Coffee for Cyclists (part three)
Most of the cycling community love coffee. They either need it to get in the saddle or they need it as motivation to finish their ride. My partner, Charly, and I are no different; on our recent North American tour, we had every kind of coffee under the sun — and under the rain, wind, thunder, and frost.
It’s the lubricant on our figurative chains. It’s the fuel in our tanks. It’s the slight tailwind on a headwind kind of day. It’s a patch of shade under the midday sun. It’s a bond between strangers. It’s the opportunity for a kind gesture.
3. Locally roasted and tent-brewed, from mid-Ontario onwards.
The summer has kicked in. The sun is beating our pale backs as we sweat through our lycra within 30 minutes of setting off. We wake up to a drenched tent and spend our evenings calculating the position of sunrise in order to keep our home in shadows as long as possible. Every rest-stop starts with a desperate search for shade, then a hunt for ice, and culminates in lying down, flat-backed, anywhere that will support us.
The need for hibernation is over. No longer are we forced into chain coffee-shops just to strip off soggy waterproofs, to shelter from pelting wind and rain, and to warm our bones through mugs of burned caffeine water. Soon, we will want to shelter inside these very same places due to their offer of air-conditioning. But the sweet spot at the start of summer is when we just want to be outside, constantly.
Our ideal rest-stop locations go from busy towns with warm interiors to quiet spots by swimmable bodies of water. Precisely the sort of places where no coffee is served. Along with the change in weather came the opening of campsites, where we had previously been able to spend the night for free; so we were also spending more time away from civilisation, in hidden camping spots. Again, precisely the sort of places where no coffee is served.
And thus we bought one of the most precious and useful items acquired over the whole trip: a portable French press. The most ingenious invention for those of us who struggle with space and weight when considering a full-on coffee-maker, for the campers who need more than one cup at a time (I’m looking at you, AeroPress), for the cyclists on a budget. This wonderful invention is a portable coffee flask, but the lid is attached to a cafetière-style infuser. Pour in boiling water, press it, and drink straight from the flask. Ahhh!
We enjoyed the profits of our decision immediately — another advantage to making our own coffee every day was the ability to purchase and support local, independent coffee roasters along our route.
The day after we bought it, we sat outside our tent sipping coffee roasted less than a kilometre away, watching the sun rise over a dewey field. The pink of the sky illuminating blue-tinged clouds, nothing but the sounds of crickets and satisfied sips and sighs. Moments of pure stillness and quiet are not rare when cycle touring, but they are still diamonds. Appreciated and embraced they remind you why you’re there, a spiritual connection between your body and the nature you are riding through. The feeling of the grass underneath becomes the wind brushing the reeds and caressing your face as you ride. The rustling of the trees above your still head becomes that afternoon’s breeze through your hair. The sips of coffee you take in become your fuel and your warmth through the mid-morning lull.
