Because Bikes: Trust

Cycling has taught me about trust in a way nothing else has. That is, cycling taught me to trust, what real trust is. I’m thinking in particular about riding in a peloton and what it takes to follow another rider’s wheel, with my front wheel less than a foot from the rider’s in front of me, of being encased in a group, surrounded by other riders in such close quarters that I couldn’t move, except to keep pedaling and maintain the tiny buffer between mayhem and me.

There’s a compartmentalization aspect to it. When I first started riding in a peloton, not just a paceline, there was a moment that was so terrifying, I felt my stomach go weak. We were going so fast and I couldn’t see what the road was doing. All I could do was watch the riders ahead and if I saw them lean left, I leaned, too. 

I learned that the more predictable a rider was, the more I could trust them. Once I felt like I knew what they’d do in a turn or a crosswind, I could follow them close enough to grab their pocket. I also learned that some riders provide to be unpredictable, that I couldn’t anticipate what they might do in a turn or on a descent. 

I didn’t really appreciate just how much I had come to trust many of the riders I saw multiple times each week until I noticed that every time I needed a recommendation for a doctor, an auto repair place or a freelancer, I went to my cycling community. I figured if I could follow someone that closely and remain in harmony with their chosen line, then I could trust their suggestions. I didn’t realize I was doing this, not consciously, not at first, but there came a point when I realized that the people I turned to were the riders I was most comfortable being in really close quarters. 

On occasion, someone did something unpredictable, something that didn’t make sense within the confines of the peloton. They broke trust. I can’t tell you how I managed to develop trust after that, but with some I did, and some I didn’t. I can tell you, if you crash in front of me twice, I won’t ride on your wheel again. 

But what about when someone doesn’t trust other riders? You can see them sitting off to the side of the group, sometimes just a foot or two to the left or right of the rider in front of them, and what I find notable about that is how the rider who couldn’t trust the group won’t be afforded any trust. In that, I find the greatest truth about trust. You have to display it to receive it. And that leaves us vulnerable. It leaves us vulnerable to crashes, to having our hearts broken. But that’s the trade—to experience trust, we have to make ourselves vulnerable, which is why when someone breaks our trust we’re so hurt. 

But we do heal.