This Saturday reminded me how powerful a well-planned group ride can be. And even when it isn't well planned, how much it matters to have experienced people on hand to shepherd the flock from chilly start to coffee finish.
MBO, a new cycling apparel company making waves at Cycle Lab retail, hosted a road ride from Cycle Lab Fourways on Saturday. For a fresh Highveld July morning, we had a few more riders turn up than usual.
My name was down to lead D3s, the group made up mostly of beginners, novices and casual riders. Ever since I got back into YELLOW (the colour of a Cycle Lab group leader jersey), I've volunteered for the slower groups. After breaking my arm on Boxing Day, that felt like the right place to rebuild confidence and condition. It also gave me the perfect excuse to test-ride every eBike on the demo floor (check my Strava for the reviews).
Most of the MBO riders rolled out together, but a few missed the briefing and got left behind. Those riders, all new to a Cycle Lab club ride, ended up under my custodianship. I'm glad I was there. It's worth saying too, MBO clearly know how to get people out of bed on a cold Saturday.
Every Saturday morning, bar the stretch after 16 December through early January and the Saturday before Ride Joburg, there's always an official club ride rolling out from Cycle Lab Fourways, off Winnie Mandela Drive. Support vehicle, group leaders, and Think Bike marshals cover the major intersections out and back.
It's a staple that predates my own road riding. I remember when Cycle Lab's club rides rolled out from Design Quarter in the early 2000s, when I started. Before that, Andrew Mclean is said to have run his rides from a shop in Paulshoff. It's an institution: a recommended diet for weekend warriors and serious amateurs alike. A place to belong. A place to be seen. A place to grow. A place to show off a few watts now and then. A place of community.
The official rides cater to every ability and pace. There are road rides, mountain bike rides, and once a month now, a dedicated gravel ride, all leaving from the same spot. In the height of summer, with hours of morning daylight, we roll out at 6am. For a month either side of winter it's 6:30, and through the coldest, darkest months, 7am. No lights needed, unless you like being seen by motorists.
"A place to belong. A place to be seen. A place to grow. A place of community."
In winter, though, layer up properly: full-finger gloves, a buff, a gilet or long-sleeve jersey, and arm and knee warmers (for anyone who hasn't met them, they're the warm, lined Lycra tubes that slide up the arms to the shoulder, or over the knee and lower leg, tucked under your bib shorts). Even on our coldest Highveld mornings, a good pair of gloves, arm and knee warmers, a gilet, and a buff or skull cap will get you through the first 30 minutes.
On Saturday, Tyler, a Grade 10 from Northcliff High, pitched up in short-finger gloves, short sleeves, and short bibs. His mate Raeas at least had a long-sleeve shirt under his jersey, but neither boy was ready for the Cedar Road descent. The youth don't know what they don't know. They do now: a 7am winter club ride out to the Cradle demands more layers.
The trick with cycling apparel is layering. You take clothing off as you warm up, and you will warm up once you're pedalling harder. Some brave souls just tough out the cold until it lifts. I'd rather not suffer through that first bit, and maybe that's my age (half a century and counting). On a road ride I'll happily commit to knee warmers for three hours. On a mountain bike, where the pace is slower and there's always one huge climb waiting, they matter less. Gloves and a buff, though, are non-negotiable, and both stuff easily under the back of your jersey once you start overheating. A few riders on Saturday were kitted out in MBO, the new apparel brand hosting the ride, and it held up well through the layering chaos.
Don't wait until you overheat. I take my gloves off first: it cools the whole body down from the knuckles, like a car radiator. Then the buff, usually pulled up over half my bald head and across my mouth, which cuts the cold air going down your throat but leaves you sounding hoarse by the end of the ride. The gilet, a small miracle of cycling apparel with a thick windproof front and a breathable mesh back, comes off before the knee warmers. Knee warmers are more of a faff and usually need a stop to remove safely. Can I take them off while riding? Yes, I can. Should I? My wife would probably say no.
Our D3 group ended up five riders plus me. For half the ride, as the last group on the road, we had the luxury of Phinneas following in the Cycle Lab van. Ironically, right after we turned at the 30km mark, I sent him off to find the back of the second-last group, further down Kromdraai Road. Then we had two punctures.
Cue the "how to fix a flat on a group ride" lesson. It became a teaching moment, though not my finest one: we ended up fixing the same tyre twice, a few kilometres apart, because I missed a tiny piece of wire in it the first time, right after lecturing everyone on how important it is to check carefully. Rookie error.
We were just grateful that the rider in question (forgive me if I butcher the name: Ithula, or Ithuli) had every spare we needed: a spare tube, tyre levers, two CO2 cartridges, a CO2 adapter, and a multi-tool to get her wheel off. She admitted she had no idea how to use any of it, but she had it all the same. One puncture came just before the circle at the end of Beyers, the next by Valverdi's driveway.
On the way back, several of the quicker, longer groups caught up with us, so for stretches we rode as more than just our six. There's something uniquely special about a large group trundling along together. As long as everyone rides properly, side by side, no overlapping wheels, calling out potholes, the group moves like a well-oiled machine. Unlike the washing-machine chaos of a racing peloton, a group ride stays civilised: two abreast, unless the road calls for single file, riders shoulder to shoulder, following the wheel ahead without overlapping.
In a crosswind, the stronger riders take the windward side and let the weaker riders shelter on the leeward side. Done right, you can save up to 30% of your energy sitting in that shelter. It doesn't always happen, but as a group leader, managing it through heavy winds and long straight sections is vital for everyone's survival and enjoyment, and for keeping the average speed up without everyone pushing harder than they need to.
Three hours and 60km later, our group rolled into the parking lot friendlier than when we'd left. We'd endured something together. The punctures, much as I'd never wish for them on a group ride, gave us a chance to get to know each other. We'd started as strangers, bar Monique and me, who know each other from Jozi Trails, and we finished chatting and thanking one another for a fantastic morning on the bikes. Everyone survived, and Phumie's sensible call at the 30km mark to turn back, rather than push on another 5km, saved us in hindsight.
The post-ride coffee is the reason we ride. Add a slice of cake or a muffin and it's even better. Someone could write an entire blog on the coffee stop alone: war stories shared, friendships forged, a bit of good-natured badgering. That place of belonging I mentioned at the start.
If you don't have a regular group ride, Cycle Lab Active has a group for you. From racing snakes to casual riders just finding their feet, there's a pace and a crew to match. Try a few. Find your people. These rides have a way of producing mates for life.
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