Drafting

Drafting is many things. Drafting creates a physical advantage, but more importantly, it is an act of generosity, trust, and meditative focus.

Physically speaking, drafting is when one cyclist rides very closely behind another, thereby limiting the second rider’s wind resistance and reducing drag. That “sweet spot” is called the slipstream, and one MIT scientist found that the trailing rider can reduce wind resistance by almost 40% if they ride within 12 inches of the leader’s back wheel. All that is to say, way less work on the trailing rider’s part, and much more work for the leading rider.

This points to drafting as an act of generosity. Stirling bore the full wind resistance for miles through the blustery wheat fields of Northern Spain yesterday, saving me a tremendous amount of effort. One rider sacrifices their own energy to conserve the other’s. It is a partnership of give-and-take. A generous act.

This requires a tremendous amount of trust. To find that sweet spot of reduced air pressure in the leading rider’s slip stream, the second rider must trail within a foot or two of the leader. When drafting, the second rider cannot see the road ahead. Cannot see bumps, cracks, holes, rocks, or scraps of metal; cannot anticipate hazards or the need to swerve. They trust the leading rider to guide and point out possible dangers. The leading rider is eyes for both.

Riding 20+ mph twelve inches away from someone’s back wheel, unable to see the road before you, is a bit dangerous—which is why drafting is also an act of meditative focus. My eyes are glued to the back wheel, and to the body of the leading cyclist, anticipating their weaving and gear shifts. If I fall out of the slip stream, I’m blasted with wind and have to fight to catch back up. If my front wheel hits my partner’s rear tire, it immediately stops and throws me head over handlebars into the grit and asphalt. The stakes are high.

This is how we pass our windy days, drafting each other in a dance of aerodynamic generosity, trust, and focus.