Action 32. From an inspiring little book called Change the World for Fiver, published by We Are What We Do, a new movement inspiring people to use their everyday actions to change the world.
So here I am, taking action. Nicky, forty-four, mother of three. And that, up at the top of the page, is my bike.
Abandoned under a tree at the bottom of our garden, it’s not had much use. It’s a bit of clunker. Or so my husband Tom tells me. I’ve never ridden it. I’m not a cyclist. I can’t do it.
There is a good reason, I never learned. My mum didn’t want us to have bikes. Her brother fell off his bicycle when he was a teenager and spent the war in a plaster cast. So that was it, my sister and I made do with a tricycle and a scooter. I remember they were good fun, our garden had a slope which ended in rose bushes … and sticking plasters. We didn’t graduate onto two wheels, however.
Oddly, my dad was a bike racer. Not “pushbikes” (his word, not mine) but beloved motorbikes. Norton Commandos. He built and raced them, latterly he sold them. Of course, we weren’t allowed motorbikes either, although I did get a biker jacket at 15, all black leather and zips. It was definitely Meat Loaf and Rainbow-influenced.
And then, as an adult, I lived in a city centre, third-floor flat, happily using public transport until I got company car. Cycling was just never an issue.
Now I’m surrounded by cycling. Tom is a roadie. He has two road bikes and a mountain bike. He cycles to work, he’s a road club member and is currently training for a sportif in south-west Scotland. 170km, 2000m of climbing.
And there’s the girls. Fully-kitted, fully-biked up. Perfect balance and they can go the distance, albeit in girly, bickering kind of way. The talk is of biking holidays in Holland or Belgium and idyllic summer cycles down the old railway lines of Scotland.
Except they’re held back by mum. I need to learn.
I sent an email to Tom at work today. The post script read, “Please can you teach me to cycle.” He answered a few minutes later. YES. In capital letters.
This is the diary of my journey to cheap, healthy and liberating transport.
When the photo changes to a shiny new bike, you’ll know that I’ve done it. I will recycle the clunker and get a smooth-riding super-bike. If only I can stay upright!
