My last night out was ...

[TheBrownDog]

Crikey, it was Sept 2021, half a year ago. I've been trawling through my photos and there it was, the evidence of my shame. I've been camping a few times since and even slept a couple of nights in my hammock slung betwixt the apple trees at the bottom of my garden, which is easy and really lovely. My excuses since December have been a new puppy in the house, yet another dose of COVID and back pain that keeps on giving. Truth is though, the mojo is gone.

Anyone else? Advice on getting back out there?

[fatbikephil]

I can't offer anything profound I'm afraid.... When I'm feeling a bit demotivated I do the following:-
Without thinking about it I throw stuff on the bike and set off early evening in the direction of a known bivvy spot, ensuring I have a selection of refreshing beverages with me, with the sole intention of sitting under the tarp reading and drinking and listening to woodland sounds, as an alternative to sitting on the couch reading and drinking, listening to radio 3
Read the BAM thread and be motivated purely by the lunacy on there and a desire to join in, even if you will never compete with Reg.
Read some of the trip reports on here (there have been some good ones recently) and think 'I want to do that, but in my part of the world' and look forward to spouting about it on this forum. There will always be something to make folk smile on any given bivvy trip.

Back pain is a damn nuisance as it's easy for it to get in the way of everything to do with bikepacking - riding bike, pitching tarp / tent, getting down into it. I got to the point where I just though 'stuff it I'm going to carry on regardless' otherwise I'd have gone nuts. Obviously all the physio, pilates / yoga stuff helps too but gratuitous use of paracetemol / Ibruprofen as a way of making the pain go away for long enough to get out is a good tactic for dealing with it.

It's also fine to accept a mojo reduction for a while and let things slide, rather than beating yourself up about it. A few day / hour / 2 hour etc rides might get you back into the swing of things?

Good luck!

[Bearlegged]

If you want to get out, but that in itself isn't enough motivation, could you link it up with something else? E.g. ride to a friend's house for the evening, camp out on the way home? (Not quite enough motivation + a bit more motivation = enough to do both things)

OTOH, if you don't want to get out, but feel you "should", then +1 to what Phil says, don't beat yourself up about it.

[PaulB2]

Prior to this year's WRT I think my last bikepacking trip was the meetup at Cannock in June '21. Maybe try some b&b touring as an easy re-introduction and see if it reignites something. It depends if your preference is camp to ride or ride to camp.

[Bearbonesnorm]

Following a bout of depression a couple of years ago, my mojo has ebbed and flowed. I'm trying to rediscover what it was that I loved so much about the physical act of riding a bike. I know that probably sounds a bit odd but in all honesty, I can't remember. Most riding now either feels like a chore or an extravagance wasteful of time. I still enjoy 'exploring' and wondering round the countryside but so often it seems easier to do it on foot (Ruby probably doesn't help there) than by bike.

Of course, there's also the 'use it or lose it' issue which tends to compound things further - I wrote the piece below after talking to a couple of people earlier in the year about the subject.

If you’re reading this because you’re waiting to have a filling and the cover looked more appealing than that of a three year old copy of Bella, then I apologise because the following will make absolutely no sense to you. You may as well stop now, put this back on the table and have a look for last April’s edition of Country Life. However, should you be reading this from the loving embrace of your favourite arm chair, then please do carry on. In fact, I’m going to wager that many of those who’ve chosen to read this due to an interest in bicycles may find themselves not only relating to what they’re about to read but also questioning whether my super-powers extend beyond cynicism and sarcasm and if I really can read minds. If you’ve ever ridden a bike more than a handful of times and I assume those still reading have, then you’ve probably also experienced a ‘bad ride’. It happens to everyone sooner rather than later, yet there’s perhaps only a tiny fraction of the cycling populace that have ever suffered a ‘truly bad ride’. The latter tend to be served to you from a simmering pan of circumstance. A dash of this, a drop of that and just a sprinkle of something special. The resulting brew is not a pleasant one. Not only does it look, smell and taste like sub standard but it’s also one who’s ingestion can produce long-lasting, debilitating and even life changing side effects.

It’s something that’s seldom talked about openly and sufferers often find themselves feeling isolated and trapped within a vicious circle that seemingly has no escape. A fortunate few can simply shrug it off; water off a ducks back. For others though, that same water dissolves their thick skin and drips away, slowly eroding their hard stony interior until all that’s left is a solid foundation of self doubt on which to build a tower of self loathing. Just what is this unspeakable evil I talk of? What affliction could be so terrible as to make someone turn away from their true love to live a solitary half life in the shadows? Group Ride Anxiety Syndrome is what and not only is it very real but I’d also hazard a guess that at least one person you know has it, maybe even you?

As previously stated, it’s an aliment usually picked up following a particularly ‘truly bad ride’. I’m not talking about a ride that felt a little more strenuous than usual or one which pushed you a little. No, I’m talking about a ride undertaken with polystyrene lungs and concrete legs. A ride where every insignificant incline is an unscalable peak and each miserable treacly minute drags like an hour. The physical battle is hard enough to deal with but it’s often the mental cavalry charge that delivers the devastating and decisive blow. As you inhale yet another lung full of napalm and try not to be sick, your mind begins to whisper; ‘you’re getting old’ it’ll say. It’ll tell you that everyone is so much faster and fitter than you and that you can’t keep up. You’ll fight those treacherous thoughts with each and every fibre but it’s often to no avail because it knows just where to prod and poke in order to cause the greatest damage, keep the wound wide open and make it ripe for infection. ‘You’re holding them up’ it sneers before highlighting just how unfair it is that you’re the reason everyone else has to wait.

Once the ordeal’s finally over, your body washed from the dirt and your mind free of the lies, that should be it but sometimes, it isn’t. You tell yourself that tomorrow’s another day, how you’d not been well and that you’ve had a few late nights but it’s not enough. Those dark thoughts cut deeper than you imagined and they linger, fester and grow. The memory of the physical pain is still sharp enough to make any repeat experience something best avoided and so the downward spiral begins.

You start to avoid the regular mid-week ride and the once cherished weekends away are readily replaced by work, prior commitments or washing the cat. You fall into the habit of solo rides but it’s not the same. You change tack and buy an indoor trainer but staring at a screen while turning the cranks is no more than cycling masturbation and merely going through the motions. You miss the bond, the camaraderie and the people. Your motivation ebbs, saddle time diminishes and your fitness declines alongside it. Riding feels harder so you ride less. It feels harder still, so you ride less. It’s a cycle of non-cycling that’s hard to break free from, yet there is a cure. A bitter pill it may be and you’ll need to grasp the nettle by the horns but reborn you will be. Your return will be noted but no one will judge because unbeknown to you, there’s a small group of people sat on a nearby hillside each Wednesday evening saying, “I wish they’d come out with us, it’s not the same without them”. You see, people don’t choose to ride with you because of some meaningless Strava statistics, they do so because fast, slow or indifferent, you’re their friend and they’d like you back.

[ScotRoutes]

I'll not deny I've had a few ups and downs with motivation. BAM has helped of course. It might be meaningless to most folk but keeping the streak going has often been just enough to tip me out of the door. I also try to reflect upon/recall some of the great nights out I've had, whether that's a special wildlife sighting, something celestial or just a zen-like feeling of peace. I don't think I've ever regretted a night out.

[ton]

My last night out was last years jennride. Where I slept in Ambleside Park.
I have never ever been comfy when sleeping out. Everything is too small. Kip bags. Bivi bags. Tents.
Hence my love of touring and staying in hostels and such

[Rob S]

Maybe organise a ride and camp with a mate? I always have more enthusiasm when I'm out with a friend rather than on my own.

[Keith74]

Completely get it.

Go through the same thing. Scary when I think my last time on the bike was February. Life has got slightly in the way but mostly have just been lacking motivation to do anything. Have been out with the bivy bag for a few nights but mostly just walked from the house to somewhere close.

[belugabob]

Following a bout of depression a couple of years ago, my mojo has ebbed and flowed. I'm trying to rediscover what it was that I loved so much about the physical act of riding a bike. I know that probably sounds a bit odd but in all honesty, I can't remember. Most riding now either feels like a chore or an extravagance wasteful of time. I still enjoy 'exploring' and wondering round the countryside but so often it seems easier to do it on foot (Ruby probably doesn't help there) than by bike.

Of course, there's also the 'use it or lose it' issue which tends to compound things further - I wrote the piece below after talking to a couple of people earlier in the year about the subject.

If you’re reading this because you’re waiting to have a filling and the cover looked more appealing than that of a three year old copy of Bella, then I apologise because the following will make absolutely no sense to you. You may as well stop now, put this back on the table and have a look for last April’s edition of Country Life. However, should you be reading this from the loving embrace of your favourite arm chair, then please do carry on. In fact, I’m going to wager that many of those who’ve chosen to read this due to an interest in bicycles may find themselves not only relating to what they’re about to read but also questioning whether my super-powers extend beyond cynicism and sarcasm and if I really can read minds. If you’ve ever ridden a bike more than a handful of times and I assume those still reading have, then you’ve probably also experienced a ‘bad ride’. It happens to everyone sooner rather than later, yet there’s perhaps only a tiny fraction of the cycling populace that have ever suffered a ‘truly bad ride’. The latter tend to be served to you from a simmering pan of circumstance. A dash of this, a drop of that and just a sprinkle of something special. The resulting brew is not a pleasant one. Not only does it look, smell and taste like sub standard but it’s also one who’s ingestion can produce long-lasting, debilitating and even life changing side effects.

It’s something that’s seldom talked about openly and sufferers often find themselves feeling isolated and trapped within a vicious circle that seemingly has no escape. A fortunate few can simply shrug it off; water off a ducks back. For others though, that same water dissolves their thick skin and drips away, slowly eroding their hard stony interior until all that’s left is a solid foundation of self doubt on which to build a tower of self loathing. Just what is this unspeakable evil I talk of? What affliction could be so terrible as to make someone turn away from their true love to live a solitary half life in the shadows? Group Ride Anxiety Syndrome is what and not only is it very real but I’d also hazard a guess that at least one person you know has it, maybe even you?

As previously stated, it’s an aliment usually picked up following a particularly ‘truly bad ride’. I’m not talking about a ride that felt a little more strenuous than usual or one which pushed you a little. No, I’m talking about a ride undertaken with polystyrene lungs and concrete legs. A ride where every insignificant incline is an unscalable peak and each miserable treacly minute drags like an hour. The physical battle is hard enough to deal with but it’s often the mental cavalry charge that delivers the devastating and decisive blow. As you inhale yet another lung full of napalm and try not to be sick, your mind begins to whisper; ‘you’re getting old’ it’ll say. It’ll tell you that everyone is so much faster and fitter than you and that you can’t keep up. You’ll fight those treacherous thoughts with each and every fibre but it’s often to no avail because it knows just where to prod and poke in order to cause the greatest damage, keep the wound wide open and make it ripe for infection. ‘You’re holding them up’ it sneers before highlighting just how unfair it is that you’re the reason everyone else has to wait.

Once the ordeal’s finally over, your body washed from the dirt and your mind free of the lies, that should be it but sometimes, it isn’t. You tell yourself that tomorrow’s another day, how you’d not been well and that you’ve had a few late nights but it’s not enough. Those dark thoughts cut deeper than you imagined and they linger, fester and grow. The memory of the physical pain is still sharp enough to make any repeat experience something best avoided and so the downward spiral begins.

You start to avoid the regular mid-week ride and the once cherished weekends away are readily replaced by work, prior commitments or washing the cat. You fall into the habit of solo rides but it’s not the same. You change tack and buy an indoor trainer but staring at a screen while turning the cranks is no more than cycling masturbation and merely going through the motions. You miss the bond, the camaraderie and the people. Your motivation ebbs, saddle time diminishes and your fitness declines alongside it. Riding feels harder so you ride less. It feels harder still, so you ride less. It’s a cycle of non-cycling that’s hard to break free from, yet there is a cure. A bitter pill it may be and you’ll need to grasp the nettle by the horns but reborn you will be. Your return will be noted but no one will judge because unbeknown to you, there’s a small group of people sat on a nearby hillside each Wednesday evening saying, “I wish they’d come out with us, it’s not the same without them”. You see, people don’t choose to ride with you because of some meaningless Strava statistics, they do so because fast, slow or indifferent, you’re their friend and they’d like you back.

Thanks Norm.
With one thing (yes, that thing) and another, I've not been riding with my mates (or as much as I'd have liked to, in general) for over two years. I totally relate to the sentiment of that piece.
However, I'm starting a new job, on Monday, and will be able to cycle commute, instead of drive, so getting the cycling habit back is definitely on the cards.
Once I feel more capable again, my former riding companions will be able to say "oh, not him..." once more.

[Disco]

Nice thoughts stu. Ive been under a cloud last couple of years, I'm going through period of acceptance of growing older again, I've been struggling mentally with what feels like life is just rushing by with work, family. Feeling tired most of the time, more busy than I've ever been.
As with everything, for me it's about finding balance and acceptance.
Recently I've been popping to the shops on the bike. Then extending my route a little getting there. A little bit each day. The more I get fitter the better it feels, the more comfortable I am on my bike. I spent yesterday in work just thinking of my bike all day. I'm self employed, I finished at three and went on my bike for two hours. I'm starting to get my mojo back, it's making me realise(again) that this is not so much physical but mainly psychological barriers that I have to cross.
A lot of people I know have gone into there shell last couple of years,it's been a strange time. We're meeting up again now, once a month, go for a leisurely ride.
I think part of my problem is that my 40's were so good, I did so much and felt fitter and stronger that I ever did. It's my fifties that im struggling to adjust to.

[faustus]

I can relate to this too, mojo has been trying to adjust to family life for the past 4 years or so, with mixed success. I'm not sure I can share much in the way of insight to help, but i've found 'utility' biking has helped. It's an odd term because it's just bloody riding without all of the physical and psychological paraphernalia of riding for sport or leisure. I've enjoyed the freedom of hopping on the bike in normal clothes, frequently without helmet, to aid me doing something useful or just getting out and about. The rides are not logged or planned, or at all long, but it highlights all of the things we unwittingly/unhappily impose as 'the law' for riding, like speed, distance, sharing, athletic purpose, etc. etc. And it's the conforming to these things, or not being able to, or even thinking I should, that eats into the mojo.

Sleeping out can perhaps be viewed in a similar way, on this forum the unwritten norms of nights out are wild camping - which is great and not at all intended as a criticism - but it's something that has a degree of conformity to it, that might not help with one's motivation. Other versions of sleeping out are available of course, but i've no idea what the sleeping out equivalent of utility biking is, if you follow the analogy from above!? Anyway, i've not slept out since last July and i'm itching to get out before its sh!tty and wintry again...

[voodoo_simon]

To be fair, I don’t really like camping out Think I’ve mentioned this in the past.

I like waking up in the middle of nowhere but I find the evenings get a bit boring sitting still in one place and I never sleep well either. I’ve tried the pitch late and leave early approach and seems to work the best, but can often mean cycling past some nice spots. I’ll go camping if it means an extension to a trip but I wouldn’t go for the sake of it.

Family is always a juggle for me, used to work every weekend until 2 1/2 years ago, coupled with a wife that’s a nurse on shift and a mini-voodoo, meant the starts didn’t align all that often to get two days of in a row with no responsibilities.

Still, I can’t complain as I do get time to ride my bike two or three times a week and without sending like a twit, my motivation is at an all time high (probably something to do with dry trails… )

[ScotRoutes]

To be fair, I don’t really like camping out

Yeah, we're all coming at this from different angles. I like camping out overnight and am happy to do so on foot, from the car or with the bike. I've a couple of run/walk type routes I'm keen to try too, going ultra-lightweight.

[RIP]

Nice post:

but i've found 'utility' biking has helped...... I've enjoyed the freedom of hopping on the bike in normal clothes, frequently without helmet, to aid me doing something useful or just getting out and about.

Definitely does. It's always been part of my life. I don't even realise I'm doing it most of the time. I have an errand, I just jump on the bike, no thought no prep. People say "oh you biked here", sometimes they end up with a look of genuine surprise from me: "gosh, I do seem to have don't I". Thereby biking is built into your life.

The rides are not logged or planned, or at all long, but it highlights all of the things we unwittingly/unhappily impose as 'the law' for riding, like speed, distance, sharing, athletic purpose, etc. etc. And it's the conforming to these things, or not being able to, or even thinking I should, that eats into the mojo.

Yep. Never been interested in all that "numbers" baggage. Get on the bike, go on an errand, go for fun, whatever.

Other versions of sleeping out are available of course, but i've no idea what the sleeping out equivalent of utility biking is

It's definitely tramping. Notice a roadside barn/toilet/shed/chicken-hutch-on-wheels. Have a look inside. Consult Rule 1. Kip in it if passes Rule 1. That's utility.

to get out before its sh!tty and wintry again...

Nah, easily the best time of year. Put a coat on!

[whitestone]

Hmmm.

I think we can get a bit jaded. Maybe it's lack of stimulus/variety - going out for a bivy in one of a small number of sites you've used (several times) before does start to become stale after a while. I certainly struggle to just head out from the door for an evening ride and bivy. When we went up to Scotland a couple of weeks ago we just went with no expectations, a couple of possible routes to do depending on the weather and...

it was brilliant!

Even in the Highlands it's pretty difficult to string a route together that if you've done or attempted things like the HT550 or the Cairngorms Loop that is totally new, particularly in the west where there's few alternatives but apart from the Glen Coe to Victoria Bridge section of the WHW, the route out from Benalder Cottage, a few Km along the Pattack and a few Km on the road into Braemar everything was new to us.

If you can come up with a reason to head out (see Reg's quarries trips) then "it's not just about the bike".