Over the Severn Bridge, of course.
But here is proof, if proof be needed, that I once went to Wales on my trusty five-speed bicycle. Some time in the ’80s, I would guess, before the need for Lycra or, indeed, a helmet.
My ex was a nice chap and pretty fit, certainly fitter than me. We cycled all over the place, took our bikes on trains, rode them to work, rode them to the pub and staggered back with them. We astonished my elderly aunt by turning up outside her static caravan on Hayling Island. We made a train driver move an entire train further up the platform at Fareham, so we could get our bikes off. We helped my friend do a moonlight flit by bike. We rode the Bristol-Bath cycle track completely stoned and in darkness – quite often. We toured Yorkshire. We laughed at my nephew outside the cider house when he mounted his bike after a night out and fell straight off the other side. Yeah, wild we were … in a gentle sort of way.
I had to leave my bike in Bristol when I moved up here ‘cos it wouldn’t go in the van, and I bought a new all-singing all dancing one with 1,000 gears (I exaggerate slightly) which scared the hell out of me so I raffled it for a good cause. There are too many bouquets at the side of the road for me to want to start up again round here, but I do miss it.
This post is to make up for my inability to think of any songs about cycling, apart from the ones which have already been nommed. Anyone else got some spokey tales?
Ali: That blue one on the left, with the saddle up another 3-4 inches could have been mine, I had a pale blue/green Dawes that was the first major purchase of my life, it was about 22 quid, earned from a paper route, I think it was a 3 speed. Like you, I lived on my bike, went everywhere on it, rode it about 15 miles to and from school/work every day and it was a point of honor to beat the bus. And then every weekend we’d go for long rides, maybe 100 plus miles over two days. One weekend we thought it would be exciting to ask a farmer if we could sleep in his barn, he said OK. The excitement shuddered to a halt as soon as it got dark, the barn was infested with rodents, we couldn’t see if they were rats or mice but they were everywhere, even running over us. The most I ever rode in one day was about 200 miles, that was from Kent to Yorkshire, one thing I learned doing that was that it was all in the rhythm of the pedals, once you’d achieved a steady comfortable rhythm it became almost mechanical. And one other detail, there was no lycra and no helmets and just ordinary shoes, though I always had toeclips. When I joined the RAF it got left behind and I never saw it again, often wondered what happened to it.
My cycling seems to have gone in phases. I did a lot when I was growing up, back in the days when parents were happy for you to disappear off for the day with a packed lunch, no plan, no mobile phone or anything silly like that. It slipped when I was in college, mainly because Cambridge was the world capital of bike thefts, so it didn’t seem worth keeping one, especially as almost all of it is perfectly walkable; revived again when I rented a room right out on the outskirts, then dropped again.
My first job was in Lampeter, in the depths of mid-Wales, and the interview was in July; Lampeter is tiny, so by the time I know I was moving there, all the houses and flats in and around the town had already been taken, and so I ended up in a small village about six miles and one major hill away – and hadn’t yet learnt to drive. It’s only recently that I’ve returned to that level of fitness; at the time, being able to do that journey a couple of times a day (if i forgot something, or wanted to take a break) felt like quite an achievement. Then I passed my driving test, and more importantly moved to Bristol, which instantly struck me as the sort of place you’d be insane to cycle, partly the traffic and partly the terrifying precipitous hills.
Latest revival was about five or six years ago, when Mrs Abahachi decided it would be fun to rent some bikes while we were on holiday near Passau, to ride along the Inn Radweg (German cycle paths along the sides of rivers are wonderful). A very nasty shock after so many years, struggling to do ten miles in the day on almost completely flat terrain, but we persevered and got hooked; cycled with a group from Salzburg to Passau the next year, started working our way along the Danube the year after, bought decent bikes for Germany and then decent bikes for over here as well. And started wearing lurid pink lycra, obviously.
GF – the rodents sound horrible, I never had toe clips but I did have cycle clips. Keeps the mice out.
Abahachi – strangely enough I was quite happy cycling in Bristol although I could only do Muller Road from one direction (going the other way I always had to get off and push at the Library). It was up here that I lost my nerve, probably because the traffic is much faster.
Me and cycling. Had bikes as a small child – I specifically remember a Halfords Shopper substitute which pupported to be suitble up to adulthood. I doubt – at 5’9″ with disproportionately long legs – that it would have been. Anyway, I am mostly convinced that it was awful. Can’t be sure, ‘cos I stopped cycling around teenagerhood. It didn’t help that we weren’t allowed to [i]go[/i] anywhere worth going on our bikes.
Fast forward several years to the early 90s, and I was doing a Masters degree in ‘Ull (aka Kingston-Upon-Hull – that’s one very busy apostrophe). ‘Ull is flat. There’s a bridge somewhere in it with a steepish incline. There’s also a hill in Beverly (10 miles away, very pretty). Quite why it took me 9 months to work out that buying a second-hand bicycle would be A Good Idea, I’m not sure. Well, it {[i]was[/i] summer, so I suppose it helped.
So I visited a bike shop and expressed my desire for a bike. Slightly confused by the question what did I want to use it for, I replied long the lines of “to get from one place to another”. “Ah”, he said, “You want a racing bike”. So thats what I bought. A very tatty-looking Raleigh ladies racer* (oops – too small), a helmet and a bike lock. University town; tatty-looking an advantage. Later, I bought an extra height seat post. Better.
I didn’t learn to use the friction-based gear lever until after I left ‘Ull.
The bike moved to Southampton with me (another university town; tatty bike successfully not stolen). I learnt how to use the gears.
I acquired a car and a longer commute when I moved to Guildford, so the bike only came out at weekends; useful to avoid exorbitant parking charges in the town.
By the time I moved to the Newbury area, I realised that that bike was past it, and sought a replacement for my newly shortened commute. The car stayed at home most of the week (in all weathers save the most inclement) as I rode 3 miles there and the same back on a bronze gents racer* (another Raleigh) that dated back to 1976 but that was, and is, still an excellent bike. The only bits that remain from the old bike are the extra height seat post and the ladies’ saddle.
I continued to ride until I was several months pregnant, when SPD (a temporary pelvic disorder) stopped me. I had hoped to get a trailer and take my child to nursery by bike but I got made redundant instead. Then we moved to a village and distances to be covered compressed and expanded in such a way that I doubt I will manage daily cycling any time soon. We do take our kids out for bike rides, but such events often involve loading bikes into or onto a car or cars, and something about the idea of using a car in order to ride bike seems to go against everything I hold dear about cycling.
I do also own a mountain bike. It’s horrible. It’s a cheap one, and I suspect it may be too big for me. It’s heavy and I really do not like the wide handlebars. I like riding narrow. I am also extraordinarily lazy, and like to expend a minimum of effort. The mountain bike is at the back of the shed.
I do own a pair of cycling shorts. I have probably worn them three times. Usually, the only lycra I wear on a bike is in my socks. I tried toe clips and didn’t like them. They make riding in traffic a real pain. Trouser clips, on the other hand, are jolly useful for stopping oil mixed with road dirt besmirching your trousers.
*When I say ‘racer’, I really mean ‘low end sports tourer with drop handlebars’. Both bikes in question are steel-framed with 5 gears. I generally use two gears: bottom for hills, top for everything else.
Oops, that was a bit long. Also the italics didn’t work. Oh, well.
I’ve always loved a bike, but I don’t have any interesting stories. Here are a couple of non-interesting ones…When I went to Oxford, one of the first things I did was by a second-hand bicycle. And later one of the women in my year said she was struck by the fact that, in the early days, when everybody was trying to impress everybody and sign up for everything in a mad rush, I would take off for hours at a time on my bike. I loved that bike. I left it chained up, because I was supposed to go back.
And here’s another boring one…in my early 20s I used to ride my bike for hours every morning, so a friend of mine gave me a bright red shirt that said “ONE LESS CAR” on it. After I’d met David, he said he remembered seeing me, on my bike wearing that shirt, from a train. It’s a silly story, but it always seemed so cinematic, with the bikes and trains and all.
I still love my bike!! I like riding with Malcolm, because it’s still a joy for him.
Oh, and I meant to say, Ali – I love that picture, and your stories are wonderful and very evocative. You could write a memoire of that time, all centered around your bikes! You have a lovely writing style.
Great Idea Ali. You certainly look fit & rosy in the pic. Cycling will do that. My first bike was a J.C. Higgins (from Sears. A Jetflow if I remember right. Weighed a gazillion pounds with 1 speed & coaster brakes. My parents bought it with the idea of me growing into it so I remember having blocks on the pedals so I could reach them & (very dangerous for a boy) not being able to put both feet on the ground simutaneously. I sort of jumped to one side for a stop. Rode it till my junior high years when I had a paper route & saved my money to buy a Raleigh 5 speed despite the warnings of my friends who claimed hand brakes were unsafe. I think they really meant uncool. Had 27″ tires I think & I was right back on growing into it. Sort of left it behind in high school & gave it away when I moved to Hawaii. Couple years later I’m in the navy & not making enough to afford motorized transport so I bought a another Raleigh (10 Speeds-Yea) & rode all over Florida & South Carolina on it. Left it behind when I mustered out and Immediately bought an American Eagle (stolen) & then a Centurion Le Mans which I outfitted for touring eventually making it a 15 speed & had it for 15 years before I loaned it to my brother (mistake it dissapeared -so did my brother) Rode a Fugi for awhile & for the last 10 years I’ve been riding another Raleigh (27 Speeds this time) which weighs probaly less than half of my first bike. I also have a Mountain bike but usually leave Street tires on it as it has a rack & I use has my small truck for market & winter days when there’s lots of road trash to contend with. All in all I’ve loved everyone of them.
Thank you all for commenting, I’ve enjoyed reading your stories. Zalamanda, you were very brave to cycle while pregnant, I did a lot of walking but always had this tendency to topple over onto the bump (doesn’t seem to have done him any damage). I don’t think I could have balanced properly on a bike – not in the later stages, anyway.
Steenbeck, that does sound very cinematic – a bit like brief encounter but with a much happier ending! I wish I could get young Munday to ride a bike, he’s not very confident and doesn’t like the back-roads here because they tend to be vertical. And hard, when you fall off. Thanks for kind comments, too.
Fintan, you sound like a champion cyclist. I must admit, I had calves (calfs?) to die for in those days. We’re thinking of getting rid of the car soon (more through necessity than any noble environmental reason), and you’ve almost inspired me to get another bike … would have to be an old-fashioned ladies five-speed though, the new fangled ones are too complicated!
Ali – Not much of a champion I – more a relentless plodder. But the point is to get there & enjoy the ride. If you go looking for a bike there are a whole new generation of internal gear hub bikes up to 8 gear – probabaly like your old 5 speed (was it a Dawes? they made a pretty bullet proof one I’m told). Means you only have 1 shift control on the handlebars. And they are all lighter these days. Cheers.
Hey Ali; you need to use instead of [] for italics, bold etc. But you probably knew that and they’re just hidden on your keyboard….
Oh, and that didn’t work, either! Should be ‘you need to use “lesser than”sing and “greater than” sign’. Serves me right for trying to be knowledgeable….
sigh…’sign’…
No stories yet, although I pondered buying a bike on Saturday after test-driving it.
Incidentally, it took me that long to understand the title.
Thank you, Williamsbach.
@Ali, re cycling while pregnant, I didn’t really get the chance to find out what happened when the bump was too big, ‘cos it didn’t get big until after the SPD kicked in. In fact, it didn’t really get that big at all… must have been the cycling keeping my stomach muscles in shape, ‘cos my son wasn’t (still isn’t) small.
Thanks for further comments – Fintan, the blue bike was a Dawes, I think (the one on the left), but I can’t remember what mine was. I had a folding one for a while, which was handy on the train but a bit cumbersome to ride any distance.
Williamsbach, you have lost me completely. Not difficult, I admit.
Ejaydee, welcome to the obscure world of old jokes, courtesy of young Munday.