Dr. Rainer Newberry, a geology professor at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks, invented the Fun Scale around 1985. Getting to the geologic study site in Alaska in those days involved hiking and climbing over challenging terrain. It could be raining or even snowing. He created the Fun Scale during one trip that was, in his words, “pretty hairy.”
The scale has 3 types of fun:
Type 1 fun is enjoyable while it’s happening. Also known as, simply, fun.
Type 2 fun is miserable while it’s happening but fun in retrospect.
Type 3 fun is not fun at all. Not even in hindsight.
The Fun Scale was quickly adopted by the mountaineering community as a simple mechanism for rating climbs and quantifying the fun-to-suffer ratio. Of course, where an effort falls on the Fun Scale depends on one’s tolerance for discomfort and risk. One person’s Type 2 fun may be another’s Type 3 fun.
The scale has since been applied to other outdoor activities. When applied to cycling, Type 1 rides are leisurely, casual rides along a scenic route at a comfortable pace.
Photograph courtesy of M Lim
Type 2 rides are challenging rides that feel good to complete, like an Audax ride. I wouldn’t describe them as “miserable.” They can hurt, though. This photograph was taken during an Audax 300 km ride in 2017.
Photograph courtesy of M Lai
Type 3 rides are very difficult or dangerous, such as riding in extreme weather conditions or cycling through heavy traffic with significant danger.
I have not had any “What was I thinking?” Type 3 rides. I have done a few rides that were fun in parts, but I would not do them again. The Audax 400 km ride in 2016 is one of those. My friends and I remember
Photographs courtesy of M Lai and Audax Randonneurs Malaysia
Less memorable are particular incidents during that ride. Like the fall into a drain that led to this:
I do not have any 300 km or 400 km rides left in me. Not at my current level of fitness.
These days, my friends and I occasionally stray into Type 2 territory, like the 109 km Audax Pink Ride we did last January. Again, this ride was not miserable, but it was certainly uncomfortable at times.
Photograph courtesy of Audax Randonneurs Malaysia
We are mostly about Type 1 rides now.
Definitely heavy on the “enjoyable while it’s happening” side of the Fun Scale.
A bike is never just a bike – it’s a reflection of where you are, where you’ve been, and, sometimes, where you want to go.
Iain Treloar Bikes of the (Staff) Bunch: Iain’s Moots Vamoots CR Velo, Updated Oct 9, 2023
Iain wrote about how you can trace the changes in his life by what and where he has been riding. This made me think about all the bikes I have owned.
I started road cycling at the end of 2008, relatively late in my life. That is when I bought a Trek 7.5 FX and started exploring the streets of downtown Houston.
Photograph courtesy of viaciclante.com
Many posts in this blog trace my cycling journey from that hybrid bike through a succession of road bikes.
There were earlier times in my life when I owned a bicycle. My first bike was a Raleigh Chopper.
Photograph courtesy of wheredidtheygo.co.uk
I was eleven or twelve years old. That Chopper, with its stick shift and easy rider handlebars, was certainly cool. It also wasn’t very safe. The rearward centre of gravity made it easy to pop unintended wheelies. I still carry a scar on one knee from a fall after I stamped on the pedals and the front wheel went skyward.
I don’t remember what happened to that bike. There wasn’t anywhere to cycle to, and I don’t recall any other children in the neighborhood having bikes. I must have stopped riding it, and my parents got rid of it.
I was fifteen when I was given another bicycle. This time, it was a Raleigh Grand Prix road bike.
Photograph courtesy of sheldonbrown.com
It came with toe clips and straps on the pedals. If you flipped the pedals, the clips scraped on the ground on the downstroke. Speaking of scrapes, the cottered cranks regularly took skin off my ankle bones. I rode that bicycle a lot. I rode it to school. I rode it to evening football games. I rode it to visit friends in places like Petaling Jaya, a 25 km round trip.
I didn’t ride for fun as a teenager. I didn’t explore the city on my bicycle. I didn’t have any friends who cycled. My bicycle was purely a mode of transport to get to and from places. Again, I didn’t have friends who cycled, so there was no social aspect to enjoy.
I still had that bike when I went overseas to university. When I came home after graduating, I found that my father had given it away. At that stage of my life, getting settled and starting my first job took centre stage. Riding a bicycle never crossed my mind. I didn’t think much of it then, but I wish I still had that bike.
My career and family occupied most of my time through my thirties and into my forties. My main forms of exercise then were playing football, basketball and jogging. It wasn’t until work took me to England that I owned another bicycle. We lived in a cul de sac, and my neighbours had bicycles. They rode as a group on summer evenings. I bought a Carrera mountain bike to join them on those social rides. Mostly to a local pub! I rode it to work a few times, but it largely served a social purpose.
The only photograph I could find of what looks like that bike is in this mid-1990s advertisement.
Photograph courtesy of eBay.co.uk
That Carrera came to Kuala Lumpur with me at the end of my overseas posting. I occasionally rode it around the neighbourhood but depended upon football and squash for exercise. I recall a death-defying experience when I followed a mountain-biker friend at speed down a jungle trail to find an open ditch at the bottom of the hill. To this day, I do not know how I bunny-hopped that ditch and stayed upright. That was the last time I rode off-road.
A few years later, I accepted a job in Paris, and the Carrera came with me. I used it more to ride around the neighbourhood with my sons than anything else. My life was in turmoil at the end of that posting, and the bike got lost in the shuffle.
It was seven years before a bicycle entered my life again. The year was 2008. I was fifty-two, with a recent ACL replacement. You can read about it here.
Cycling has played a major role in my life since then. I ride for the physical challenge, to explore, and to enjoy the sights and sounds of nature. I also ride with friends for the shared experiences and camaraderie.
I still ride three of the four road bikes that came into my life after the Trek, starting in January 2010. My second road bike is accumulating miles with a friend in Canada.
There will come a time when an e-bike is a sensible option. I hope not for a while longer, though. I like where I am and where I want to go.
New Year, New Rides: Setting smart cycling goals for 2025 on welovecycling.com
Then there are the YouTube videos:
My CRAZY Cycling Goals for 2025? – New Year’s Q&A
What are your cycling goals for 2025?
Unpacking my cycling goals for 2025
Contrary to these, the YouTube video that reflects my attitude toward cycling goals today is titled No Cycling Goals This Year – And It Feels Great!
When I started cycling on a road bike in 2010, my goal was simple. Keep up with the much more experienced group of roadies I joined! That goal quickly changed to surviving the longer and longer rides I was roped into. I remember feeling thoroughly trashed during the last 20 km of the 98.4 km Gator Ride in March 2010. That was not quite my first metric-century ride. I didn’t have the energy to pedal another 1.6 km to make it a 100 km ride.
My first ride further than 100 km was almost an Imperial century. As with the Gator Ride, I didn’t have the energy to cover another 3.9 km to turn the 156.1 km Space Race in April 2010 into a 160 km ride.
AI image generated by WordPress
It wasn’t until 2012 that I completed a 160 km ride. Under a cold and grey early spring sky in South Holland.
Photograph courtesy of sleutelstad.nl
Things snowballed from there. I did progressively longer and longer rides. My first annual cycling goal was to ride 10,000 km in 2015. I increased that to 12,000 km in 2016 and 15,000 km in 2017.
Turning 60 at the end of 2017, along with the occasional medical issue and what life throws at you in general, coincides with an ongoing reduction in my annual distances. I rode 12,000 km in 2018 and 10,000 km in 2019, and the number has continued to fall. These days, I am pleased to ride 5,000 km in a year. Chasing kilometres has been replaced by rides to that day’s breakfast place.
This makes my non-cycling goal to weigh less at the end of 2025 than I do now particularly challenging!
Old Roots, New Routes 