When is a racing game not a racing game? When there’s more joy to be had in pootling around enjoying the view
H
ere’s an admission: I am 37 years old and have never learned to drive. I tried once, in the summer of 2021, and during my second lesson my instructor asked me if I played a lot of video games. When I answered yes, he said, “I thought so,” in a tone that was very clearly not complimentary. Regrettably, it turns out that hundreds of hours spent mercilessly beating my friends and family at Mario Kart and causing vehicular chaos in Grand Theft Auto do not translate instantly to real-life driving skills and judgment. I love racing games precisely because they are unrealistic.
Because I still don’t have my licence, I ride my bike everywhere. It’s a giant orange monster of a thing, big enough for my two children to ride on the back, and it looks ridiculous. It makes me look ridiculous, next to the Lycra-clad middle-aged men on their carbon-fibre frames who zoom past me on the regular. It’s not something I could ever take out into the countryside or down some mountain trail. For that, once again, I must turn to video games.
There are surprisingly few games about cycling, but rather like my abiding love for virtual golf, I have developed a longstanding mini obsession with them nonetheless. One of my all-time favourite games is Lonely Mountains: Downhill, a mountain-biking game that has you performing extremely precise adjustments to your trajectory down increasingly treacherous mountains, soundtracked by minimalist nature sounds and the sound of your rider smacking into boulders. Knights and Bikes is another lovable cycling-based adventure with the vibe of a 1980s summer holiday, starring a couple of kids exploring an island on two wheels.
