by Chris Cowland –
It sucks to have a birthday close to Christmas. A cloud of inner resentment builds up as you pass through your childhood and realize the extent of your parents’ lies when they tell you that you are receiving a “double present” every year.
This cloud swiftly dissipated when I reached my 11th birthday. I came down the stairs to see a brand new blue-and-chrome Raleigh three-speed bicycle standing beside the Christmas tree. The cost was around £20, if I remember correctly, and at that time, it would have been the equivalent of a full week’s wages for my dad.
I rode that bike to school in the next town, about six kilometres each way, every day whatever the weather. I remember huddling up to classroom radiators with my wet trousers steaming, but with a grin on my face because the alternative – taking the bus to school – would have deprived me of 40 minutes of daily sleep. The village bus left punctually at 8 a.m., but I could leave on my bike at 8:40 and still be at school on time.
That bike taught me many lessons. I performed all my own maintenance, I cleaned every speck of dust off it each weekend, I nearly wore through the chrome polishing it with Dura-Glit, and the Sturmey-Archer gears were thoroughly doused in 3-in-1 oil once a month.
There was a garbage dump about two kilometres away, and although it was closed to the public, a bunch of us kids would sneak in every weekend and rummage around for discarded stuff, mainly old bikes. I once found a seized-up moped, and removed the front suspension forks, and built one of the first ever off-road bikes with spring suspension, from bits and pieces, way before the concept became popular 20 years later. It was a huge sensation at school: everyone wanted to ride it.
I have to admit that over the last few years though, riding pedal bikes has become an increasing challenge. When faced with a hill, I would swear that gravity had intensified over the years, so I began to think that bikes were a thing of the past for me. All that changed a month ago when I bought an electric bicycle.
With gas at nearly $7 a gallon, the economic sense of riding a bike that propels you effortlessly up to 35 kilometres for about 16 cents worth of electricity is very compelling. Zero pollution and practically silent motion adds icing to the cake. Top speed is not far short of my Morris Minor, at 32 kph. But the ultimate bonus is something that Germans call “Fahrvergnugung” – joy of travelling. Once again, I am out in the fresh air, I can set the controls on the lowest pedal assist setting, and pedal if I want to, and I feel I have more time to just think as I am riding along. Joggers and fellow bikers wave as you pass by; the world is a friendlier place.
Conor from Russ Hay’s bike shop adds: “People who have never tried one are genuinely surprised when they invariably come back from a test ride with a big, silly grin on their faces. It’s just like riding a bike, but you feel like a superhero!”
Try one and see! Get one for your birthday! Get two if your birthday is close to Christmas!
