Changing Gears

I changed gears today.

Actually, that’s a pretty significant statement for here in southern Louisiana. You see, Yr. Obd’t. Svt. was trying to see how long he could go without changing gears. From the weekly rides with the Bayou Country Cyclists from Houma to Chacahoula to the local fitness sessions around my home in Patterson, it had been many, many months that the road bike chain had been on the big ring in the front and the 15 cog on the back. This area is flat!

A month or so ago I conquered the first hill I had seen in many moons. I took a ride from my house to Burns Point, a 60 mile round trip, and the highway goes over the Intracoastal Waterway. In order to let large tugs and barges pass under the bridge, there is quite a large rise. Large enough to leave this overweight rider, the rider who hasn’t seen a hill since last January, somewhat breathless. But that day I was riding my touring bike, not the road bike. The gears on the road bike went unshifted.

Shifting gears is a skill that few of the riders in this part of the country have mastered. On a Chattanooga Bicycle Club ride, one of the first things you hear is the "click, click" of the riders shifting as they set off. And, of course, wherever you ride in Tennessee, it’s always uphill, no matter which direction you’re going, so you again hear the "click, click, click" as the riders downshift approaching the rise.

But what do you do when the change in elevation on a 30 mile ride approaches maybe one foot? Everyone starts off in the gear that they’ll be riding in, and they stay in that gear unless the wind starts blowing. No, shifting is a largely unlearned skill down here.

But today I finally had to shift gears on my road bike. I rode the 10 miles from my home in Patterson to the school, and to get there I had to cross the Atchafalaya River at Morgan City. And that meant clicking down two gears for the climb over the bridge. Felt funny, feeling my cadence increase while my speed stayed the same. And I had to remind myself to shift back up when I crested the bridge!

There are other ways to shift gears, too. You can shift gears in life. Let’s face it, my move to southern Louisiana to take this teaching job was a pretty big shift in my life. And now there’s another big shift coming. You see, Yr. Obd’t. Svt., Big John, is getting married. Yes, by the time you read this missive John will be a happily married man. My new wife’s name is Beth, and she comes from West Virginia. And we’ve already agreed that she will be THE LAST Mrs. Whiteley! (A funny aside…her full name is Elizabeth Jane, and many people call her Betty, although she prefers Beth. My mother’s name is Elizabeth Johanna, and everyone calls her Betty. And my ex-wife’s name was Betty. So if I ever move back to Spring City, which is my intention, Beth will be the third Betty Whiteley to live in my house! You’ll need a scorecard…)

So when you approach that next big hill, whether on the road or in life, be thankful that you are being given the opportunity to learn the skill of shifting gears. Hills are your friends…they make you stronger.

Have Fun, Don’t Fall

John