Last month I did something I’ve never done before. I went for a bike ride with my Dad. Without going all mushy on you, I must say it was very cool. I was riding. A bike. With my Dad.

Okay, I’ll stop now.

This is probably the first time dad owned a bike in about fifteen years. I vaguely remember the last one being a Dawes tourer with drop handlebars which spent all its time at the back of the garage because my Dad’s back didn’t like the riding position any more.

The new bike is a Claud Butler commuter bike you could ride with a ruler down your back. It has seven gears hidden away in the hub: York is a reasonably flat city, so that’s probably all the gears most people need. No lights though: I don’t know why but UK based bike companies don’t seem to have heard of dynamos. Very odd. The lock is just small enough to fit in the frame but it’s a bit of a pain to get out.

I was riding on a lilac ladies bike with wobbly pedals and three gears. Fortunately no pictures exist of me doing this.

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