Friday, 3 April 2015
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
Cycling in the 1980's
When I lived up North in the Aviemore area I was in a wee village about ten miles from Aviemore and my work. There was no public transport to speak of so I ' had to' cycle to work. This 'had to' could have been a pisser but I changed the mood of it ( I had a young family to provide for) by getting right into it. I joined the Aviemore Cycle club and went on club runs in my spare time, I have some great memories of riding in the peleton. ALLEZ ALLEZ ALLEZ!! VITE! VITE! VITE!! someone up front would yell, you tucked in your kness and elbows and cycled like all the hounds of hell were barking at your heels. Fantastic! The sounds in the peleton, the gears meshing and wheels whirring, wind whistling, really felt alive in a spectacular way. Couldnt do it now of course.
Anyways I cycled the ten miles to work and ten miles back 5 days a week for about 4 years, that is, Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn. I can mind carrying my bike over snow drifts to get to the road on the other side of it. Later hearing of people freezing to death in their snowbound cars. I had to wear a ski balaclava some days as I was getting what felt like frostbite on my face with the winter and the windchill.
I can well mind the unbearable cycling to work early one morning (6:30am ish) and there was a constant stream of freezing water running under the slush. The water was spraying up onto my feet and the pain was unbearable. It is common place to say there is no god, yet I prayed as I cycled and it gave me strength of sorts to go on. It was worse when I got to my destination - a warm swimming pool ( I was a lifeguard) - the sudden change in temperature almost made me cry with pain. I would never consider doing something like that now - what must have I been thinking?! I can mind somedays my leather cycle shoes would freeze solid on the journey to work and I could hear them cracking as I got into the heat - madness! The locals said I was hardy - it was just desperation though.
I had seen a cycling magazine and in it was a most beautiful racing bike - cycle porn for those who appreciate - it was all white in the main with a white leather saddle. Of course the price tag was something mental but I lusted after it. So I bought the best frame I could afford - a Claud Butler - most of the parts were chucked in the skip. I used the picture as inspiration and modelled the Claud Butler on it. After a while of buying up parts etc I had the bike resprayed a lookee likee with white leather saddle etc. It was my pride and joy over those 4 or so years.
I can mind talking it over with the guys in the bike club about desiring a Flying Scot - good god that was over 20 years ago.
Here's anothercycling exploit - 'highest UK wind speed in a gust of 173 mph in March 1986'
http://www.landforms.eu/cairngorms/wind.htm
I cycled to work though that!! I mind it was a pig struggling against a srong wind and trying to make headway. When I came back home that night the road was blocked with a dozen or so large tall pines blown over onto the road. Every third or fourth tree was toppled in that lovley forest aside the road I cycled on. I had to clamber over the fallen trees at ten o clock at night with my bike to get back home. I never really thought I could have been killed that day. I was just on a mission to get to work and just thought it a tad more windy than usual. I know all this sounds mad but I swear its true.
I hope for something more sedate these days with the Flying Scot. The Dundee Wheelers cycle club leave the front of Camperdown every Saturday morning. They go ona social cycle to cafes here and ther and that is what I'd like to do. I'll never be a 20 something hardy cyclist again, but I've my stories to tell and still have the desire for the open road and the wind in my thinning grey hair.
Anyways I cycled the ten miles to work and ten miles back 5 days a week for about 4 years, that is, Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn. I can mind carrying my bike over snow drifts to get to the road on the other side of it. Later hearing of people freezing to death in their snowbound cars. I had to wear a ski balaclava some days as I was getting what felt like frostbite on my face with the winter and the windchill.
I can well mind the unbearable cycling to work early one morning (6:30am ish) and there was a constant stream of freezing water running under the slush. The water was spraying up onto my feet and the pain was unbearable. It is common place to say there is no god, yet I prayed as I cycled and it gave me strength of sorts to go on. It was worse when I got to my destination - a warm swimming pool ( I was a lifeguard) - the sudden change in temperature almost made me cry with pain. I would never consider doing something like that now - what must have I been thinking?! I can mind somedays my leather cycle shoes would freeze solid on the journey to work and I could hear them cracking as I got into the heat - madness! The locals said I was hardy - it was just desperation though.
I had seen a cycling magazine and in it was a most beautiful racing bike - cycle porn for those who appreciate - it was all white in the main with a white leather saddle. Of course the price tag was something mental but I lusted after it. So I bought the best frame I could afford - a Claud Butler - most of the parts were chucked in the skip. I used the picture as inspiration and modelled the Claud Butler on it. After a while of buying up parts etc I had the bike resprayed a lookee likee with white leather saddle etc. It was my pride and joy over those 4 or so years.
I can mind talking it over with the guys in the bike club about desiring a Flying Scot - good god that was over 20 years ago.
Here's anothercycling exploit - 'highest UK wind speed in a gust of 173 mph in March 1986'
http://www.landforms.eu/cairngorms/wind.htm
I cycled to work though that!! I mind it was a pig struggling against a srong wind and trying to make headway. When I came back home that night the road was blocked with a dozen or so large tall pines blown over onto the road. Every third or fourth tree was toppled in that lovley forest aside the road I cycled on. I had to clamber over the fallen trees at ten o clock at night with my bike to get back home. I never really thought I could have been killed that day. I was just on a mission to get to work and just thought it a tad more windy than usual. I know all this sounds mad but I swear its true.
I hope for something more sedate these days with the Flying Scot. The Dundee Wheelers cycle club leave the front of Camperdown every Saturday morning. They go ona social cycle to cafes here and ther and that is what I'd like to do. I'll never be a 20 something hardy cyclist again, but I've my stories to tell and still have the desire for the open road and the wind in my thinning grey hair.
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