End to End

By Derek Bracegirdle

END TO END is a detailed story including the history and geography of the British Isles. Easy learning of the United Kingdom combined with an enthralling narration of endeavour.

The text touches upon the wisdom of future philosophy. An endearing method of acquiring knowledge pleasurably and with contentment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Derek Bracegirdle
• Release date: Aug 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781903029091

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE.

EARLY BEGINNINGS.

If a present is contemplated for the lady in your life there is every chance that the sales assistants, at ‘Halfords’ will be most attentive!

The story does not commence here, however.

Any story has origins in history and this is true of the bicycle, without which it is impossible, obviously, even to contemplate an ‘end to end’ journey.

Probably the hobbyhorse was the first, human propelled contraption; it was a kind of scooter propelled by the rider walking over the ground, coming into its own when travelling down hill. This is a key detail in cycling; walking is the last resort ascending a hill, but down hill travel beats any kind of progress on foot.

In 1818 the early machines became popular following development by Baron von Drias; often they were known as ‘Draisiennes’, named after him.

Indeed these machines were the true push-bikes and the design was ripe for development. However, it is surprising that their popularity lasted for a couple of decades. Not until, circa 1839, did Kirkpatrick Macmillan develop the hobbyhorse by incorporating pedal-levers turning the rear wheel. The riders’ legs moving in the same direction as the propulsion of the hobbyhorse, but not in contact with the ground. On this type of machine Macmillan spent two days of his life riding from Courthill to Glasgow during the summer of 1842. However, this innovation was never commercially expanded.

Macmillan’s machine was the first device to have a gear, in that there was a definite relationship between the number of steps, taken by the rider, and the distance travelled; the controlling detail was the rear wheel therefore, the wheel was made larger than the front wheel whereas, the hobbyhorse had wheels of equal size. 1861 opened the third phase of these early beginnings: rear wheel drive was discarded and the ‘boneshaker’ saw the light-of-day.

Pierre and Ernest Michaux fitting cranks and pedals to the front wheel of a hobbyhorse thereby producing the first ‘velocipede’. It develops into the boneshaker over the next, few years not only being manufactures in France but, also, in England and America. This design was the basis for the bicycle of the future.

Improvements following quickly; lighter wheels, the fitting of tyres (strips of rubber affixed with cement or nails), and hollow, metal tubing began to be used for frame building: as velocipedes became lighter and easier to propel, so riders could cope with higher gears.

Achieving this idea, the front wheel became bigger and bigger….thus evolved what is now affectionately known as the ‘penny-farthing’ or the ordinary bicycle. This style of machine remaining in vogue until the advent of the ‘safety’ bicycle.

In 1885 the ‘Rover Safety’ cycle proved to be a significant break-through. The design reverting to rear wheel drive and the fitting of a chain, chain-wheel and rear sprocket so that gearing was not any longer dependent on the size of the front wheel, the wheels almost equal in size and the rider sitting nearer to the ground than on the old, ‘high’ bicycle. The reduction in the centre of gravity offering more safety, an easier ride and appealing to a greater number of people who, previously, may have been deterred from trying their luck on the high saddle.

Safeties’ growing rapidly in popularity and more significant developments following soon afterwards. A freewheel device, invented in the days of the penny-farthing, came in to use. In 1888 John Dunlop introducing the pneumatic tyre. In 1901 another aid to easier cycling appeared when Sturmey-Archer invented the three-speeds hub; since when, a multiplicity of gearing following.

The twentieth century witnessed many more modifications and improvements resulting in improved comfort, lighter and easier to ride machines; basically, however, the modern light-weight cycle, the diamond frame, is a refinement of the early ‘safeties’ and ‘boneshaker’ of 1861.

Variations on the theme following, all pampering to a particular need of the person who wishes to travel. Sprung cycles, small wheel shopping-cycles, folding cycles which readily fit into a motor vehicle and an infinite variety of touring, racing and specialist machines suiting all purposes and pockets. Indeed, there is something for everybody and none as popular as the ‘mountain bike’.

There are points of view, details to discuss and even argument to be resolved on the subject of mountain bikes but, above all, and regardless of personal preference, they have born a popularity, swelling the number of riders who, perhaps, might never have been tempted to the sport. This popularity only can be good because the fitness of the riders must improve and their well-being becomes enhanced.

Perhaps an item worthy of inclusion, with the passage of time, is the design trend of smaller frames, presumably ‘adding’ lightness. The problem is that, especially, the saddle stem must be longer and unless the tube is particularly stiff, rigidly is lost.

Fortunately my 24" frame has never been wanting! Not always are trends for the benefit of the public as emphasised with the development of the small, digital camera which, mostly, is now minus a ‘view finder’. In strong sunlight, the ability of viewing the enlarged screen becomes impossible. Apparently, the excuse is cost!

Against this background only was it a matter of time before somebody recognise the challenge of cycling form ‘end to end’ - from Land’s End, in Cornwall, to John O’Groats in Caithness on the northern coast of Scotland.

The adventure was ripe for plucking: the opportunity beckoning, transposing the person with a dream from indecision into a ‘champion’. Somebody with sufficient tenacity wanting ‘his hour’. Somebody with a genuine desire of transposing ideas into reality. The narrative started in the July of 1880.

H. Blackwell and C.A. Harman departing from Land’s End and completing the Cornwall to Caithness journey in thirteen days.

A year later, James Lennox, travelling from North to South in twelve days, riding 130 miles on his last day.

‘The challenge is on’.

In 1885 Lennox reducing his time to 6 days, 16 hours and 7 minutes!

A machine of the day could be-sport a wheel of fifty- eight inches and weigh all of forty-five pounds. The bad roads, of the time, demanding a machine of rugged construction. This kind of thinking was the normal formula for the late eighteen- hundreds.

George Mills making a name for himself, at nineteen years of age, covering six ‘end to end’ journeys between the years of 1886 and 1895, reducing the time taken for the journey down to 3 days, 5 hours and 49 seconds.

The erratic, British climate can make the journey a greater challenge, a climate which nobody can either ignore or by-pass. Therefore, a campaign is both required and demanded under the control of a manager who can organise a team of assistants and an army of helpers. The magnitude of this activity is difficult to comprehend in later years, when ease of travel and communication are standard features of every day life.

Refreshment ‘stops’ had to be established; together with times for rest precisely scheduled. The train featuring prominently in this activity and without the aid of steam, it would not have been possible laying a solid foundation for a record attempt.

The next most important people were the ‘pace makers’ who would extend and stretch the cyclist attacking the record. Their brief was covering stages of the journey as fast as possible, ahead of the challenger. More than one assistant could pit his worth against the man-of-the-hour and then be relieved by fresh riders who would cover the next stage. A ‘pace’ rider could, if he wished, board a train, travelling ahead, taking his rest at the same time, and then re-appear for another stage well along the line. They must have been exciting days for this new, sophisticated steam age.

Competing at this level of endeavour required the harnessing of the body, the mind and the spirit; if a weakness should occur in this chain of activity, then the objective could be lost. A rider committing himself to as little as three hours sleep in twenty-four hours: an average of ten miles an hour was, therefore, attainable, including stops and, accommodating punctures which could be repaired in as little as five minutes!

In 1879 Lawrence Fletcher riding 227 miles in twenty- four hours. In 1892 Fletcher traversed the 58 miles to Bodmin in 4 hours and 24 minutes, the 273 miles to Kidderminster in 24 hours and the 473 miles to Carlisle in 2 days; the overall journey taking 3 days, 23 hours and 55 minutes.

In 1890 the bicycle was the fastest mode of transport on the road! Together with the independence, a rider could forage from county to county at speed and will. Together with the razzmatazz of the day, including the ‘paced’ competitors on the road, and his entourage, it became un-settling for certain factions of people who still abound today. Thus, storm clouds began appearing. It mattered little to the people of the era that tramway employees were working fifteen-and-half hours per day. It was not until the May of 1893 that their hours of employment were reduced to eleven-and-a-half hours per day!

Anything new is difficult to accept; anything speed related is a nightmare for some mischief makers who persist decade on decade and generation after generation.

The elderly, the conservative of mind, people with a little learning only and inevitable nervous persons, had to be against the cyclist as a matter of course, or even as their perceived duty. Progress, at all costs has to be muffled. The ‘do-gooders’ were listened to, with utmost interest, by legislative assembles where the vote catching mentality is always to the fore. The appearance of the motor car repeated the activity with the advent of the ‘red flag’! However a nation can be so naïve is difficult to comprehend and, again, it continues to persist which is possibly the reason why cars are imported from the other side of the globe, extinguishing our manufacturing base.

The upshot of this intervention, in the lives of the cyclist, is that England lost its cycling talent and the continent flourishes, gloating at our demise. The result – the ‘Tour de France’ which, somehow, fails to conjure the mystique of the ‘end to end’ journey with the result that I purchase a French bicycle!

The outcome was that the ‘pacing’ riders were outlawed; they had to remain at least 100 yards behind the record attempter!

The facetiousness of this rule is difficult to understand. Never, in any sport, does this occur and the objective is completely lost. A rider at the rear is merely relegated to oblivion and is useless; a waste of effort, when effort is abundantly required. Always grant he or she, who compete, a position above the salt if the objective is achieved.

It was recognised, in those heady days, that distances and endurance require a great cyclist and a complete man: they are not, however, strangers to stimulant and both port- and-lemon and brandy were frequently on the menu.

The great George Mills, it is clamed, was administered the drug cocaine, by one of his assistants without George’s knowledge, putting him into a trance-like stupor during the latter part of one of his rides. The story tells of him having to be told which direction to take but, when his guides lost their way and had to stop, Mills fell from his machine and into a deep slumber from which he could not be roused. In this instance the plan and stimulant back-fired and it will never be known if Mills could have finished the journey if this enforced stop had not intervened?

Fitness was, and is, a creed for cyclists as the sport blossomed; athletes who could steel themselves, psychologically, against any obstacle, against all the un- pleasantness facing the long distance cyclist. At times it was pondered if some riders might be under weight for so lengthy a trial of endurance and speed.

Between 1903 and 1908 the ‘end to end’ record fell eight times.

By 1908 the country was rich in talent: a talent which would filter abroad – history always repeating itself. However, at the time, they were all unanimous in not liking the cobbled stones of Lancashire. These athletes all had one concern, and that was the after-effects of their endeavours. Not at the time of the exercise is any sensation felt, only at the end of the day when the effect can be mild or one of distress. It is a difficult phenomenon to control, requiring practise, patience and the harnessing of pace and planning avoiding the problem.

A respite could be gained during the ferry crossings in Scotland but, by 1925, they were outlawed which immediately added a further thirty to forty miles to the journey. At the same time, it removed a detail of arrangement from the agenda of the organising manager who, previously, had to ensure that a boat is ready and waiting for the cyclist, in order not to lose a minute.

In 1934 Hubert Opperman succeeded in covering 225 miles in 12 hours and 431½ miles in twenty-four hours. On the four miles climb, passing Ord Point, in Caithness, Opperman succeeded in averaging 6 mph! He arrived at John O’Groats just 2 days, 9 hours and 1 minute after leaving Land’s End! His average speed was 15 mph over the 866 miles journey!

By this time, in the calendar of history, some people upheld the belief that the ‘end to end’ journey, on the road, was the ultimate, British, long distance, athletic endeavour requiring determination, courage and professional integrity. Certainly Sid Ferris accepted the subject seriously.

In 1937 he journeyed a ‘mere’ 4.000 miles in preparation. Ten runs were in excess of 150 miles otherwise Sid preferring just thirty miles per day.

It was not un-known for 21.000 miles to be ridden during a year by a keen cyclist using the bicycle as every day transport: to and from work followed by an evening relaxation easily extending to 50 miles a day. Fitness was a by-word.

Sid Ferris put his fighting spirit and in-flexible determination to good use by averaging 19 mph, arriving in the North of Scotland in 2 days, 6 hours and 33 minutes! This record remaining un-trouble for twenty-one years.

Achieving a similar reward dictates that the journey has to be completed without sleep. The question persisting – will amateur riders accept this inconvenience? Are they keen on records or do they think that the subject is a wastage of time and effort? Perhaps quality of miles is more important, to them, than quantity.

In 1938 Lilian Dredge sharpened her mental skills and toned her physical condition by ‘living’ on her cycle. Training commenced in March, prior to her July start, and her target was between 120/140 miles per day. In excess of 1.400 miles were covered in thirteen days. The detail of after-effects becomes, again, a question to be asked. However, she was not able to draw on the experiences of other people for her ride. The journey taking her 3 days, 20 hours and 54 minutes.

The gearing, used for this journey, was – 46, 54, 56, 61, and 74.

In 1954 Eileen Sheridan using a 72 gear ascending Shap Pass" and never did she drop below 10 mph! Achieving this kind of feat it is reported that she used a ‘happy outlook’ as a pre-requisite for her ‘end to end’ marathon.

She is quoted as saying, ’It was a wonderful feeling of being fit – allowing effortless riding and being a part of her machine. I loved every minute; hard times were a challenge, and fulfilling, knowing that I have given my best’.

It can be added that – personality makes or breaks the aspirant. At the same time, it was, also, stated that ‘any fool can get to Perth’!

It is purported that for this expedition into the un- known, the first half of the journey requires class and the second part of the ordeal needs guts.

By the year 1965 there have been seven ‘paced’, record runs in the eighty-five years and fourteen un-paced attempts in sixty-seven years. Many changes have come and gone and for one, the roads have improved considerably. However, another problem had emerged.

As good as the roads might have been in 1965, so the traffic had multiplied enormously by that year; in fact, the density of transport, clogging the roads, especially the arterial, trunk roads and, including the poisonous fumes from vehicles’ exhausts, it is less of an inducement for the cyclist or the highly trained record breaker, including the support team.

In spite of this problem and especially on the gruelling climb over "Shap Pass’, reducing the heavy-weight, commercial vehicles to the pace of a tired snail, Dick Poole became the first rider completing the tip-to-tip journey in under 2 days! This tremendous feat is un-believable, and beyond comprehension.

Indeed, it displays an extra-ordinary force of character.

CHAPTER TWO.

EARLY DAYS.

Christmas is the time of year for exchanging presents and enjoyable as it is receiving a present, especially from a loved-one, it is equally pleasurable giving a present. The giver knows what it is and that person’s imagination can enjoy itself thinking of the pleasure the present will bring. Anticipating the look of happiness on the face of the receiver and delighting in the glint of gratitude in the eyes of the recipient. The giver can hardly wait until the first light of Christmas morning, priding himself, or herself, in the choice of present. The thought that the present will not hold the same esteem, by the benefactor never, ever enters the equation. Many are the times when a parent, in particular, will buy a present of his or her desire, or the present which he or she never received. This situation can never happen in the case of a bicycle because everybody seems to receive a bright and gleaming conveyance on some Christmas morning during their early life.

My first cycle gloried in being second-hand in brother’s cycling career. Called a ‘Stella’, it was my first introductions to Latin although, at the time, I am not aware of this detail. Performing its duties admirably at all times, it received un- told punishment, without disaster. It is this understanding that it will always perform properly which fostered my belief that bicycles never break down. After all, they have been on the market for ages, from the beginning of time, in my mind.

So sure am I that it will not come to any harm that never do I lock it in the shed over night. As children are, this child heeds not a word of father’s advice to safeguard my pride and joy during the silent hours when mischief might be afoot.

Imagine the child’s distress, one morning, when, emerging from slumbers. My machine is not leaning against the drain-pipe at the corner of our house. Father had contrived a plan, teaching his errant son a lesson, by hiding my cycle in the shed. The relief, on discovering my cycle, proved a worthy lesson learnt. Regrettably, learning by experience has become my forte.

Without doubt my cycle gives value for money. It ended its days by being run over by a neighbour’s car! I can remember marvelling at how stupid the driver can be – he knew I always lay it on the ground outside his gate! Did I wonder why some adults will never learn?

Probably this demise heralded the advent of a ‘senior’ cycle, one of my own, a new one; and it duly arrived, at Christmas time.

The make was a ‘Lucas’, in black, which is the only colour available in those happy, austere days but, at least, it has bright spokes, glinting in the sunshine every revolution. This, new machine becoming older doing the things which youths do on two wheels and, once again, giving sterling service, it never fails me.

Whatever the journey length, my perplexed mind is searching for a good reason for the torture. Perhaps this was mild endurance compared with the time when brother and I hire cycles on the Isle of Man.

A fabulous morning, on the outward journey, travelling East towards Port Jack, wind assisted, we were riding the road with both ease and ambition. The strong wind propelling us fast and effortlessly. The return journey was an entirely different story.

Two riders struggling manfully and almost in vain against a relentless wind, our constant enemy. Every push on the pedal requiring utmost stamina and every minute seemed like an hour and an hour like all of yesterday. Sheer perseverance bringing us home but it was not my idea of fun; ever since, I have held wind in the upmost suspicion.

The beans on toast never tasting better; this delicious, English dish remaining a firm favourite of mine!

Thereafter, my cycling days declined and, on entry into the Queen’s army, father saw fit, rightly or wrongly, of disposing of my cycle as un-wanted clutter. He might have been correct but it is nice to be consulted before such a drastic action becomes history. Thereafter, the motor car begins dominating my life resulting in the trilogy ‘Ten Years of Endeavour’. An entertaining story about motor racing in all its formats.

The thought of ever again owning a bicycle, or riding one must, in those fabulous, courting days, have appeared outrageous. There was, and is, so many things to do, so many places to visit, all at the pace of light, and the bicycle not any longer is the ‘fastest thing on the road’.

Many years later, a chance remark, by the lady in my life, sets a seed in my mind. It is hinted that, perhaps, a bicycle might be a nice birthday present for her. Duly, I visit the local cycle shop and, indeed, the sales assistant is most attentive. 

However, the story does not start here.

Rightly or wrongly, I select a twenty-inches wheel size, folding, shopping-cycle in red, which I consider to be a vast improvement on the colour black. Over the years I have become to detest black as the worst and most dangerous colour on the road. Why good people insist upon a colour which can not be seen is beyond my comprehension.

I am assured that my selection will be excellent for short distances, with the added advantage of reducing motoring costs which have soared from the luxury days of motoring when petrol had cost under six shillings a gallon. When the price increases above that figure I think that motoring must die an instant death and never again shall I be enjoying the freedom of the road. Little do I know how drastically motoring is plunged into oblivion!

For the good people born too late enjoying the pleasures of ‘pounds, shillings and pence’, the only currency capable of combating inflation, petrol of yesteryear cost under 30p a gallon in current money!!

The load, on the small wheels is low therefore increasing safety, although the riding position is not any lower than on a conventional cycle. From time to time I anticipated that my good lady will need to transport a heavy load from the shops, or the garden centre; it is imperative to have a broad and versatile mind before parting with so much money. Additional advantages are that both the handlebars and saddle heights can be adjusted to suit any rider, plus the small space occupied in storage and transit. The dis-advantage is that this style of cycle tends to be heavier in weight and, therefore, sluggish and un-suitable for longer journeys. Because we live close by shops it does not distract me from my objective and, included in the price, is a stand, dynamo lighting, basket, on the front handle-bars, and a carrier rack on the back. Also, it is sporting a three speeds hub made by Sturmey-Archer, a name I remember from my Lucas, cycling days. Because the firm is still in business impresses me.

The deal is struck, money changes hands slowly and deliberately and the new, shiny present is on the way home to be secreted until the anniversary day. Never do I envisage or imagine that the present is not ‘exactly to order’.

After a lapse of time and the present not rising to the majestic importance envisaged in the life of my ’first wife’, and our motoring costs not dropping, it dawns upon me that the chance remark of a ‘cycle for my birthday’ might, possibly, have been made in jest! Fortunately, the cycle is looking both new and attractive. It is sufficiently attractive to tempt me onto this velocipede.

One dark and stormy night, the saddle and ‘bars are raised and I chance my luck on the open road.

In truth, the ‘open road’ is flat, straight and the lane adjacent to our property. What I think is a flat surface suddenly is showing a different face. The undulations are evident in the beam of the front light, which are matched continually by the flicking of the handle-bar, based gear change lever. I think I am a musician playing either a ukulele or a banjo. Never can I distinguish between these two instruments except that the ‘pundit’ advises me that it takes longer burning a banjo!

The experience does not deter me, presumably, because I try my luck again soon afterwards. These exploits become more frequent, as time is passing, but how tiring it is over level ground; I am reminded of my earlier days in the company of Fred Whittaker, a friend of long standing, and a keen cyclist.

As the enjoyment is developing and use is being made of the good lady’s present, my mind is turning towards more ambitious dreams. I begin looking at cycle catalogues together with calculating the amount of money which might have to change hands? After careful deliberation and consideration my selection is a 22" cycle bearing the Union Flag and the name – ‘Custom Lazer’, in an attractive, silver colour which I think is an improvement on the red of the ‘borrowed’ push-bike.

The new machine I expect for Christmas, what better time, a date when all bicycles arrive. As the best plans do, the arrangements falls foul of delivery schedules at this time of the year. The package does not arrive until February 7th in the year 1982.

The Christmas scene is of opening presents all with a cycle connection; a large, road map, gloves and the like which do not lose their appeal because there is not a cycle in accompaniment. Indeed, the presents are giving a warm pleasure, for a second time, when the new cycle does arrive, eventually.

Thereafter, what transpires is that the family is ‘forced’ into accompanying me, at weekends, on rides in the locality. This truth I gleaned, in later years, when the children informed me that they ‘hated’ our forages into the un-known! However, modern children are not noted for their liking of exercise. In fact, during the year the family were riding together ten times and, honourable son number ‘one’, James, accompanies me on five occasions. What I remember about these occasions is that, always, he out-performs me on hill climbing and I marvel at the speed he can muster and the number of peddles revolutions he can achieve.

In defence of the accusation of torture is that we are doing something together, as a family, and competing together on equal terms, or similar terms, which is not easy when a family is small. This, to me, is the reward which passes so quickly into history, and which is gone forever.

While the novelty is upon me this, particular month, I succeed in accomplishing seven rides covering a total of 56 miles including a longest journey of 18 miles. The up-shot is that only do I match the same number of runs, in a month, during April the same year. Overall, the year ends with a total of forty-four journeys completed, 267.3 miles covered at an average of 6.075 miles per journey and trips are made in every month except in November. Never previously do I await the arrival of summer so eagerly, so that I can enjoy cycling in conducive conditions. Naivety is a marvellous aid in this fickle climate found over the British Isles. However, a friend, native of Rhodesia, is adamant that the United Kingdom enjoys the best weather in the world, based upon his presumption that always we can venture outside and enjoy our desires. Perhaps I am not often sitting in the cricket pavilion, on a wet Saturday afternoon, after careful analysis.

My Lazer carries me over 504.7 miles without mishap but not necessarily in comfort.

The saddle is giving me ‘hell’ until more usage is prevailing; however, if I vacate the saddle for any length of time, the agony process starts again and many are the times when I am sitting on a piece of sponge rubber, concealed in my trousers. This ploy working well and encouraging me back onto the saddle when, otherwise, I might not have been enthusiastic.

Also, what is apparent is that the 22" size frame is too small for me. Rightly or wrongly, I prefer extending my leg at the bottom of each pedal rotation. By so doing I am able to relax my muscles more easily, avoiding fatigue.

Both stems have been raised to their full extent giving an un-safe feeling. Therefore, if I intend expanding my cycling programme perhaps a larger cycle is not ‘out of the way’?

Just another investment!

Half the enjoyment, for me, in selecting a new toy, is the selection process. Becoming an expert on a subject is rewarding if the purchase proves to be, beyond all doubt, correct. For success, a decision must not be rushed even if a little, extra time is spent on the procedure. My desire is to purchase a British cycle; also, colour is extremely important because a cyclist has to be seen and what better colour is there than white.

Whilst this pantomime is being acted, amusing the family, I am successful in selling the Lazer to a satisfied purchaser at the price I had paid for it at the outset. It must be emphasised that it is looking like new so my care and attention is rewarded. Although I have money in my pocket, it is high summer and I am without transport.

When the time advances to the September of 1983 it proves, absolutely, that I have not rushed headlong into a hasty, new union.

It is a Saturday and raining hard, which is un-usual at Old Trafford, where I should be broadcasting on the cricket; other than