Just don't call me late for supper

Presumably, this sign also includes Chris Bruntlett!

Just Don’t Call Me Late for Supper!

Chris Bruntlett is a pretty good guy. If you don’t believe me, just ask him. He’ll tell you!

To be honest, I don’t know him. I’ve just read a few of his blog posts, one of which is called “I Am Not a Cyclist.” I’ve read it through a couple of times, and I’m still not quite sure what he is trying to say.

I do know that he favours extreme language. He despises being called “a cyclist.”

He always does this and he never does that, this meaning all the good things “cyclists” fail to do and that meaning the bad things “cyclists” inevitably do.

He believes that his polite, dignified behaviour makes him a minority (I’m guessing a minority of one) and sets him apart as something other than a “cyclist.”

Clearly, I am not as good a person as Mr. Bruntlett, but that doesn’t make me feel too bad, since I am pretty sure no one else is either.

And I don’t mind if people call me a cyclist. A cyclist, according to the Cambridge English Dictionary (as well as every other dictionary I consulted) simply means “a person who rides a bicycle.” By definition, as soon as you hop on a bike and begin to pedal, you are a cyclist. Like it or not.

Mr. Bruntlett attempts an analogy: if he uses a vacuum cleaner, it doesn’t make him a janitor. If he flosses his teeth, people won’t call him a dental hygienist. But this is a flawed analogy; the terms “janitor” and “dental hygienist” have specific definitions. (In case you are wondering, those definitions are not “a person who uses a vacuum cleaner” and “a person who flosses his or her teeth”!)

Many monikers have stereotypes. Think of “librarian.” Chances are you pictured a slim woman with her hair pulled back and wearing glasses. Engineer – good at math; terrible at English. What about “lawyer”? Can you imagine how absurd it would be if everyone who didn’t like the traditional stereotypes conjured up by their job titles, for example, refused to let people call them that?

Cyclist happens to be the universally accepted English-language name for people who ride bicycles. The fact that it has certain connotations, some of which might be negative, doesn’t mean we can deny that this is what we are and demand that people stop referring to us by this name.

It’s almost as if Mr. Bruntlett fancies himself royalty or at least someone entitled to special treatment.

Hmm, now that I think about it, it seems like he does. He appears to think that because his behaviour while perched atop a bicycle seat is so exemplary, he deserves to be called by a special name, possibly “someone who often uses a bicycle.” But even his bike is not just any bicycle. No, his is a bicycle that reflects his personality and style. And the casual observer can probably distinguish him from other people who often use bicycles by the fact that he is riding with grace, elegance and dignity, while others around him occasionally ride fast or forget to signal or hop on the sidewalk for a meter or two to avoid a hazardous situation.

It seems I for one would make Bruntlett’s blacklist on a number of counts.

First of all, I like to ride fast. My bike is not only a way to get from Point A to Point B, but it is a fitness tool. By working hard and riding fast when I have the chance, I maximize the exercise benefits of bicycle commuting or running errands by bike. As a result, I am strong and fit and riding fast comes naturally. Riding fast does not preclude riding carefully, and when it’s necessary I slow down, but my preference is to go at a good clip and give myself a bit of a workout.

This leads to the second thing: sometimes I work up a sweat. It’s hard not to when the temperature is 28C and my cadence is 80-90 rpms. Bad, bad, bad. Sweat is bad. Hmm... funny how this recent article about exercise seems to say that working up a sweat is desirable.

Thirdly, I ride my bike almost everywhere, all year round. This means it is not always practical to simply hop on wearing nothing but my work outfit. If it’s raining, I wear my MEC (ooh, another bad word, according toMr. Bruntlett) Adanac waterproof tights over my regular tights or work pants. Sometimes I pack my skirt instead of wearing it, to keep it clean and dry. When I am going for a long ride in the country or in the River Valley, I often clad myself in “cycle wear” – spandex jersey and padded shorts. Even – horror of horrors – clip-in shoes. For me, comfort rules, even if being comfortable means I look like a cyclist.

Fourth on my list of Bruntlett no-nos: I usually wear a helmet. I don’t exactly make a practice of falling, but I know it is a possibility. Once last September, before I had my studded tires on my bike, I rounded a corner, slid on a patch of hidden ice and was on the ground before I knew what had happened. I hit my head and was shaken-up but not injured, thanks to my helmet.

Wow, lots of negatives, eh? Here is the fifth: in the winter, when I ride to work in the dark, I wear a reflective sash over my winter coat. Why not? It didn’t cost me much, it is easy to slip on, and it adds to my visibility. Of course I have lights as well, but I figure the extra stripe of reflective material doesn’t hurt.

Onto number six: I frequently share the road with motor vehicles. This is not my preference, but in Edmonton, it is often a necessity. The other option might be to ride on the sidewalk, and guess what? Number seven: I do that occasionally too,  for example, when the road on a marked bicycle route has not been cleared of ice and snow.

It makes me sad that someone like Chris Bruntlett, who obviously considers himself a leader in the "someone who sometimes rides a bicycle" realm, is spouting off about something so trivial. Rather than encouraging people to ride and talking about the benefits of riding, here he is, like a nine year old on the playground, complaining that people call him names he doesn't like.

I think I should score some points with nay-sayers for being polite, cheerful and friendly when I ride. I try to make eye contact with drivers and give them a grateful nod or wave when they yield to me. I say good morning to my fellow people who ride bicycles and ring my bell when passing pedestrians.

But I am fully cognizant of the fact that no matter how I feel about myself, when I’m riding a bike, I am and always will be a cyclist. You can call me a biker; you can call me a bicycle commuter; you can call me a cyclist. I don’t really care. Just don’t call me late for supper! Because, with the amount of riding I do and the number of calories I burn, I am usually ravenously hungry at about 6:00 PM.