Cycling in Vancouver is a challenge.
I’m used to fairly well paved roads. Shoulders without gravel.
It was just after 8am. Vancouver was still asleep.
The goal. A three-hour minimum training ride. Easy rolling. I figured Richmond.
It was great beating the Starbucks brunch traffic on SE Marine Drive. A few dog walkers. The odd trail runner.
Till the packs started piling up on my tail.
No warning. ZOOM!
Whoopee I thought. Miss that pace line pooper pack ride. So I jumped on. Quickly realizing leaving the scratched clear lensed Ryders glasses at home was a bad idea.
Rocked it till the gravel spray started spewing then I called it.
Fenders or not, crap gets flung.
You've got to be on. Tiny potholes abound.
There was an A and a B. I watched where they went since this was my first ride of this route.
The next group I came up on were clearly inexperienced pack riders. No warnings, stopping suddenly.
I waited till I saw an opening of traffic and railed it past them.
Only to get cooked booking it up a hill. Thankfully to a red light.
Then they turned right. Drat. I was taking the wrong route.
We got hung up again but not until my way home
I discovered Iona Beach on Sea Island. Pretty cool.
Packs and packs of movers out there.
Only one person said hi.
Remember my brother saying that about runners. Nobody smiles. They’re clearly suffering, or not.
In most cases I realized after, when you’re in a pack you’ve got to pay attention to the wheel in front of you and most importantly, to the ruts in the road. Especially in Vancouver.
To keep it going.