Recently I capitulated to nostalgia and rode on some old wheels shod with 23 mm tires again. (I did it before.) These tires are actually narrower—22.4 mm when pumped to 90 PSI, which today seems like an absurdly high pressure. I used to think that 23 mm tires were too heavy and slow and I preferred 19 or 20 mm tires, which you can’t even get anymore. Do you remember when road bikes all came with 23 mm tires? Do you even pay attention to the width of your tires? If you’re new to road cycling, you’ve probably never even seen 23 mm tires. Tire width is esoterica only wheel nerds obsess about and you likely don’t give it a second thought. Odds are you’re riding 28 mm tires or wider since that’s the trend these days in road bikes. (You can look carefuly on the sidewall of your tires for something like “622-28”, the “28” indicating the nominal width of the tire when inflated.) Not that many years ago a 28 mm tire would have been considered enormous and many road racing bikes of the 1990s and early Aughts couldn’t fit anything bigger than a 25 mm tire, which was the widest size tire racers would use. The “standard” size was 23 mm.

In the past five years I have rarely ridden anything less than a 27 mm tire. This trend started when I got some Hed Belgium rims in 2012. These were heretically wide road rims for that era—21 mm internal width when the going trend was 17 or even just 14 or 15 mm. (Today we’re edging up to 23 and even 25 mm internal width!) I put nominal 25 mm tires on them and the extra width of the rims caused the tires to balloon out to 30 mm measured width. They were and continue to be the most comfortable road wheels I own. (Gravel and mountain bike wheels are another matter.) These are supremely plush yet fast wheels. Mind blown. Until then I ate only at the table of “skinny, pumped rock hard, light” so those Hed wheels were a revelation. Putting those HED wheels on any bike would improve the ride as long as the frame could accept that big and wide of a tire. Now I’ve become so used to wider tires that when I look at those wheels with 23 mm tires, they look scary thin; even 28 mm tires are starting to look “narrow” to me! Thanks to Jan Heine and Grant Peterson for debunking the old malarkey that skinnier meant better because faster. It turns out comfort can make you faster too.

I then began to experiment with different kinds and sizes of wheels and tires. I’ve tried 32 mm, 35 mm, and 42 mm tires as well as 650b rims. Each width is more comfortable than the other if a tad bit heavier. 650B wheels are heavier but they provide a Cadillac ride that puts a smile on my face most of the time. I haven’t looked back. The only “downgrade” I’ve played around with is 26 mm Rene Herse tires, which I’ve mentioned in the past. (These tires expand to about 27 or 28 mm in actual width.)

Going back to 23 mm tires for a week was a regression. But I couldn’t help it: the old bike that has these tires won’t take anything bigger than a 25 mm tire. So it’s stuck with skinny tires. Anyway my recollection was that the bike was fast and comfortable and I fondly remember many a ride zipping down roads at high speed. In particular I remember one fast ascent up Mt. Diablo, a club ride where I got schooled by Erik Leung. So I had to take a trip down memory lane hoping to relive those fond, or perhaps imagined, sensations of thin, light tires.

What was it like to ride an old bike with 23 mm tires now? To be honest it was a bit of a letdown. The wheels still felt sprightly and wickedly nimble—that much had not changed. They are fast. But the ride quality was comparatively awful: near constant vibration, juddering, and bouncing around whenever the asphalt was heaved or cracked. Perhaps roads are worse today than they were 25 years ago. Scratch that: roads ARE worse today. Counties cannot keep up with road maintenance because asphalt prices are much higher today, road budgets are cut, and road maintenance is partially funded by gasoline taxes, which are diminished by the explosion of electric car use. Torrential winter rains that wash out roads and increase pavement failures don’t help. The bike frame itself is quite compliant and not at all stiff and rigid like a carbon frame. But so much of the ride quality is due to the narrow tires. I used to think those sensations meant “excellent road feel” (= good!) when it’s really just being bounced up and down over every little bump in the pavement and feeling every little divot and crack. Those skinny tires pumped up to 95 pounds pressure were like riding on rigid Conestoga wagon wheels. My hands were aching so much that I thought I didn’t have gel gloves. But I did. The ride quality is not very forgiving. But that was what we were told back in the day how fast wheels were supposed to feel and we sure drank the Kool-Aid.

You’re not losing much by moving on to fatter tires. There is no doubt that they are heavier: there is more rubber and more casing. They do not spin up as quickly and that sublime feeling of “instant” acceleration that a light rim and tire give is muted by the extra mass. In exchange fatter tires make up for that minor buzzkill by providing a much more comfortable ride. It’s not exactly smooth but the jarring, shocking hits are replaced by subdued bumps. And the reduced bouncing actually makes for a faster ride. With 23 mm tires there is a constant benumbing vibration from every type of pavement save the smoothest of asphalt.

Yet skinny, narrow tires like 23 mm still have their allure. On smooth pavement they are addictive—they hum and flow and feel great. And if they’re 23 mm tubular tires (with silk casings), then they are like crack cocaine. Because they’re lighter they are absolutely amazing to spin up. And climbing on them is the cat’s meow because they accelerate easily with every pedal stroke. If I lived in a place with good roads like Switzerland, I’d ride 23 mm tires all the time. I don’t foresee local roads getting better with time, only progressively more awful. So 23 mm tires and their ilk have become for me a special use case. Or just a nostalgic visit to a previous era. With a harsh reality check.

For everyday riding here in the Bay Area a 28 mm tire is more comfortable and more functional. Those big volume tires allow lower inflation pressure and give a “magic carpet” ride while still being moderately light enough to feel a bit nimble. Plus, they’re less likely to incur a pinch flat when you hit that occasional monster pothole you didn’t see.

I don’t see myself going back to 23 mm tires as my regular ride; if anything I’m heading in the other direction and eyeing 32 mm tires for everyday use. The tires are indeed heavier due to more casing material and rubber. But that can be mitigated by using TPU tubes. And they are just excellently comfortable. Oh, and the other tire in the pic above is 42 mm wide. It’s like riding on a magic carpet compared to the 23.

But for the occasional ride—especially if I know the roads are of good quality—I’ll rock 23 mm tires for a trip down memory lane.

Do you ever pay attention to the club ride code? No, it’s not some code of conduct á la Velominati (“HTFU”) and no, it’s not like the (Boy) Scouting Code of Conduct where, for example, you promise not to possess any booze, fireworks, or porn. Every Different Spokes ride listing has what amounts to sage advice to the ridelorn, a pocket summary of how difficult or easy a club ride is as rated by the ride leader. A ride listed as 70-4-D is very different than a 25-1-A!

Go The Distance
Each ride has a Distance-Terrain-Pace rating so that you know what you’re getting into, you know, kinda like that hankie thing (“Let’s see, he’s got a blue hankie in his left pocket—ah, he’s into randonneuring!”). In our previous website when you listed a ride you were prompted to enter something for distance, terrain, and pace. Jerome’s template actually didn’t prevent you from entering text such as “sorta short” or “hella long” for Distance. But I don’t ever recall anyone ever doing so—we all thought you had to enter a number. Putting in text would have defeated the purpose of the ride code, which is to transform something subjective into something “objective”—your “short” may be someone else’s “way too long” but everyone understands miles (and maybe even kilometers too). But our current website is more open-ended: we no longer have specific fields for distance, terrain, and pace—you have to remember to include the information when you create a ride listing. In that respect it’s less user friendly even if you can now enter any text you want for Distance. But a number is the most helpful. (But see below.)

Hard Numbers
While the Distance part of the ride code might seem like a fact, it too is sometimes just an estimate (or worse, wild speculation). Prior to the Internet we would use road maps—AAA was a godsend—to estimate the mileage. Do any of you remember map wheels? These were like mini-mechanical cyclometers. (How many of you even remember the first mechanical cyclometers?) A map wheel is a ‘ruler in a wheel’: you rolled the small wheel on the tip of the tool along the route on your map and it measured the distance in inches, which you converted to miles according to the map legend. Sometimes we drove the route to get the mileage or consulted books like Grant Peterson’s Roads to Ride. Estimates on mileage could be anywhere from spot-on to being off by several miles. Ride leaders were encouraged to err on the high side since almost no one liked to do more miles than advertised. The Internet has made estimating route distances a lot easier with tools such as Google Maps, MapMyRide, and RideWithGPS. Using these tools you can hit the mileage spot-on almost all the time.

The ride code presumes a ride has a defined route and a definite distance. But what if you like to do open-ended rides, riding as long as you want (or get forced by circumstance to endure)? You may start a ride with no definite route: you’ll just ride where you feel or as long as you feel. Ride leaders may prefer to talk to whomever shows up on their ride and work out a consensus on the route. Our previous website presumed your ride had a defined length (more accurately, it presumed the ride leader would give it a definite length). The current website is less constraining and you can clearly put down a number or leave it as a text description, eg. “Probably about 60-70 miles depending on how I feel” or “We might go to X, Y, or Z and we’ll decide at the start”, because we no longer have a numeric field for distance; it’s just text embedded in the description of the ride. If you’re the kind of ride leader who likes to meander rather than “follow the dotted line” or your style is more spur-of-the-moment, now you can with a clear conscience post this kind of ride on our website.

Terrain Terror
Things are less clear when it comes to Terrain and Pace. Terrain is rated from one to five, with one being “mostly flat, easy grades, suitable for beginners” and five “many steep hills and climbs, for strong riders”. Including a terrain ranking intuitively makes sense: a ride’s difficulty or ease is correlated not just with length but with how hilly it is. But hilliness has at least three components: the total elevation gain, the steepness or grade of an elevation gain, and where the elevation gains takes place during the ride. Two rides with the same elevation gain can feel quite different if the overall steepness of the climbs is not the same; a steady 5% grade even if longer may feel a lot less stressful than a shorter one with a 13% ramp. Yet If you’ve ridden up Mt. Hamilton, you would likely agree that its relatively tame 5% grade gets wearisome after eighteen miles.

Making matters even more complicated is the nature of the climbs: for example, a ride that has all the elevation gain in one climb often feels less hard than a ride with the same gain split between two climbs. There is just something psychologically challenging about having to do that second climb even though it’s physically no harder than doing it all at once. Going over La Honda to San Gregorio and back is about 1,700 feet each way and it always feels more draining to me than just going up Mt. Diablo, which is quite a bit more. Is it losing your “climbing rhythm” or your body having to get revved up to climb again after the descent? It’s the same amount of calories burned regardless of whether it’s one 3,400-foot climb or two 1,700-foot climbs. Where the vertical gain happens also seems to affect how difficult it feels. A ride with a big climb towards the beginning and a long flat section afterwards feels easier than a ride with the reverse order. That shouldn’t be too surprising since we are often fresher at the beginning than at the end of a ride. In addition the most recent part of an experience tends to color our recollection, so a final climb may make the ride seem harder than it really is.

Even the road quality has a significant impact on the difficulty of a ride. Climbs on dirt or just an uneven surface literally are harder than the exact same grade with smooth pavement. But our ride code doesn’t include that except to indicate whether the ride is road, dirt, or mixed. Yet all of this is folded into just one number for Terrain. The point of the terrain rating is to provide guidance on the level of climbing difficulty for a ride. But a single number has to encompass several variables and so it will never be able to do it justice. Ride leaders may need to explain in detail what riders will confront such as the number and type of steep climbs and where they will occur.

Although there isn’t a requirement to include total elevation gain for a ride listing, tools such as MapMyRide and RideWithGPS routing can generate a close approximation for a known route. Of course if you’ve ridden the route in advance with a cycling computer such as a Garmin, then you already have that number. The total elevation gain in combination with the Terrain rating can provide a good estimate of the overall level of difficulty for a ride.

Pace Posers
If the Terrain rating is vague, consider Pace. Just about every cycling club in theory and practice ends up using a subjective pace rating. For example, what exactly is “moderate” or “touring” pace? It’s really based on one’s perceived exertion. As your conditioning increases what was moderate before feels easy now. (One hopes.) Then try to interpret that across a wide range of cycling ability in a club and you have a virtually meaningless rating. Your “moderate” might be another member’s “easy” or “strenuous”. In an attempt to make the Pace rating more interpretable a Spoker in the distant past thought there should be average speeds for each rating. You probably had no idea there actually were “objective” speeds for each Pace rating, did you? In the previous website it was hidden away; if you just looked at the Ride Calendar you had the Terrain and Pace ratings at the bottom, and for Pace it was just Leisurely-Moderate-Brisk-Strenuous. If perchance you looked at the “About Our Rides” section you would see a hyperlink to Pace and Terrain that took you to the detailed ride key. There you would see, for example, that Leisurely mean an average speed of 5-7 mph and a moving average of 8-10 mph. As helpful as this is to provide objective speeds for different paces, most cyclists have no idea of their typical riding speed, which one presumes is their most comfortable pace. It also presupposes that you have some objective means of measuring your speed, i.e. a cyclometer, and that you pay attention to it.

Grizzly Peak Cyclists has an interesting take on pace. In order to find rides with a pace you can keep, riders are asked to “calibrate” their pace by doing the Three Bears loop at your regular riding pace and then compare your time against a table. For example, if you can do the loop in 1 hr 40 min this is what GPC calls “Touring” pace. Presumably this is also how ride leaders advertise their ride pace, ie. they do the Three Bears to learn their “normal” speed and then use that in their ride listings. I like their attempt to ground the pace ratings in something objective that any rider can then use. But I wonder how many GPC members or ride leaders actually go through the motions to calibrate their pace. My suspicion is that they just show up on a club ride and see how fast the ride is under that specific ride leader and make note; if a ride leader usually lists rides as “moderate” and you can’t keep up, then you know that you shouldn’t attend that ride leader’s rides because they’re too fast for you. So it is with Different Spokes: if you aren’t familiar with a particular ride leader—not that we have so many—you check them out to see if you can keep up or if they lead rides too slow for your taste. Of course, ride leaders also improve or lose their conditioning just as you do. So next month’s “moderate” may feel like “strenuous” or “leisurely” to you. Even with calibration pace rating is still relative and ever changing!

A mitigating factor in pace is group size. A larger group is going to have more variation in ability to keep the pace. So slower/faster riders are likely to have others to ride with and not get left alone regardless of the posted pace. So even if a rider strictly speaking isn’t holding the listed pace, the ride will still be social. The Pace rating is supposed to be the pace that the ride leader(s) plan to follow, not what other riders may choose to do.

And there is nothing to prevent ride leaders from adjusting the pace to match the participants’ wishes. I’ve certainly led B-paced rides where all the participants were capable and preferred a faster pace and we ended up going faster.

Promises, Promises
For ride leaders listing a pace and keeping to it are two different things. Just because a ride leader advertises a “B” pace doesn’t mean it actually turns out that way. In the early days of the club there were frequent admonitions to ride leaders and riders to keep to the advertised pace: ride leaders should lead a ride at the pace they announced and participants should take note of the pace and either adjust to the listed pace or if too strenuous then give that ride a pass. “A” pace riders who showed up at “C” pace rides risked slowing the group either by bringing the average pace down or by inordinate waits at regrouping points. Slower riders typically didn’t have the greatest time because they felt pressured to keep up and may have ridden harder than they liked; the faster riders may have been irked because the ride was supposed to be a “C” ride but ended up being something slower.

A few years ago Roger and I led Social A rides. They weren’t the same as Aaron’s Relaxing Rides but they had the same goal: to offer a club riding opportunity for slower or casual cyclists that also took in a serious dose of yakking. While “animals” may like to ride in a breathless state, this is not conducive to easy conversation. And while you may want to get in your HIIT workout on a club ride, the point of the Social A and the Relaxing Rides was to get some cycling in and enjoy human company rather than get in an anaerobic workout. The Social A rides differed from the Relaxing rides in being “avid cyclist” length rides, about 25-45 miles typically, rather than short city jaunts. What I learned from leading these rides is that it is oh-so-easy to intend to do an A pace and another thing to do it in actuality. Yes, the pace was “slow” and many of the attendees could go faster, and we definitely had riders who took off. I had to actively monitor my cyclometer and force myself to slow down in order to keep to the A. I’m sure it’s the same with B and even C leaders: just because a certain pace is perhaps your most comfortable one that doesn’t mean you can’t go quite a bit faster when you are motivated. Keeping to the advertised pace is sometimes not so easy!

Asking ride hosts to “keep to the listed pace” can be a discouragement. Ride leaders aren’t employees required to do their “job” according to work rules. They’re getting in their weekend fun time too and they want to ride however they ride. If they want to go fast or slow at any moment, why should it be of concern? Well, it does have an impact on the participants, specifically whether they feel welcomed or not and a part of the party. Being dropped and riding alone is probably not what they thought they were getting into.

I must admit that my thinking has evolved over the years. I used to be pretty libertarian: if you came on one of my C or D rides, then I presumed you did a self-evaluation as to whether you could keep up or not. That was your responsibility and not mine. I wasn’t merciless but I also wasn’t concerned if you got discouraged (because I was going either too fast or too slow for you). That was your problem, not mine. I now think about the impact this has on the club as a whole. Riding with others is, whether we realize it or not, a shared task that everyone on the ride engages in. We do have a responsibility to know our abilities but once we’re on the same ride then we’re in it together. For me leading a ride is not about me riding indifferently to those around me—it’s the one time I down-prioritize how I want to ride and put the group first. That’s easy for me to do because I have the luxury of being able to do lots of rides during the week in whatever way I like. So occasionally leading a Different Spokes ride at a preset pace that I don’t feel like doing at that moment is not a big deal.

Crashing The Party
In the early days of the club fast riders frequently showed up on slower rides and slower riders showed up on brisker rides (maybe unwittingly). Part of it was the newness of the club as well as not knowing how to interpret the ride code since it was so vague. Also faster riders would think it wasn’t a problem to show up on a slower ride. That would be true if they indeed kept to the advertised pace. But a couple of things tended to happen. If enough fast riders attended, they were in essence hijacking the ride: seeing them bolt down the road affected the behavior and expectations of the other riders especially if the ride leader tried to keep up with the fast riders—sometimes unconsciously—and the ride ended up being faster. I and a few others would crash slower rides thinking we’d just do the same ride faster and start with the group and maybe have lunch with the group too (if we didn’t get tired of waiting). I don’t think we ever thought how our actions affected everyone else. I don’t ever recall a ride leader reprimanding me for this behavior but they probably should have.

Secondly some people soon got the impression that this was the normal situation, i.e. all our rides were “fast” and all the club members were “fast”! Over the years I’ve heard over and over, “Oh, Different Spokes is for fast riders” when really it was only a small part of the club, the so-called “animals”, who were blazing off the front. In the Bike-A-Thon era this unfair reputation probably did not affect membership because so many in the community wanted to support the club. (We had hundreds of members who never showed up on a ride and just wanted to support the club.) But I wonder if part of the decline in the club post-BAT was partly due to our unfortunate reputation.

Mind The Gap
It also works the other way: slower riders can hijack a ride. It takes a pretty callous ride leader to ignore a group of slower riders who aren’t in a position to say, “Go on, we’ll be fine!”. Perhaps they don’t know the route or it’s their first Different Spokes ride. Our ride leaders are put in a difficult situation when the ride really needs to split into two groups. If the leader stays back, then those who came expecting a certain speed might get turned off. If the leader follows the advertised pace, then the risk is discouraging the slower riders and of them not getting the camaraderie they clearly want. Even if ride leaders discussed this at the beginning, e.g. “Hey everyone, this is a B-pace ride so you should be able to keep a moving average of 10-12 mph”, the reality is that hardly anyone would know what that means. Most of the time you only find out after you’ve started the ride and someone starts to lag behind. Furthermore lots of riders can keep a “C” pace on the flats but then slow down considerably when it’s hilly. Even when they pay attention to the objective pace listing, how are they to figure out how fast they’ll actually be able to ride if they don’t know the terrain? Having led Social A rides, I’ve heard enough stories from A-pace cyclists about attending a Jersey Ride or another club ride and having to race to keep up, usually failing to do so. I suppose if they didn’t understand the ride code one could say it was their own fault. But you can’t really fault them because the ride code is so imprecise, vague, and ignored in practice, and they’re looking for companionship on rides too. It’s just unfortunate we usually don’t have more rides to offer to casual, novice, or slower cyclists.

Even longtime members who should “know better” attend club rides regardless of the listed pace and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s just human nature. Most cyclists ride alone most of the time and we LGBT cyclists get to socialize with our own ilk infrequently. So naturally we’re drawn to any club ride no matter the advertised pace. When the club was bigger we had 130-150 rides per year. But now that we’re quite a bit smaller we have maybe two-thirds as many rides. Although riding together is perhaps the best way to be welcoming, there are other ways to welcome and include all riders when they can’t keep up such as more frequent regrouping, checking in with slower riders, or advising them about other ride possibilities such as the Short & Sassy rides. And perhaps that is what ride leaders need to think about when some riders need to keep to a different pace: the attitude we display rather than the pace itself.

Hostesses With The Mostestest
Despite ride leaders being called “leaders” they actually don’t need to be at the front. Even before cycling computers, RideWithGPS, Komoot, etc. the club encouraged ride leaders to provide paper maps and/or cue sheets. Anyone who could read a map could go as fast or as slow as they preferred and still stay on route. Ride leaders didn’t actually need to “lead” or be at the front at all.

More properly ride leaders should be called ride hosts. David Gaus is a perfect example because he almost always is either in the middle or even at the back rather than the front. As a host he posts the ride, shows up to ride it at the advertised pace, and gives direction when necessary. If there are faster riders he’ll make sure they know where to regroup to wait for the rest. He’ll even ask for a volunteer to lead one of the two groups and he often leads a ride by being the sweep—yes, you can do that! If a ride has more than one leader, then as long as they don’t mind riding at different paces they can accommodate riders who are slower or faster than the listed pace.

Size Matters
When a cycling club is large enough to support enough rides at different paces, riders will usually self-segregate. But when the club is small—as we are—then the sole club ride on a weekend is the only opportunity for Spokers to ride together, so they may come out regardless of the listed pace. Clubs like Western Wheelers or ACTC, which have over a thousand members, have the luxury of offering several rides at different paces, lengths, and terrain types on a typical weekend. In the early days of the club it seemed like there was such hunger for socializing among LGBT cyclists that mixed groups were more the norm. Of course that led to some conflicts. Rides would split up sometimes with unhappy consequences and that led to a steady mantra for ride leaders and riders to “keep to the ride code!” in order to avoid disappointment. The idea was truth in advertising: no one likes to be sold a false bill of goods. Every time a ride deviated from the listing increased skepticism of the ride code.

The smallness of our club combined with trying to reach out to as many riders as possible led to another tendency: rides got listed as B pace no matter how fast they actually were. Why did ride leaders pick B? Besides the vagueness of the ride code I think it was partly modesty, partly wanting to get a good turnout, and perhaps a good dose of social pressure. Lots of people think their normal riding pace is “moderate”. Interestingly without anyone saying anything it became a common understanding that listing B rides was the “Goldilocks” choice: there were usually better attended and the ride wasn’t slow and it wasn’t fast—it was just “right”! Except they often weren’t. They were sometimes C or D pace. I think it was the Den Daddy way back in the day who coined the term “the animals” for the Spokers who liked to ride fast. So if you didn’t ride like a slowpoke and didn’t ride as fast as “the animals”, then you must be in the middle and hence a “B” rider. If you led a B ride and you got a good turnout, guess what pace you’re likely to list your next ride? I recall a club ride listed as a “B” where we were pacelining uphill on Foothill Boulevard in Palo Alto at over 20 miles an hour. That was an eye opener for me.

Swept Away
Although it’s not a formal part of the Ride Code, indicating whether or not you have a sweep or how you’ll manage to keep the group together can make a ride listing more informative and allay concerns in advance. If you don’t have a sweep or your ride is not a no-drop ride, then instead explain generally how you will handle regrouping and waiting for slower riders. At the beginning of the ride the ride leaders can go into detail on where and how often they intend to regroup.

What it ultimately boils down to is that the ride code is merely proffered guidance and there is no hard guarantee that the ride will turn out exactly as the ride host intended (if their intention is even clear). Hopefully no one goes away terribly upset or disillusioned. After a while ride hosts become known quantities and those that continue to attend rides learn with whom they can or prefer to ride. In other words if you know the ride leader, you’ll know how they ride and if you don’t, then you take your chances. Although it certainly helps to provide the most accurate guidance, ride hosts need to remember that it’s ultimately about having a good time, which depends not just on the ride itself but also on the quality of human interaction during the ride. And don’t forget: if you want clarification you can always contact the ride leader! The ride listing is a short summary of their intention and you can always ask them to elaborate.