“Let’s ‘Ave a Ride On Yer Bi-sickle?”

Lots of kids in the area had bikes of all shapes and sizes: new, secondhand, borrowed, handed down, made up or nicked. We had a go of each other’s bikes and we often fell off or rode into things.

Around 1959 my Dad bought me a brand new Raleigh Blue Streak racing bike. It had Huret derailleurs, a Brooks saddle and it looked beautiful. http://classiccycleus.com/home/1959-blue-streak/  We went to a shop in Stoke Newington High Street, that my Dad knew, and got it. (I found out many years later that the shop was probably around in the late ‘20s and early ‘30s, one of a parade of shops, and he spent his formative years with his parents in the flats above that parade).

It was quite safe for a young teenager to cycle the streets in those days before many people had cars. Nevertheless there were no cycle helmets to buy then and so, like many I suppose, I practised in quieter places near where I lived until I felt safe enough to join a small group of cycling buddies.

If you had a push bike in your early teens (or before) you knew how much it changed your life. The sense of adventure was strong when you realised you could get virtually anywhere on a bike. Cycling to and from school or using a bike to do a paper round (like Highbury New Park, that was a bit further away from the Green), was quite commonplace. Also Clissold Park, Highbury Fields and Dalston were all within easy reach. Further afield were places like Hampstead Heath and Alexander Palace, which you could get there by avoiding busy main roads and using the ‘back doubles’. 

A group of us used to regularly cycle all the way to Whipps Cross and back. It was great fun there as you could cycle up and down tracks made by other bikes along what seemed like ‘valleys’ and ‘mountains.’

One day in the summer holidays a few of us decided to take on a huge challenge: cycle to Southend and back. So with little forward planning, like not taking much water, no suntan lotion and little money, I put on my shorts, short-sleeved shirt and plimsolls and set off on Blue Streak early one morning on the great expedition. We made our way along Lea Bridge Road, eventually joined the A12 and at Harolds Hill took the A127 along the parallel, purpose built cycle lane to Southend. To say it was a very hot day would be an understatement and by the time we’d reached our destination I had drunk all my water, spent all my money - and I was definitely spit roasted!

Having spent most of our time on the beach, by 4pm we were thinking about getting home before dark. Back on the road we pedalled away with me dawdling behind as the rest of the group were turning into dots on the horizon. By the time I reached Lea Bridge Road I was parched and panting, so I stopped at a pub and asked for a glass of water. That barmaid probably saved me from hospitalisation. 

Just as the street lights came on I arrived back at Newington Green. I could just about put my bike away and stagger up to the front door of my home. I was burned red and severely dehydrated and so camomile lotion and what seemed like buckets of water to drink was the order of the day. I have a vague recollection of staying in bed for several days until I recovered. Some things in life you learn the hard way!

Roj

John says: ‘We moved to Ferntower road on my 6th birthday. My best friend at that time was Chris Duffy. I remember thinking it would be great for Chris to see where I used to live - Sutton Dwellings just by Old Street. So we go on our bikes and had a journey that at that time didn’t seem a big deal - we rode down to my old home by Old Street and then on to Finsbury Square before coming back home. Looking back it seems amazing that a couple of 6-year-olds would be allowed to do such a journey although I suppose I never thought to tell my mum.
We {the Ferntower Road gang) would on occasion cycle to Hampstead Heath on our strange selection of bikes. The thing that sticks in my mind was when we would give the bike in front "the violin treatment". Typically coming back along holloway road if you drove close enough to the bike in front your front wheel would rub against the mudguard of the next and make a noise a bit like a violin. Very satisfying. Other additions to the bike included lollipop sticks in the wheels to give a nice pop pop sound , a propeller and an elastic band stretched from the top to the handlebars down to the wheel nut - it made a nice humming sound. Most of our bikes had rubbing brakes, buckled wheels or rubbing mudguards but we all thought our one was the best - my one was a hercules with Sturmey Archer gears (how on earth did they work?’