Cycling alone is meditative. Cycling in a group, done well, is transport and theatre: faster for the same effort, tidier through the wind, and full of small negotiations that make you feel part of something. Done badly, it’s a rolling argument with brakes and egos. This review covers the why, the how, and the don’ts of drafting and group riding so you can keep the free speed and bin the drama.

Why bother with a group?

Because air is your real opponent. Sit a wheel’s length behind someone and the air your mate has already bullied out of the way becomes your shelter. You hold the same pace for less effort, or more pace for the same effort. Over an hour, that’s the difference between chatting and chewing the bar tape. Groups also smooth wind on open roads and share the psychological load: the ride feels shorter when the work rotates.

The positions that matter

On a wheel (the default): Front quick-release roughly level with the rider ahead’s rear axle. Look through their elbows to the road, not at their tyre. Half a wheel to the windward side gives a pinch more shelter.

Two-abreast: Legal where safe in the UK and often safer; you’re more visible, you shorten the snake, and you can chat. Keep bars level, don’t surge.

Paceline (single file through-and-off): The pointy end takes the wind for a short pull, then drifts off to the windward side and back. The next rider comes through smoothly, not heroically. Think metronome, not sprint relay.

Echelon (crosswinds): In a side wind, the shelter sits diagonally behind and leeward of the rider in front. Space is limited; be courteous with turns and keep the formation shallow enough to stay in your lane.

Etiquette that keeps everyone friends

Call hazards early and clearly. “Hole left”, “car back”, “gravel”, “slowing”. Point if safe, but voice first. The best groups sound like a calm pilot.

Hold your line, hold your speed. No sudden braking; ease by soft-pedalling or letting the wind catch you for a second.

Short, honest turns. Thirty seconds when it’s block-headwind might be plenty. If you’re gassed, skip a pull; nobody’s counting medals.

Regroup rules. Top of climbs or after junctions: call a soft pedal for 30–60 seconds. Dropping riders without warning is how clubs become WhatsApp tribunals.

Traffic manners. Stop at reds. Don’t swarm cars at junctions. Wave thanks when drivers are patient. We’re ambassadors in Lycra whether we like it or not.

Common mistakes (and the fix)

The concertina. Surging on the front then sitting up detonates the group behind. Fix: keep the effort, not the speed, constant; on rises, increase power briefly to maintain speed without yo-yoing.

Half-wheeling. Riding half a wheel ahead of your partner forces them to creep up. It’s a passive-aggressive time trial. Fix: line your bars, use the windward side if you need a tad more load.

Glued to the tyre. Staring at rubber equals late braking and twitchy lines. Fix: look through shoulders, soften hands, keep light pressure on the pedals even when easing.

Hero pulls. Dragging for two minutes in a crosswind then swinging off cooked creates gaps. Fix: shorter turns; the group’s speed is the average of everyone’s best behaviour.

How to rotate without carnage

Through-and-off 101: Front rider does a smooth pull, checks over the windward shoulder, then drifts out half a metre and eases just enough for the line to come past. They slot in at the back. The next rider steps up a fraction, not a leap. The whole thing should feel like a moving escalator, not a flurry of box jumps. In a light tailwind, keep pulls shorter (speed is high; effort can spike). In a block headwind, keep them short to avoid the martyrdom effect.

Hills, descents, and wet days

Climbs: Climbing speeds spread abilities. Strong climbers should cap power and sit a gear lower than they fancy. If the group policy is “regroup at the top”, mean it—don’t roll over the brow and vanish.

Descents: The confident should descend last to avoid pushing others beyond their comfort. Front riders call corners and hazards; no aero-tucking in a bunch; leave real gaps for braking.

Rain: Double the gaps, halve the ambition. Painted lines are ice, rim brakes stretch stopping distances, and visibility is poorer for everyone. Pacelines become gentle; cornering becomes round, not square.

When pace lines aren’t appropriate

Narrow lanes with parked cars, blind bends, village centres, busy A-roads: single out early, ride defensively, and keep chatter to radio checks only. Free speed never trumps safety.

Mixed-ability social rides: If half the group has never rotated, treat the day as tuition, not a chain-gang audition. Two-abreast with occasional short rotations on straight, open sections is plenty.

Simple club drills that work

Through-and-off on a quiet road: Two lines, 5–10 seconds pulls, no surges. Start at 28–30 km/h, talk throughout.

Echelon practice on a wide, empty stretch: Light crosswind day, rotate positions every minute. The goal is smooth shelter, not speed.

Lead-out practice for sprints (end of ride, safe road): 15–20-second pulls building to a 10-second sprint from the last rider. Teaches timing and discipline.

Kit and bikes (briefly, without the shopping list)

You don’t need special equipment beyond reliable brakes, tyres in good nick, and a bell for towpaths. Mudguards in winter are civilised. Lights in dusk/dawn make you look like someone who plans ahead. That’s it.

The spirit of the thing

A good group ride feels like a conversation: everyone speaks, nobody shouts, and you arrive home both pleasantly tired and oddly restored. If you’re new, tell the ride leader at the start; if you’re experienced, mentor with patience. Drafting is a privilege shared, not a loophole exploited. Get the small courtesies right and the “free speed” becomes the least interesting benefit.

Verdict: Group riding is a social contract with aerodynamic perks. Keep the lines smooth, the calls clear, and the turns short, and you’ll finish fresher, faster, and welcome on any wheel.

James