Witty Replies

There are certain places where you encounter non-cyclists where they are more likely than others to say something. When I stop at a gas station, someone is sure to ask me how much gas I want, sometimes the gas station attendant. I have been known to give him my pint gas bottle and say, "Fill 'er up!" to his surprise. If someone says, "I didn't know bikes use gasoline," I reply, "Well, the last pint lasted me 500 miles." If they ask me what kind of mileage I get, I say that I get seven miles to a banana. Sometimes people tell me I need a motor for "that thing." My reply here is not exactly witty, I say, "I have a damn fine motor on this thing; I have come X miles already today."

The grocery store/restaurant is another place where humor comes in handy.  When I am wolfing down a whole loaf of bread, a large hoagie, or something like that, someone's sure to say, "Are you going to eat all that?" And I reply, "Well, I have to have something in my stomach between breakfast and lunch." If someone asks me, "Why do you wear such funny clothes," I say, "It's a good way to start a conversation."

Of course, it's necessary to make a distinction between a witty remark and a true question. If the person really wants to know about my clothes, I explain.

Sometimes the remark is not witty, but the reply is a jolt to the asker. At a motel, someone might ask me, "Where are you going to put your bike tonight? It's not safe outside." And I tell him/her I'm going to put it in my room, something that he/she had never thought of. Or if someone asks me, "Where do you stay for the night; just pull off the road somewhere? (the implication is that I am sleeping in a ditch), I might describe my last camping site in all its glory. Didn't pay a cent either.

Another time for witty comments is when the person is giving road directions. Thirty odd years ago when returning from Canada, I got the remark, "It's downhill all the way" from every person I met, I think. Usually, I would just say something like, "Funny my knees don't feel it." Or, "Well, I guess I won't have to pedal any more." Another common statement for people to make is that "it's five minutes away." People don't like to be corrected, so now I say, "Well, I better pedal pretty fast then," and they laugh at themselves. Sometimes I encounter construction along the road; usually the flagmen warn me against speeding, and I overseriously agree to watch myself, but they are always very helpful too.

Keeping a handy wit is helpful even when people are dead serious. When people say to me, in all seriousness and not as a threat, "Don't you think you're blocking traffic when you're riding on your bike," I respond, "Would you rather pass me traveling on my bike at 15 mph or in my van traveling at five miles an hour below the speed limit, as I always do?" I win that argument right away. When I first started riding a bike, my brother tried to convince me to give it up. He said, "You think people admire you for your long bike trips and adventures, but really people are laughing at you; they think you're being childish." I looked at him in all seriousness and said, "Then, you don't think I should get a Va-room engine for my bike?" (The Va-room engine was a small imitation motorcycle engine that used a plastic flap against the spokes for sound.) "Oh, no! cried my brother, "Don't do that; you can keep riding your bike, but don't get a Va-room engine!"

A little wit goes a long way. I think people's behavior varies around the country, but the Southern and country people that I talk to all like this kind of banter. My relaxed, friendly nature makes me feel at home wherever I go. Sometimes people say, "Don't you feel lonely," and I respond, "When I meet and talk with people like you every day, how could I ever be lonely?" People don't get less friendly as I get farther from home; they get more friendly.