The Early Years

I’ve always had a fascination with maps. Even as a kid, I could spend ages pouring over one trying to work out how I’d get from A to B. And I liked chess. Not a complete spod, though, as I did also play lots of proper sports like football, rugby and swimming. Oh, and I always had a bike, which I used to explore every Lane, Close and Crescent in Stockwood, Bristol, BS14. The first long ride I ever did was the 13 miles to Almondsbury Scout Camp. Killer. Got a lift home. Never again, I thought. As a teenager I used to cycle to school, downhill all the way, pain in the butt coming home, especially as the wind was always against. Thinking about it, it must have been a Westerly. More of that please. As a student, I had a bike in London for the sole purpose of getting to lectures faster and cheaper than the tube. And you could ride it while pissed. Negotiating Hammersmith Roundabout with mates when completely smashed is both exhilarating and very funny and something I would never, ever condone. Ever. And then I started work and didn’t get back in the saddle for another 20 years or so. Ah no, there was that blip. One of the most painful few days of my life, wrapped up as a pleasant cycle trip with mates. Perhaps the training regime of cycling to work for a couple of days wasn’t enough for an off-road, coast to coast of Scotland. I guess the Grampian Mountains and Clapham Common aren’t. Common that is. And, unsurprisingly for Scotland, I seem to remember it rained quite a lot. Luckily, after the first couple of days, my body started to adjust to the task and I was even acclaimed as ‘The Fordmeister’ for my attempts at stream crossings. Typically, shortly after achieving the title I had an amusing (for everyone else), if rather painful, ‘endo’ from which I still bear the scars. Even though those hills still give me nightmares, my overriding memory is of a great time spent with my mates, laughing, sweating and earning those beers. Ian, Clive, Pete, Jamie, thanks.