Messrs. Frigswell and Digby Caesar-Salad Esq. of West Kunting do the “Blue Steel”. Even the hunting hounds back then had stiff upper muzzles.
Why does everyone from n00b commuters to weekend warriors feel the necessity to tear along shared paths and roads as if they’re racing for sheep stations? Folks, calm down and enjoy the ride. The PB attempt can come later, at a more appropriate venue like the Hawthorn Mellowdrome, Biatch Road or a local crit. Here’s a tip:
BikeRadar: The Wave: I’ve been a practitioner and evangelist of The Wave for years now. It’s simple, really: when one is riding on the road or trail, and another cyclist is coming toward you, simply raise your eyes, lift your left hand, spread your fingers like a Geisha’s fan, then smile like Tom Boonen winning a Spring Classic, and wave.
Voila, a connection made and a favourable impression sent. This simple nonverbal act conveys the message “Hey, man, have fun on your ride. Isn’t it great to be a cyclist today?” Such a simple act goes a long way to encourage others, despite the machismo image the bicycle industry is desperately trying to overcome these days.
Not a novel or unique concept, as some people may recall the Waving Wednesday attempt at cyclist behaviour modification in the late 1990’s.
What qualifies as a wave?
A wave ‘counts’ when you move your hand back and forth at least 3 times. Nodding or saluting do not count - those salutations can find their own darn days.
Do I really have to do this?
Yes, you have to.
So is there any historical background for the cyclist scowl and taking oneself too seriously?
In the 19th century, bicyclists took their clothing seriously. Light weight leather shoes, long stockings, knickers tight around the thighs, ruffled shirt and tie, brass-buttoned coat with a small collar, and pith helmet or short-billed cap.
All without a smile. One of the hardest things to master when learning to ride an old-fashioned, high-wheel bike is the wearing of a solemn countenance. The world all around you will grin unashamedly at the sight of you and your ordinary gliding majestically along the road. But you must not smile. That wouldn’t be authentic.Or would it?
None of the old photographs show smiling bicyclists - nor anybody else smiling, for that matter. And for good reason. In the 19th century, photographic emulsions were so slow, that subjects were commonly required to hold rigid poses for upwards of a minute. Just try to maintain a genuine-looking smile for that long.
We’ve got digital cameras and all manner of dooverlackies even built into our mobile phones in this glittering modern age, so the above explanation is no longer a valid excuse. Maybe the tendency to scowl is stuck in our collective conciousness or ancestral memory?
Should I wait until next week to launch this experiment upon Melbournes perpetually scowling cyclists or wiggle around like a twept at this weekends Cyclovia? Or just attempt the low key laconical yeah how are ya? good? muttered greeting if one can be arsed turning up for the Melburn-Roobaix?
