The first bike I ever had, had no gears and came to me by post all the way from Warsaw, Poland where I’d had to leave it behind when we left to come to England when I was a child. The Arrival of The Bicycle How did the bicycle cross the Iron...
I didn’t realise it was icy when I left for work one morning. I was pretty close to my house when I first came off the bike on black ice. I managed to bruise my elbow and rip a small hole in my expensive rain jacket. I’m not at my best in the morning and,...
I grew up in southeast London in the 1950’s. Not many people had cars and the roads were full of bicycles. Loads of kids had bikes but I wasn’t allowed one because my brother broke his leg in a bike accident. The logic in my mum’s head was that I...
Puncture Stopped a while in the midday heat, glad of a puncture, the man in the house beckons us in, puts on the kettle. We struggle with the tyre. Man in paint soiled overalls, sleeves rolled up, down on one knee, man in lycra shorts, knees together, like a woman on...
The love potion flask All day chalking out patterns; tacking lapels and kick pleats. Every evening cranking up through the gears – a Tag-Relay on the track, or a Time-Trial into that East wind. And on a weekend it’s an Endurance: organising...
