Over the weekend I rode with the Veteran Cycle Club of Northern Ireland, and am still re-living the experience. To say that there were rare bikes, stunning scenery, and a charming group of riders doesn't do it justice. Put it this way: It was certainly my most memorable group ride to date. The Veteran Cycling Club is a world-wide organisation that promotes riding and conservation of vintage bicycles, and the Northern Ireland section has been around for 3 years under the leadership of Chris Sharp - a vintage bicycle collector who is known worldwide thanks to the jaw-dropping contents of his flickr account.
When Chris learned that my stay in Antrim coincided with the date of the club's monthly ride, he honoured me with an invitation and I gladly accepted. I have never done a purely social group ride like this before, and did not know what to expect - other than, of course, a fleet of vintage bicycles that Mr. Sharp and friends are known for.
And so, on a fortuitously sunny Saturday morning, I found myself outside a rural community center near the town of Limavady, where 17 riders from all over Northern Ireland gathered with their fine machines.
The bicycles did not disappoint, though after some time my head began to spin from exposure to too many rare and never-before-seen bikes at once. I am easily excitable, I need small doses!
I was so stunned by it all, that I didn't even manage to get decent shots of some of the most interesting stuff!
Highlights included an all-original Lapierre Porteur, which I even had a chance to ride very briefly. It was so strange to see a real French 650B lightweight with original components, having gotten used to contemporary tributes with Velo Orange parts!
The owner of this bicycle (also named Chris) is gradually restoring it and trying to locate a couple of original parts - not easy with French threading and 650B.
There was a fascinating Gundle Work Bike. The manufacturer was apparently the predecessor of Pashley Cycles.
The huge front carrier on this bike is built into the frame, right into the lugwork.It is meant to house a boxy basket.
Keith enjoyed riding this bike very much, despite his racing background and penchant for roadbikes. I believe there was even a sprint finish involved.
Then there was the mystery bike - notice the peculiar frame construction.
The frame is unmarked and the owner, Andy, does not know anything about its origin. He built it up beautifully.Any ideas as to what this frame could be? I seem to recall seeing pictures of German or Austrian frames in this style, but can't be sure.
Rose rode a stunningly elegant and very tall 1933 Elswick loop frame that Chris had lent her, and she honoured it with an appropriate outfit.
And of course there were plenty of vintage Roadsters. This particular one is a Rudge.
The bicycle I rode (also on loan from Chris) was a 1941 Royal Enfield Sport Roadster. I have a lot to say about this bike and will save it for another post. But let me assure you that it is not as innocent as it looks - and don't let the rod brakes fool you either!
This seemingly normal-looking Humber is pretty unusual as well if you look closely: It has twin fork blades! Presumably, this was done as an experimental suspension fork, to dampen vibrations from bad roads.
There was more, much more - in particular the stunning details and the rarely seen components on the many pre-1940s bikes in attendance. But to list them all would risk turning this into a catalogue.
And so I suggest visiting Northern Ireland instead and taking part one of these rides yourself, naturally!
We set off around noon and pedaled along a route that was both beautiful and suitable for the sorts of bikes we were riding. There were a couple of hills, but vintage roadsters are not as ill-equipped for them as some think. Once we got going, our procession somehow naturally arranged itself into a fairly well-organised double paceline, and we would fall into single file when traffic called for it. Riding in a group like this really helped me become acclimated to the left-handed flow of traffic. As I followed the group on turns, it became more and more intuitive.
Let me tell you though... Riding bicycles on loan from Chris Sharp is not without its consequences. By the end of the day both Rose and I were referring to the bikes we were riding as "my bike." Chris almost began to get nervous, reminding us gently that we would be returning them after the ride. Thankfully, that is the only problem anyone in the group had with their bikes all day. All the bicycles present were impeccably well maintained by their owners!
The scenery we passed was out of this world beautiful. With green jagged hills ever present in the distance, we rode along the river Roe and to Lough Foyle - the body of water that separates the western part of Northern Ireland from County Donegal in the Republic of Ireland.
But the truly special thing about this ride was its destination. Around the halfway point of the ride, our group stopped for tea and pancakes in a traditional thatched Irish cottage. This cottage is privately owned, but by some behind-the-schenes magic they opened it up to us.
This cottage has remained unchanged through the centuries, which is a rarity nowadays. There was no heat or electricity, and so water was boiled on the open fire.
The fire mesmerised everyone with its glow and for some time we all just sat there, content to be warmed by it. It is amazing how quickly a fire can warm up the interior of a small house. We were all thankful, as the outside temperature was quite brutal.
Also as if by magic (my God, I can only imagine how much work went into planning this behind the scenes...), a gorgeous and delicate tea service awaited us inside the cottage.
Delicious pancakes with butter were served to the hungry riders.
The supply of both pancakes and hot tea seemed endless. It was not to be believed.
With all our bicycles lined up outside the thatched cottage, it was quite a sight and everyone around got a kick out of it. Even in rural parts of Northern Ireland vintage roadsters are a very rare sight nowadays - let alone a fleet of them, outside a thatched cottage.
It almost felt as if a festival was underway - which hopefully made it worth it for Michael to come all the way from Belfast to join the ride!
On the return route, we stopped by a couple more scenic spots and photographed the heck out of each other and our bikes in the afternoon sunshine. Rose and Andy were particularly picturesque in their period-appropriate garments.
I had considered dressing up, but the morning was such a freezing one that my body just said "no" and I wore about 20 layers of wool instead.
Once we were back from the ride, there was a great deal of trying out each other's bikes and discussing bikes, as well as discussing why and how we collect vintage bicycles. At this point, I am pretty sure my conversational skills had deteriorated to an incoherent babble as my eyes darted from headlamp to chaincase to porteur rack, to the beautiful green hills and baby lambs that surrounded us, unable to process it all as real.
By the time it was over, I felt drunk on tea, bikes, scenery, thatched cottages, and conversation. This was not a typical club ride, and not a typical club. It was not even a typical collector's society, compared to the others I've encountered. I do not know what to make of it, other than to say that I enjoyed it and would love to take part in more rides like this in future. Maybe it's time to consider a VCC membership? Thank you Chris, Susan, Keith, and everyone else I encountered for making me feel welcome. More pictures from the ride here and also from Chris Sharp over here.
In the morning they did warn me
And so November is upon us, and with it the November Rain. Funny, because I don't remember it being quite this bad last year, but I've probably just blocked it out. Today it rained so hard, that the water not only covered my face, but went inside my nose and mouth. Feeling as if I might drown while cycling was a curious sensation. I could hardly see anything in front of me, but thankfully drivers seemed to all be showing remarkable courtesy. Maybe they just couldn't believe that a cyclist was on the road in such a downpour and felt sorry for me.
When it is raining this hard, I prefer to be on a heavy, upright, and exceptionally stable bike.When I owned my Pashley, I often talked of how good it was for cycling in the rain. To my relief, the vintageGazelle is the same, if not better. The handling makes this bike unfellable. The enormous wheels and wide tires part lake-sized puddles, grip slippery surfaces, and float over potholes. The fenders release a mighty spray and keep my beige raincoat beige. Defiant in the downpour, I cycled with dignity even as water streamed down my face. And I arrived at my destinations only slightly worse for wear.
The other two things I like to have when cycling in the rain are good lights and a saddle cover. I was not sure how well the bottle dynamo would function when wet, but it was absolutely fine (I am beginning to develop a fondness for the bottle) - and my LED-modified headlight made me highly visible. As for the saddle cover, despite having accumulated many Brooks covers at this point, my preferred method is to use a ratty plastic grocery bag. The plastic bag performs two functions: it is more waterproof (gasp!) than a Brooks saddle cover, and it makes the bicycle look considerably less appealing to thieves. Not that many thieves would be tempted to drag away a 50lb clunker with a locked rear wheel in a downpour...
And speaking of dragging: I must say that carrying a wet, slippery 50lb bicycle up the stairs is even more delightful than doing so with a dry one. I have noticed that when it comes to lifting a heavy step-through, it is important to find a comfortable spot to grip - one that is well balanced and will prevent the bicycle from twisting or buckling in my arms as I attempt to maneuver it. Despite being heavier than my previously-owned Pashley, the Gazelle has a better "sweet spot" in this regard, and so I find it easier to carry... just not when the frame is slick from the rain. Still, I managed to wrestle the enormous Dutch creature up the stairs and through the door without either of us taking a spill, after which we had a cup of tea and recited poetry together. It is essential to have a bicycle that is more than a fair weather friend.
Sulfur Lake and the confluence of the Palouse and Snake Rivers
Twin Sisters Rock