Pedalling Again

Trusty steed

Summer in the Carse

People friendly roads

Campsie View

I managed a totally enjoyable cycle ride yesterday evening, completing a circuit on good quiet roads on the very best of summer evenings. I kept a good cadence and managed a reasonable pace of 16mph. I was finally enjoying my 20-odd-year-old Canondale racing bike that had been bought with the fees for being a returning officer at the 1997 General Election. It was a belated reward for never having the bike of my dreams as a youngster.  It was my first new bike since I was 7 years old

Cycling has always been a latent passion. I cycled every day as a 7 to 12-year-old on my first bike, a BSA bike with 24-inch wheels. It was too big for the first year or so but "he'll grow into it" was a common refrain when I was growing up. When I was 9 or 10 years old, I cycled 50 or more miles a day to visit far-flung towns like Lancaster and Carnforth to visit engine sheds although my parents were unaware. By the time I was 12, the bike was too small and had become an embarrassment in the bike sheds at school. Classmates were arriving on Dawes, Claud Butler or Falcon racing bikes with 10 Campagnolo gears and Weinmann brakes.

My father had been an amateur cyclist and, as money was tight, he promised me a racing bike for Christmas. He had an old 21-inch bike frame rusting in the attic. It had a slightly bent top tube and no name, although he claimed it was a GA. He stripped the rust off with emery cloth and painted it dark blue. He handbuilt two alloy 26-inch wheels, which were fine, and raided the attic to find an old Brookes saddle, a Resilion cantilever brake for the front wheel, and a chrome Williams chainset with 44 teeth. The final indignity was a 15-tooth sprocket for the fixed wheel. It would teach me to pedal with a better cadence he claimed. It also saved having to buy a rear brake.

The problems were two-fold, first, the bike had no street cred. It didn't have a name or any transfers, it was painted not enamelled, it had no gears and small flange hubs. Second, it was difficult to keep up with friends when going downhill on long rides in the Forest of Bowland, which has notoriously hilly roads and there is no freewheeling with a fixed gear. I survived and my legs were well exercised, which probably explained why I made the under 16 cross country team when only 13. The bike was never going to be nicked by anyone, so I would have to save up to buy the bike that I really wanted.

I took a paper round and cycled to school most days to save my bus fares An older boy nearby was emigrating and selling a Holdsworth bike with all the best components that cost £35 new, compared to £22 for a Claud Butler and £20 for a Raleigh Blue Streak. I asked my father if he would lend me £5 to put towards the £18 to buy it. He went to look at it, bought it and then sold it to one of his cycling friends. He had spent a lot of time making my bike and why would I want to waste money on another one? I was fairly disconsolate and my interest in cycling dipped from there on as other teenage interests took their toll.

In the summer of 1973 after arriving in Glasgow, I had to scrap my ageing Morris Minor when it failed its MoT so I bought a Mercian racing bike that I had seen advertised in the Evening Times. It had Simplex rather than Campagnolo gears but otherwise, it was well specced and I spent the fine summer evenings exploring all of Glasgow's outlying areas. There was little respect for cyclists on the road in the 1970s, they were a nuisance to the newly enfranchised car owners. It was also before the days of helmets and dayglo jackets but I survived with some near misses and my knowledge of all the areas within 25 miles of Glasgow was greatly increased. In the following years cycling suffered as football, cricket, rugby, skiing, climbing, sailing and hill running took up all my time and a car was needed to get to all the fixtures.

On moving to the Trossachs in 1987, I bought a second-hand Saracen mountain bike and for twenty years it was used regularly on the forest trails, for short trips in the vicinity and for hillwalking trips when it could save a long walk-in to the mountains. When the frame's rear chain stays finally collapsed with corrosion, I replaced it with a Trek mountain bike bought at an end-of-season clear out of stock at the local cycle hire shop. It has been used regularly for the same purpose ever since. I have buckled a couple of wheels on mountain trails and lost another but otherwise, it has performed remarkably well without any mishaps during dozens of hill walking expeditions.

Since I bought my first new bike, an eighteen-speed Cannondale with quality Shimano components, it has had little use. I was still running three or four times a week and climbing hills two or three times a month on my free days. The bike would get a trip over the Duke's Pass and around Loch Katrine a couple of times a year but the road surface was so poor that the ride was always a bit of a disappointment. In 2012 when Bradley Wiggins inspired us all with the Tour de France win and then the Olympics, I gave it a few more outings but since then it has largely languished in the garage.

Tonight was the first time it has been used with genuine pleasure as I pedalled it around the local roads, several of which had been resurfaced this year. For almost the first time I felt at one with the bike and even managed to keep a speed of 14 mph when ascending back from the carse to the village. As I am running far less this year as my feet and legs begin to object, perhaps it is time to get pedalling again in the way I have always intended.

Saracen days

Resilion brakes