The chatterbox

The chatterbox is an absolute delight to have on any ride, keeping you entertained with lively banter all the way from kilometre zero through to the finish.

Perhaps a little depressingly, they seem able to keep up a constant conversation, regardless of the terrain ahead of them.

Every group ride should have a chatterbox, just make sure you’re not riding side by side with them as you hit the day’s biggest climb – as they’ll expect you to keep chatting back to them, even when you’re blowing.

The one-upper

Unfortunately there’s often somebody on a group ride who just can’t help themselves but rain on your parade.

“Oh you did the Haute Route? I did that a few years ago, but I didn’t think it was that tough.”

Cheers, mate. Remind me not to talk to you next week, yeah?

The heart rate bore

I cannot say this enough times – nobody gives a fig about your heart rate. Yes, technology is wonderful and yes, we all like to think we’re employing the same methods as the pros to get the best results we can – but honestly it makes for pretty dry conversation.

Unfortunately, group rides tend to attract at least one person who can’t wait to tell you how many beats per minute their ticker is pumping out, as well as their percentage of threshold and which zone they’re in.

If you are this person, watch you don’t land yourself in the ‘people we don’t invite on group rides anymore’ zone.

The backseat navigator

“Oh, are you sure we should go down Buntingford Lane? Isn’t it a bit quicker to go via the B6197 and rejoin the main road after Wugglington?”

There are few things more irritating than having one’s carefully-planned, tried and tested route questioned at every turn by someone who didn’t even volunteer to lead the ride themselves.

Even if you do have an opinion on the route, unless the designated leader of your group ride has you headed for certain doom (pit full of sharpened stakes, a volcanic crater, into the path of a landing jumbo jet), then it’s really more polite to keep your opinions to yourself.

The unreliable navigator

Or course you couldn’t have the aforementioned backseat navigator without the other extreme, the ride leader who has no idea where you’re supposed to be headed.

The problem is you don’t realise how feckless they are until it’s too late and you’ve already been led down four different wrong turns, crossed a small footbridge over a stream bed and been led into the middle of a farmer’s field full of silently judgmental bovines.

Sir Droppedalot

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get better, but there are also more efficient ways of doing so than turning up to the same group ride every week, just to get dropped after 20 minutes.

Nice people will stop and wait for those that get dropped, because it’s, well, nice, but having that generosity strained can also be a little bit wearing.

Riding with people who are slightly better than you is a great way to get fit, but trying to run before you can walk is a guaranteed way to ruin yours, and their, ride.

The wardrobe malfunction

How is it that there is always somebody on the group ride who has dressed inappropriately?

Either they’re wearing far too many layers and have to pull up on the side of the road to remove one of their three jackets they put on for a sunny mid-May jaunt around the countryside, or they’re shivering half to death at the cafe stop because they came out of the house in the dark early days of January in a lightweight summer climber’s jersey.

The mystery guest

There’s a tendency for a well-organised group ride to pick up a few ‘stragglers’. I know I’ve definitely clung onto a few strangers’ wheels when I’ve been struggling to get through the kilometres on a solo training ride.

Typically, the interloper will disappear seemingly as quickly as they materialised, leaving you to have a conversation like this in the cafe at the end.

“Who was that guy with the beard? Was he with us?”

“I thought he was your mate?”

“Me? No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”