This essay is politically and emotionally written in the vein of cycling, deeply intertwined with my own experiences of such a mundane, nevertheless risky, activity. Of late, cyclists have been regarded as disruptive and dangerous, and for at least a decade the cycling ”Lycra lout” has figured in Anglo-Saxon demonology. Simply put, ‘lycra lout’ is derogatory British slang for an arrogant, road-hogging cyclist supposedly sporty dressed up wearing lycra. In a Swedish context, we may talk of a similar figure, namely “cykelmarodören”, stylishly forcing his way through the busy streets of Stockholm city. Refusing wearing lycra, simply because it would make me look ridiculous, the joys I experience from scooting up the outer lane onto the oncoming traffic would nevertheless make me into a ‘lout’ - at least from the perspective of car drivers. Traffic, the scene of encounters through which I pedal my speedy bike affords not only excitements, it also brings relaxations. I write this text with a feeling of rest throughout my body –a welcomed reward the activity of cycling brings to wind up bodies located within academia. However, writing from the perspective of a male cyclist, this essay aims at bringing attention to risks and risk taking as a traditional aspect of performing masculine behaviour - to prove skill and potency - for example through sorting out a difficult and risky traffic situation.