The Look Company, of France, introduced the first truly clipless pedal in 1984. I think I first heard of them sometime in 1985. Shortly after that, I took the plunge. (Quite literally!) I went over to my friends in Richardson, and asked about these new pedals. In less than a half hour I was the proud owner of a new pair of Italian shoes, and a pair odd looking pedals. I’d also had the benefit of about five minutes of instruction.
“You have to twist your foot to get out of them,” my young mechanic friend said. “Once you’re in, you’re locked in. You won’t be able to pull your foot out.”
“Are you using these things?” I asked.
My friend shuddered, and said, “No way! I think they’re dangerous, but lots of our customers love them.”
Back in those days, the clipless technology was new. There weren’t a lot of people around who could tell you about the various pitfalls. So I had to learn on my own.
I removed the toeclip pedals from my venerable bike, installed the new Looks, then bolted the cleats to my new shoes, and kitted up for a ride.
As I stood, straddling the bike, I had my first difficulty. I had a hard time getting my left foot engaged in the pedal. That should have been a warning, but I ignored it. I pushed off, and then tried to engage my right foot in the other pedal. I didn’t get it hooked in. The bike lost speed as I tried. I had to pump it up with the left foot, the right flailing away at that pedal. Eventually, more by chance than design, the right foot clicked in. “Ah-HA! I’m getting the hang of these now,” I thought.
I did notice an improvement in my power transfer. I also noticed an almost immediate burning sensation in leg muscles that I didn’t know I had. Interesting.
I rode along for a bit, and then found myself approaching an intersection. It was a large intersection, one controlled by a traffic light. The light was red my way, and it would have been instant death to attempt running it.
“Twist your foot,” I said to myself as I slowed the bike. I promptly fell over on my side. My foot hadn’t come out of the pedal.
It took me about three changes of the traffic light to get untangled and re-mounted. During that time, several passersby stopped to ask if I was in need of help.
As soon as I got going, the thought occurred to me, “I better get off of busy streets and figure these things out.” I suited action to words. Inside a low traffic neighborhood, I made my first attempt at a controlled pedal release. I discovered that releasing my foot took a good bit more authority on that pedal twist. But I did manage to get unhooked. I practiced a couple of stops, anticipating the event, and telling myself, “Heel out! Heel out!” as I approached them. Five or six attempts, with good positive releases, and fumbled re-engagements were enough to convince me that I had this figured out. So…
Out of the side street, and back toward that same busy intersection. Once again the light was red my way. No problem! I unhooked my right foot, only to have the bike start leaning to the left. I went down in a heap, my right leg waving in the air.
Hmm. This was going to be a bit more difficult than I thought…
Let’s fast forward a bit. In between slapstick falls, my skills with clipless pedals did improve a bit. I got into mountain biking. I adopted the Shimano SPD pedals for my mountain bike. And… Due to some circumstances, I stopped riding off road for a time.
Came a chilly Winter day. I was due to take a long ride with a new friend of mine. I had mounted slicks on the mountain bike, as the old road bike was down for maintenance, so… I took the mountain bike out.
My friend looked a bit askance at the bike I was riding. He had some particular questions about those clipless pedals, and voiced some skepticism. I offered my enthusiastic approval of the pedals.
Well into the ride, we came to a turn we weren’t sure of. I volunteered to ride ahead and check to see if one road was the one we wanted, or the dead end I thought it was. My friend stayed put at the fork, packing his jacket and eating a snack. I got about two hundred yards down the street, still well in sight of my riding companion, when I realized that, this wasn’t the correct route. I had a flash of playful inspiration.
I wheeled my bike (something I had only lately mastered) and turned sharply around, dropping the wheel to the ground after completing the turn. I rode back to my waiting companion, brought the bike to a nice brisk stop, and… Promptly fell over. Classic. A flailing away all the way to the ground, clipless pedal fall.
It was on that day that I had the epiphany. You know? I should really practice with these things! (I know. It’s a novel concept, right?)
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