Thoughts on the ‘greeting madness’: ‘Don’t say hello to me, and I won’t say hello to you!’

For me, cycling is meditation. Switching off. A digital detox. Finally, no barrage of words, no flickering screens, no to-do lists and none of that multitasking rubbish that frays the fabric of everyday life and numbs the brain.

For me, cycling is also an auditory detox, which is why I ride without music in my ears. I don’t want to hear anything – except the blackcap and the skylark, the soft hiss of my carbon wheels and the rush of the wind in my ears. Ideally, I’d close my eyes and breathe deeply in and out.

That’s why I love gravel bikes: turning off into the woods and taking the forest track instead of the road used by road cyclists. Everything’s fine, you might think, but at some point every forest track comes to an end and I have to ride where everyone else is riding.

That’s where they’re lying in wait for me. Because as soon as the handlebars are bent outwards a little and the tyres are slightly thicker, you’re already part of a close-knit community.

>> Thoughts on World Bicycle Day: A wave as a gesture of togetherness

The formula: handlebar flare + tyre tread = best buddy

In other words: you wave to one another. During a ‘fly-by’, the fingers on the brake lever flare outwards. Or at least one finger does: gravel riders wave to other gravel riders.

And that’s when the stress kicks in, because I crave harmony. Not returning a greeting is a slap in the face. It’s a proper pain. Arrogant. Totally unacceptable. It kills the vibe. And the karma. Aura 2000 turns into Aura Zero. That goes both ways. If you say hello and don’t get a reply, it’s a real downer. Full stop. But if oncoming traffic waves and you can’t get your fingers out fast enough, you feel just as rubbish, because you don’t want to be a arsehole.

Does this greeting really have to happen? On sandy tracks in Mongolia or gravel tracks in the Atacama Desert, I might put up with it, but in Munich-Fürstenried? Seriously?

What should I do? Greet everyone, regardless of whether they return the greeting or not? Or just return greetings? But those often come at the last moment or are barely noticeable. Instead of gliding along freely and cheerfully, I scrutinise the oncoming cyclists – more than that: I scan them! Because: I need to work out whether it’s a road bike or a gravel bike, with handlebar flares or none at all? The humiliation would be devastating if I accidentally greeted a ‘roady’ who didn’t return the greeting. The ‘narrow-track’ crowd looks down on us gravel riders as if we were rollerbladers, recumbent cyclists or mountain bikers in disguise. Or spineless fashion victims who only ride gravel bikes because it’s trendy.

Constant sprinting isn’t the answer!

No, saying hello to everyone isn’t the answer. So, as an alternative to this greeting nightmare, I just grin. I grin and hope that counts as a general greeting. But the whole grinning thing comes across as a bit daft.

That’s why I stand up on the pedals when someone’s coming towards me. If you’re sprinting, you can’t wave – everyone understands that. But sprinting non-stop is too tiring. My next strategy: stop saying hello. To hell with harmony. What’s with this greeting mania?! Just like in the 1980s, when anyone with a windsurf board on their car roof would flash their headlights the moment they spotted another windsurfer. At one point, one in every three German households had a windsurf board, and the flashing of headlights on German roads stopped again. Only motorcyclists still wave – and even more insistently. Back when I was a motorcyclist, I decided: my hands stay on the handlebars of my Yamaha. The reasoning: safety first! But a gravel rider’s hands grip the brake levers like pliers, so the fingers can be opened out safely. You don’t even have to stretch your arm out to the side like you do when waving on a motorbike. Never mind. My mind is made up: no more waving!

Problem solved? No. Just the other day, a gravel-riding Snow White actually came racing towards me, with a beaming smile beneath some stylish XXL glasses. The beauty held out her slender fingers towards me. And before I knew it, whether I wanted to or not, my fingers shot outwards in the gravel rider’s greeting.
Oh no, friends, as you can see: the stress continues!

So please, hear my plea: can’t we all just stop this daft custom at once?

My plea: If you don’t say hello to me, I won’t say hello to you!

NOTE: In a second article, editors Sandra and Marc share their views on consideration and kindness on the bike.

You might also be interested in

+ Gravel micro-adventures, with or without a greeting
+ An interview with gravel queen Wiebke Luhmann
+ Review of a test winner: a guide to buying a gravel bike