When returning from a ride the other day, I stopped to visit with a horse who lives at the top of a long climb, and I continued on my way after a few minutes. I was just picking up speed when I noticed two other cyclists in my rearview mirror. They were slowly closing the distance between us, so I edged over to the right a bit to allow them to pass without having to foresake the shoulder for the busy roadway. (We were on a state highway, and the shoulder is wider than many cycle paths.) Then, just as the lead cyclist came to within two bike lengths of me, he called out, ON YOUR LEFT!—in a voice loud enough for me to hear it over the roar of the wind and the thrum of passing cars. I acknowledged the warning with a wave of my hand, and we exchanged greetings as the pair pulled abreast. Then they pedaled off.

Nothing out of the ordinary, you say? Well, in my experience, it is. I always make a point of letting other cyclists know when I’m about to overtake them—and I’m astonished at how few are aware of my presence until I speak up—but I seldom receive like courtesy from others. To be sure, I’m not often taken by surprise. I have a rearview mirror, and I use it. Notwithstanding the reservations of Satchel Paige, I want to know if something is gaining on me. Of course, hard-core roadies regard mirrors as de trop, though I note that even the Velominati make an exception for riders of Surly Long Haul Truckers (see Rule 66). So I guess I pass muster. In any case, whatever the dictates of cycling fashion, there’s no doubt that a mirror is a valuable tool.

Yet few cyclists use them, and even the few who do sometimes allow their attention to wander from time to time. Which is why it makes good sense to warn any rider or pedestrian whom you’re about to overtake. A bell works well, cutting through all but the loudest traffic noise, but it often startles rather than informs. I prefer the traditional ON YOUR LEFT! (That’s ON YOUR RIGHT! in the green and pleasant land, of course.) I can also remember being admonished to shout BICYCLE! before entering a covered bridge or tunnel when I was a girl. But covered bridges are rare today, and I’m not sure how many cyclists or pedestrians would understand the import of this warning, so… In any case, passing situations are much more common than either tunnels or covered bridges.

Now that I think about it, my encounter with the two riders was a pleasant surprise for another reason, as well. Almost as soon as they’d passed me, they started to flag, and I was able to keep up with them for the next two miles, right up to the time when I left the state highway for the town road that takes me home. And this despite the fact that they were riding carbon-fiber road bikes and narrow racing slicks—a far cry from my LHT, with it’s all-terrain tires, full fenders, and racks fore and aft. It seems that, on some occasions at least, the tortoise really can give the hare a run for his money!

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