No matter how busy it is at work on Tuesdays, I close my laptop by 5:20 p.m. That gives me time to ride home, stuff a snack in my mouth, rummage around the house for the sundry items required to complete an hour-and-a-half-long mountain bike ride (and run up and down the stairs a couple times to gather forgotten pieces of gear—dammit, my gloves again!), and make it to the bike shop, South Mountain Cycle & Cafe in Emmaus, Pennsylvania, by 6 p.m. That’s when the shop ride leaves.
The group varies in size from the handful of regulars to more than 20 riders on mild, sunny summer nights. After we ride the trail network in town—a loose stack of rocky loops that can be combined into an impressive number of variations—we head to Armetta’s, the local pizza restaurant. The bartender knows many of our names. We sit at the bar, recap the ride, dream up bigger weekend adventures.
The shop ride is pretty terrible for training. The pace is either “full gas” or “stand around in the woods getting bitten by mosquitoes.” We do a lot of waiting—for people to catch up, or fix mechanicals. We cover an unremarkable number of miles. The amount of time spent riding is roughly equal to the time spent hanging out and drinking beer.
But even when I am “training,” I carve out time for the shop ride. Because no matter what I was turning over in my head when I left the office—some offhand comment from a coworker, or a project that’s particularly vexing—I roll home at the end of the night in a buzzed, endorphin-fueled afterglow. The shop ride does nothing for my fitness. It’s a salve for my soul.
When we cyclists create a standing date to ride with others in the middle of the workweek, some kind of alchemy gives the time a sacred character. The ride becomes ritual.
Bikes (and Riders) of the South Mountain Cycles Shop Ride
Trek Slash
What: 150mm-travel 29er built for enduro.
Who: Bob Brien. South Mountain's full-time mechanic. Hangs back and coaches slower riders, diagnoses trailside mechanicals.
Evil Calling
What: 130mm-travel, do it all trail surfer.
Who: Chad Balliet. Owner of South Mountain Cycle & Cafe, can always be counted on to crack jokes from the back.
Liv Pique
What: 120mm-travel 27.5 women's XC/trail bike.
Who: Hattie Freye. Likes to keep moving, has no qualms about pedaling off in the middle of a trailside bullshitting session.
Giant Anthem
What: Crazy-light, 90mm-travel 29er.
Who: Rob Bekesy. Happy-go-lucky XC racer, uphill pace pusher, stoked as long as he's pedaling.
YT Capra
What: 160mm-travel 29er enduro bike.
Who: Rob Fatz. Would rather be riding a chairlift, downhill pace pusher.
Evil Calling
What: 130mm-travel, do-it-all trail surfer.
Who: Eric Martino. Hadn’t ridden for 13 years before the shop ride, now crushes all the rock gardens.
I asked my social media network to tell me about what makes a standing weeknight group ride so special. Several people said the time is therapeutic, gives them a reason to look forward to what would otherwise be any other weekday. “The stress of work and life disintegrates in unison as the pedaling starts,” says Erin Lamb, from Santa Barbara, who does a Monday night mountain bike group ride that meets at a church in the foothills and starts at 6 p.m. sharp with the bells. “I wake up feeling great and ready to tackle the next day with tired legs and good memories.”
And while any weekday ride offers an escape from the hectic or the mundane, even science says that effect is amplified when we ride with friends. Research has shown that shared experiences (both positive and negative) are more intense than solo ones, and that participants who exercise in groups report feeling calmer and happier afterward than those who exercise alone.
There’s at least as much magic as science on our shop ride. Several riders have progressed from beginners to very skilled mountain bikers simply by showing up regularly. Riding together week after week, we got to know each other's styles, strengths, and eccentricities. We built up a gestalt of inside jokes and anecdotes from rides past that eventually formed the foundation of very real friendships—ones that went beyond the trail. Finally, as much as the group ride shaped us, we also shaped the ride: Every regular came to inhabit a role, whether as a leader, pace pusher, the comic relief, or the friendly face who welcomes the newbies. The weekly group ride taps into one of cycling’s greatest rewards: It gives us a place to belong.
I don’t have a lot of Tuesdays left. I’m moving across the country to Colorado (where one of my first goals is to find a new group ride). I have no idea how many shop rides I’ve done. Most of them blend into one warm, dreamy amalgamation of a memory, even if I know for a fact the nights were not always the same. There were the rides we’d spend 15 minutes watching someone fix a flat, when we couldn’t seem to cover more than one section of trail without stopping; and nights when we’d fly through the woods in sync, and everything was a green blur. Either way, the nights always ended the same way—as people left the bar, they’d high-five their way out the door and say the same thing: “Good ride, guys.” It was always a good ride.
[Find 52 weeks of tips and motivation, with space to fill in your mileage and favorite routes, with the Bicycling Training Journal.]
Want to find a good weekly group ride? Look for these five key characteristics.
Standing Day and Time: Being able to block off a time slot is key to harvesting regulars—and the magic.
A Faithful Leader: People need to know that if they show up, there will be someone to ride with.
A Hard Start: Because after you’ve rushed out of the office to make the ride, nothing is more irritating than waiting around for laggers.
Rain or Shine Policy: Consistency promotes continuity—plus riding in crappy weather makes for good stories.
Post-Ride Refreshments: They seal in the good vibes.
