I found it the other day – certificate no 6677/12 of the National Cycling Proficiency Scheme. It’s quite a big deal being honoured for your “skilful cycling” when you’re nine. I had to navigate pop-up traffic lights in the school yard. And yes, I really stopped at them when instructed to do so.
Then there were the Slow Bicycle races in primary school sports day. Slowest without falling off won. I didn’t. Win, that is. To no avail, I alleged off-putting foul play by a member of the Red team. I was in Green, which enables me now to rewrite history and claim it as an early sign of my eco credentials.
And here I am “some” years later, riding off on a new adventure with our tour business, Ding. For sure, my saddle has to be a little higher these days. Though those that know me will testify it doesn’t require too many upward notches.
Beccy and I have been cycling around Cardiff for decades now. (Insert optional joke here about needing to stop for a break soon.) We think it’s the best way to get around our home city and usually take a bike tour when we travel elsewhere.
I’m keen to contribute to cycling being part of the fabric of Cardiff. Something that people just do. And if I can play a part in easing any social tensions along the way, that would be good too.
I don’t really describe myself as a cyclist, as such. I’m someone who rides a bike. I also run, walk and drive. I might even skip occasionally but for some reason social etiquette decrees that adults shouldn’t do that. In all these activities, I’m the same person but as the knees start to creak a little more, cycling allows a great sense of freedom to go out and explore.
And explore I now will, with a renewed sense of childlike excitement about the two-wheeled adventure ahead, passing on the story of Cardiff, with the odd anecdote thrown in. Telling tales in the nicest possible way.
With a fair wind, the occasional shower of rain and a dollop of goodwill, Ding is up and rolling.
I might even freshly frame certificate no 6677/12. For old time’s sake.
Mark
