The Old Guy Bicycle Blog

Quick Answer: The right cycling gear makes every mile safer and more comfortable. Start with a helmet, padded shorts, gloves, hydration, lights, and a flat repair kit. My most important piece of gear? Always the helmet. Essential Cycling Gear: What Every Rider Really Needs Whether you're just starting your cycling journey or have thousands of miles under your tires, one truth becomes clear pretty quickly: the right gear makes a difference . I’ve tested, broken, lost, replaced, and fine-tuned just about every piece of cycling gear imaginable. While there are plenty of nice-to-haves, a few items are in the must-have category for any rider—especially those logging long distances or training for events. 🚴‍♂️ 1. Helmet (Non-Negotiable) This is the one item I’ll never ride without. Accidents happen. Cars pull out, dogs chase, debris causes crashes. A helmet has saved me from serious injury more than once. Don’t ride without one. My Pick: Giro Fixture MIPS II Helmet ✅ Light...

Last Updated: September 5, 2025 Quick Answer: When you’re touring with a bicycle and trailer, strangers will ask you questions—lots of them. “Where are you going?” “Why are you doing this?” and the classic “Are you crazy?” These conversations aren’t annoyances—they’re part of the magic of bike touring. 11 Common Questions People Ask Bicycle Tourers (And My Answers) That question is the single most asked question I get asked when I meet people while I am touring That’s touring life in a nutshell. Hauling a trailer into small towns, you’re going to attract questions. Honestly? I welcome it. Some of my favorite touring memories come from these conversations at truck stops, diners, and roadside stores. Here are the most common questions—and my honest answers. 1. “Where are you going?” Usually the opener. People see the bags and know I’m not out for a neighborhood loop. 2. “Where are you from?” When I say Lubbock, Texas, I usually get raised eyebrows—sometimes a Patrick M...

I was on a bike tour from Lubbock, Texas to Albuquerque, New Mexico, and on this particular day, I was riding from Clovis to Fort Sumner — about 65 miles, short but needed after 100 the day before. The ride itself wasn’t anything dramatic. Not a lot of scenery yet — that stretch of New Mexico is beautiful in its own way, but it hadn’t really opened up yet. It was long, hot, and mostly quiet. I was probably about 7 miles outside of Fort Sumner. The finish line was in sight — not literally, but close enough to start thinking about cold drinks and a motel bed. I was riding the shoulder, like I always do. Cars passed by now and then, same as usual — nothing too close, nothing unusual. Until one of them did. I heard a loud pop. Not just tire noise — this was sharp. Sudden. Serious. I looked up and saw the car that had just passed me beginning to slow down. It pulled over onto the side of the road, maybe 50 yards up. I rolled toward it, cautious at first, but then I saw her...

Back in May 2024 , I briefly mentioned one of the scariest moments I’ve had while riding. You can read that post here:   👉   Even Cyclists Have Bad Days But today I want to tell the full story. 🐍 Life in Snake Country I lived in Carlsbad, New Mexico from 1989 to 2006 — about 17 years. We were out in the country, roughly 5 miles outside of town. And if you’ve never lived in the desert, let me tell you: it belongs to the snakes. We had snakes come right up to the house. Some were harmless, the kind you leave alone because they eat the mice and keep the real pests in check. But others — like the Western Diamondback Rattlesnake — were not welcome. Those snakes were venomous, aggressive, and dangerous. They killed two of our outdoor cats. One of them even killed our Jack Russell Terrier, Zack — who was only trying to protect our backyard, where our 3-year-old son Nicholas liked to play. Zack died the next day from the bite. That moment has stuck with me ever since. I don’...

Some rides don’t test your legs — they test your heart. In 2016, I was cycling across the country from Lubbock to Florida. I had already put in long, hot, humid days through Texas and Louisiana, and I was somewhere in the middle of central Louisiana on a road that felt like it might never end. From the start of that day, something felt off. My legs were dead. And when your legs go, everything else starts to follow. My neck ached. My shoulders were tight. My spirit was worse. I was days into the tour and starting to feel completely isolated. Even on my worst rides, I usually know I have the physical ability to grind through — but this time, doubt started creeping into my head. The kind of doubt that whispers, “Maybe you don’t have it today.” I had about 60 miles left to ride. I pulled into a convenience store to refill my bottles, mentally counting down how far I had to go — and not liking the number. That’s when I met them. Two large young men — I mean big guys, built like NFL linebac...

There are days on the bike that test your legs. Others that test your lungs. And then there are days that test your survival instincts. One of those days came for me on a tour from the Texas-Oklahoma border to South Padre Island—a ride that turned into a battle against the elements, specifically the relentless South Texas heat. The day I’ll never forget was the ride from Kingsville to Raymondville. It started off hot and only got hotter. Riviera, a tiny speck of a town 20 miles outside Kingsville, was my last chance for supplies before the 60-mile haul across a scorched and treeless stretch of land. The forecast was already flirting with 110 degrees when I rolled into the gas station. I loaded up—water bottles in both cages, extras stuffed into my trailer and even tucked into my jersey pockets. I knew this stretch was going to hurt. And I was right. About 20 miles from Raymondville, I glanced at my cycling computer: 113 degrees . The sun wasn’t just bearing down—it felt like it was ...

Derailleur destruction caused by a rag sucked into the drivetrain—proof that even a tiny oversight can bring down thousands of miles of planning. I trained for a year—twelve solid months of sweat, hills, and heart—for one ride that I hoped would complete my dream of cycling across the United States. I had already pedaled from Las Cruces to Lubbock and from there to Florida. All that remained was the western stretch: San Diego to Las Cruces . This tour was meant to be the final chapter of a journey years in the making. I didn’t take the challenge lightly. I logged over 6,500 miles in training , with a heavy focus on hill work, knowing the first two days would demand everything my legs had. Physically, I was ready. Mentally, I was locked in. Spiritually? Unshakable. The Start of the Tour: Strong, Steady, and Full of Purpose I drove the 1,100 miles to San Diego with anticipation and purpose. I rolled out on June 1st , feeling confident and free. In fact, I felt so good that I pushed b...

Last updated: August 24, 2025 Senior Long Distance Cycling: Wind in Your Hair, Wisdom in Your Legs Quick Answer: Yes—seniors can thrive on long rides by prioritizing endurance, comfort, recovery, and safety. Gear like a smart scale , a quality MIPS helmet , and a reliable mini pump helps keep rides safer and more enjoyable. Note: This article includes affiliate links. If you purchase through them, I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. Cycling is a fantastic activity at any age, and senior cyclists are becoming a powerful and passionate force on the road. The open air, steady motion, and sense of accomplishment all contribute to a healthier, happier life. But let’s face it—our bodies change with time. That doesn’t mean giving up long-distance cycling—it just means adjusting how we ride. Listen to Your Body Recovery takes longer as we age. Build in real rest and use simple tools that help you bounce back: a foam roller , a massage gun ...

🚴 Real Stories from the Road: A broken spoke in the middle of nowhere could’ve ended my ride on Day Two. But two things saved the tour—and they might save yours too. Two Things You Absolutely Need on a Long-Distance Bicycle Tour In 2016, I was riding solo from Lubbock , Texas to Pensacola, Florida. I was only ten miles into what was supposed to be an 80-mile day when—*snap*—I broke a spoke. No towns. No traffic. No other cyclists. Just me, a quiet road, and a disabled bike. But I didn’t panic. I had the tools, the spare spoke, and just enough know-how to get back on the road. That moment could’ve been the end of my tour, but instead, it became one of those stories you never forget. Here’s what that experience taught me: there are two things every long-distance cyclist needs—no matter your fitness level, gear, or route. 🔧 1. Basic Bicycle Repair Knowledge Even seasoned cyclists run into mechanical trouble on tour. It usually happens when you’re 40 miles fr...

Updated August 3, 2025 Thinking about going tubeless for your touring bike? Here’s what I’ve learned after thousands of miles — the good, the bad, and the gear I trust to make it work. By Bruce | The Old Guy Bicycle Blog As an avid cyclist who’s been touring for many years, I’ve experimented with just about every piece of gear you can imagine.  These are the bib shorts I trust now —comfortable enough for 60+ mile days and built to last.  But few changes have had a bigger impact on my riding experience than switching to tubeless tires. 🛞 Fewer Flats, More Fun Since switching to tubeless tires, the number of flats I’ve had has dropped dramatically. I used to carry multiple spare tubes and a patch kit everywhere I went—now I rarely worry about punctures at all. The sealant inside tubeless tires works quickly to plug small holes as they happen, which has saved me from countless roadside repairs and kept my rides rolling. I use Stan’s NoTubes Tire Sealant and have for ye...

  When it comes to cycling, I’ll gladly admit it: I prefer to ride alone. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy the camaraderie of group rides now and then. There’s something special about shared miles and friendly conversations along the way. But for me, the real magic happens when it’s just me, my bike, and the open road. Solo rides offer a kind of freedom and clarity that I rarely find anywhere else. Freedom and Flexibility One of the biggest benefits of riding solo is total control. I ride at my own pace. I stop when I want to take a picture or catch my breath. I change my route on a whim. There’s no pressure to keep up with a group or slow down for others. It’s my ride, my rhythm. Fully Immersed in the Experience Riding alone allows me to truly immerse myself in the experience. I hear the hum of the tires on the road, feel the wind on my face, and see every detail of the passing landscape. Without the chatter of a group, there’s room to think—or not think at all. It’s meditation o...

  As an avid cyclist, I’ve discovered that one of the greatest freedoms on two wheels is the ability to choose your own path — literally and figuratively. For me, that often means riding solo. There’s something deeply satisfying about setting your own pace, stopping when you want, and soaking in the scenery without distraction. One of my most memorable solo rides was in New Mexico, 45 miles from the nearest town. Just me, my bike, and the road — total solitude, total peace. That’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed group rides. Over the years, I’ve joined a few organized tours and met some fantastic people. Swapping stories, laughing through tough climbs, and offering encouragement during hard miles — the social side of cycling can be just as rewarding. But I’ve also experienced the downside: overly competitive groups where someone always tries to prove something. That kind of energy isn’t for me. The beauty of cycling is this: you don’t have to choose one forever. You can be a lone w...