The day that Rhoda went viral

Well, that was a bit of a surprise. We got back from our training trip to Northumberland and popped up a video clip, and 24 hours later over half a million people have watched the clip on twitter. Rhoda has been retweeted by Chris Boardman, Susan Calman, Jeremy Vine, police forces up and down the country and seemingly the majority of the cycling community in the UK. The BBC, ITV and Road.CC all got in touch to ask if they could run a feature of the video. 

So often we see or share videos of awful driving around cyclists, so this textbook pass from an exceptionally patient & careful HGV driver for D&W Agri coming into Jedburgh deserves sharing, as does Rhoda's response! They're not on Twitter but we've thanked the haulier directly. pic.twitter.com/t46zQvfFoU

— Family ByCycle (@FamilyByCycle) June 3, 2018

The internet appears to have been ready for a cycling good news story, and we are more than happy to oblige - you see, cycling IS a good news story. Cycling with our children allows us to share with them something that we and they love. 

 Cycling with our children teaches them good habits and makes exercise and the outdoors normal and enjoyable. Children are designed to move. They need to move to develop properly. 

Cycling shows us the world in a different way to other modes of travel and has taken us to places we wouldn’t otherwise go. 

 We need to be seeing children in all our public spaces, including our roads, and not just travelling in private cars. The roads are public space, for everyone to use. If they are going to cycle on roads themselves in the future, they need to be taken on the roads and to learn how to cycle with consideration and how to keep themselves safe. 

At the end of a long, wet ride, we encountered a lorry driver whose consideration and care in passing our family impressed us. The clip on the internet doesn’t do justice to the patience shown - the lorry was sat behind not only Rhoda and Daddy but also Mummy and Ruth, and sheltered us as we laboured up a climb, crossed a bridge and negotiated the busy stretch back into town. The lorry followed at a decent distance from our back wheels to make it clear to us that he was willing to wait and give us the space to negotiate that stretch of road safely. 

 In a world where everyone is in a hurry and those passing us are often closer than they need to be, all four of us were grateful. It stood out. 

We are raising our children to be thankful for kindness shown to them, and to show appreciation, so both Ruth and Rhoda gave a cheery wave and a thank you to the driver, so that he/she would know that we had noticed the care taken and that it meant something. 

We didn’t see the video of Rhoda until we got home and downloaded our memory cards, and we had to say thank you to the driver. We had no concept of how far it would go. We hope it triggers more good passing and more thumbs up and thank yous on the road - what’s not to like about that?! 

What did Rhoda make of “going viral” - well, not a lot, to be honest! It’s all a bit abstract when you’re 4! She was VERY excited that Susan Calman had retweeted her. She’s a big fan of Susan’s, particularly her Strictly Come Dancing appearances. And she was VERY excited to speak to the lovely chap from D&W Agri who called us last night, equally astonished at the scale of response to the video, and rightly proud of his driver, whom we look forward to meeting again, to thank him properly and reflect on a truly remarkable couple of days!

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Mike Hall - Ride in Peace

"I have hosts of friends, but not more than half a dozen the news of whose death would spoil my breakfast." - Lord MacAulay

Woken earlier than normal today thanks to a reminder for a dental appointment, I groped for my 'phone beside the bed and couldn't quite believe what I was reading. I was back in May 1994, with a sick feeling in my stomach, for the loss of a man I never even met.

By Cm2white - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=46001961

Mike Hall and Ayrton Senna were both extraordinary men. Both died at almost my age, doing something they loved, doing it flat-out, at the top of their game, and in days where they had expressed concerns about safety.

On reading with disbelief of Mike's death, hit by a car near Canberra, Australia, in a part of the world where cyclists  are by all accounts pretty poorly esteemed, I was reminded of the moment, sat in the back of my parents' car on the way back from church all those years ago, I heard the radio news announce that Senna had died. It couldn't be true - he was one of the greatest. He was only 35. He was an inspiration. It wasn't right.

There are those that have died during heroic feats of human endeavour, where the risk of their activity was created by nature - but Mike was doing something we do. He was riding his bike. He was better at it and more dedicated to it than most of us can hope to be, but it really hit home that this was a man-made danger to which he had succumbed. An avoidable loss.

Today's devastating news cuts to the heart of the long-distance cycling community - our community. As a family we offer our condolences to Mike's family, and to his friends and ours who today mourn his untimely loss. A fund has been set up to support his family, and the love and respect from the cycling community towards one of their own, a true one-off, is palpable. He lived life to the full and inspired so many.

Mike Hall won the 2012 'Round the World Cycle Race' in 91 days, 18 hours. He went on to win other ultra-cycling races, and to organise them. He was chasing the leader of the Indian Pacific Wheel Race when he was killed. 

As the dentist drilled my teeth earlier, I heard the Divine Comedy on the radio. "You have got to love what you do". We have the consolation that Mike, like Senna, did just that - and he leaves as his legacy a challenge that we should do the same - and do it to the full.

I wasn't privileged to have met Mike Hall, but I didn't have any breakfast this morning.

That smile. Ride in Peace Mike Hall. RIP pic.twitter.com/TlFyTG3i4d

— Sean Conway (@Conway_Sean) March 31, 2017

The Transcaucasian Trail - a trip to the Royal Geographical Society

Thomas Ivor and I had the privilege of a night out at the Royal Geographical Society one Wednesday. It began with a tweet about free tickets and ended with a Twitter exchange with the Georgian ambassador!

Warm welcome from #Georgia to dear Thomas @thomas_ivor to explore Transcaucasian Trial! @theTCTrail @RGS_IBG

— Tamar Beruchashvili (@tberuch) February 3, 2017

Tom Allen is a Fellow of the RGS, a bike tourist and adventurer of some repute and will be no stranger to many of our readers. I've enjoyed reading and watching the film of his round the world bike ride before now. If you've not watched 'Janapar', you must!

Tom happened to tweet that there were free tickets on offer for a lecture about his most recent project, the Transcaucasian Trail, supported by the Land Rover bursary - and cut a long story short, we knew that Thomas Ivor had a difficult morning in prospect and was due something to look forward to.

Now, you have to be 14 to be a young member of the RGS, so this was an opportunity too good to pass up - and the subject matter was fascinating.

"What will it be like?" asked Thomas Ivor.

"Leather and wood, I reckon", said I.

I wasn't wrong, but oh, the fold-out note-taking desks in the seats were a thing of joy to a little boy!

The project is an exciting one - the lecture was streamed and I will let it speak for itself! It's a part of the world so many of us in Britain know so little about, and both the landscape and the people look great. Tom explained, answering a question from Thomas Ivor, that he very much hopes to develop a version of the trail which can be tackled on two wheels.

This sort of stuff doesn't make it onto the curriculum in many state primary schools, in all fairness, and the free tickets allowed a trip to London to participate, without busting the budget. A surprising number of folk greeted us afterwards having seen Thomas Ivor at Yestival, the Cycle Touring Festival and elsewhere, and we had some super conversations which further inspired the lad. It was a real credit to such an august society, amongst so many high achievers, the way many of them went out of their way to offer their encouragement and interest to a little boy who aspires to follow them. We were even privileged to speak with the President of the RGS!

The final act of the night was our departure through the old front entrance to the RGS, passing the boards honouring medal winners. We paused to point out names we knew. I found Michael Palin, Neil Armstrong, Scott and Shackleton. Thomas Ivor (in fairness, at nearer his own height!) found Thesiger - a third nod of the night to the 'Empty Quarter' having bumped into Leon McCarron and spent time viewing Mark Evans' exhibition in the foyer.

Who knows where we might leave those doors bound for, some day in the future? That's an exciting prospect!

Here's the lecture we enjoyed, and I hope you do, too. Be sure to visit the Transcaucasian Trail website - especially if you are interested in volunteering your skills or resources to support the creation of an exciting new corner of the world to go exploring. We'd like to thank Tom Allen and his team, the RGS and Land Rover for their hard word on the trail, and a great night out.

Inspiration for the infants

We had a super night out in London last week, to hear the mighty Anna McNuff speak at Dave Cornthwaite's 'YesStories' event. Taking the little two into town on the train is a #Microadventure in its own right!

Ruth and Rhoda are by far the youngest ever attendees to this event - and it's always something of a lottery when you take children to something they might not necessarily be expected at! Luckily, they received a wonderful welcome and acquitted themselves pretty well, despite an inopportune event with the reappearance of a half-chewed dried apricot during the main event. We really enjoyed Anna's new talk, 'Let me tell you about a time when...', and she coped wonderfully with both the live regurgitation and periodic heckling from her young fans. We are very grateful to her for her kindness and interest, and for blazing a trail for little girls like ours to follow.

In Mr Cornthwaite's 'Just say yes' spirit, and with the car's bike carrier finally fixed, I didn't have much choice, then, but to take the girls for a bike ride (Thomas Ivor is away this week) the following day, so we went to finish off the Brampton Valley Way, which I will write a separate review about shortly. We've been gradually crossing off different parts of it for a little while now.

Over two days, Ruth has done 20 miles on the trailerbike, Rhoda a lap of a car park, and the 'Bike+Trailerbike+Trailer' combination has been well and truly tested pending Katie's annual leave. By taking the double Croozer we can use it as a 'broom van' to sweep Ruth up if her little legs decide enough is enough; we can't speak highly enough of the Islabikes trailerbike (very sadly no longer made and still commanding decent money second hand). It confers a significant weight saving over the Trek Mountain Train we used in the Hebrides in 2014 and much improved stability thanks to the rack mount system, and whilst a little on the long side (a couple of feet longer overall than the double WeeHoo, we reckon) it is a remarkably nimble and manoeuvrable outfit.

As ever, assuming we get that far this summer, we're developing another touring setup, with Thomas Ivor on his Islabikes Luath 24, now morphing into a 'bikepacking' setup thanks to our friends at Alpkit, who have made him a beautiful bespoke frame bag. Our replacement bikes seem to be doing the business, although I am reserving judgement on the strength of the wheels.

All things being equal, Ruth is off to cycling club tonight for a first ride in her own right, so for now, here's a video of our outing in the Brampton Valley, which we will talk about a little more, soon...

Dreaming Big

Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move hearts... If I can do it, so can you. #GodBless #TeamLH pic.twitter.com/i4xMTDPcJv

— Lewis Hamilton (@LewisHamilton) October 28, 2015

Thomas Ivor is seven years old. His ambition?

"To cycle the Rockies and the Andes".

He'd like to drive trains as well, of course, but at an age where I hadn't quite reached the point of reluctantly crossing 'astronaut' off the list of intended careers, he is remarkably specific about what he wants to achieve.

It has been wonderful, then, to see him taking inspiration from two men of my generation who have done just that - and more.

Despite a lot of opposition in his other home environment, the little guy has just romped through the final chapters of Alastair Humphreys' first volume of his children's book, 'The boy who cycled the world', which he and I are soon going to review together. I think it's a cracking idea for adventurers like Alastair to recount their amazing journeys in a way that children can access - having read and enjoyed the 'grown up' books he and Rob Lilwall wrote about cycling around the world, I am now just ahead of Thomas Ivor with the junior versions.

I am saddened by the paucity of expectation, and the paucity of aspiration, found in most state primary schools. The almost total absence of men from their classrooms is indubitably part of it, as are the entry requirements to a job which is too important to enjoy such low professional standards and standing. The fact is, children who dream big are those who think big, those who see exciting goals on the horizon, within their grasp but far enough off to make it a challenge, are the ones who stretch themselves, and scan the horizon for opportunity. Those who are encouraged to be disciplined in learning their chosen craft, become craftsmen. Sometimes that also takes for us to accept that academically bright kids might not want to spend their life at a desk, too.

For a boy like mine, to be able to open a book with a chapter entitled 'I am Going to Cycle Round the World' is precisely the spark that could light the blue touchpaper of something special in his life. I am sure that many children will read that heading and fail to discern the difference between that and 'The Hundred-mile-an-hour Dog', or 'My Hamster is a Spy', but even if there were other books on cycle touring aimed at primary school kids, I doubt they would capture the imagination quite as Alastair's book has. Thomas Ivor totally believes he can do it - and I wouldn't be surprised if he does, one day. Our task, then, is to help guide him, without pushing or projecting, and help him build the skills he needs whilst stoking his passion and letting him see where it takes him. Not all homes, or schools, provide that - and I'm not sure that parents are given the encouragement by our 'nanny state' to lead from the front in their children's upbringing. Every hero was once a child. Every school playground therefore contains potential heroes. What a precious commodity!

Sat around a restaurant table at lunchtime on Wednesday with a friend of ours, Thomas Ivor was told there was someone to speak to him on the phone.

Fresh off an aeroplane, someone stopped what they were doing in the middle of a busy day to spend a few minutes talking to a small boy from the other end of the country to whom he is an absolute hero. I wasn't party to it but we, and everyone else he has met since (the hairdresser in particular!) have heard so much about that conversation, and the dreams it has stoked.

Not so many years ago (ok, more than I'd care to count!) I photographed a young Lewis Hamilton standing atop the podium after winning a thrilling Formula Renault race in the rain at Silverstone. Still a young lad, he'd had the discipline to keep learning his craft, the drive to wipe the floor with the other kids in karting and the cheek to ask McLaren's Ron Dennis for a phone number, and then a contract. His Dad Anthony was the first one to reach his car as he parked it up at the end of the race. Three Formula One World Championships later, I can't say I am sure that the fame and fortune hasn't done him some harm, but the dreams of a little boy from Stevenage, fuelled by the interest and dedication of others, and the inspiration of Ayrton Senna in particular, led him to become that champion we saw crowned in Austin last weekend.

I am so grateful, then, to Mark Beaumont for making Thomas Ivor's day and talking to him about dealing with bears, and how he should spend the winter planning his next big adventure. Mark apparently joked with him about asking him not to break all of his records. The funny thing is, only this morning I was reading Hamilton's F1 column for the BBC, and of becoming a three-time champion, the former 'little boy from a council estate in Stevenage' said this:

"Breaking records has never really mattered to me, other than doing something similar to Ayrton [Senna].

Beyond that, if I was to match one of the others who have won more, it is not going to have the same special meaning that this has."

We must content ourselves as parents to give our children roots and wings - but a worthy target is something children must be encouraged to find, and dream of, for themselves.

Put my panniers back on my bike

Ask my Dad to name three racing cyclists of his era, and you would expect three names to come out. Jacques Anquetil. Eddy Merckx. Tom Simpson.

I've read a lot of travel books lately, from my son's heroes - Mark Beaumont, Alastair Humphreys and friends, whilst on my trips to Devon to fetch him, listening to the audiobook of Tyler Hamilton's controversial autobiography. Looking for a change of pace, but perhaps coloured by these tales, and our recent trip to Brittany, I reached for a book my Dad bought when it first came out - William Fotheringham's 'Put me back on my bike', the definitive autobiography of Simpson, famous as the first Brit to wear the maillot jaune and the rainbow jersey of the World Champion, and indubitably more famous for dying, dehydrated and suffering the effects of a cocktail of amphetamines and alcohol, on Mont Ventoux on Stage 13 of 1967's Tour de France.

I very much enjoyed the book, with its clever non-chronological structure, dancing back and forth between present, past and 13 July '67 to maintain a thematic approach to help us build a picture of the man as much as the life he lived, each chapter of insight illustrated by an episode from Simpson's career.

In view of his status as one of the heroes of my father's era, and with a cycling-mad little lad of my own, I couldn't help but consider Simpson's story in terms of examining my own reaction to his sad story, the lessons I would want to share with Thomas Ivor in consequence.

Despite being a lifelong teetotaller, and never having touched drugs, I can empathise with much of what Fotheringham reveals of Simpson, I daresay my Dad could, too, then and now. My paternal grandfather, like Simpson's father, was a miner. We've experienced social lift. As a railwayman, I can appreciate the idea of being part of a family in one's chosen trade. As an activist and advocate for causes including cycling, I can certainly recognise his efforts to build cycling's profile and stature as a sport - indeed, he spoke of it when made 'Sports Personality of the Year', calling it a "big honour" for the sport as much as himself.

As a cyclist, well, Katie will probably have a wry smile when I say I recognise Tom Simpson's riding style - it was literally 'death or glory'. On a decidedly more modest scale, I too have a tendency to ride hard and run the risk of 'blowing'. It is no accident that sees Katie do most of the towing when we're touring, because she is much better at a measured, steady effort than I am. I do the heroics. I step in at the end of the day for the last few miles if we end up going further than we'd budgeted for, but Katie, ever the more organised of us, matches supply and demand and holds a much steadier pace than me.

The trouble is, you can't speak of Simpson, or indeed Anquetil, or Merckx, without thinking about drugs. Even the era of my own youth disappointed. There is conjecture about the achievements of 'Big Mig' Indurain, and Riis, Ulrich, Virenque, Pantani, Armstrong et al were all outed as cheats. As Fotheringham notes in his updating 'Afterword':

"...the question of whether Simpson was a cheat can be answered in this way. He broke the rules... 

...Simpson's drug-taking should not be glossed over. It was as much part of his life as his whaler-dealing, his dreaming and his will to win; indeed, these four sides of this personality were all tangled together. And his use of amphetamine clearly played a key part in his premature, tragic death. What he did wrong was to take drugs, apparently to excess..., and to ignore the advice of those around him whom he should have trusted."

My Dad was almost of the same generation as Simpson. I grew up watching Virenque and co. It was one thing to have been immersed in the joy and excitement of those years of bike racing at the time, and subsequently disappointed, but for all they achieved, it's awfully hard to present Simpson as a role model to my children any more than the others. Indeed, I think the thing Thomas Ivor could learn from Simpson is that as noble as it is to dig in on the bike, there is a limit beyond which it is foolish to push past by any means.

It is also fair to say that there are other cycling heroes to be found, close to home. The rider who made the most impression on me as a boy was Boardman - I was ten when he lit up Barcelona on his space-age Lotus bike, and I remember what felt like a stampede at Leicester Velodrome when I tried to get his autograph soon after. Boardman deferred treatment which required banned drugs, to conclude his career. Graham Obree missed out on likely glory in the Tour de France Prologue, ditched by the pro teams when he declined to cheat.

I love bike racing, in all its forms. It still inspires me, I still enjoy going to watch, but there are causes to be disillusioned, and my most memorable days on the bike involve panniers. One day time and fitness might allow me to do more riding on my road bike, and to get more from it than just a sore bum. In this most exciting of eras for British cycling, which has inspired so many and for which Simpson must have yearned fifty years ago, I hope that history will ultimately manage to be both searching and favourable to todays British champions - Wiggins, Pendleton, Hoy et al, and restore once and for all some dignity and integrity to cycling as a sport, in Thomas Ivor's lifetime.

Doliprane - French cycle touring drug of champions...

Touring is probably the only recognised cycling discipline that is not an out-and-out competition as its raison d'être. True, the Mark Beaumonts and Alan Bates' of this world inspire us with their adventures and feats of endurance, but nobody gets pulled up for participating in a doping 'arms race' whilst flogging along with a full set of Ortleibs on the bike. There's an income to be made from selling adventures and tales thereof, but not from beating someone else at all costs. If you ride on the road, touring is the discipline which teaches measured endurance on the bike, and introduces us to the world under our wheels. Our competition becomes with ourselves; the biggest challenge to get out of the door and actually pursue the particular adventures that drive us. Nobody needs to cheat or put themselves in an early grave to do that. If it is possible to cheat on a cycle tour, the only person you can cheat truly is yourself, by not taking every opportunity that comes your way.

The more I consider Simpson's life and legacy, the more I want to go and take on Mont Ventoux myself - with a nod to the premature death of an incredibly gifted but flawed 29-year-old racer, but perhaps, rather than on my road bike, I would do it in a measured, budgeted effort, knowing that with my panniers on the racks, it is not the clock, or cash, but the journey itself, that is my reward. 

'Put me back on my bike' by William Fotheringham is published by Yellow Jersey Press and available in print and on Kindle.