Another day, another tandem...

Last night I took the children for a swim, and after a text from Katie about an eBay listing, came home via Cambridgeshire, with a whopper of a tandem on the roof!

Now we've got one that fits Katie on the front and Thomas Ivor on the back, and one that fits me on the front and Katie on the back, pending the addition of some Kiddy Cranks which would open the way for me to have one of the girls on the back, and tow the other on one of our trailerbikes.

The new one has pedigree - the original owners rode it to Turkey, and it's already got a number of touring accoutrements. Looks like the fleet plans have just changed, again - and if it already knows the way to Turkey, that's one less thing to worry about if we decided to take off round the world, right?

'Pimp my Tandem' Update - Nearly roadworthy again!

Two steps backwards, one step forward, has been the way of things so far with the tandem project. For every two things I remove, I successfully replace or reinstate one. This has so far resulted in a 'decluttering' of the bike such as to cause it no longer to be rideable - but I'm not done yet!

Katie and Thomas Ivor's first ride on the bike showed up a few immediate deficiencies - notably that the handlebars were too low and were particularly uncomfortable. Katie, like me, also hates grip-shifters. The front derailleur's spring is so strong, they spent the whole ride in the little ring, because of fears the shifter would break if put under enough force to move the derailleur! Brakes were a bit uneven, the stoker bars were really scabby and poked the captain up the bum when getting on and off. Otherwise, though, the fit was not all that bad, and we are reassured that the bike can be a useful member of our fleet, if not necessarily in the capacity we were anticipating when we first started looking at multi-seat bikes on eBay!

The list of jobs ran something like this, we felt:

Tranche 1 - Make it rideable for minimal cost!

• Get rid of the stoker's bar tape - just make it stop!
• Clean everything else.
• Remove the rear rack, clean out all the bosses and put new stainless screws in (we already have a stash)
• Swap out the handlebars and shifters for spares we already own; swap V brake arms while we're at it
• Raise the handlebars as far as we can
• Swap the saddles for spares which may be more comfortable in the short term
• Try a really long seat post to see if Daddy could ever ride it without being impaled or crippled
• Assuming the above are successful, fit handlebar bag bracket, front lamp bracket, some old bottle cages and order some spare inner tubes for initial rides out.
• Do some homework on drivetrain options, including replacing worn-out components and fitting kiddy cranks.

Tranche 2a - Drivetrain and Stoker Refurbishment (budget dependent on whether we are going to do 2b in the longer term!)

• New chainrings, cassette and chains (need to consider possible upgrade to 8 speed or more)
• New front and rear derailleurs (front is stiff; rear is broken!)
• Consider fitting kiddy cranks
• New stoker bars and possibly stems

Tranche 2b - Wheelset replacement

• Two nice, shiny new 26", 48 hole wheels. Mummy has already requested a dynamo hub, if we go this far!

Tranche 3+ - Icing on the cake if we are totally invested in the thing!

• A frame and fork respray
• Custom frame bags (tent pole carriers!)

Tranche X - Nice-to-haves which we can use on other bikes anyway, not time critical.

• Nicer water bottles
• Speed and cadence sensor
• Front and rear racks

I've got a few bits to tinker with today, at which, hopefully, a first proper ride (and some pictures being taken in daylight) can take place at the weekend, and I can start totting up the costs so far, which should be decidedly modest. For once, I am making that a particular challenge!

Two's company; three's an aspiration! Buying our first tandem.

The auction had sat at about £125 for a couple of days. We hit the 'watch' button.

A couple of hours before the end, someone bid £155. Unless it went for a song, it was too much of a risk. It was obviously going to clear £200 at the end. We had a chat as I got the barbecue out to cook dinner, and decided we'd leave it. 

3 minutes to go and I sneaked another look. No movement. "I'm going in, just in case", I called to Katie. "No more than £200 and it's worth a punt, right?".

"Go on, then. Nothing ventured...", said Katie, sticking her head out of the back door. 

I put in £205, just in case it was close. Don't tell her, will you. My finger hovered over the button for what wouldn't have been the first entirely futile attempt at an auction 'snipe' lately. 

10 seconds. The house WiFi had better hold up, out here in the garden, or this was going to be upsetting.

I think I actually saw '3 seconds' just as I hit the button, and the screen went blank for a what felt like at least a week.

Eventually, it became apparent that yes, we had just bought our first tandem - a Thorn Voyager - for the princely sum of one hundred and eighty-two pounds and thirty-three pence.

Er, ok... now we've got to fetch it! Not so simple when there was no way I would fit on it, we had no idea if any of the five of us would fit on the back without adaptations, and we didn't have a tandem carrier for the car - the latter would have cost more than the bike.

Our brave but possibly foolhardy plan for Katie, under the weather lately, to make a late night trip to a Luton postcode and cycle home, not just on a bike she'd never set eyes on before, but her first ever tandem ride, and do 30+ miles home in the dark, was eventually cast aside (to our mutual disappointment - we like a challenge!) for the more practical solution of stripping out our people carrier, which was in dire need of a litter-pick anyway.

Luckily, our new purchase fits without too much bother, with the wheels off, and I only bent the mudguard stays very slightly, getting it home. In the same way, I only took a bit of paint off the front door getting it in the house, and Katie and I sat on the settee to eat our dinner, watching 'Gray's Anatomy' through the latest addition to the family, still a bit bewildered at what we'd done.

A bit of work since then, and every single member of the family having sat on it in some way, has proved that Katie fits on the front, Thomas Ivor fits on the back, and we ought to have no trouble adding a trailerbike rack on the back (although the scarcity of spare Islabikes racks is once more, a pain in the posterior) so that together they can tow one of the girls.

Our new tandem (as yet awaiting the decision of the naming committee) is no spring chicken. It's old school bike engineering in many ways; a steel frame, lots of chromed bits; solid, heavy-looking cranksets with a Suntour front derailleur (remember them?) and seven gears on the back. We haven't had a grown up bike with V brakes for quite a while! The paint is thin, and there's some rust. But it's a simple, rugged design, and now the manky bar tape is off, we're on our way.

Katie and Thomas Ivor went out for their first ride last night, and didn't die, so whilst it may be a brief dalliance that leads to a different machine in the end, we have a little project on our hands - and I think it's going to be fun. It will be interesting to see how much we can do with the beast, with things we already have in the cupboard... #PimpMyTandem is born!

"Ride the bike, Ruth!" - Entering the world of Under 8s cyclocross racing...

Ruth ByCycle is not a little girl to sit around and wait for things to happen to her.  Oh no.  Since she could first talk and walk, she has made things happen.  Some of the things have been very successful, others, not so much.  She learned to open doors, and baby gates because she wanted to get out to have a crack at more exciting things she could see on the other side.  She cut her own hair, because frankly Mummy was taking far too long about arranging a hair appointment.  She helped herself to her brother’s bike packing bags and tried to fit them to her frame when it seemed that Mummy and Daddy had failed to realise that 3 year olds need bike packing kit.

So it should have come as no surprise that when Ruth, now 4, decided she wanted to enter a race on her bike, Ruth was going to enter a race on her bike.  Or rather, on her brother’s bike.  Ruth had decided that she was going to need something more competitive than her 16” wheels, so 'Merida' was consigned to the cupboard and Ruth pestered Daddy until he conceded that she could have a go on the semi-retired 20” Islabikes Beinn, which, she pointed out, she could test ride on the turbo trainer.  The reach was a bit more of a stretch than ideal, but having taken it for a spin around our usual training ground, the nearby “Secret Squirrel Velodrome”, Tom was happy enough that she wasn’t going to do herself a mischief.

Training with Dan Lloyd. Like a boss.

So it was that we found ourselves headed for the Milton Keynes Bowl on the cold but sunny morning of 30 September.  

Until this morning,  I associated “the Bowl” with concerts - not bike racing.  We arrive in the car park (such is our eagerness that we are uncharacteristically early) and get Beinn the bike out, and some extra layers to keep Ruth warm while we wait for the race to start.  

Kit is very important to our little people.  They want to feel part of things, so Ruth was already fully kitted out in her mini Canyon-SRAM jersey, her tri shorts and leg warmers (again, shamelessly pinched from big brother @Thomas_Ivor) and had been since she arrived in our bedroom at 6am declaring herself “ready”.  Rhoda, likewise, absolutely required full cycling kit for her role as her big sister’s chief cheerleader, but equally absolutely shunned the idea of wearing anything to cover her legs, so it was shorts for her.

“Mummy, I need my Laura Trott plaits”.  I dutifully braid Ruth’s hair to her satisfaction - if it’s good enough for an Olympian, Ruth thinks it will probably do for her first race.  “I need plaits too”.  Rhoda likewise, is soon sporting her own tribute to the mighty Laura Trott - if you need proof of what the influence of successful women on little girls can be, look no further than these two!

We were ready: time to sign on.  We walked through to the bowl from the car park. As well as being Ruth’s first cyclocross race, it was also Mummy’s first time at a cyclocross race.

It is probably time for a confession:  I am not sure I really understand the point of cyclocross racing.  It appears to me that a group of fully grown adults, and a smaller number of children,  take their bikes to chase around a churned up patch of grass over which they ride lap after identical lap and then go home in a muddy mess having gone, well, nowhere.  However, I am not one to stand in the way of a dream, so I donned my wellies and kept my counsel.

Arriving at the gates, I look around and take in the Bowl, filled with what looks like several hundred miles of plastic tape marking out a course that traverses and climbs the sides and bottom of the bowl, disappearing off into trees.  I try to work out where you get into the taped labyrinth for practice.  I can see the start/finish line, but struggle to work out much more than that.  

Clearly the under 8s weren’t going to tackle the whole course (not unless we wanted the race to last an entire week), but which bit would they race over?  The flat bit at the bottom?  How was four year old Ruth going to fare with navigating her way around this?  Good job we came early for a look at the course, I thought.

But first things first:  a very proud Ruth, grinning ear to ear, was hanging Beinn on the bike stand (which it is barely big enough for) by the registration desk and was soon clutching her very first set of race numbers, and a timing chip (which looked rather large) for her (implausibly small) shoes.  We pin and stick the race numbers to her jersey and look around to see where to get into the course to give Ruth a proper look at where she would be going.  Tom set off with her to walk along the course with her.

This was no flat course, and Ruth was soon having to work out that she needed to get off and push her bike up the sloped side of the bowl, before getting back on to roll down again.  This all took quite a long time, and she lost confidence as other kids warming up zipped up  and down past her.  Urged on by her friend Jake (racing in the U10s) and Daddy, she was soon back with us in the start area to be marshalled.

The body warmer came off.  The drinks bottle found its way to Mummy’s handbag (where all discarded items belonging to the children seem to end up, no matter what I do) in the name of "weight saving", and she was ready.

There were quite a few parents watching, but most it seemed were getting ready to race themselves.  At aged 4, racing in the under 8s, Ruth was one of the youngest competitors.  She looked serious as she listened to the commissaire’s instructions.  As the race began, there was such a look of determination written across her features- I have never seen her so intent on anything.  They were off, with Daddy strategically positioned further up the course to help make sure Ruth goes the right way through the taped maze...

Rhoda and Mummy begin whooping and hollering:  “Go Ruth!  Whooooo!”.  Mummy realises that she might be the only grown up cheering.  What is wrong with everyone?  Why is no one else cheering?  Wait, no, there is someone else shouting.  That would be Daddy.  We are potentially committing a cycle parent faux pas - I have no idea.  Maybe people don’t cheer?  They definitely cheer at road races.  Does cyclocross have different rules?

The race moves away from the start/finish line, and Rhoda and I set off for the side of the bowl where we know Ruth will struggle to push her bike up and around.  There is an interminable wait (at least three minutes) until we can see Ruth well enough to see how she’s doing.  She is dead last.  She is crying but she is still riding the bike.  She approaches the bottom of the hill and looks unsure.  “That’s it Ruth” - I can hear Tom hollering.  “Jump off and push, now”

“GO RUTH!”  Rhoda joins in.  

“Push your bike to Mummy - good girl - you can do it!”

She heaves.  The grass is wet and she struggles for grip.  She sobs, but she doesn’t stop.  The first child laps her.  She stops while they pass her but then she is moving again.

“Ruthie, Ruthie, Ruthie!  You’re doing it - keep going!”

We are still the only parents cheering.  People are looking.  And frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. That’s my girl, and I’m going to make ALL the noise for her.

She crests the hill, briefly triumphant.  Rhoda and I are jubilant and immediately make a lot more noise.  Tom (down the bottom) is louder still.

Now, get back on the bike, Ruth, I think.

She is still walking.  She turns and looks doubtfully at the slope back down, now churned by the wheels of the previous 30 odd kids to pass over it (twice by now).   She stops and looks some more. 

“Get on your bike, Ruth”, I venture.

“Ride the bike, Ruth”, I hear Tom shouting from some considerable distance away, and briefly register what a ludicrous thing to shout this must sound to anyone else who came here to watch a bike race.

Ruth has rolled down slopes like this hundreds of times, but in this moment she has misplaced the confidence to do it.  She scrambles down slowly on foot until she is back on the level.  She is still running with the bike.

“GET ON YOUR BIKE, Ruth!” She looks at me.  Tear stained.  Muddy.   I want to go and grab her and hug her and take her home.  “You can do it Ruth -just get on your bike!”  She looks daggers at me, briefly, but then climbs on and pedals away from me. She expects to see a flag at the finish (and so do I - she has taken over 9 minutes at this point).  There is no flag.  So she..... sets off for a second lap.  Just like that,  no fuss.  She’s just as intent as she was for the first lap, as the entire field begins to lap her again.  

I can see Tom jogging along with her.  She is making good progress along the bottom of the bowl, and then, they are back at the slope again.

“You can do it, Ruth, up you come!”

She gets off, she grits her teeth. She wails, she cries, she shouts, she growls, but she does it.  Herself.  She is up.  Other parents look at us like we are a) insane and b) possibly torturing our daughter, who is by now so far behind the field that it is starting to look like she isn’t even in the same race.

“Ruthie! Ruthie! Ruthie!  You’re a star! You did it! Woooohooo!”  

She rounds the corner and again refuses to ride down the slope, and slip-slithers her way back down.  The determination face is there again at the bottom.  She is going to finish this.

Rhoda and I hare back down to the finish area, waiting for the marshals to allow us to cross the course to get back.

Ruth is there, muddy, beaming ear to ear.  She came in last, and probably about a minute after the rest of the race finished, one lap down on most of the other participants, but she did it.  

I ask her what she might like as a treat for completing her first race.  She wants to watch the podium. She doesn’t say it, but I watch her as her friend Jake collects a medal and I can see on her face that she knows that one day that will be her on the podium.

Medals awarded, Ruth is back to business.  “Mummy, I have thought of what I would like. An egg sandwich.  And when we do this next week, I would like to win”.

"Next week?"  What?  We have to do this again?

Footnote: Ruth has indeed been Cyclocrossing again, on a brand new steed. As if we could stop her...

We are very grateful for the warm welcome (and cake!) we all received at the MK Bowl, from the Central Cyclocross League. You can find out more about the Central Cyclocross League on their website, and if you're elsewhere in the country, try the British Cycling website for Cyclocross events listings near you.

My day at Islabikes - by Thomas Ivor

My day at Islabikes was amazing thanks to Isla Rowntree, Rob Burns and the rest of the team at Islabikes.

Firstly I had a tour of the factory and met all the sales and social media people and had a quick look at some #Imagine project frames ready for testing to see how strong they were. Next we moved on to the customer service team who you will speak to if you need anything from them. After your call they will find the spares and send them within two days. That room also is where the Luaths, Creigs, Pro series and adult bikes are built; there is a conveyor belt to take those bikes down for the 4pm lorry to arrive and take the bikes all over the world.

We went downstairs and met all the people who build the Beinns, Cnocs and Rothans. I also met RJ who was going to help service King Louis with me. The people who build the bikes take a box with a bike in it and build it to RJ's exacting standards. All the standards and rules are in a big folder for all the bikes.

Rob B took us for a drink upstairs and then we went back to RJ to strip King Louis. I learnt about lots of parts and looked inside them. We then swapped bits over like the gear cables and bar tape. Once we had finished it was time for lunch. We had to get out more chairs because not all of us could fit round the table!

After lunch Steve, Rob and I got changed to go for a mountain bike ride; they had lent me one of their Pro series Creig 24s to ride and kindly put my pedals on it. Our route was very hilly. There was one enormous hill where Daddy had to start walking half way up!

We were about to enter a long boggy section where the ride really was going to begin. I had never been mountain biking before, and it was a good job I had watched some GMBN videos or would have had no idea of what to do.


We finally got to the end and went back to the factory where I watched the team test their puncture repair kits for a big ride they were preparing for. Afterwards Rob took me into the showroom, where there lay a new bike for me to have new adventures with - I loved it. I named it 'King Louis II'. I said so many 'thank you's and said goodbye. It had been a grand day out in Shropshire and I hope that we can do some more things together again.

Coming soon: Islabikes - A parent's perspective!

Trailerbike Time

One of the peculiarities of cycling with a family, particularly over significant distances, is the array of peculiar and bespoke kit you end up using. With the size of children being an ever-changing feast, one year's solution may well not be the next, and when you have multiple children, different pieces of kit go from irrelevant to indispensable and back on a seemingly reciprocal basis. Having first been used seven years ago, our trailer is potentially about to drop out of use again and we joke that maybe we should have another child so we don't have to deal with saying goodbye to the trailer! 

Watch out for an article soon about the different ways to tow your children.

It's also the case now that our growing family cannot afford to lose load capacity, which for us is more about volume than weight. As Ruth and Rhoda have grown, we need fewer nappies but a bigger tent. Their clothes take up that bit more space, although they need fewer spare sets. They weigh more, but are almost ready to start carrying some of their own weight. It's a moving feast. With the trailer leaving our touring setup imminently, we needed options to claw back some capacity.

Now that Ruth is riding by herself, one tool that is about to come back into play after a few years off is the trailerbike, with which we last rode in 2014 when we traversed the Outer Hebrides - Thomas Ivor's first proper tour.

That first trailerbike, a Trek Mountain Train which we bought off eBay for just £34, did us sterling service, but there's no escaping the significant weight and ungainliness of the thing. We had one of two problems with it of late, particularly the occasion when the folding arm's hinge bolt undid itself and the arm fell off the back of the car - mercifully at low speed in a town with no damage done. Unfortunately, the bolt, which has a rare locking head, was lost; Trek no longer stock the parts. It's been sat gathering dust in the basement for a while, and I couldn't help but feel it was a little more agricultural than the rest of our kit.

When one of the old Islabikes trailerbikes turned up for a reasonable price on the excellent Facebook group, I decided to go for it, with an eye on Ruth's next move. The weight difference is significant, and best of all it mounts to the adult's bike using a bespoke rear rack, rather than the seatpost. Our frustration at the small gauge of the rack (requiring adjustment to our Ortlieb panniers' clips to take up the slack, meaning our fronts no longer fit on the rear for short trips) was more than tempered by the stability of the setup, and the adjustable handlebars, which meant we got Ruth riding straight away, to our surprise.

It was then that progress came to a grinding halt, when our touring bikes (and crucially, that special, not-made-any-more rear rack) were stolen off the back of our car.

The chances of us obtaining a replacement rack were slim-to-none - but first impressions of the trailerbike had been so strong we weren't going to give it up that easily. Only a couple of days later, the children and I waited at the station for Mummy to arrive home having been to the south coast and back after work, on the all stations stopping train, to fetch another identical trailerbike, which was being sold with two racks. We were back to two bikes and two racks, even though it would be a while before we would use them all. I'm so glad we did.

Soon I discovered that for short trips and day rides, I could hitch the trailer to the back of the trailerbike, and we were mobile as a three-up combo. I will admit, it's like trying to fly a freight train when hills are involved, but on railway path, it worked a treat. Ruth got to ride, and if ever she tired, she could jump in the trailer. As it happened, the threat of the latter always caused her to dig deep and keep riding!

As we looked to another year's touring needs, I decided it was probably the right moment to invest in making the trailerbikes ready with a bit of a makeover, and so the #PimpMyTrailerbike project began...

Coming soon: How we rebuilt our Islabikes trailer bikes for touring with the littlest people!

Going with the flow - Bikepacking for pre-schoolers

"Daddy, look!"

More than a little alarmed by the accompanying ripping sound, I darted out of the kitchen wondering what on earth was going on, only to find Ruth in the hall trying to velcro her big brother's bikepacking bags to her 16" Islabike. Too much 'Mountain Bikes and Bothy Nights' on YouTube...

In trying to help her complete the 'play' task she'd started, it became tantalisingly apparent that yes, Thomas Ivor's top tube bag did fit nicely in the Cnoc 16's frame, and yes, you could strap a drybag to the handlebars without impeding the function of the brakes... and good grief! The seat pack fits under her saddle, too!

Before any of us knew it, we had stuffed some down jackets in the bags and were out at the bandstand, little Ruth lapping with tremendous fervour. A little boy on a kick scooter tried to race her, and that was it - she was off like a miniature, female, cycle touring Jeremy Clarkson.

I've written before about giving little children opportunities that others might think beyond them, but a bit like the cadence sensor when I taught Thomas Ivor to change gear, this one came as if from nowhere. It's only last June when Ruth was helping to hold her big brother's bike when 'King Louis' was being measured for a frame bag, and here we were witnessing another seminal moment. I mean, why shouldn't a little girl of just turned four have a set of bikepacking bags?

The next day we found ourselves in Newthorpe once more, and this time it was 'Merida's turn (it would seem so to have been named!) for 'the treatment' (see below for spec list).

Self evidently, it would be pointless spending a significant amount of money on a lightweight bike only to hand a child a load of weight to slow them down, or to impede their recently-learned steering, pedalling or braking, but the three bags come to a total of less than 450 grammes, and so far they've largely been filled with feathers, in the form of the down jacket she would otherwise be wearing, and her sleeping bag. At that, along with her spare inner tube, Ruth's bike still only weighs about 7kg - that's still only half the weight of a 16"-wheeled bike-shaped-behemoth from Halfords, before you add the tinsel tassels on the handlebars and the 'Tiny Tears' threatening to fall out of the basket. That's before you consider that many children of four years old are still using the 'S-word'...

Children love carrying something on their bike, especially when everyone else is. Family life is a team sport, and they feed off feeling like they are an integral part of the mission. In this case, Ruth has decided that now she has the bags, she wants to go 'bothying' even more than she did before (which was a LOT), so we've had the maps out and have a plan in development. When we tour longer distances, we'll still use her trailerbike to make sure we cover the ground and stay safe on the road, at which she will have a pair of panniers on her rear rack, once more feeling like she's part of the team. She can probably use her 'frame bag' off her Cnoc as a top tube bag on her trailer bike.

A ride out today, five miles or so, with Daddy on foot and Rhoda on her balance bike, has proved that the Cnoc remains stable, handles fine, and most of all that the little girl at the helm of what looks every inch a touring machine is exceptionally proud of herself, to the point of stopping to tell everyone coming the other way that she was carrying her sleeping bag!

We had a little play with our new Alpkit Krakau stove as well today, and had a hot snack next to the river, on the edge of the woodland where Mummy and Daddy went canoe camping last summer.


A very productive couple of days, which we never saw coming! Above all, a lesson in 'going with the flow'; of letting the children lead when it comes to their adventures and their kit - because if they, like you, don't enjoy it, you probably should be doing something else.

Ruth's Islabikes Cnoc 16 luggage:

Bar bag: Alpkit Airlok Extra Dry Bag (£12) with Dual Straps (£5) - contains Alpkit 'Cloud Cover' down-filled blanket for sleeping in.
'Frame bag': An upturned Alpkit Small Fuel Pod (now discontinued and replaced with a slightly different shape. Luckily found one in their bargain bin for £12 which fits perfectly!) - contains spare inner tube, and possibly a favourite pebble.
Seat pack: Alpkit Small Koala (was called the 'Wombat' originally - review here) - £70 (some in the bargain bin with minor imperfections for £40 if you don't mind grey or yellow at the time of writing!) - contains Spotty Otter Drift Down II combo jacket.

Total Cost of luggage: £99

That's less than the cost of two nights in a Premier Inn - excitement aside, by your third night in the bothy, you're quids in!

Expectant parents

We are delighted to announce we are expecting a new addition to the family! Due on 28th. To be delivered by @IslaRowntree #BikesAreFamily pic.twitter.com/GG57m7Fn2k

— Family ByCycle (@FamilyByCycle) January 23, 2017

Ruth's birthday this weekend and with it comes the next stage on her cycling journey in the form of a new member of our wheeled family. We just hope she can tell the difference between the 14 and the 16!

Overtaken by events

It's been a little while since we've posted on the blog, although those of you who follow us on Twitter, @FamilyByCycle, will have an idea as to why!

The list of recent events waiting to be published (the pictures and some of the text having been put aside in preparation!) goes a little bit like this:

• Thomas Ivor has met and ridden with touring legend Mark Beaumont, given his first illustrated lecture at the Cycle Touring Festival in Clitheroe, has moved house, started at a new school, won some more races, appeared on the podium at the Women's Tour of Britain, moved up to a larger bike, and climbed Scafell Pike as part of a project to climb and cycle between the 'Three Peaks'

• Rhoda is balance biking and has progressed to using the Rothan rather than the Strider.

• Ruth now has her Cnoc 14 and is riding confidently on her own two wheels. She has started to use our new Islabikes trailerbike, and then stopped again, and then started again, because...

• Mummy and Daddy had our touring bikes stolen from the rack on the back of the car hours after this picture was taken. We lost both our Trek tourers, the Islabikes trailerbike rack, the bike carrier was badly mauled; the car damaged. We've replaced the bikes for the short term, and now the car's exhaust has dropped off in sympathy, a week before the MoT is due. We had a great time in Clitheroe and we've celebrated our wedding anniversary with a #Microadventure of our own, we've made a few little films, carried on finding ways to be adventurous and to ride bikes one way or another, and, er, neglected our blog.

We're still sourcing bits and fettling our new bikes with the hope of having some kind of a touring trip this summer when we had almost given it up as a bad job.

The good news is we have lots of things to write about and share, from the lows of seeing over £3000 of stuff stolen or broken outside our home, to the joys of seeing another child pedal off into the distance. We'll turn the story above into links to those individual tales, just as soon as we can, and we look forward to sharing our experiences once more.

Meantime, why not visit our YouTube Channel and subscribe? There are new films of all kinds on there and more in the pipeline...

Raining, nuts and bolts

Today's BBC weather forecast, like yesterday's, was somewhat off target. Just as we were getting ready to set out, rain came, about four hours ahead of schedule! In the end, vacillating between the intended trip and 'Plan B' (a long day trip to the National Cycle Centre at Manchester Velodrome) I eventually decided 'blow it, let's just get wet'. As we set off, the rain stopped.

We've lived in Northamptonshire for nearer three years than two now, but for various reasons have done precious little riding beyond the hundreds, if not thousands of laps of the bandstand we've done with the children, and the odd trip down the traffic-free path where I took Thomas Ivor to practice riding a laden bike. It is therefore something of a surprise to discover that even by British standards of driving, the attitude towards cyclists round here is very poor indeed.

Over the last few weeks I've been purposely driving round our town and its environs by odd routes, trying out different permutations and scouting out bits of cycling infrastructure. I've found very little that I would choose to use with the children, and pretty much none that I would use on my own. Width restrictions. Chicanes. Poorly maintained surfaces. STUPID DOG WALKERS! There's a rant for another piece of its own one day if ever there was one. As ever, contrary to the perception of most non-cyclists we talk to, we felt much more at home and safe on the road, being 'buzzed' by idiots in Evoques and Audis who didn't trouble to leave us much room or indeed see if anyone was coming the other way.

Anyhow, there was a purpose to our trip today. Thomas Ivor arrived from Devon last night for an unexpectedly lengthy weekend visit at the end of his half term, about which we are very happy. I decided that with the turn of the season, I really should fit the Busch and Muller lamp brackets we were kindly sent by the rep whom the girls and I met at the NEC recently.

When you have a handlebar bag, headlamp mounting becomes a little more challenging, and whilst I would love to have a posh dynamo lighting system, for the amount of night riding we do, the cracking Ixon 50 USB battery headlights we have are proving to be a super piece of kit (review coming soon). If you want to keep your bar bag on at night, you ideally need your headlight on your fork crown.

A nearby airfield also plays host to a cracking nut and bolt supplier, so going on the bikes and being able to be sure we had the right lengths and diameters was eminently sensible; £2:50 later we had everything we needed. The heavens opened on the way back but unperturbed Thomas Ivor and I braved it out, whilst the girls sat in the trailer singing nursery rhymes - snug, warm and dry. I have to say, despite the load it felt easier and the time passed more quickly than it does at the gym...

Tonight, Thomas Ivor has learned how to patch inner tubes and I have fitted his front lamp bracket as the first of the three that need doing. It always seems to be the case that fiddling with mudguards, racks and anything attached to your handlebars is always more bothersome than it ought to be. Something always won't reach, or isn't the right shape, or takes an age to adjust. I've learned to take satisfaction in getting it right rather than constantly being cheesed off about it, at which I am really rather pleased. It's good to involve the children in the mechanical tasks at a leisurely pace because it allows conversations you just can't have when you're fixing something on the road with time/light/patience/tools at a premium.

Thomas Ivor's Islabike now sports some new stainless steel rack bolts (one fell out somewhere in Lincolnshire and we forgot about it!), a set of lights nobody can claim they didn't see, his new Ortlieb bar bag has done the business and I'm not sure there will be a better-specced touring version out there. If and when he picks up his first puncture on it, after tonight, he should be able to fix that, too!