There is an article in The Canberra Times today about cyclists and coffee shops .It was also reproduced on the Canberra Times Facebook page but was starting to attract the anti-cycling crowd of whom there seems to be evermore of everyday so I quickly reversed and decided not to get involved with the ignorant, narrow minded minnows who were starting to congregate with their useless comments under the article heading. Feedback can be a bitch!
I must say I really can’t understand the trend towards coffee shop gatherings of cyclists. It is a relatively new phenomenon in the progression of our sport and not one I would like to give much encouragement to.
So, with all due respect to any cyclist who may be reading and who enjoys relaxing before, during or after a ride with a brew, my apologies, but it is not my “cup of tea”, if you will pardon the pun.
I can’t say I have ever stopped by a coffee shop during a ride on my bike. I have stopped on the side of the road and eaten and had a cup of tea. I have called into shops when the heat of a summer day has taken it’s toll on a longer ride when I was far from home and needed extra sustenance to finish the day without calling someone to come and get me but I really can’t recall reclining in a cafe waiting with my mates for a latte to arrive.
I am a bit old school when it comes to cycling and not really up with the “hip and with it” crowd. Cycling is after all now known as “the new golf” and the sight of lycra stretched over beer bellies on fellows who would never have known a hard day following wheels in a competitive bike race is all too common nowadays, especially in the cafe’s around Australia where “cycling coffee culture” is king.
You see them everywhere and I feel a bit embarrassed although I have no right to feel that way. Perhaps I am the one who should be ashamed of such feelings.
Recently, Linda and I were having lunch with some friends in Barton, a rather upmarket suburb of Canberra for those not in the know and certainly not a place a blue collar fellow like myself spends a lot of time.
Unfortunately the people we were with are very much in the “anti-cycling” crowd, the type who bang on about cyclists not paying rego and other such arguments, seemingly forgetting or not realising or understanding that cycling has been a huge part of my life and I tend to find such one-sided arguments offensive considering my point of view. I tend to let them rattle on and change the subject whenever cycling comes up as these types are the ones who will never succumb to conciliation or rational argument.
It certainly didn’t help that a peleton of aged cyclists with a treasure trove of equipment which would make the manager of a World Tour team weep if only he had the budget to purchase such gear, were sitting right behind us!
All the latest equipment and stuff I could only dream of owning, thousands of dollars worth of bikes and accessories and men and women lit up like Christmas lights at Myer, some complete with the “Ill Pirata” bandanas, an ode to the late Marco Pantani, the flamboyant 1998 Tour de France winner.
It made me think back to the days when I raced bikes and although I was never the most dedicated racer or trainer when I did get out on the bike on the weekends I was serious about it. A 160km training ride was effort and I was all business on such days and when I was close to home the last thing I felt like doing was rolling into a coffee shop when home is just around the corner and sit for an hour in wet and cold clothes inviting chills and other ailments. It was always a bit embarrassing to me wearing cycling gear in the “civilian” world. There was always someone ready to make a smart remark or a girl to giggle at your clothing which some obviously felt was outlandish. This today is reason for my predilection for wearing t-shirts instead of cycling tops during my summer jaunts on the bike.
Of course I had had it drummed into me from an early age as I frequented professional track carnivals and road races that you don’t sit around in wet clothes! Put a jumper on! Stay warm! Even when it was thirty degrees! Old habits die hard.
I was also one who liked training on my own. I have never been a sociable cat and although a lot of cyclists enjoy training with others and whittling away the hours on the road with idle gossip and chatter, relaying to each other how great they are and other such insensible conversations, I enjoyed the solitude of six or so hours by myself, thinking about my life as the countryside slowly passed me by, almost as if it was a metaphor for my own little world. I certainly wasn’t going to sit around in a cafe by myself after that!
All this proves of course is that cycling culture has changed in the nearly twenty years since I last trained for a road season. More and more people are using cycling as a pastime and although veteran racing is booming there does seem to be many more people purchasing high end racing bikes for nothing more than pretending they are Cadel Evans while never intending to turn a pedal in anger. And good luck to them although somewhere deep down inside where I would usually never let anyone go I do wish they would tone down the garishness of the outfits, at least those who congregate in the new cycling cathedrals, the coffee shops.
It does seem the coffee shop owners are very happy being invaded by armies of cycling fools, often with several groups converging at once although one imagines it may often be to the chagrin of other patrons.
I must say I really can’t understand the trend towards coffee shop gatherings of cyclists. It is a relatively new phenomenon in the progression of our sport and not one I would like to give much encouragement to.
So, with all due respect to any cyclist who may be reading and who enjoys relaxing before, during or after a ride with a brew, my apologies, but it is not my “cup of tea”, if you will pardon the pun.
I can’t say I have ever stopped by a coffee shop during a ride on my bike. I have stopped on the side of the road and eaten and had a cup of tea. I have called into shops when the heat of a summer day has taken it’s toll on a longer ride when I was far from home and needed extra sustenance to finish the day without calling someone to come and get me but I really can’t recall reclining in a cafe waiting with my mates for a latte to arrive.
I am a bit old school when it comes to cycling and not really up with the “hip and with it” crowd. Cycling is after all now known as “the new golf” and the sight of lycra stretched over beer bellies on fellows who would never have known a hard day following wheels in a competitive bike race is all too common nowadays, especially in the cafe’s around Australia where “cycling coffee culture” is king.
You see them everywhere and I feel a bit embarrassed although I have no right to feel that way. Perhaps I am the one who should be ashamed of such feelings.
Recently, Linda and I were having lunch with some friends in Barton, a rather upmarket suburb of Canberra for those not in the know and certainly not a place a blue collar fellow like myself spends a lot of time.
Unfortunately the people we were with are very much in the “anti-cycling” crowd, the type who bang on about cyclists not paying rego and other such arguments, seemingly forgetting or not realising or understanding that cycling has been a huge part of my life and I tend to find such one-sided arguments offensive considering my point of view. I tend to let them rattle on and change the subject whenever cycling comes up as these types are the ones who will never succumb to conciliation or rational argument.
It certainly didn’t help that a peleton of aged cyclists with a treasure trove of equipment which would make the manager of a World Tour team weep if only he had the budget to purchase such gear, were sitting right behind us!
All the latest equipment and stuff I could only dream of owning, thousands of dollars worth of bikes and accessories and men and women lit up like Christmas lights at Myer, some complete with the “Ill Pirata” bandanas, an ode to the late Marco Pantani, the flamboyant 1998 Tour de France winner.
It made me think back to the days when I raced bikes and although I was never the most dedicated racer or trainer when I did get out on the bike on the weekends I was serious about it. A 160km training ride was effort and I was all business on such days and when I was close to home the last thing I felt like doing was rolling into a coffee shop when home is just around the corner and sit for an hour in wet and cold clothes inviting chills and other ailments. It was always a bit embarrassing to me wearing cycling gear in the “civilian” world. There was always someone ready to make a smart remark or a girl to giggle at your clothing which some obviously felt was outlandish. This today is reason for my predilection for wearing t-shirts instead of cycling tops during my summer jaunts on the bike.
Of course I had had it drummed into me from an early age as I frequented professional track carnivals and road races that you don’t sit around in wet clothes! Put a jumper on! Stay warm! Even when it was thirty degrees! Old habits die hard.
I was also one who liked training on my own. I have never been a sociable cat and although a lot of cyclists enjoy training with others and whittling away the hours on the road with idle gossip and chatter, relaying to each other how great they are and other such insensible conversations, I enjoyed the solitude of six or so hours by myself, thinking about my life as the countryside slowly passed me by, almost as if it was a metaphor for my own little world. I certainly wasn’t going to sit around in a cafe by myself after that!
All this proves of course is that cycling culture has changed in the nearly twenty years since I last trained for a road season. More and more people are using cycling as a pastime and although veteran racing is booming there does seem to be many more people purchasing high end racing bikes for nothing more than pretending they are Cadel Evans while never intending to turn a pedal in anger. And good luck to them although somewhere deep down inside where I would usually never let anyone go I do wish they would tone down the garishness of the outfits, at least those who congregate in the new cycling cathedrals, the coffee shops.
It does seem the coffee shop owners are very happy being invaded by armies of cycling fools, often with several groups converging at once although one imagines it may often be to the chagrin of other patrons.
And to all those who are going out riding today and plan to stop for a brew at the local cafe, just ignore my comments. A cynical old pro is showing showing his bias.Go out and have your fun,and who knows, should I ever rouse myself and end my self imposed cycling isolation, should I come across you I may even by you a coffee. Wouldn’t that be a turn up for the books?
Have a nice day.
Strange Notations From a Laborious Life 