Given up driving? Sold your car? Trying to set yourself up for an optimal long-distance, year-long commuting life in all seasons?
This might just be the article for you.
As of this October, I will have lived a car-free life (or, at least, one where I haven’t owned a car and increasingly grown independent of one) for two full years. I will also have been commuting by bike for the same period. With the cost, unreliability and overt complexity of public transport in the UK, it was apparent that cycling was the only option for car-free travel over distances of 10-30km - which is around my travel radius to work and most places of immediate and regular importance.
I enjoy riding bikes a great deal, but commuting distorts the experience somewhat. It becomes a game of endurance and consistency, faced as you are with the choice between getting up and riding your bike every morning, or not going to your workplace at all. It also becomes a game of reliability. The question, “Is this repeatable over 5 days a week, 39 weeks a year?” (both for you and the bike you’re riding) takes precedence over recreation or enjoyment. This is not to say that cycle commuting is not enjoyable; merely that you put on a very different lens during the former than you would for, say, a weekend club ride or that epic bikepacking adventure in the Peak District.
Over two years, I’ve adopted a style of cycle commuting that I describe as the titular ‘Year-Long Audax.’ Just like during Audaxes or any long-distance rides, my goal is not to race or test my fitness (except on the odd occasion) but get from point A to B efficiently. Just like in an Audax, I have to be self-sufficient - it’s either that or I’m not getting to the end. Most importantly, though, comfort comes very high on my list of priorities. It’s all very good riding a slammed position once on a weekend ride, or racing on 23mm slicks, but how will that feel after a week of commuting? Or after teaching 5 lessons on your feet all day? Or in the driving rain, at night, unable to see around the next corner?
Based on these concerns, I’ve put together a list of eight choices that have worked for me as a year-long, all-season cycle commuter over these two years.
Obvious caveat: these are based on my specific style of riding, fitness and requirements for distance, but I argue that the basic tenets translate well to everybody with some adjustments.
Slightly less obvious caveat: this is not an exhaustive ‘what you should know before commuting by bike’ list. Other authors have written these lists, and very well. This, I hope, goes slightly beyond and to the left to offer real observations rooted in practical considerations.
Anyway - in no particular order:
1. Squishy means comfortable, comfortable means efficient.
I’d have debated this point a year ago, but now, after numerous lower back and hand issues I have little doubt that a bike that offers some sort of cushioning is A Good Thing. I’ll leave it upto you how you’d achieve that. Full-sus XC bike with lockouts and semi-slick tires? Perfect. 650B René Herse steel bike with posh fat tires? Brilliant. Redshift suspension everywhere? Whatever works. That rusty old hybrid/MTB from the backyard that can fit fat 26” tires under its V-brakes? D’you know what, if it spins, ride it.
Speaking of spinning…
2. …Yes, you DO need all those extra gears.
I’m a reasonably athletic person; I run, I keep strong and could ride fast if I wanted to. However, if I lead back again to that question of “Could I do it day after day after day after day” my answer is a resounding no. At one point, I ran a 52/36 chainset and an 11-30 cassette on my racy old Specialized Allez and wondered why my commute felt so miserable all the time. Not long after this, I tried a 46/36 and 11-36 configuration on my CX bike and loved how I could spin around gently on those tired mornings. My Stayer now has similar gearing and d’you know what? If I could get lower gearing still, I would without a doubt.
3. Variety is nice - within reason.
I remember a time last year when I had planned an extensive network of ‘alternative’ routes to and from work; some shorter, some longer, some on-road, some off-road, some taking city streets and some country paths. This was amazingly good fun for around a month before I started growing tired and settled on a small number of routes that varied within a short radius. Riding recreationally is fun, but now I find myself craving a simple and efficient ride home, leaving time for jobs and living, and energy for adventures when I want them.
NOTE: The shortest journey may not always be the best.
4. Keep the baggage choices simple - within reason.
It’s taken me a while to settle on the best commuting baggage for me. My Stayer has a frame bag and top tube bag on at all times anyway. I always have my Alpkit saddle bag and sometimes a handlebar bag with light layers or a change of clothes inside of them. I’ll occasionally carry a stove and mug for tea in the colder months. Sometimes I may even go full bike tourer (my Instagram stories might offer some insight). However, the bag I depend on the most is my backpack, for key items that I will need access to everyday and easily, like food, my laptop or marking. You may not need to carry as much as me (I’m a Design and Technology teacher, after all…) but I’d recommend a small system of modular bags centred around one larger, practical bag, the latter of which ideally travels with you for when you have to lock your bike away.
Speaking of layers?
5. Wear layers of technical clothing.
I think I’d be foolish to not wear technical cycling clothing, whether lycra or MTB baggies. If riding moderately fast for any distance, I’d simply sweat too much for anything else. The key is, though, to have many changeable layers that can easily be shed, donned or replaced when being washed (or repaired, which will inevitably need to happen). In most months, I swear by a sweat-wicking base layer, a jersey, bib shorts and depending on the weather, either insulating or water-repelling layers above it. Inevitably, the weather changes drastically from morning to evening, especially in the autumn and spring. One needs to be prepared for most things.
6. A dynamo hub will make your life easier. Kinda.
Think of a dynamo hub as the ultimate ‘being prepared for most things.’ As a vestige of my Audax and ultra-cycling habits, my dynamo setup has been invaluable - when it works. I can only blame my shonky electrical fittings for the latter, but to have limitless front and rear lighting (and charging, when I can afford to fit it) at the turn of a pedal is a real comfort. Yes, they’re an investment, but I’d argue that lights and chargers built into your vehicle are something we’re used to in cars anyway, so why are bikes any different? Answer that while looking at Clandestine Cycles’ back catalogue and tell me you don’t think dynamo hubs should be fitted to all cycles as standard.
7. Carry backup EVERYTHING, but definitely lights, a charger and a repair kit.
Even if you run a dynamo, you could still be left in the dark quite literally as I found one dim morning as my lights flickered…and died, halfway up a busy A-road climb. One develops their own system of what spares and repairs to carry over time, usually after something fails catastrophically, like my lights, or the time when my gear cable broke halfway up the steepest climb in the Yorkshire Dales. I won’t bore you with a list, but unarguably, you Should carry spare lights, a power bank and a repair kit as a get-out-of-jail in all scenarios kinda deal.
8. EVERYONE will tell you to get mudguards, which are great…sometimes.
I remain on the mudguard fence (or would that be a bridge?). My old Specialized Rockhopper errand bike has them; my Stayer does not. I think it really does come down to how you plan on using your bike, to be honest. On the Rockhopper I make shorter journeys in casual clothing, which I wouldn’t enjoy getting wet or muddy. In contrast, I usually ride the Stayer on journeys long enough that, by the time it’s rained enough for them to come handy, the rain from above has soaked me through anyway. Either way, if commuting for long enough in all seasons, you’re bound to get wet, dry or slightly uncomfortable in some way and I’m adamant that you simply have to get used to it.
And that, I think, is it. Here’s what some of those choices look like on my Stayer Groadinger UG:
Dynamo lighting front and rear, as per.
Permanent repair kit (under the downtube) and permanent spares/electrics (in the frame bags)
Easily removable, fillable and emptyable bikepacking bags
650Bx47mm semi-slick tires, suitable for most paved surfaces
Additional proviso - aerobars, for those weeks when you want your head down and to just get to work and back, fast. Also fantastic for different hand and body positions.
I think cycle commuting and travelling solely by bicycle is an amazing, amazing thing - just one that is best tempered with a pinch of pragmatism, a kilo of common sense and a finger firmly on the future, treating cycling as a long-term, sustainable practice and not something as a stopgap ‘till you buy that car you’re saving up for.’
Happy riding, and may the rain soak you only from above.
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