In which your intrepid reporter attempts to get to the bottom of the mountain biking vernacular using the ancient arts of Flannelling and Hand Waving.

Whip

“Hey, check out Algernon’s sick new whip, man! It’s a sweet new Rectal. The enduro one; the Invader. Rockin’ 150mm of smooth action. Proper quiver killer, this. One sick whip.”

Whip. Urgh. I don’t know what it is about this word – and others of its ilk – that irks me so much apart from the fact that it is clearly appallingly gauche and a feeble attempt to bestow a perfectly noble object, the bicycle, with a fauxaura of which it has absolutely no need. But it also seems a rather peculiar word with which to refer to a bicycle. Clearly, some sort of lamentably half-assed investigation is required. Quickly, fam! To Google!