Crispin’s Guide to Stirling Cycling - General

BikeRight 7.5 - Berwick-upon-Tweed, 22-24 March 2002

With the beat of distant drums and a stirring of my heartstrings, I felt a desire to be with my own kind. So, with spring in the air and a spring in my step, I was drawn to BikeRight 7.5 at Longridge Towers School, Berwick-upon-Tweed where cyclists from all corners were gathered drinking tea, eating muffins and squeaking with excitement as Dan Joyce described the new Cannondale recumbent. By 8pm there were sufficient numbers to mount a raid on the local pub. Admittedly the first pub was closed and then we had to navigate our way out of a front garden, but the mission was a resounding success.

Morning dawned, breakfast was served and rides were offered to entertain us travelling pilgrims. Heading out with a mixed group of recumbents, funny bikes and normal bikes, quiet lanes took us north into Scotland. Lunch was Greasy Joe’s cafe, where cappuccino was served as a white coffee with a squirt of aerosol cream: a CTC-approved sticker was noticeably absent. Our destination was Cove, a minimalistic fishing village accessed through a tunnel – but only after a lengthy debate as to whether this would get us back too late for tea and muffins. Returning via high moors and Abbey St Bathans we made home with 60 miles on the clock. Meanwhile, Jason (the tall lanky photographer chap) had led a 40-mile ride to Holy Island and Lindisfarne. Well, he would have done had his local knowledge not allowed him to extend the ride to 52 miles, taking his group to breaking point and beyond. In a break with tradition, Tom’s 20-mile ride to Berwick-upon-Tweed was a 20-mile ride to Berwick-upon-Tweed.

Freshly scrubbed, we discussed the day’s rides over tea, muffins and curry, and amused ourselves by convincing each other of the need to buy lots of expensive, shiny bike toys. After dinner, Geordie Ken warmed up the crowd with slides showing how he transports underwear and bicycles to Portugal, while Jason cooled us down with pictures of Dutch cyclists in the rain.

Too soon, it was Sunday. Destination was the Anchor Inn, Coldingham for lunch and excellent it was. Contrary to tradition, Gary declined to partake of an ambulance ride to the local cottage hospital and so we cycled together to the rail station for tea and muffins in the snack bar before catching trains home.

The Group (Sunday’s survivors)