Post 103 - Group riding

I’m not a regular group rider. I do most of my bike training on the turbo trainer, and very occasionally go out around Kent or Northern Ireland by myself or with one other. Drafting or slipstreaming is banned in triathlon races so I don’t have a lot of experience with riding in a tightly-packed bunch. Saying this, I watch a lot of cycling, and would like to think I’m a fairly considerate person, so I thought group riding would come easily. Recently I did my first serious group ride, in a group of 4, all of whom are good, strong cyclists, and with the exception of myself, all of whom ride in groups regularly.

Group riding in a tightly-packed peloton.
No view of the road ahead, travelling at 30mph, need trust in people ahead.
One wrong move, one twitch, one overlapped wheel and everyone goes down...

The first thing I learned is that it’s very easy to look like, or come across as, a complete plonker. It’s somewhat hair-raising to be zooming along a country road at 26mph with 3 others in very close proximity, with only a view of someone’s arse right over your front wheel, the arse blocking the view of the road ahead, while literally rubbing elbows with someone beside you at the same time. All while trying to avoid stones, grit, twigs, branches, and general crap on the road, while trying to maintain a constant speed and a distance of, well, less than 6 inches to the wheel in front. Trying to maintain your exact line on the road, even if you have a guy right beside you. As in, his shoulder is one inch from your shoulder. And trying not to p!ss the group off. One guy in the group was an ex-elite continental European racer. "Le boss". And me, a clueless triathlete...

Different hand signals need to be learned and understood to warn of aforementioned general road crap, road furniture, cars, obstructions, signs to indicate to come through and take the lead, to drop back, to slow down, to speed up. Cycling sign language. It’s a language I don’t yet understand and can’t yet use. Don’t surge, ride at the pace of the group, take turns on the front, don’t deviate, don’t cross wheels, don’t attack. Warn of obstructions in the road, or potholes, or anything that could cause a crash. Don't crash. Don’t blast off up a hill as if you have something to prove. Fortunately I was in a sympathetic group who tried to keep me right.

When it goes wrong... a chain reaction domino effect.
No time to react, down everyone goes. Not nice.

What if I need to stop and pee? Is there a hand signal for this? My imagination ran riot. Do I wiggle my finger at the group? No, I’ll look like I’m telling them off. Do I wiggle my finger at the ground in view of everyone? No, I’ll look like I’m telling off the road. Do I point? No, they’ll think I’ve got problems. Do I say “excuse me, may I go to the toilet please?” No, this isn’t school. Do I just stop and catch up? No, I don’t know the roads and they’ll think I’m lost. Do I just go, on the go? No, I’ll spray someone and we’ll all be wet and manky. Do I just hold on for dear life? No, my bladder will burst. Do I stop drinking and hope for the best? No, then I’ll get dehydrated and run out of energy. Is there some coded shout I can give to the group? Why does no-one else need to stop and go?! What if I needed more than a pee?

In the end, I decided to sprint up a hill ahead of everyone, jump into the trees, do the business, and jump back on the bike. The group caught me up as I was looking a little bit pleased with myself and a little bit relieved, and the group probably thought “what a show off. Plonker!” No wonder roadies don’t like triathletes, as generally triathletes are terrible at riding in a tight group and haven’t got a clue about the intricacies and unwritten rules of close-quarter riding.

For a few miles on the way back, we got into a fairly effective pace line, all taking very short turns on the front and then dropping to the back before ending up on the front again. The turns on the front were so short. As the road narrowed and went down an incline, it was all getting a bit nervous so I was very relieved when one of the group go a flat tyre. And that was the end of the group’s pace line as we just cruised back.  It was good fun, in a kind of not-fun sort of way… I guess I’ll learn…

Says it all really...