Raleigh Eighteen by Kelly van der Toorn
I sometimes claim that I was born on a bike . The truth is , I didn ’ t learn to ride until I was about 5 years old . I followed a cautious approach to learning how , based on observation of my scabby-kneed , dare-devil big brother . I was an outsized child , with sturdy legs , and don ’ t recall owning a child ’ s bicycle at any point in my life , although I must have learnt to ride on something handed down . I do remember begging for a ‘ girls bike ’, like my petite school friends , which presented a challenge to my parents . Children grow at an alarming rate and any major purchase , from school shoes to a winter coat and bicycle , must to have some room for growth . My parents scanned the small ads in the local paper and started searching for a suitably feminine bike for their very tall and equally stubborn seven-year-old .
I
remember bicycle day vividly . It was a hot summer afternoon and the village had put on a fete to mark the Royal Wedding , in July 1981 . My parents are sensible enough to see the Monarchy for the modern day circus that it is and so I went to the village fete with friends , while they drove to collect my new bike . I was so excited . I had proffered a wishlist that included a basket for my cuddly toys , spokey-dokeys that would rattle as I rode up the street and handlebar tassels that would twirl in the wind . I wasn ’ t a girl who wore pretty dresses , but I wanted a bike that separated me , the wearer of my brother ’ s hand me-down clothes and a 1980 ’ s cropped haircut , from the boys . Coming home from the dissociating experience of the village socialevent-of-the-year , acutely aware of my failure to fit in with the starched party dress and ribboned royal wedding princesses .
My dad lifted the bike out of our VW Campervan . A metallic purple beast with “ Raleigh Eighteen ” lettered on the frame , not so much a name as a threat . Ugly as sin , closer in appearance to my brother ’ s Grifter than my wheeled unicorn fantasy . It was a bike that one of the local dinner-ladies , wearing an A-line over-the-knee skirt and a scallop-necked pastel cardigan would own . It was not a bike for a seven-year-old girl with an arm full of plush toy bunny rabbits . My dad has a keen eye for bicycles but neither my brother or I were remotely interested in the sleek ,
64 Cow and Belle | October 2021