ego.istic.org

I've recently taken the revamped Are you a real cyclist? quiz by Rob Ainsley, whose Real Cycling blog is indeed grounded in the reality of commuting.

I scored a measly 38, but that's because I've never been on an organised ride (neither cross-country nor Critical Mass) or attempted a ford (not many of those on the way to work); I claim that these three things are about as far from real cycling as Land's End is from John O'Groats.

But the presence of these entries in the quiz is, to me, evidence of a false dichotomy between cycling-as-means and cycling-as-end.

One of the chief reasons to cycle to work (to the shops, to parties, &c.), besides the speed, cost, and convenience, is that it's more fun. When driving, you sit in your claustrophobic contraption, stiff, breathing stale air, and totally isolated from your fellows. On a bike, you get to whizz through the fresh air, laughing at the queueing motorists; you can choose whether to effortlessly cruise down the road or go as fast as you might; you can smile at passers-by, wave to friends, and even talk to them—more than once I've arranged lunch appointments while waiting at traffic lights.

After you've been enjoying all these benefits of cycling for a while, you start to feel like you might want to enjoy them even when you have no other reason to make a journey. Then you become a leisure cyclist.

Behind the title of Mr. Ainsley's blog is the idea that there are other kinds of cyclists, who spend all their time talking about gear ratios, wear garish lycra, or give up and go home if it starts raining. But behind the choice of questions in his quiz is the idea that real cyclists don't just commute, but also go on hundred-mile organised rides, go through every muddy puddle in sight, take their bikes with them on holiday, and actively campaign for cycling. Many of the real cyclists I know would disagree with where he puts the boundary.

I've written before about how cyclists treat you differently when you're on a bike depending on whether you're wearing normal clothes or cycling kit; it just happens that this tends to correspond to whether you're cycling-as-means or cycling-as-end. But most cyclists don't just do one or the other, they do both. Today, I'm sitting at home trying to work up some enthusiasm: it's been my first free, bright Sunday for months, and I feel I ought to get some miles in. But even if in the world of cycling-as-end I'm spending more time talking than doing, it's still the case that tomorrow morning I'll get up and cycle-as-means come rain or shine, and that's what makes me a real cyclist.