On the most recent episode of Spin Cycle (published on or around 9/21/2026), our dear hosts, Jonny, Caley, and Ronan, lament the activity of climbing on a bike and inquire with semi-mock incredulity whether anyone actually enjoys pedaling uphill.
I do. Do you?
I believe that hills have become increasingly democratized by modern gearing, which is probably the single greatest and most unrecognized advancement in cycling over the last 25 years.
My first drop bar road bike was a 2012 Jamis Xenith SL (pic at the bottom of this post). It came with a 53/39 crankset and an 11-25 cassette. Also 21mm wide tubular tires. I didn’t know any better at the time.
I’ve owned many bikes since then, and have seen the stock cassette ranges slowly grow from 11-28 to 11-30 to 11-32, until now it’s not uncommon to buy a performance road bike with an 11-36 cassette in the back, paired with a 48/35 crankset, giving the rider a sub-1/1 gear --plenty for most people to spin pleasantly if not quickly up gradients exceeding 15%. Back in the day on my Jamis, even at the spry and limber young age of 23, hills in excess of 15% were anything but pleasant (although being forced to ride 'em in those big gear combos meant that I had no choice but to make relatively quick work of them).
I sold that Jamis to The Pro’s Closet a long time ago, but since then have acquired multiple bikes from the mid-80’s featuring such wonderful gear ratios as 52/42 x 13-24 or something like that, just to roleplay what it was like for our cycling heroes of the past to ride and race over hills and mountains in their times.
My point is that, circa 2026, cycling --even up very steep hills-- does not necessarily have to equal suffering. At least not physical suffering. So why don’t more people love climbing?
Around 7 years ago, I moved from an area of New Jersey where a 100 mile ride means 1500-4000 feet of climbing, to just outside of Shenandoah National Park in Virginia, where a 100 mile ride often means between 10 and 13,000 feet of climbing. My daily rides went from being 20-24 mph to maybe 17-18-19 mph if I worked very hard! Since I was climbing 120 feet per mile almost every day, I got used to going slow. My friends who visited me from NJ to ride, it bothered them. Like, “We’ve done 22 miles and my average speed only just pipped above 10mph for the first time all day!”
At this point, for me, climbing is just a fact of riding and a fact of life. It’s as natural a state to be in as descending or cruising on the flats and rollers. And I love it for so many reasons.
Yes, I live in a beautiful place: Skyline Drive, which winds through the entirety of Shenandoah National Park, is a 105 mile road that drivers must pay to enter, has a 35 mile speed limit, very low traffic 95% of the year, no traffic lights or stop signs, and only a few intersections. It features endless close-up views of neat rock formations, flora and fauna, as well as over one hundred overlooks featuring stunning valley views on either side of the mountain ridge. Throughout this entire experience, you are either climbing or descending; very rarely is there more than the briefest interval of flatness anywhere.
But this isn’t an encomium for SNP, it’s an explanation of why I love climbing, and the stunning terrain and relatively gentle never-steeper-than-7% slopes of the park don’t fully explain it, so here are a few more reasons:
- Going slower gives me time to see it in detail.
- I do my best thinking while I’m climbing.
- No other type of terrain give the rider a feeling of accomplishment like climbing --like, I finish my ride and look up at the mountains and think to myself, "Holy smokes, I was up there, I rode up there, over all those mountains way up there, just using my bike and my body.
- If I want to push myself, I usually do my best riding when I’m climbing.
- Climbing adds variety. There’s something lovely about making endlessly forward speedy progress on a bicycle, watching the scenery pass rapidly as you fly through it, but this sensation is enjoyed all the more when you have the contrast of watching the scenery pass slowly as you ascend a looooong mountain climb, pulling the view forward with your legs like it’s a tapestry on a pulley system. The bend in the road that was once so annoyingly distant is just a short daydream away from being in your literal or proverbial rearview mirror.
- It feels good to ride in a different position and use different parts of your body.
- It’s great to be able to shout at people snapping iphone pictures at overlooks, “Hey, no photography in the park!” and be going slow enough to have time to appreciate their reactions.
- Several years ago, for the second or third time, I stopped using any sort of bike computer. I’m not worried about what sort of a bite this next 4 mile climb is going to take out of my up-til-now-so-impressive average speed. I know what easy feels like, I know what hard feels like, and I decide moment to moment what I want to feel and how I want to ride this hill.
- I’m less likely to get nailed by a spooked deer going uphill than I am going downhill. Likewise, I am less likely to run over a psychotically confused squirrel at 12 mph than at 40 mph.
- So many more reasons.
Gosh, I love climbing, and I always have, even in those 39x25 low gear days, but it’s definitely more fun now.
Do you?
