Why so tentative? Well I’m still a little nervous to be heading out alone with no experience of riding on the roads in the past 30 years. But, it had to happen!

Well actually, it didn’t! On Friday I headed to the bike store and got the bike down. As taught on my maintenance course, I checked the bike over and also checked the tyres…and there was my first problem. The back one was just 68psi with a recommended pressure of 70-120psi. And the front one went flat the second I took the dust cap off the valve! Not only that, it blew the core of the Presta valve somewhere never to be seen again!

So, for the first test of my bike maintenance skills…changing the inner tube. I’d obviously been very attentive and although fiddly, I managed it, until it came to pumping the tyre up as my only solution was a micro pump. I had reached about 32psi after 20 minutes at which point a chap from one of the apartments upstairs came in kitted out in his cycling gear to find a blonde in pink with a 6″ bike pump attempting to reach 120psi!

Thank goodness, he a) didn’t laugh; and b) had a ‘man-sized’ bike pump! Tyres now sorted I was then invited to go on a ride with him. I made sure he was fully aware that I was to be viewed as a beginner without a Cycling Proficiency Certificate (do they still do those?). I also wasn’t as fit as I could be but I wouldn’t let that stop me. But to have a cycling buddy was just what I needed as I didn’t know the area and was a little nervous of being out on my own on the roads without the security of an Audi around me!

So we set off…a little wobbly at first (me, not him). Had a reasonably short ride of just under 4 km around the local private estates, so relatively car-free and a great opportunity to get used to the gears, etc.

But I was jealous of his ‘man-sized’ bike pump. So on Saturday morning I headed to Halfords to get my own. But I’d not learned from my first experience of bike tyres and thinking I should check the pressure of the one I changed, I did exactly the same…removing the valve core and totally deflating the tyre. I managed to maintain the core in the dust cap this time and could replace it and the ‘man-pump’ worked a treat.

On Sunday, I’d arranged to meet Gordon again for a longer ride. I felt much more confident so we progressed to roads with cars!  We did around 11 km and I discovered that the roads I believed to be flat just aren’t! I used the Strava app on my iPhone to track the ride. It was really simple to use and gave some great data. It also told me that I was the ninth fastest woman to be tracked on one 3 km stretch of the ride. I am convinced the others must have been in manual wheelchairs to be much slower!

So, what have I learned:

• The saddle is definitely not my friend!
• My front wheel wobbles, so it’s back to Evans tomorrow as Halfords are too busy to see me!
• I can do roads with cars, so long as all the turns are left hand turns…not mastered crossing traffic yet!
• Motorists vary in their level of tolerance for cyclists.
• A little resurfacing of the roads around Surrey wouldn’t go amiss!
• It’s good to have a riding buddy…although I am concerned that his acceptance of both my speed and daft questions may wane after a while!

But we’re off…we are now riding and I think the next challenge will be to either get used to the saddle, find a saddle that is more suitable or invest in more padding!

In the 1960s before families had two cars most of us went to school on our bikes.  This was a much better arrangement than today when every school morning and evening the roads are clogged up with cars taking lazy kids to school.  Everyone had a bike and with so many on the road the Government was concerned about highway safety and in 1967 along with a load of other kids I took my Cycling Proficiency Test.

Cyclist training began in 1947, although its roots stretched back to the 1930s when cycling organisations were pressing the Government to include cyclist instruction in the school curriculum and finally in 1958 the Government funded the introduction of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) National Cycling Proficiency Scheme and cycling instructors came to the school to prepare us for the test.  RoSPA by the way was also responsible for the Tufty Club and the Green Cross Code and were completely detached from reality because we had all been out on the open road for years on our bikes and had already perfected some of the finer points of cycling, such as riding backwards or with no hands for example.

Most of the ‘training’ took place in the safety of the school playground where we had to demonstrate our biking skills by cycling between bollards, learning the Highway Code and how to maintain our machines in good mechanical order.  Once we had done all of this to the satisfaction of the instructor there was a final road test under the watchful eye of the examiner.

I don’t think anybody ever failed the Cycling Proficiency Test and at the end there was a certificate and an aluminium badge to attach to the handlebars so that everyone knew just how safe we were. I was awarded my certificate and badge on 19^th May 1967.

1965 was a mixed year for me when it came to passing exams. As predicted I failed my eleven-plus in Spring and was sent to secondary school in September in the bottom grade at Dunsmore (or Duncemore in my case) but to compensate for that I passed my Elementary Test for swimming a whole length of the swimming baths and that was quite something let me tell you, the certificate was signed by the examiner, Mrs Dick, who was a fearsome creature, Councillor Pattinson, the Chairman of the Baths Committee and Jim Duffy, the Town Clerk no less! Who needed the eleven-plus? Not Me!

In contrast to the Hillmorton County Junior School I seemed to be learning something at Chapel and what’s more I was being really successful.  Every year we used to take an exam, well, more of a little test really, and if you passed there was a colourful certificate with a picture of Jesus and signed by absolutely everyone who was anyone in the Methodist Church hierarchy.  I was awarded a first class pass three years running and even though the school headmaster had written me of as an educational no-hoper I wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned because I was becoming convinced that I was going to be a vicar.

I joined the Wolf Cubs when I was seven years old and after I had passed all the tests, had a sleeve full of badges and received my Leaping Wolf Certificate moved up to the Scouts when I was eleven.  At first I was in the Paddox Troop but later transferred to the Hillmorton, which was good for me because dad was the Scoutmaster, which gave me a bit of an advantage when it came to passing tests and getting badges.  I liked the Scouts and the quasi-military organisation that came with it with the uniforms and the kit inspections, the law book and solemn promise and the fact that I could legitimately carry a hunting knife on my belt without being challenged; it was a bit like the Hitler Youth Movement but without the nastiness!   My only regret about the uniform was that by the time I was in the scouts that old pointy khaki hat had been replaced by the green beret; I always lamented the passing of that hat.

I used to cycle to school and to Scout meetings but with so many bikes on the road the Government was concerned about highway safety and in 1967 along with a load of other kids I took my Cycling Proficiency Test.  Cyclist training began in 1947, although its roots stretched back to the 1930s when cycling organisations were pressing the Government to include cyclist instruction in the school curriculum and finally in 1958 the Government funded the introduction of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) National Cycling Proficiency Scheme and cycling instructors came to the school to prepare us for the test.  RoSPA by the way was also responsible for the Tufty Club and the Green Cross Code and were completely detached from reality because we had all been out on the open road for years on our bikes and had already perfected some of the finer points of cycling, such as riding backwards, blindfolded or with no hands for example.

Most of the ‘training’ took place in the safety of the school playground where we had to demonstrate our biking skills by cycling between bollards, learning the Highway Code and how to maintain our machines in good mechanical order.  Once we had done all of this to the satisfaction of the instructor there was a final road test under the watchful eye of the examiner.  I don’t think anybody ever failed the Cycling Proficiency Test and at the end there was a certificate and an aluminium badge to attach to the handlebars so that everyone knew just how safe we were.

In the 1960s before families had two cars most of us went to school on our bikes.  This was a much better arrangement than today when every school morning and evening the roads are clogged up with cars taking lazy kids to school.  Everyone had a bike and with so many on the road the Government was concerned about highway safety and in 1967 along with a load of other kids I took my Cycling Proficiency Test.

Cyclist training began in 1947, although its roots stretched back to the 1930s when cycling organisations were pressing the Government to include cyclist instruction in the school curriculum and finally in 1958 the Government funded the introduction of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) National Cycling Proficiency Scheme and cycling instructors came to the school to prepare us for the test.  RoSPA by the way was also responsible for the Tufty Club and the Green Cross Code and were completely detached from reality because we had all been out on the open road for years on our bikes and had already perfected some of the finer points of cycling, such as riding backwards or with no hands for example. 

Most of the ‘training’ took place in the safety of the school playground where we had to demonstrate our biking skills by cycling between bollards, learning the Highway Code and how to maintain our machines in good mechanical order.  Once we had done all of this to the satisfaction of the instructor there was a final road test under the watchful eye of the examiner. 

I don’t think anybody ever failed the Cycling Proficiency Test and at the end there was a certificate and an aluminium badge to attach to the handlebars so that everyone knew just how safe we were. I was awarded my certificate and badge on 19^th May 1967.

The BBC made some important broadcasting changes in 1967.  On television it began broadcasting in colour and the first two post monochrome programmes were some matches from Wimbledon and an episode from the American western series, the Virginian.  By December BBC2 was broadcasting a full colour service, with approximately 80% of its output now being broadcast in colour.  At Wimbledon incidentally the American Billie Jean-King beat the English tennis player Ann Jones in the women’s final.  Two years later however she got her revenge and beat Billie Jean in the 1969 final.  On radio, the BBC had a shake-up in order to compete with pirate radio and introduced radio one, two, three and four.  Tony Blackburn was the first radio one DJ on the breakfast programme and the first record that he played was ‘Flowers in the Rain’ by the Move.

Also in 1967, Radio Leicester, the first BBC local radio station was launched and this turned out to be a watershed in broadcasting for my dad.  Being Leicester born and bred and with a fascination for anything about the city, especially its sport, Leicester City, Leicester Tigers, Leicestershire County Cricket Team and so on, this new radio station provided him with his greatest possible source of entertainment satisfaction.  A little while after I think he underwent a surgical procedure and was permanently attached to his transistor radio and he spent about 50% of the rest of his life listening to anything that was on Radio Leicester.

In the 1960s before families had two cars most of us went to school on our bikes.  This was a much better arrangement than today when every school morning and evening the roads are clogged up with cars taking lazy kids to school.  Everyone had a bike.  I had a simple sky blue and brown Raleigh model but what I really wanted was a racing bike with pencil thin tyres, derailleur gears and a saddle so sharp that one false move in any direction would cut your arse to ribbons.  My bike didn’t have any gears at all, a very sensible saddle and it certainly wouldn’t have won any races, but it was reliable and solid and everyday I would cycle the two miles or so to school and back and, on account of the fact that I didn’t like school meals, go home for my dinner as well.

I didn’t have one of these either because this is my brother Richard on his Raleigh Chopper in about 1972.

With so many bikes on the road the Government was concerned about highway safety and in 1967 along with a load of other kids I took my Cycling Proficiency Test.  Cyclist training began in 1947, although its roots stretched back to the 1930s when cycling organisations were pressing the Government to include cyclist instruction in the school curriculum and finally in 1958 the Government funded the introduction of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents (RoSPA) National Cycling Proficiency Scheme and cycling instructors came to the school to prepare us for the test.  RoSPA by the way was also responsible for the Tufty Club and the Green Cross Code and were completely detached from reality because we had all been out on the open road for years on our bikes and had already perfected some of the finer points of cycling, such as riding facing backwards or with no hands, for example.

Most of the ‘training’ took place in the safety of the school playground where we had to demonstrate our biking skills by cycling between bollards, learning the Highway Code and how to maintain our machines in good mechanical order.  Once we had done all of this to the satisfaction of the instructor there was a final road test under the watchful eye of the examiner.  As far as I can remember, I don’t think anybody ever failed the Cycling Proficiency Test and at the end there was a certificate and an aluminium badge to attach to the handlebars so that everyone knew just how safe we were.