Smiles, Not Miles - Why Cycling Avoids Tribalism.

It’s a late autumn Sunday morning. The air is cold and crisp. The wind’s up and the leaves are tumbling from the trees. And I’m out, on my bike, riding the beautiful country lanes of Worcestershire.

I’m heading towards my favourite café, Springridge Nurseries, Crowle. I love it there. The coffee and walnut cake is something else, and the quality of the coffee they serve up is amazing. It’s a real haunt for cyclists. You get riders coming from all directions, those rolling down from Birmingham, about 30 miles north, and others pedalling up from Cheltenham, around 30 miles south.

And then there are all the local cyclists, different clubs, different jerseys, different colours, all converging on the same café. You’ll see them chatting away, one table to another, club to club, everyone sharing the camaraderie and that shared sense of identity that comes with cycling.

There is a great deal of political division in the country at present. This got me thinking, how is it that all these groups, all wearing different colours and representing different clubs, can come together without a trace of tribalism? You don’t see that in other sports. Football supporters don’t mix like that. So why does cycling create this kind of unity?

Maybe it’s the shared experience of being out there on the road, facing the elements, dealing with the same hazards. Maybe it’s the mutual respect for anyone who knows what it’s like to grind up a steep hill or battle a headwind. Or perhaps it’s just that cyclists love to share, stories from the road, advice about kit, comparisons of bikes, stats, miles, watts, calories. A friendly bit of one-upmanship mixed with genuine encouragement.

But I think it’s more than that. There’s something deeper. You’ll often see a cyclist stopped with a puncture or a mechanical problem, and almost without fail, another rider will pull over to help. They don’t know each other, they might never meet again, but there’s that instant bond, “you’re one of us.” Personally, I don't see this as tribalism. You can belong to a group, identify with like-minded people, but it can be done without an element of tribalism.

I’ve experienced it myself. I once had a mechanical issue on a country lane and was staring down the barrel of a ten mile walk home when a car pulled over. A fellow cyclist jumped out, asked if I was all right, and when I explained, he said, “No problem. We’ll sort this.” He took the wheels off his own bike to make more room, rearranged things in the back of his car, and gave me a lift home. A complete stranger, helping just because I was another person on two wheels.

For all the anti-cycling rhetoric you see in the press, that kind of behaviour is so often overlooked. There’s a real sense of belonging among people who ride. And that extends beyond bicycles too, there’s a sort of healthy banter between cyclists and motorcyclists. I’ve had a biker mimic pedalling as he went past, so when I caught up with him at the lights, I mimed twisting the throttle. He laughed, gave me a fist pump, and off we both went. Just a moment of mutual respect, two people who love being on two wheels.

Psychology really interests me, especially the question of identity. Do I see myself as a cyclist? Yes and no. I’m a cyclist because I ride bikes, sometimes geared, sometimes single speed, sometimes gravel. I ride on road, off road, and anywhere in between. But I’m not really into the whole kit and team thing. I’ve got a few fun jerseys, a Marmite one, a baked beans one, a few colourful ones that make people smile. They’re great conversation starters with strangers. There are also lots of times when I ride in ordinary clothes. I might be commuting to the office or riding between interviews. I'm still a cyclist but a plain clothes one. Does it change my identity? Absolutely not. I'm just me. The joy I feel for being out on two wheels, well I just want to pass that joy onto others that I meet.

And that’s the thing, most cyclists are friendly. We wave, nod, stop to chat, and help each other out. There’s no tribalism. We share the road and the experience. Sure, cycling has its fanatics, passionate supporters of teams and the Tour de France crowd, but that’s not me. I don’t watch any racing, it doesn't interest me. I just love being outside, feeling the fresh air, meeting people, saying hello to walkers and dog owners, giving a cheery wave to horse riders as I pass. I'm happy just being on my bike and if I can make somebody else smile, then I regard that as a great ride!

That’s what I love most about cycling, it brings people together. No colours, no rivalry, no tribalism. Just a shared respect for the ride and for one another.

For me, it’s not about miles. It’s about smiles.