Pedal Power

My friend Alex Polizzi, is a keen cyclist and proceeds to cycle miles and miles clad in Lycra. When I first met her I naturally thought that she hadn’t got a car, or if she had one, I assumed it must be broken. I would often see her and her other half, cycling along the road, smiling as though they were enjoying themselves, giving a cheery wave, eyes bright behind those bonkers sunglasses that cyclists wear.

It was quite a shock to find that Alex has a fully functioning vehicle and she simply chooses to cycle to keep fit and enjoy the scenery.

It was also quite a shock to find that I am now the proud owner of a bicycle. No, there’s nothing wrong with my car, but I’ve got a bike. It happened quite suddenly this shift into the world of all things Lycra. When I was bikeless, my daughter Britney (not her real name) had one of those crap pink bikes with white tyres and tassels on the handlebars. Although she loved the basket on the front of it, the bike weighed slightly more than my horse and therefore it was, in fairness a bit of a challenge to ride when you’re only 7. Looking at the corner of the shed where all Britney’s old scooters, flickas and bikes were, we realised that everything had been second hand. So with Britney’s birthday looming we headed off to Halfords to purchase her first real bike. In my day you were given your cousin’s old bike and you got on and rode it. When you grew to the point that your knees were hitting the handlebars, Dad got a spanner from his tool shed and raised the seat higher so the bike lasted you a bit longer.

Good grief, I had no idea about children’s bikes today. Apparently, girls tend to be longer in the leg and shorter in the torso and that’s why the only bike than fitted Britney cost more than our kerosene bill for the entire year. And then there was the cycling helmet to purchase. Being a horse rider I’m used to wearing my skid lid and therefore we were not leaving Halexpensivefords until Britney had a correctly fitting helmet. My riding hat has an outer shell made from glass fibre with a thick polystyrene layer, padding on the inside and a strap to fasten it that is so complicated not even Stephen Fry could work out how to unfasten it. When I was much younger and hats were nowhere near as safe as they are now, I managed to bounce along the road on my head, crack my hat and avoid concussion. So I was more than a little dubious when Britney was standing in front of me wearing a holey piece of plastic lined with polystyrene, held in place with a nylon strap.

Crikey, if my child is going to be on the public highway without a metal cage to protect her, I want her wearing a full-face crash helmet and some body protection that resembles that of an American football player. Not a plastic hat, a pair of Lycra shorts and some fingerless mitts.

Undeterred; and with my other half’s credit card glowing red we marched from Halpriceyfords with a shiny new bike in a box and a plastic colander for protection.

The next day we kitted Britney up with her colander and headed off; Victoria Pendleton Jnr on her new bike and me and the other half walking casually behind. When we returned home two hours later, red in the face and our clothes soaked in perspiration my other half declared that we too, must get bikes. It made sense, running along the road screaming “Stoppppppp!” at a madly peddling child was only going to get us arrested. Luckily, Sporty Friend had 2 bikes she wanted to sell and she kindly said we could even have his and hers colanders as well.

The first afternoon we ventured out as a family on wheels was something of a success. We cycled to my brother’s house, had a gin and tonic, cycled on to my parents’ house, had a gin and tonic and cycled home. It was lovely. The ride home was particularly lovely. So after one bike ride, I obviously had to buy all the Lycra in the world and a couple of high visibility jackets to ensure that speeding locals don’t knock us down. I also had to buy some mad sunglasses as we got sick of getting flies in our eyes and a bag to fasten onto the bike frame to put my vape stick in. One thing I have discovered is that a gel seat cover and padded leggings should be sold as standard with every bicycle purchased, in fact if I were Prime Minister I would make it law instead of worrying about Grammar schools. The padded pants do feel as though someone has stuffed a large Pampers nappy into your knickers but once you are sitting on your bike, they are wonderful.

I also took the liberty of asking our local friendly policeman if there is any law about riding your bicycle whilst under the influence of alcohol. I told him I was asking “for a friend” as I didn’t want to arouse his suspicion and here’s the best bit: there is no law regarding riding a bicycle whilst over the limit, as there is no limit. He did advise me that if I was swerving across 2 lanes on the A1 he would chuck me and my bike into the back of his police car and take me home. Well, I could think of worse ways to get home, I mean in a Skoda Yeti for a start. There is also no speed limit for cyclists although you can be done for “Pedalling Furiously”, so maybe I should make it my aim in life to get done for that. Perhaps downhill and with a following wind I might be in with a shout.

If you’re out on your bike this weekend in your plastic helmet, wear something bright and stay safe.