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.
I did something that felt very retro today – I installed a bell on my bike. It feels odd, for someone who cycles a lot, but I've never had a bell on my good bike, the one I do most of my kilometres on. My pub bike used to have a bell, for pootling around town purposes, until, confusingly, it was stolen along with my grips. I never replaced that one, until now too.
Perhaps it's turning 30, perhaps it's thinking more about being a courteous cyclist, or perhaps it's just because I was given a bicycle bell, but it feels like I'm going backwards to go forward.
Until now, like many of you I'm sure, I've been relying on the whirr of my free hub to alert other road users, to not surprise other cyclists, pedestrians, or just to announce my presence. There's merit to that, sure, it means you don't need to install something extra onto your bars, and if you have a particularly fancy set of wheels, they can make quite a noise. However, they don't quite cut through as well as a perfectly weighted ding.
There are things that we become accustomed to, and sounds that we don't, and the sound of a bell behind you on a shared path as you're strolling along is something that really does cause you to look around. This isn't the aggressive honk of a horn, this is the much more gentle alert of just being there, so there is no surprise when you pass by.
For over two decades, bikes sold in the UK have legally had to come with a bell, but this is so often a rubbish model, made of throwaway materials, which is immediately taken off. There are better alternatives to the traditional bell, however, whether that's the Knog Oi, which is the one on my bars, in pink of course, or the Crane E-Ne, which won 'best sound' in our round-up of the best bike bells. Consider them, whether you're a speedy road cyclist or more of a gravel explorer; you'll come across much better to other path users if you alert them of your presence first.
Even in this age of constant headphone use, the bell can cut through the podcast or music to make sure that you don't cause a pile-up. Going round a blind bend? Ring your bell. Coming up behind a dog walker? You know what to do. It might only be useful once a week, but that's still one more positive interaction.
There's not a lot more awkward than trying to get the attention of a stranger in front of you as you're cycling along – "excuse me!" you might call out, your voice cracking, breath laboured from pedalling – so it's good news that there is a solution to this: the humble bike bell.
We all have a responsibility to each other on the road, especially to our active travel cousins on foot or on other kinds of wheels, and ringing our bells is very much part of that. Of course, they are no match for the car driver who hasn't seen you, and won't hear you over their engine, but we all should be doing our best to make our roads and bike paths nicer places.
