A Bike at Large is just me and the bike. In Dick van Bike we add a camper van for added chaos.
It all started when I was overtaken by a jogger while riding a mountain bike borrowed from my step-daughter. At that point, I knew it was time for drastic action. My borrowed bike was an uncomfortable, slow machine that I was glad to return when my first e-bike was delivered.
So the world welcomed a man in his 60s (with dicky legs) and his new e-bike.
My first injury occurred within one foot! Setting off for my first practice ride round a car park, I misjudged the width of the handlebars and scraped my hand on the cycle shop’s stone wall.
‘You’ll go places you’ll never have dreamed of,’ said the shop owner.
Prophetic words indeed. Eighteen hours later I was embedded in my neighbours hedge due to a clothing malfunction. Fortunately, before setting out I’d put my ego and self-esteem in the top drawer in the kitchen.
With the emergency ambulance on speed-dial, I climb a steep learning curve on a series of mini adventures throughout the north of England, mercifully with a diminishing distance to injury ratio.
By calling my e-bike a ‘Lifestyle Investment’, it took my wife’s mind off the cost. At the time she needed some new slippers, so it was a sensitive issue. Someone asked whether I was searching for eternal youth? ‘Not really,’ I replied, ‘more trying to keep out of my eternal hole in the ground. A pressing matter upon which I feel I must act swiftly.’
Fuelled by red wine and optimism I disappeared into the mist. Bike number one was a learning experience, but a fun one.
In book 2, Dick van Bike, I upgrade to a better bike. On this one, I ride across the country coast to coast with Jan driving the campervan. A fabulous experience for both of us.
The new bike was obviously much more appealing to thieves, because I had the bike nicked. Someone (or two of them) crossed a field, climbed two fences, took a panel out of the garage roof and retraced their steps. Much hassle, much disappointment.
Over the two books I've recounted many tales beginning when I was a nipper, via riding into a big hole in the Netherlands, to having some amazing days out on the Cumbrian moors. I'm now 64 with dodgy legs and the e-bike has taken me back to a time when I could ride where I want without fear of coming to a grinding halt.
Jan and I spend some time in The Howgill Fells where our younger family has moved to begin a new life. A wonderful place it is too. There's an introduction here.
The first bike is called Columbanus? Why? Well, he's the Patron Saint of motorcyclists. I have a cycle with a motor so it's near enough. Plus it sounds not unlike numb anus which sort of sums it up! The second on is CO2.