For years, riding in Vancouver and here on the North Shore, people on bikes would recognize each other with a head nod.
Just a brief tip of the head, “the nod” was a greeting and an acknowledgement. It didn’t matter where you were, what the terrain, or the weather. If you encountered another person riding, the nod was definitely “on.” No return nod meant the person was probably visiting from another planet. They were either an alien or a zombie.
Lately, though, it seems the nod has gone out of style (or there are countless alien zombies).
A friend of mine recently sent an email about “the nod” being exclusively a Dollarton Highway ritual:
“There’s a camaraderie I don’t see anywhere else except on the Dollarton, and I call it the North Shore Nod. You’re cycling on Dollarton and see another cyclist coming the other way. You nod to each other as if to acknowledge, ‘You’re brave enough to ride this.’ I think it’s a locals thing.”
Whaaaaat? The nod used to be everywhere, not just on the Dollarton. Certainly not just on the North Shore. On reflection, she hit on something. I haven’t seen the nod in ages. At first, I was saddened that a lovely “we’re in this together” or a “you’re not alone” kind of acknowledgement has become passé, restricted to specific corridors like Dollarton.
But the need for a solidarity nod dissipates with success. The more people ride, the less need for the nod. Or the less practical it becomes. Too many head nods are required when there are a ton of people on bikes. It’s like, “Ya, we’re both on bikes … but, so is everyone else.”
I mean, it’s not like you’re going to head-nod everyone riding on the Adanac or Off-Broadway bike routes at rush hour. Folks would look at you like you were a bobblehead, or suspect you as a potential alien zombie.
After 30 years of using a bike for transportation, I have to admit that the nod is conceivably archaic, like me. I still give the nod once in a while when there aren’t that many people out, primarily due to superbad weather, or if I meet someone tackling the hill on Dempsey Road without an ebike (yes, people actually do that!).
The nod is a way to say, I’m here with you, and we’re doing this together. Also, note that the etiquette is, or at least used to be, that you would nod your head down for random riders, nod your head up for someone you know. Mind you, there’s little point in learning the nod’s finer details – you don’t need to get the hang of it at all now, unless you are on the Dollarton, which kind of says a lot about that route.
Few people ride the Dollarton because it seems and/or is dangerous. If you do, you are courageous and one of only a few, thus the persistence of “the nod.” There are other routes here and there where people still nod, but I can’t think of one more deserving of solidarity than Dollarton. Well, maybe Main Street. But it’s so scary you really don’t even think about pleasantries like nodding.
Fundamentally, the nod means “the cyclist in me honours the cyclist in you.” I am sorry to see it go. But happy to recognize that we may be moving beyond the nod.
Heather Drugge is a sustainable transportation advocate who has used her bike for transportation for over 20 years. She’s zooming around on an e-bike now, and maybe looking at a jetpack next. [email protected].
