The Fixed Gear/Single-Speed Philosophy | Passion Projects | Education | 57451

Life Lessons Learned from Pedalling Without Gears

I’ve often been asked why I ride a fixed gear or a single-speed bike when the world is overflowing with options—multi-geared road bikes, carbon frames, electric assist cycles, and every shiny upgrade you can imagine. People wonder: why strip cycling down to its bones? Why make it harder?

But the truth is, cycling without gears isn’t about making things harder. It’s about making them clearer. And clarity, I’ve learned, is one of the rarest gifts you can give yourself in a world that constantly drowns you in choices, numbers, and noise.

When I push on my pedals, there is no escape route. No downshift to make the climb easier, no click of a derailleur to bail me out. The gear is the gear, the road is the road, and I am left to wrestle with both until one of us bends. More often than not, it’s me who bends, but in that bending, I grow.

The Fixed Gear Mindset: 48×17t

My fixed gear, locked into a 48×17t ratio, is the closest thing I know to discipline on two wheels. At this gearing, every pedal stroke demands respect. On the flats, it feels fast, alive—like the bike was meant to cut through air at this cadence, this resistance. On descents, it tests me, because my legs are not allowed to rest; they must spin with gravity, finding rhythm in chaos. On climbs, the 48×17t reminds me of my limits. It doesn’t forgive laziness. It doesn’t let me slip into comfort. It simply asks: are you strong enough today?

That’s what I love most about the fixie: it mirrors life. In life, just like on a fixed gear, there are no freewheels. You can’t coast through heartbreak, through exhaustion, through work. You have to keep your legs moving, even when you feel like giving up. And the faster you adapt, the smoother the ride feels.

The 48×17t gear ratio, for me, is balance—speed, control, and power woven into a single rhythm. It’s the gear that reminds me I can’t rush through life without effort, but I also can’t crawl; I must commit to the cadence I’ve chosen and make peace with it.

The Single-Speed Flow: 48×18t

But then there are days I choose my single-speed with a 48×18t. To outsiders, the difference seems tiny—a single tooth on the cog. But for me, it’s the difference between war and conversation.

The 48×18t is slightly softer, slightly more forgiving. It allows me to pause for a second after a sprint, to coast downhill without my legs flailing, to corner without fearing a pedal strike. It’s less rigid than the fixed gear, but still rooted in simplicity. On this bike, I can breathe differently. I can ride long delivery shifts during Ramadan and still have something left inside me when the day ends.

The single-speed whispers: rest is also strength. It teaches me moderation, balance, and grace. It’s not about proving myself every second, but about enduring every kilometre. When I’m out delivering food, tracking my rides on Strava, or logging another 45 km in the rain, the 48×18t is my companion—steady, reliable, unpretentious. It lets me go fast when I want, but also lets me live in the in-betweens.

What My Bike Says About Me

When I look at my bike, I see a reflection of who I am—and maybe who I’m still trying to become.

The fixed gear says I’m stubborn, that I value rawness and honesty over shortcuts. It says I’m willing to fight for progress, to embrace discomfort as a teacher, and to keep my cadence even when the world tries to push me off rhythm. It says I’m chasing clarity, not convenience.

The single-speed says I’m human, that I know when to let go, when to coast, when to allow myself softness. It says I’m not only about discipline and grit, but also about balance, longevity, and compassion toward my own body.

Together, they remind me that life isn’t about choosing between difficulty and ease. It’s about knowing when to tighten your chain and when to loosen it. When to demand everything from yourself, and when to forgive yourself.

The Lessons on the Road

Every ride is a classroom, and these are some of the lessons my bike have carved into me:

• Simplicity is power. Without gears, there are fewer distractions, fewer excuses. You’re left with the basics—your legs, your breath, your willpower. Sometimes, stripping life down to its essentials is how you discover what you’re really made of.

• Consistency beats shortcuts. A fixed gear never lies. If you skip rides, if you slack off, your body will tell the truth when you try to push those pedals. Progress comes from showing up, not from finding an easier gear.

• Balance matters. You can’t ride in 48×17t every day. Sometimes you need the 48×18t, just as in life you need rest, forgiveness, and gentleness. A relentless grind without reprieve leads to burnout.

• Presence is everything. On a fixie, you can’t daydream too far or you’ll catch a pedal. On a single-speed, you still need to read the road and feel the rhythm. Both gear ratios teach me to be here now. Every moment matters, every stroke counts.

So, why do I ride without gears? Because every ride is a reminder that life isn’t about having every option—it’s about making the most of the one you’ve chosen.

The fixed gear teaches me to endure.
The single-speed teaches me to flow.
Both teach me to live.

My 48×17t and 48×18t setups may just look like numbers, but they are my philosophies, my companions, my truths on two wheels.

And if you ever see me pedalling down the streets of Chittagong or outside the city, know this: I’m not just riding a bike. I’m riding a mirror of myself.