A common language? Your hobby, job, region etc. often have a common language. Sadly, modern language is filled with slang, anacronyms, abbreviations and emojis, but at least it is common. All except the emojis – what is up with that?
For example, in the past I worked in a Cardio-Pulmonary Rehabilitation Unit. This included the patient exercising under medical supervision to ensure safety. One day there was a patient on the treadmill; he was recently out of surgery and learning how to exercise safely. The length of exercise is usually short and terminated based on the individual’s tolerance to the stress of exercise. Everything is recorded on a chart. In those days the chart was paper. My boss stopped the exercise session and wrote on his chart, “exercise session terminated due to SOB.” The patient seemed upset and said, “I saw what you wrote.” She did not understand at first; but she is smart, so she quickly realized the language barrier. In the medical world, SOB is an abbreviation for ‘shortness of breath’. In the patient’s world, SOB meant something entirely different.
Language. It is radically important. As I said earlier – professions, hobbies, families, regions, governments all have their own language. When you are part of that particular community, you understand. It facilitates the transfer of information with speed and specificity. When you are outside of that community – or new to that community – it can sound like a foreign language. It is a foreign language.
We do this in cycling. Some of our language is cycling specific and is shared by the larger cycling community. Some of it is shared by a ‘sect’ of cyclists – the racers or the tourists or the BMX world. Some variations exist by region or club. When personal idiosyncrasies are added it creates another layer and can be confusing.
Yet another story in which I am directly involved. I was riding with Dr. Bob. Yes, he is a Medical Doctor. We rode regularly, and since he came to my town, I picked the route. During the ride, I would tell him where we would turn. One day he laughed and said, “I now understand your language.” At that moment I did not understand his language. He went on to say, “When we are going to take a turn on a road – you say, “we will turn on Libation Road.” When you say, “We are going to jump Libation Road, that means that we are going offroad for a bit”.
He was spot on.
The word jump was the key. If I said, “We are going to jump Libation Road,” it did mean that the road we were leaving and the road we were going to ride next did not ‘really’ connect, at least not for a motor vehicle. There was no option to turn onto it ‘normally,’ so often it was a short ride on a sidewalk, grass, median, parking lot or short trail that brought us from one road onto another road. Language. I was specific, but it was not common. Once he understood my terms, he also understood the specificity.
Poor guy. He is a roadie through and through. I enjoy the road but love the dirt. Mountain bike trails and dirt roads; anything as long as the pavement ends. Thus, I am not shy about ‘jumping’ another road. He tolerated this behavior because the ‘jumps’ were very short and connected great roads.
One day it all went ‘wrong.’ Quotes because it was OK for me, but not for him. For now, though, let’s hold that story until later. Let us stay on the topic of language and terms. Yes. I promise to relate the story next week.
Pre-ride talk. I often describe the route. Some things you need to know now, basics like if there are stores or water stops on the route, distance, and maybe speed. Often, I withhold information; not to be secretive, but some things are only ‘need to know.’ You understand? No need to talk about that big hill at mile 30 until you get close. No need to talk about that mean dog until you get close (well, not too close). No need to speak about textured roads until you get close.
Oh, sorry, another term of mine. When I tell you the road ahead is ‘textured,’ you may translate that to mean…definitely not ‘butter smooth.’ It might mean chip seal or some bumps, but it is going to be a road that you ‘feel.’ Not a bad road, but one that when you move from the ‘textured road’ to ‘butter smooth’ you just go – ahhhhh. You know the feeling; things get smooth and quiet. At that point you realize just how ‘textured’ the road you were on really was.
Other terms? I suspect I have some I use regularly of which I am not aware. Maybe my ride partners should have written this article. In the past you heard my terms for how we described a type of ride. Here are a few that describe things within a particular ride that I often use:
Butter Smooth. Used in a sentence, “This road is butter smooth.” Meaning, it is very smooth without bumps.
Bombed out. Used in a sentence, “The road ahead is bombed out, so use caution and stay alert.” Translated – there are potholes/broken pavement/rough sections prevalent enough to require strict focus and bike handling skills to stay safe.
Roll/Rolling/Rollers/incline. Used in a sentence, “the road ahead will roll some.” Meaning that there are hills ahead. Not mountains, but big enough hills that you will notice them.
Jump/jumping. Used in a sentence, “When we pass that bridge, we will jump Loop Road.” Which means, when we pass the bridge we will ride through the grass, then through the parking lot and then onto Loop Road. There is no option for a vehicle to turn onto Loop Road at this location, but we will do it anyway.
Texture/textured. Used in a sentence, “The rest of this road is a bit ‘textured’.” Translated – Although it is not a ‘bombed out’ road, it is also not ‘butter smooth’. You will certainly feel the road vibrations through your bike. Even if you have a fancy bike that ‘absorbs road vibrations.’ That vibration is also known as Suspension Losses (Jan Heine) or Impedance (Silca).
What terms do you use with your group that are not part of the larger cycling vocabulary?
