In the 45 or so years I’ve been riding bikes, I’ve ridden a hell of a lot more than some people and a hell of a lot less than some others. I’ve been writing about bikes for nigh on 20 years and tapped out something like two million words on the subject during that time. If I was going to make a case for having some expertise in one area of my life, this would be it.
But I’m not.
What seems to be true is that the further you get into subject the more it opens up into an infinity of information, variables, experiences and for better or worse, opinions. I am the child of a know-it-all, raised to avow expertise even as almost none existed. At some point, fortunately, I let go of that though. I don’t know a lot, and I like to say, “I don’t know,” because it’s freeing and leaves you open to new information and new ideas, which tend to be good.
The other day a friend disagreed with me about a thing. He had a different experience and a different opinion. And I have to tell you I found it tremendously heartening. Here is/was a person willing to credit his own experience, confident enough to say, “Not for me, Clive.“
I get asked a lot of bike related questions. What tire pressure should I be riding? What bike should I buy? What do you think about x, y, and/or z? My answers normally come in two forms. The first is a simple “I dunno,” because I’m not them. I don’t know what they like, what they’re comfortable with, what they’re trying to accomplish. The second form is usually something like, “I’m not sure it matters,” by which I mean, you’re going to make a choice, and by making that choice you’re going to be invested in the success of it, and you’re probably going to like it or get used to it, or at the very least learn better what you do and don’t like.
I envy the folks who can write authoritative product reviews. They believe in themselves and their experience on a level I just don’t believe in my own. When I write a review, it’s only ever for a product that works for me, that I like, but honestly, there are so many variables from body type/shape to experience, needs, etc. Maybe you’re like me. But maybe you’re much more like you.
One of the reasons I have enjoyed working in the custom bike world so much is that the essence of a custom bike is the essence of the person who’s going to ride it. The ability to articulate what you want out of a new bike before it’s built solves many, if not all, of these misgivings I have about recommending anything to anyone.
Frequent readers and listeners will have become thoroughly bored by now with my constant exhortations to go to your local bike shop to see, feel, test bikes, clothing, etc. It’s true that I’m deeply biased toward small business, that I’m passionately dedicated to keeping independent bike shops in as many towns as possible, because I think they make towns and riding communities better, and it’s also true that I have a bunch of good friends who own the aforementioned businesses, BUT honest to whatever god you worship, no one knows you better than you. No one will be a better judge of what works for you. You’re quite literally the expert in you. If you buy on-line or simply take someone else’s word (even mine), you’re leaving out the most important expert available to you.
As a writer, I’m here in this chair everyday hurling words into the void, hoping to connect with kindred souls. My success with this perhaps poorly conceived project depends entirely on expressing things you can identify with. Every day I’m testing my hypotheses, and hopefully you’re telling me when I’m right and when I’m wrong, because there’s no other way for us to connect. And together we lurch our way forward into the future, hopefully having a little more fun for having shared this space and read each other’s notes on the subject of riding bikes.
The term ‘impostor syndrome’ is having a real moment. It’s tempting to say everything I’ve written above is just some expression of this phenomenon, this feeling like a fraud, but I don’t think so. I know a lot. I’ve done a lot. I might even know more than some of you. I am probably what passes for an expert, in practical terms, but what I don’t know is much more than what I do. Even Einstein, who dragged humanity forward by leaps and bounds in our understanding of how the universe works would have told you that what he knew was less than what there still was to know. And I’m no Einstein.
“I am probably what passes for an expert, in practical terms, but what I don’t know is much more than what I do. ”
My Ph.D. advisor said that the more you study a subject, the more you realize that there is a whole lot you don’t know because intensive study forces you down all the rabbit holes. I imagine bicycling is no different.