Prologue

My earliest memory of a bike, or more accurately a trike, is of my lovely pale blue frame (Reynolds 501 I believe) with red disk “track” wheels which were way ahead of their time. Directly driven by the pedals attached to the front wheel. No brakes so my first trendy fixie. I rode that bike all over. Up and down the garden. Forwards and backwards. Different terrains both tarmac and off road (garden path and lawn). Even mixing it up with the flower beds and along the cobbles as can be seen in the photo of me in a Spring Classic. It was chilly so I wore cycling tights and a woollen jersey as did all the professionals back in the 1960s. Smart hard soled cycling shoes too. My main handicap was that my younger sister insisted on me giving her backies around the garden which would’nt’ve cramped my style so much except that she also insisted that we stop to pick up dropped shoes. I doubt if Jacques Anquetil or Beryl Burton had to put up with that nonsense. Anyway, the extra weight certainly ensured my leg muscles were well developed for a 3 year old. At this time I lived in Bridgwater and although not too far from the infamous Porlock Hill (25%) decided against a trip out there partly due to my lack of gearing but mainly as my sister wasn’t allowed to venture more than 10 miles from home. This was the 60s when kids had more freedom to roam but there was a limit. Within a couple of years I moved out of Bridgwater which was a shame as the brilliantly stocked St John St Cycles is based there from which I’ve bought quite a few standard and very non-standard (i.e. not to be found anywhere else) parts through their on-line store.