Pedals and Progress: Finding Size-Inclusive Cycling Spaces

As a larger-bodied or fat cyclist, I’ve had a lot of negative experiences just trying to get gear and clothing. Hard-working advocates have shifted the industry, but I think we’d all acknowledge there’s a long way to go before biking is truly size-inclusive.

When shopping for my first pair of chamois shorts, I was told I’d “lose the baby fat” once I started riding more. I'm pretty sure a 32-year-old (my age at the time) doesn’t have, uh, ‘baby fat.’ A shop tried to sell me a bike that was too small because they didn’t have ‘women’s’ bikes large enough for my 5’10” frame, but that’s all they had in stock. When stores haven’t had my clothing size in stock, despite carrying the few brands that actually go above an extra-large, I’ve been told to buy a bunch of cycling clothing online and then return it to the store if it doesn’t fit.

Buying hundreds of dollars of clothing to need to return it? In THIS (or any!) economy?!

At another store, an associate scoffed at the idea that the bibs technically in my size didn’t fit right because that style worked for other (I’m guessing straight-sized) customers. I invested in a bike fit, except it was so poorly done that my pain increased. So I went back and just had them undo everything. I didn’t get another bike fit for seven years. 

Despite these experiences, even though I’m repeatedly told explicitly or implicitly that I don’t belong, I love biking and keep at it.

I’m sharing these stories to illustrate what a difference it’s made to have a fit by a bike fitter who’s a physical therapist and to have a bike built by an inclusive shop.

What happened when I got that bike fit seven years later? I went to Natalie, owner of PedalFit LLC, a physical therapist and bike fitter. That professional combination matters because, like any physical therapist, she deeply understands how bodies work, but uniquely, she’s a cyclist who also lives in a larger body. She’s very familiar with how larger or fat people are treated in cycling spaces.

I can talk to her about anything without fearing shame, intrusive or disrespectful questions, or assumptions. My thighs were constantly pushing against my belly so she has me in a more upright position - now I have room to breathe. For saddle fit, I need to think about sit bones, but I also need to consider how much soft tissue I have, and we’ve chosen a saddle with a larger cutout. She’s straightforward and explains things clearly without assuming what I do or don’t know about bikes or anatomy. She’s been generous with her time and even led a workshop for our local ABOB community on saddle fit for all genders, anatomy, and sizes. 

It wasn’t until I joined All Bodies on Bikes (ABOB) as a Denver chapter lead and made friends who’re into gravel that I understood how inclusive it is. When I got the chance to enter Treehouse Cyclery’s opening weekend adventure bike raffle, I took it. A custom frame? An “all-terrain bicycle”? I get to pick out the color? AND I’ll get to spend more time with my gravel friends?! Of course, I expected not to win because who wins raffles? Not me. 

But I did!

The author, Noelle, with their new bike in front of Treehouse Cyclery

I lead bike rides with ABOB because I want others to have the sense of belonging I couldn’t find when I moved to Colorado. I hope they’ll feel the little kid's stomach-dropping joy that I do. I hope they’ll feel cared for and have a sense of community on our rides. 

But I’m no bike expert. I mean, I can change a tire; I’ve even taken a mechanics class. I still can’t name every part of a bicycle, and I can’t build my own bike. I have a lot to learn, and learning new things can be really vulnerable, especially when they’re related to body size and ability.

What I learned about being a larger rider and bike building was from the All Bodies on Bikes resource, “Biking for Big People.” I’ve Googled around, but wow, is it tough to wade through all the fatphobic and pro-weight-loss content. That’s not why I ride my bike. When I’m outside, my body is free to be the size it is without the constraint of a built environment. I ride for joy.

I’d never worked with a frame builder before, but Ashley from Significant Other Bikes knocked it out of the park. She specializes in steel and titanium adventure bike frames and partners with B from Hot Salad Bicycles for the fork. Steel and titanium offer the greatest weight-bearing capacity, so we were already set there. We talked about my height, weight, general riding experience, and intended riding style. I learned the more weight that’ll be on the bike, and the rougher the riding, the more stress a frame will experience, so the tubes will generally be larger. After providing Ashley with my bike fit specs from Natalie and answering questions about riding and features (how many mounts? ALL OF THEM!!), she got to work fabricating the frame. Ashley even added a very meaningful detail – my initials on the stay caps. And if you, like me, didn’t know what those are, well, it’s the top of the ‘seat stay’, the part of the frame that connects from the rear gears to the upper part of the frame.

Noelle’s new bike!

Working with Alyssa and Kolby from Treehouse to build the bike was the most welcome I’d ever felt in a shop. I shared how a spoke broke on my aluminum frame road bike a while back. Standard wheels come with 29, maybe 32 spokes. They didn’t judge why that happened or immediately blame it on my weight. Honestly, I don’t know why it broke. I do know that the higher the spoke count, the more weight a bike can bear. So, between potentially carrying gear and my own weight, we decided that the front would have 32 spokes and the back wheel would have 36. More spokes on the back because most weight rests on the back of the bike between rider and cargo weight. They asked me lots of questions about components, explained everything in simple terms, and created a build list. With the frame completed, Kolby got to work, and now I have a beautiful, custom, sparkly, purple bike. 

As of this writing, I’ve put around 70 miles on my new bike. Now, I ride my bike with confidence. I’m learning a new way of riding—there are lots of types of gravel, it turns out. Champagne? Chonky? Sandy! What’s different is that I’m not only confident in my ability to ride. I’m confident that if anything goes wrong or needs to be changed, I have a group of folks I can reach out to, who’ll believe me and help me find the right solution. They’ll explain what’s going on in simple terms, without assumptions or judgment. 

That’s what inclusivity is. This is what belonging feels like.

Happy riding!

Look at that paint job!