What does it mean to “ride with virtue”? It’s not about white-knuckling your handlebars and reciting Marcus Aurelius under your helmet (though I’m not judging if you do). It’s about something far simpler and yet, infinitely harder. It’s about the choices we make every time we throw a leg over the bike… and every time we step off it too.

 

We tend to think of virtue as lofty, an outdated word belonging to dusty philosophy books and saintly people with halos. But the Stoics thought differently. To them, virtue was practical. It was about living well in a turbulent world. Not perfectly of course, just well.

 

And if ever there was an environment to test your character, it’s the road.

 

 

The Road is Watching

Out on the road, every choice is magnified. Do you overtake the car that just cut you up… or let it go? Do you help the rider stranded with a flat in the rain… or pretend you didn’t see them?

 

I’ve been tested more times than I care to admit. Like the time in Germany after finishing the Women Riders World Relay when I accidentally filled my bike with diesel instead of petrol. I could feel the hot sting of embarrassment rising as I pushed the wheezing bike off the forecourt, praying no one noticed. But they did. And instead of mockery, the folks at the petrol station rallied round, offering tools, advice, even jokes at their own expense to ease my shame. Their small acts of kindness reminded me: virtue isn’t about never messing up — it’s about how we show up for each other when the inevitable happens.

 

Virtue is a Verb

In Stoicism, there are four cardinal virtues: wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance. Think of them as your riding companions:

 

• Wisdom helps you read the road ahead.
• Courage gets you back in the saddle after a crash or a crisis of confidence,
• Justice reminds you that the road is shared, not yours alone.
• Temperance stops you from cracking open the throttle just because you can.

 

But the key thing is, these aren’t abstract ideals. They’re habits. Choices. Like checking your mirrors before changing lanes, or slowing down when a kid runs after a football. It’s in these small, repeated actions that we build character.

 

On and Off the Bike

It’s easy to think riding with virtue ends when the kickstand goes down, but I’ve found the opposite to be true. The lessons I’ve learned on two wheels — patience, courage, humility — have a funny way of spilling into the rest of my life.

 

Take patience, for instance. On tours, leading a group of riders of wildly different experience levels, I discovered a whole new appreciation for it. You can’t rush someone finding their confidence on hairpin bends. Nor can you rush yourself when life puts your plans on a hairpin.

 

I’ll admit, I’ve not always been the picture of virtue. I’ve snapped at drivers, muttered under my breath at slow-moving caravans, and once gave a cheery wave to a car that cut me up — using all five fingers but meaning only one. But that’s the point. Virtue isn’t about perfection; it’s about noticing when you’ve strayed and gently steering yourself back.

 

Virtue as the Ultimate Gear

Riding teaches you quickly that you’re not invincible. You can’t control the weather, the traffic, or the potholes, but you can control your reactions. And there’s immense freedom in that.

 

The Stoics called this your prohairesis — your moral choice. You can’t choose what happens, but you can choose who you are in response. On the road, that might mean offering a nod of solidarity to a fellow rider or choosing not to rise to the bait of someone else’s bad mood. Off the road, it might mean holding space for a friend in need or speaking up when it counts.

 

Because ultimately, virtue isn’t for show. It’s not about appearing good — it’s about being good, even when no one’s watching. Especially then.

 

Keep Your Hands Light

So next time you ride, ask yourself: am I gripping too tightly — at the bars, at life? Can I ease my hold and ride with a little more grace? Virtue isn’t rigid; it’s flexible, like countersteering into a bend.

 

The truth is, we all wobble. We all get it wrong. But riding with virtue is about finding your balance again, and again, and again. Just like staying upright on two wheels.

 

So ride with wisdom, courage, justice, and temperance in your panniers. Because at the end of the day, the road reflects back the rider you are. And it’s never too late to choose who that will be. Take care.