People’s summers are usually denoted by the months or particular days. Memorial Day and Labor Day seem most common in addition to the Summer Solstice.
My summer timeline is indicated by cycling events.
“Summer heads up” are the five Monument races. These are the oldest, hardest, longest, and most prestigious one-day events in men’s road cycling. Each of the races are at least 100 years old, with one being 130 years old. The distances are between 240 and 300 km, or between 148 and 186 miles.
Each year, I enter my “summer is around the corner” phase. This is where I finally get to ride outside, at least occasionally. Having spent the cold months on one of my bikes hooked to a trainer in my basement, that first breath of fresh air while pedaling is a joy.
While it may not be my preferred method, indoor riding has a few advantages: no cars or bone-jarring Michigan roads, a stable environment of 66-degrees and no precipitation, and no stop lights and stop signs to contend with.
It’s then on to my “summer is here!” phase. The main indicator is the Giro d’Italia is being raced, the first of the three Grand Tours. The race includes twenty-one phases and this year’s race had a total of 3,317km with an altitude gain of 42,100m.
For me, this phase means I’m consistently riding outside, putting serious miles on the roads, sometimes 250 miles per workout or more. The transition to outside riding does take a little getting used to, mainly the arm and shoulder muscles and the constant road vibration. The other big difference is getting used to the auto traffic again, often high-speed, traveling at 45-60 miles an hour, only a few feet from myself and my bike.
I know we’re in the “thick of summer” when I’m riding in Leelanau County with some regularity. That, and the Tour de France is underway, the premier grand tour. It’s usually during this time I’ll participate in my first gran fondo of the season. However, this year I got an early jump and traveled to Florida during the “summer heads up” phase for a gran fondo.
As we know, all good things must come to an end, and so too must each summer. I know “summer is waning” when La Vuelta, the final grand tour of the season, which takes place in Spain, is underway. And in the later stages of La Vuelta, I can sense the crisp air returning during some of my rides.
It won’t be long until I’m back on a bike in the basement, connected to my trainer, going nowhere fast. But the sounds of my cycling hibernation, the whirr of the chain, the soft clicking of the electronic gear shift, and the hum of the trainer belt will feed my soul until next year’s “summer is around the corner”.
