Do you talk to your bike?

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Eribiste

Careful with that axle Eugene
Talk to my bike? Of course I do, it's perfectly natural! I have to talk to it very nicely to pursuade it to go up hills, otherwise it just stops.
 

Cyclist33

Guest
Location
Warrington
I know it sounds crazy, but I just can't help it! Every morning when I open the bike shed, I just have to say it, mainly aimed at my Claude Butler hybrid - "Hello gorgeous!" ;)

Do you talk to your bike? Or is it just me? :giggle:

I say goodnight to both my bikes and to my son's bike, every night. I also pet them after a ride!

I also commentate about them privately to myself while drinking alcohol.

Stu
 

Arjimlad

Tights of Cydonia
Location
South Glos
After a specially memorable or long event ride I might have been seen to pat the handlebars and say thank you to my lovely bike.

That's about it, even though I have become intimately acquainted with its bottom bracket and rear hub after stripping them down.

I should get similarly familiar with the headset - and I will, one day.
 

Kiwiavenger

im a little tea pot
my bikes get spoken at, and sometimes too but never talked with, its much like having a conversation with a brick wall!

i do give the roadie words of encouragement and call it my "baby" however its been out in worse conditions than the mountain bike!

they dont have names (yet) though
 
Oh and I never swear at the bikes, just the road/trail.

You do realize that's just the same as talking to it, just in reverse. You're obviously still ascribing a nice soft spot for your inanimate object :whistle:
 

Davidc

Guru
Location
Somerset UK
Ah but they don't disagree with you or interrupt you either;) .
Same here :whistle:

I'm not sure I talk to my bikes but probably since I talk to lots of things (especially to myself).

Talking to yourself is fine. The conversation always goes amicably with no disagreements or interruptions, and any of us doing it knows we're privileged to be talking to the most intelligent, nicest, most wonderful person in the world, ever.

Machines though? I know all bikes, especially mine, are wonderful, and that they need enormous amounts of care and attention (and money) lavished on them. But talking to them!

I have seen far worse though. People talking to their cars. I've even seen a driver consoling their car after scraping it. Now that's got to be real madness.
 
I don't talk to them, honest. We have names for 2 of the 4 bikes in the household and the car is most definitely a 'she'. I do talk to myself when I ride especially when struggling up a hill or if my leg starts playing up. But talking to the bike - not that I have noticed! OK I admit it, I talk to my tourer (named Original Cindy) but not my road bike (no name yet). My OH's tourer is called Aeryn Sun...
 

Biscuit

Legendary Member
I only talk to the wind. Usually starts with a swear word. My commute is fairly remote so I'm lucky no one has ever heard to my knowledge. Must look a bit odd tho, cycling along ranting at the wind. LOL.
 

summerdays

Cycling in the sun
Location
Bristol
Talking to yourself is fine. The conversation always goes amicably with no disagreements or interruptions, and any of us doing it knows we're privileged to be talking to the most intelligent, nicest, most wonderful person in the world, ever.

Machines though? I know all bikes, especially mine, are wonderful, and that they need enormous amounts of care and attention (and money) lavished on them. But talking to them!
I think I got into the habit of talking to things that didn't answer back when my kids were very young - especially my youngest who had glue ear (and then speech problems so were encouraged to talk lots to him), but it's when you have workmen in the house that you suddenly realise how much you talk to anything!
 

summerdays

Cycling in the sun
Location
Bristol
I only talk to the wind. Usually starts with a swear word. My commute is fairly remote so I'm lucky no one has ever heard to my knowledge. Must look a bit odd tho, cycling along ranting at the wind. LOL.
Actually I talk to a lot of motorists (not shouting at them), just gently chiding them - then you suddenly realise that it is summertime and that with the windows down they can hear you.
 
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