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.
Alternating between the Royal H mixte and the Gazelle for transportation over the past few months, I've realised something funny: I have a minimum weight preference when it comes to commuter bikes.For fast cycling on hilly terrain, I love the feel of a light bike. But when riding for transportation in the city, the mixte is pretty much where I draw the line for how light I'd want my bicycle to be.Does that make me a reverse "weight weenie"?
What I like about commuting on heavier bikes, is that they tend to feel extremely sturdy in traffic. They also seem to have a more solid, commanding presence - useful when mixing it up with cars. I have found that drivers give me more room when I am riding something big and heavy-looking, possibly because they are more worried about damage to their car, should they accidentally clip me. Alternatively, it could be that on a massive bike - combined with an upright posture - I might seem like a more "legitimate" commuter to drivers. Whatever the reasons, I do tend to feel more comfortable and confident on a heavier bike in traffic than on a lighter one.
The nice thing about my mixte, is that it can go from being laden with bags for commuting, to being light and ready for a fast ride, in a matter of seconds. And, unlike most other light bikes I've ridden, this one is comfortable over bumps - a major plus. For those reasons, I have been riding the mixte for transportation more than I thought I would (the bike was originally intended for long country rides). But she is definitely my lower limit for how light of a bike I enjoy riding in traffic.
The DJ did an excellent job keeping the energy levels high, and even while taking photos I found myself moving and snapping to the beat.
