Cycling - The Racing Post

Cycle Logic - It Takes a Pace Line

By Diana North

If it takes a village to raise a child, then it’s time to admit it takes a pace line to make a road cyclist. I say this only because I know it’s true. Anyone can ride a bike alone. But it takes a certain blend of courage and craziness to ride a bike in a jostling, sweaty clump of bike-pedaling human bodies.

Like all cyclists, I had to start somewhere in my transition from solo bike rider to group riding roadie. And since I came to it somewhat later in life—I feel qualified to opine on why pace lines are so important in the development of a cyclist. There are so many lessons about cycling, and life, to be learned there.

First of all, the pace line instills periodic fear. Fear is important. Like every child tottering on training wheels knows, hitting the ground hurts. Therefore, fear of hitting the ground should be encouraged. In the pace line the actions of each individual affect the whole group, therefore other members of that group will be quick to remind you when you’re acting like a brat.

At the same time the pace line is a kind of cocoon—the pea pod casement for the individual peas inside. In it, you are just another colorful rolling veggie amongst the acorn squashes and watermelons of traffic. Surrounded by your colorful herd, motorists have a harder time singling you out as the lone irritant between them and where they want to go.

Plus, it’s harder for motorists to suggest that a whole pack of cyclists ride on the sidewalk. It’s even less advisable to yell that curse-word-laced suggestion to a group of sweaty riders who’ve been suffering in the heat for two hours and that, together, just might be tempted, and able, to kick your ass.

Sometimes the pace line is about survival of the fittest within the group. Not the slimmest or the biggest. Not the richest. Not even the quickest looking, most expensive bike or rider with the coolest kit. No, the fittest can be anyone. All you know when you’re starting out is that the fittest probably isn’t you. The upside is that once you reach the survival level where you can’t be voted out of the pace line—it’s your duty to dole out the lesson to others.

There are times when the pace line is like the movie “Mean Girls” on wheels. Your feelings are going to get hurt. And they should. Feelings get in the way of mental and physical toughness. Most of us learned as children that if you don’t toughen up, life will surely find the “kick me” sign on your backside. If your mommy coddled you as a child, a pace line is the best place to undo the damage.

Ideally a pace line is a working example of proper cycling etiquette. Through observation and emulation, there is hope that a common bike rider will discover not only their penchant for pain, but also how to hold a line, proper drafting techniques and signaling. Communication in cycling, like in life, is important. And there’s nowhere better to learn that lesson than among people who are quick to correct you when you’re wrong.

And you might as well forget about the politically correct “everyone is equal” approach in a pack. You can either hang on when the miles add up or pace gets hot, or you can’t. Excuses notwithstanding, that’s the black and white of it. Your mommy won’t be there to kiss it and make it better. So if you get dropped, it’s up to you to work harder next time, because let’s face it, when you finally get to do the dropping, you won’t be sending anyone sympathy cards afterward.

You’ll be passing along your used “kick me” sign instead.