against your bike. Bike and rider must operate in unison, two parts acting as one.
Fortunately we do not have to be the world's best in order to reach the zone; the zone is not the unique domain of the best, and out of reach of the rest. It is unique to us at what ever level we ride. We just have to ride enough to discover it, because understanding, knowing how our bike will react in any situation is the only path to acquire the confidence to let it.
I read this passage on a recent day during which I had one of those phenomenal rides when everything seemed to be going right. The bike and I were perfectly attuned. Not only that, but this connection between bike and rider is something I had been pondering for a good week earlier, and attempting to figure out how best that pondering could be put into words. And then just like that (snap of fingers) there it was - about boats, and horses, and written by someone else, but still that uniquely instinctive connection that we, as riders, can achieve with our bikes.
When I was playing tennis and could be found on the court every day, the idea of being in the zone was becoming wide spread; there were those days when the racquet was more than a metaphorical extension of my arm. Those days (admittedly quite few) when I was in the zone, the racquet was my arm. Further, I imagine any activity in which our body interacts with some piece of equipment that enhances mobility or movement, to be the same.
When William Fotheringham, titled his book about Eddy Merckx Half Man, Half Bike, I am pretty sure he was thinking in more than just figurative terms. You don't get to the top by fighting against your bike. Bike and rider must operate in unison, two parts acting as one.
Fortunately we do not have to be the world's best in order to reach the zone; the zone is not the unique domain of the best, and out of reach of the rest. It is unique to us at what ever level we ride. We just have to ride enough to discover it, because understanding, knowing how our bike will react in any situation is the only path to acquire the confidence to let it.
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