The Old Guy Bicycle Blog

After surviving one of the wettest, coldest, most miserable 100-mile rides of my life at the Ride for the Roses, I returned to my job as a 6th-grade geography teacher — tired, sore, and a little proud. Naturally, the students were curious. “How’d you do?” one asked. Without missing a beat, I said, “I beat Lance Armstrong.” That’s when a spunky girl in the back — the kind every teacher remembers — shot back: “Prove it.” Now, keep in mind, this was the early 2000s. You couldn’t just whip up an AI photo or use Photoshop on your phone. But I had an idea. A friend of mine had taken a picture of Armstrong early in the ride. I also had a photo of myself crossing the finish line. So I got to work. I merged the two images, aligning them just right so that it looked like I was beating Lance Armstrong by about a foot. I had the picture printed and framed. Then I hung it in my classroom — right next to the map of Europe I used for teaching about the Tour de France. Most of the kids could tell it w...

The Day I Rode with Robin Williams (Sort Of) I once rode in the Ride for the Roses in Austin, Texas, on October 26, 2003. I’ll never forget what a gorgeous day it was the day before the ride when I picked up my registration materials. The sun was shining, the air was calm, and it felt like perfect cycling weather. But the next morning told a different story. It was cold, windy, and overcast. The ride was supposed to start at 8:00 AM, but we all stood shivering in our gear, waiting. Why? Because Lance Armstrong was the special guest, and the crowd wasn’t moving until he showed up. This was a Livestrong event, and at the time, Lance was the greatest cyclist in the world. He had won his 5th straight Tour de France that year. People were excited to see him — but not so excited about waiting in the cold. Finally, about 30 minutes late, Armstrong arrived and the ride began. A full 100 miles lay ahead, and the weather was already miserable. Around 20 miles in, I was pedaling st...

More Than 50 Years on the Bike — And This Still Hasn’t Changed I’ve been cycling American roads for over five decades — from the flatlands of Lubbock, Texas to the brutal climbs near San Diego. And despite all the improvements in gear, roads, and technology, one thing still hasn’t changed enough: Many drivers still don’t know how to safely share the road with cyclists. But here’s the thing — it’s often not due to hostility or impatience. A lot of it comes down to a simple lack of knowledge. Most drivers have never been taught how to interact safely with cyclists. They don’t understand how much space a cyclist needs to stay upright. They don’t realize how a car’s wind draft can destabilize a rider. And they often misinterpret a cyclist swerving as careless, when in reality, we may be dodging potholes, debris, or unexpected crosswinds. Driver’s Education Is Failing Cyclists Young drivers are taught how to parallel park and merge onto freeways. But few are ever taught how to share...

There’s a lot of noise out there right now. Political fights. Social media arguments. Endless headlines about what’s wrong with the world and who’s to blame. It’s easy to get caught up in it—and I’ll admit, sometimes I do. But I’ve found a way to quiet it all. I get on my bike. When I ride, I’m not thinking about the latest outrage or who said what on the news. I’m thinking about my breathing, the next curve in the road, how the sun feels on my back, or whether that hill up ahead is going to burn my legs. The noise fades. The world slows down. And for a while, I remember what really matters. Riding gives me perspective. It reminds me that most of what we’re arguing about isn’t nearly as important as we think it is—not in the grand scheme of things. The birds don’t care about politics. The road doesn’t ask how I voted. The wind doesn’t play favorites. When I’m riding, I get to just be . And that’s a rare gift in today’s world. I remember a ride back in 2016 that really brought this h...

When Everything Felt Perfect on the Bike Some days on the bike surprise you — not because of what goes wrong, but because of how right everything feels. That’s how it started for me on June 1st in San Diego. I had trained for a full year, preparing for what was meant to be the final leg of my long-distance cycling tour across the United States. I’d already ridden from Las Cruces, New Mexico to Lubbock, then all the way to Florida. All that remained was the west: San Diego to Las Cruces. Over 6,500 miles of training — much of it on Texas roads — had prepared me for this. I focused hard on climbing, knowing the first two days of the ride would be steep. When I rolled out of San Diego that afternoon, I felt stronger than I could’ve hoped. The hills didn’t intimidate me. My legs had power. My breathing was steady. I felt ready — not just physically, but mentally. So ready, in fact, that I pushed beyond the plan. Day 1 was supposed to end before the toughest climb. Instead, I decided t...