Hell yeah, I rock a mirror!
HOW FORMER PRO TOM SOLADAY LEARNED TO LOVE THE ONE PIECE OF GEAR HE NEVER THOUGHT HE’D WEAR. AS TOLD TO CAITLIN GIDDINGS
II WAS A PROFESSIONAL BIKE RACER FOR 10 years before I retired at the end of 2017, so I’ve done my share of long training rides. I’d been noticing that more and more drivers are paying attention to their phones instead of the road. And it feels like it’s getting worse. I’ve had side mirrors hit me, I’ve had cars slam the brakes right in front of me. My wife and I are expecting our first kid this March, so my priorities are shifting and I feel less inclined to take risks.
Last year I stayed with a family in Austin, Texas, to train. The dad is in his 50s and rides with a mirror on his helmet. Mirrors of any kind are not something you find in the bike-racing crowd. It’s not ‘pro’. In professional cycling, it’s like, your bar tape is white, your shoes are white, you have to have shaved legs. But it was a revelation to ride with someone who knew that a car was about to pass without having to crane his neck to look – we could anticipate traffic with almost no effort, and it felt much safer. Suddenly, I was curious: Could I rock a mirror?
I added three options to my Amazon cart... and let them sit for two weeks. Part of me wasn’t ready to publicly display my apprehension of riding on open roads. And part of me still wanted to preserve my vanity. But practicality finally won out, and I clicked ‘buy’.
The first mirror I tried was a bar-end design that fit into my handlebar’s drop, but I didn’t like the fact that I had to take my eyes off the road completely to use it. So I switched to a sunglass-mounted model. On my first ride, I saw the benefits immediately: With a quick glance to my right, I could see approaching vehicles. Cars that previously went unheard and passed too close were now on my radar. If there wasn’t much of a shoulder to ride on and I needed to protect my space, I could slowly drift out and gauge how drivers were reacting to me. I could see whether they were slowing down, if they were moving over. I was always looking out for the driver who made no adjustment. Now that I could create enough room between myself and the shoulder, I had a space to move into when they got closer.
Wearing my mirror in public was another matter. The first time I did was at a charity event: there were a lot of recreational cyclists there, along with professionals, sponsors, and volunteers. As I rode up to the parking lot, I got nervous and tucked my sunglasses into my jersey so no one would see. After the ride got going, I took a deep breath and put them back on. The mirror was definitely a topic of conversation, but the majority thought it was a great idea.
Emboldened, I kept wearing it. Of course, not everyone was ready to let it go, especially competitive cyclists. I definitely got some teasing: “What’s next, a triathlon?” Or, “That’s going to start growing hair on your legs.” But soon, one guy asked me what brand of mirror I was using. Maybe six people I’ve ridden with so far have switched sunglasses with me so they can see what it’s all about. I haven’t heard anyone say they didn’t like it.
I used to think helmet mirrors were dorky. But as I transition toward dad life, I care less about what other people think (I’ve also started wearing cargo shorts and sandals) and more about staying safe. And I’m starting to feel a sense of solidarity with other mirror users. I wave at people who wear one, and I feel like part of the club. I’m even spreading the word by posting pictures of myself using it. Yeah, I know it’s not ‘pro’. But neither am I, anymore. And wearing a mirror on my sunglasses has changed the way I approach riding – for the better.