This article is part of a series called ‘A love letter to…’, where Cycling Weekly writers pour praise on their favourite aspects of cycling. The below content is unfiltered, authentic and has not been paid for.
Christmas is a time for giving. Everybody knows that. Still, if you’d asked me when I was a child, I’d have told you the opposite.
“Giving? No way! Christmas is about presents,” I’d have said. I was half right, too. Think about the logic for a second: if Christmas is a time for giving, then every gift given must also have a receiver. In turn, giving and receiving happen in equal measure – the day is no more about one than it is the other. Sadly, nine-year-old me never had the eloquence to explain that.
Today, cyclists all over the world are giving and receiving Christmas presents. You may be sat beside a pile of yours right now. If you are, I’d wager that you’ve received something cycling-themed, a little bike-shaped gadget, or at the very least something adorned with a garish wheel pattern. I bet you get something like that every year, don’t you? Well, so do I, and I love every one, no matter how useless it is.
First there was the pizza cutter. You’ve probably got a similar one. Mine’s yellow, made of metal, and shaped like a road bike, with tiny drop handlebars and two sharp wheels for slicing through crust.
Then came the multi-tool. Again, this one was shaped like a bike (a common trope), with little trinkets attached for tightening bolts and screws. When I opened it, I held it between my thumbs and tested its strength, finding it to have all the integrity of a cheap teaspoon. It would’ve buckled in tough porridge, I'm sure.
Another present that lasts in my memory is a mug. I've still got it – it’s white and black, and has the word ‘cyclopath’ printed on the side, together with a description that says I have a “chronic bike disorder”. I shot back a grin after I received it, totally sincere, because gifts like these fill me with warmth. I'll tell you why.
Every time someone gives me something cycling-themed, I picture the moment they spotted the item on the shop shelf. They probably smiled when they saw it, thought of me, and said: “That’ll do nicely.” A box gladly ticked.
You see, when people see bikes, they think of us. It’s a wonderful thing to be associated with, really. People give us cycling-themed presents, wait for us to thank them, and then deal us a proud nod. It’s a gesture that says: “You know how you bang on about bikes all year? Well, I listen.”
There’s a pride in receiving these gifts, too. Christmas is one of the most stressful times of the year, when present-buying is frantic, and, to many, can seem like a chore. Cycling fans like you and me fall into a very desirable category – people who are “easy to buy for”. We make life easier for our loved ones. Our reward? A shiny two-wheeled pizza cutter.
I’ll be honest, mine is yet to grace one of Italy's famous pies – it sits on my bookshelf as a decoration. As for the multi-tool, that never made it into my saddle bag, but I do sometimes use the mug, which gets a run-out when my favourite one (yellow with the Tour de France logo) is in the dishwasher.
The important thing is that I keep them all. They may not be the most practical gifts, but I love them. I treasure them, in fact, because they remind me that I stand for something, and people recognise that passion in me. A flimsy multi-tool can be a beautiful thing.
