Customisation
rapidly followed, of course. The chain guard was the first to
go. I can’t remember the other tweaks I snuck in behind my parents’
backs. I do remember the parentally approved water bottles, and I
can still taste an aluminium-tinged warm sip through a paper
straw. We discussed the feasibility of taking a hacksaw to those
clunky lugs to make them look like cutaways; even, I think, drawing fantasy
designs, but it was never going to be the racing bike I craved. But
I can remember, quite vividly, the short and long expeditions it carried me
on. That was my first taste of real freedom, granted me,
intentionally or not, I’ll never know, by my parents.
I’d
made a few friends at school by then, some of whom were also into bikes. I think my most avid co-biker was called Mike
Bone, but I’m sure there were others. The
furthest I can remember riding is Badbury Rings, which is about thirty miles
from Southbourne. We must have ridden
along Castle Lane, then up past Wimborne Minster to reach this Iron Age hill
fort, wandered around and marvelled at it, then ridden back home. We also took our bikes across the Sandbanks
ferry and hauled ourselves across as far as Kimmeridge and Worth Matravers,
noticing the landscape and the coast. These trips were to be a lasting component of
my education.
I had a bike, some years later of course. Probably several actually but the one I adored was a pale blue dirt bike, cowhorn handlebars and a fixed wheel therefore no brakes, no anything actually. Used locally only, mostly trips down to Point House Cafe by Hengistbury Head. But when I was younger I did envy that magenta bike of yours. I think it was the same colour as the surround to the cover of It's Everly Time, but maybe the shades varied a little.
ReplyDeleteWater bottle? What? That was a bit avant garde, wasn't it? Three questions are quite enough for one evening, even though I have others.
ReplyDelete