On my ride yesterday I passed a woman by the side of the road. It happens. They are, after all, half the human race.
By all appearances she had just finished a run. No matter, I'll talk to anyone if the opportunity presents itself: even non-cyclists.
I said this: "The roads around here." My full meaning, from one road user to another, was along the lines of "The roads sure are terrible, aren't they?", the context being the appalling stretch of tarmac I had just picked a careful line through.
She looked up, uncertain why I was talking to her. I noticed she appeared to be wearing headphones. She was also a bit younger than I'd first thought, maybe late teens or early 20s. She said "Pardon?"
I don't remember exactly how I replied, only that I hadn't meant to alarm her. She sort of smiled and that was that.
Except that wasn't that. I immediately mentally kicked myself for having disturbed her, on whatever level. That half smile could have meant anything from "You're so right, the bloody council, what are they like?" to "[Smile placates strange man.]"
It's normally fine to chat to people, half the human race included, on these chance encounters. But it's easy to forget, particularly when you're a man, that you should choose your moments carefully.
Example 1: Woman walking dog. Say "Hello!" to announce myself as a passing cyclist (I don't favour bells for this purpose: a little too pushy, despite the seemingly cheery
Ring-ring!) A
Hello! is always appreciated, judging by how often I'm thanked. The sex of the person never comes into it, other than perhaps a split second as they quickly grok the situation.
Example 2: The scenario presented above. It's unclear why this stranger is suddenly talking to you. While it can be cleared up quickly, it can just as quickly get awkward. Chalk up what they call a teachable moment in a lifetime of them. Every day is school day.
A Guardian letter a few years ago:
Men must learn how to make women feel safe while exercisingIt is unbelievable that Chris Boardman’s words can be so basic and obvious to female athletes and yet still so needed by men (Calling all men: this is what we can do to help women feel safe exercising in the dark, 30 October). Exercising solo, especially at night, is often a different experience for the two. One day last year I was cycling along the (very wide) Forth and Clyde canal; my fitness was great and I had a fine tailwind. I passed a man who had been dawdling, when suddenly he sped up and started slipstreaming me, within a couple of feet. This was in broad daylight, but the canal was empty.
I was worried in case he was somehow angered by me passing him, so I kept going for around 5km, after which my panic was really starting to interfere aerobically. I signalled that I was going to stop as he was so close to me, sat down on a bench and pulled out some food. He stopped too. “Thanks. I needed that,” he said, before asking me about the rest of my cycle. I refused to engage as I was recovering from the shock. A perfect example of how some men have no idea how intimidating their actions can be to women.
Look, I'm not some knight in shining armour on a mission to protect all womenkind. I'm just a guy offering advice to other guys who may not have given this stuff much thought before.
The road called to me after posting that. It was half three in the morning. While there are plenty of fearless women out there, it's doubtful most would even consider a solo night ride an option.