The Courier
Female – Dyke Biker chic. She’s a small & slightly dumpy boyish lesbo, sporting dyed cropped hair (no helmet) black top, camo trousers spd shoes, pierced bottom lip (& possibly labia, tbc) rides a single speed Surly. Surly by name & nature the Highway Code is something this beeyatch has heard of yet is only dimly aware of how it works in practice. Traffic lights and standard rights of way are purely optional for this grumptser & woe betide the pedestrian who didn’t spot the 60kg of dyke attitude dressed in faded black, on a black bike heading toward them at 25mph in the dark with no lights down Berwick St. "Wankaaa" is the universal cry of greeting/thanks/departure/abuse/acknowledgement.
Male – as above but with stupid roadie kepi style cap & fewer tattoos/piercings. May ride a beaten up Cannondale Bad Boy wrapped in swaddling inner tubes(black so as to appear invisible in urban surroundings).
The City Commuter
Female – Long skirt utterly unsuited to riding a bike – even the prehistoric ‘girl frame’ 5 speed Raleigh, (with basket naturally) this species loves to risk their life on. Think themselves terribly eccentric & risque for riding a bike in London. Potty.
Male – Rides a Fold up bike with ancient helmet poised at rakish angle on mop of grey hair.
Utterly oblivious to red lights (even the junction of Charing Cross Rd & Shaftesbury Ave). Goes everywhere at 6.2 mph and doesn’t stop for anything – ambulances & buses included, possibly as the bike is so badly maintained the brakes as good as useless. A total menace and more dangerous than the Courier. Often seen looking totally bemused & flustered when nearly crushed by the number 12 while making an illegal right turn the wrong way up a one way street. Buses & ambulances are often the last things these clueless morons ever see.
Mountain Biker Boy
And it is usually a bloke. Often seen astride £2 or £3k worth of aluminium tubing, these boys know their bike porn. They have all the kit, their flashing Cat Eyes making the strand look like the runway approach to Heathrow. Sporting Camelbaks they weave their 62" wide risers expertly between rows of static traffic only taking out one or two wing mirrors in the process. £60 a pop knobbly rubber melting away like butter on the asphalt for which they were never designed. Legs pumped up to grotesque proportions due to overcoming the hideous bob of their too soft suspension (deliberately tuned that way so people can damn well tell they are riding a full sus bike.) Safest bikers on the road due to having all the correct kit with which they are more than a little obsessed by. Most likely to say !It’s titanium you know".
The Pikee
Shell suited & baseball capped, this species roams the estates and streets either on machines nicked from Mountain Biker Boy, or (£)80(lb) heaps of shite their uncle got for them ‘darn the market’ in Pekham. Usually running drug errands and likely to be armed these roving teenage crack peddlers ride a bike for one reason only – as a means of get away. The most dangerous 14-year-old biker you will ever meet.
I don't care if it's raining, snowing or hailing... it's Sunday and on Sunday we go biking.