Familiarity breeds... familiarity?

Yesterday Matt and I rode a familiar route from the Fort to Pine Point. Because few people were riding in the 30-something-degree mist, it was a pretty easy, non-stressful ride primarily on a trail. We decided that it can be a good thing to ride a familiar route (although that didn't stop us from deviating slightly so that we could have one of our trademark, "Here? Right or left? Uhh..." moments).

I was thinking last night that because Matt and I ride so much together, familiarity with each other also is good. I noticed that we both signal for traffic in the same way at the same time. We pedal standing at some intersections for the same number of pedalstrokes. We have a system of dropping back and catching up that keeps us from colliding. There is so much that goes right and is not communicated on every ride, day in and day out, without even having to think about it.

Because the human brain is what it is, what sometimes gets remembered are the parts that don't always go perfectly. I appreciate that since we spend so much time together, Matt feels comfortable telling me that I am not good at telling him that he can set the pace and then riding at his pace. Thankfully, it wasn't a big deal, and it opened a door about why we were approaching four-way stops differently than in the past (my theory is that I become inconsistent the more hungry I get) as we ate some yummy pizza and drank some beer about eight miles from the finish.

So, while familiarity can allow for greater unfiltered honesty, I argue that it doesn't necessarily breed contempt. I think Matt would agree because apparently his biggest beef with me today is the fact that I don't like ranch-flavored foods. (Have I ever mentioned the intellectual rigor of our ride chats?) I suggest to you, gentle reader, that familiarity with your riding partner makes a great ride go more smoothly and gets you out on the bike even more.