Losing

Having parents who were both life long cyclists it was inevitable that I followed the same wheel tracks.

My early cycling life was from the the warmth and snugness of a child seat. Later on the countryside was admired from the rear of a tandem. Around the age of four I mastered the art of bicycling on my own, a few encounters with rose bushes and a Berberis bush along the way.

Losing my mother back in September seemed to open the archive in my mind of early cycling memories, my parents didn’t own a car so the bike was the only way to travel.

Memories of picnicking under a poncho cape sheltered from the rain.

A tandem youth hosteling trip to Essex with my father and all we seemed to eat was cheese and apple sandwiches.

Another trip to the West Country on the tandem involved hauling it over the under-construction M4, before eventually arriving at Goodings YHA, a hostel run by nuns. It was a very quiet and peaceful place to stay.

Later on in the autumn of 1976 my father and I toured the Welsh borders for a week. Dad on his ever faithful Sturmey Archer 4 speed fixed wheel Maclean and me on on a SS 66” fixed gear Claud Butler. Both of us loaded with panniers and dynamo lights.

It was on this particular trip dad introduced me to the gradients of the Gospel Pass from the Hay on Wye side. We sat in a cafe in Hay waiting for the rain to ease, eventually giving up and hitting the lower slopes with unsuitable gearing.

On arrival at a youth hostel in Brecon we were told there were no beds for the night and would have to find accommodation elsewhere.

The nearest hostel was back up the Gospel Pass at Capel y Ffin. Not a nice trip to make in the dark and wet. Luckily we had had spotted a B&B nearby so all was good.

For a few more years I enjoyed the adventures on my bike, touring Wales, Scotland and many other areas of the uk, all on my fixed wheel and over geared!

Another standout trip was a weekend spent at Dolgoch YHA at the head of the Towy valley, we arrived via the Devils Staircase in the dark and rain. The trip was led by my late uncle, Tim Hughes.

The next morning we headed down the valley passing the Llyn Brianne reservoir which hadn’t been long built. The road/track was fairly new at the time and provided wonderful views down the valley.

1978 was the centenary year of the CTC, as part of the celebrations we participated in a relay ride around the UK.

Our chosen section of the route was an overnight ride through the Scottish Borders, starting in Melrose and finishing in Newcastleton. I have very clear memories of seeing the rising sun peeking over the mountains as we dropped into the finish and a well deserved breakfast.

After the ride we stayed in the area for another week enjoying the warm weather and a particularly warm climb up to the Devils Beeftub summit from Moffat, followed by what seemed a never ending descent back towards our accommodation, a small tin hut in the middle of a field. A river was close by for washing and candles provided light in the evening. I do remember a thunderstorm one night and thinking how vulnerable we were in a tin hut.

These are some of my early cycling memories before racing became an attraction for a number of years.

Now I feel I’ve gone the full cycle, now just riding for fun.

I’m eternally grateful to my parents for introducing me to this wonderful pastime on two wheels.

Words and Pictures - Pete Gosnell