In 1950 my wife and I met as members of the Cyclists’ Touring Club in Hull. We spent most weekends cycling on the North Yorkshire Moors and on the Wolds. We looked forward to the CTC Gazette with its Frank Patterson sketches and suggested ambitious cycling routes such...
Blakeney Not the laughter in the bed that woke the lady of the house, not the giggling in the church that caused the supplicants to sigh, not the bishop in his scarlet robes who turned to catch your eye, not the incense of the flowers in the hedgerows wafting...
David and I ride a tandem – it’s a good equaliser, as David is far better than I am. We had done the Great Yorkshire Bike Ride several times, but a few years back we quite fancied the idea of doing a 100-miler and decided that extending the Filey ride would be a good...
Life as a commuter cyclist can be fraught with complications. Some are based on human error (forgetting your bike lock) others relate to happenstance. My bike story is a tale of coincidence and a chance conversation on a day when my husband had to abandon his...
An occasional limp and high dental premiums are reminders of a crash In a flash of haste, excessive pace, Paul hit me, ripped me, my leg broken through I shout, pass out, blank. Yet, it’s him I have to thank for giving my life direction For the selection of so much of...
