Bristol is coming to terms with being a Cycling City, with varying degrees of success. Over on the City Council website there is a competition called Turning Point, in which you are invited to describe a life-changing moment, preferably bicycle-related, in 50 words or less. I mention it and provide the link in case you fancy entering and maybe winning that £250 voucher for bike stuff.
I thought long and hard (well, two minutes and a sip of tea). But cycling has been a part of my life ever since my father sneakily let go all those years ago and I was launched.... into a Lancashire gorse bush. So my life-changing experiences are not particularly bike related. So here is my entry; the occasion was memorable, anyway, ascending from Bantry Bay in Ireland
All day we'd sheltered in our tent waiting for the rain to stop. It didn't. We packed up, pushed our soggy bikes up the long steep road over the coastal mountains, and emerged into sunshine with an endless downhill before us. If it's raining where you are, just keep going.
Nice one. Though I think that the Lancashire gorse bush is interesting too.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately last time I rode a bike I ended up unable to walk because of sciatica. Dom says I should try her bike out, it's more sit up and beg with good gears.
if I win will you pretend to be me and collect the prize? we can split it!
ReplyDeleteCaroline x
My dad bought me a Dawes bike when in was nine.
ReplyDeleteI road it down Hargwyne St, and crashed into a parked car at the end of the road. and broke three fingers and lost two nails.
I was hooked.
love
chrissie
xxxx
The gorse bush sounds particularly prickly as a landing place - amazing that you carried on after that I think!
ReplyDeleteI've cycled in Ireland once and remember just been scared stiff on the long, long downhills that the hire bike's brakes might not work well enough at the bottom. Sounds like you had a much more positive experience.
Might be worth a try, Anji: getting a bike you're comfortable on is the main thing, I guess. Maybe I should write up the gorse bush as a second mini-epic.
ReplyDeleteObviously I should condemn such underhand behaviour, Caroline. So yes then.
Sounds like your entry, Chrissie? Blimey though, that sounds like a far less comfortable landing than my gorse bush.
I was reasonably confident with my brakes, Caroline, or just plain daft. We went up and over some quite impressive mountains, and had to carry the bikes over stepping stones on mountain streams and all sorts. My companion's derailleur got dinged, and we took the bike to a shop in Killarney, because I didn't know I was practical in those days, and a boy aged all of eight years old came out and went tweak tweak screwdriver screwdriver there you are fixed.
Blimey there are two off us! chrissie's story is far too good, saved me choosing one to write up though first ride ending up in a rose bed because I could not decide which side to go, story of my life.
ReplyDeleteCaroline with an x
For me the Wright Brothers moment was, at nine, a gradual downhill slope, avoiding pig pies, into a wire fence in rural Maryland. But "flying" all the way.
ReplyDeleteYours looks like a winning entry to me, Dru.
Thank you, Larry. It's remarkable how our earliest bike memories are all crashes. I also remember the sense of 'flying', as you say; slipping the surly bonds of earth, and so on, after walking everywhere for so long.
ReplyDeleteIts interesting to learn that you had a time before you became practical - gives me hope - maybe my time of being practical is yet to come...
ReplyDeleteCaroline with an x - Hi!
I had a father and big brother who were always taking command of things, Caroline. It was some years later when someone offered to help fix my motorbike and started hitting it with a hammer and I thought, "I don't know anything about mechanics but I know that's wrong" that I started.
ReplyDelete