As cyclists, we have a long list of habits that tend to annoy everyone around us that isn’t on bikes. Drivers hate it when we ride side-by-side. Or when we slow-roll a stop sign in a group.
But I don’t want to talk about the war on cars. I want to talk about not pissing everyone else off. And, while riding two-up and rolling stop signs are defensible (and both are legal in different places), this habit is, in my opinion, indefensible.
When it comes to pissing off anyone and everyone outside of a vehicle, cyclists have one habit that stands out among the rest. “On your left!”
Customs and communication studies
Yes, what most of us think of as a polite communication to pedestrians, and some other riders, intended to keep everyone safe is, I think, one of the most annoying things we can do as a user group. The only worse strategy is shouting “On your left” then buzzing within inches of that persons shoulder, as if slowing down until a wider pass was a safer option.
Now, this is a custom that many of us have learned from other riders. That does not mean it is normal. It might feel normal when rolling along within a group, it might not even seem that loud. If you doubt me, skip your regular group ride next week and go for a walk along the route. Cyclists are really loud. Watch people’s reactions to the front few riders bellowing “On your LEFT” every time they approach a person.
After living just steps from a popular downtown multi-use / commuter path, and spending as much time on it on foot as on wheels, I can tell you the majority reaction is frustration. And when a group of roadies (or gravel grinders) flies by at the same speed as a souped up, sketchy “E-bike” with a throttle, it’s no wonder pedestrians don’t bother trying to sort us boastfully human powered idiots apart from the idiots on e-motos.
Not that yelling it quieter is much better. That just means you have to be that much closer to the person before they will hear your instruction. Which, in turn, means you will be flying right beside their shoulder when they do turn to see who is shouting directions at them on their casual stroll.
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Dysfunctional rude
As a safety measure, or, more accurately, attempt at crowd control, “On your left!” is also not particularly functional. There is a substantial portion of the population who, when shouted at, jump. And a good portion of those people will just hear “left” and jump left.
This isn’t a universal habit. While widespread, “On your left” is very much a regional tendency. Though one widespread enough to be spoofed by SNL. When I started riding in Edmonton, everyone had bells. Shouting at pedestrians and other humans using the trails was considered bizarre and rude. I left, I forgot, I returned and was quickly and brusquely reminded that, no matter what your intention, shouting at your fellow human is not normal and not a good way to make friends.
When I, again, left Edmonton, I quickly got so fed up with a local group ride (…all the local group rides) speeding along multi-use paths shouting at pedestrians. My frustration with this got so bad that I started showing up “late” to the ride so that I could skip most of the opening pedestrian-heavy kilometres on a busy multi-use path. Of course, I’m late for everything, so this was a convenient bit of synergy.
The good news is there are all kinds of fancy bells these days. The run from cheap and functional to stylish, handcrafted artisanal bells. Some of them you can even silence, so the rattling doesn’t bother you when you leave shared use paths to find solitude on a quiet country gravel road or remote trail.
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A plea to the trucks of the trail
So here’s my request. Or, requests. Get a bell. And, to borrow from one of Kristen Bell’s characters, slow the fork down. I don’t know you, but I’m going to guess you’re not a Tadej or even a Lance. You can take the risk that slowing down might drop you out of your training zone, or impact your average speed on Strava, if it makes everyone on the path safer.
Because that’s why us cyclists take the path, right? Because it’s so much more pleasant to not feel threatened by cars during every moment of a ride. To have just a few minutes of calm and ease where you don’t have to be hyper-vigilant about whether or not traffic seas you while you work your way out of the city on bike paths.
But guess what? That’s exactly why everyone else is on the path, too. As the fastest moving, most physically imposing trail users (on our bikes, in groups, at least. Not so much when we step off in our tap shoes), we have the choice and responsibility to treat other trail users with respect. Or to reproduce that dynamic, with slightly lower stakes, in a HIMYM style chain of dysfunction. Do we really want to be the trucks of the trail?