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I was twenty years old in the summer of ’78 and working at a mountaineering and rock climbing shop on Main Street in North Conway, New Hampshire when this glitzy new ultra-sophisticated fabric called Gore-Tex arrived on the scene. I remember when that first shipment of garments landed at the shop and how we...
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I spotted them as I spun along Grand Parade this morning: a knot of hard-eyed loiterers, break-and-enter all over their faces, slouching on a wall beside a bus stop and watching my approach behind furtively cupped cigarettes. I could feel their eyes on me as I swept by. A bronze statue of Queen Victoria...
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Now that the festive season and all the feasting is well and truly over, and with (pretty much) the last of the fruitcake, marzipan and deluxe Yuletide Belgian chocolates gone, the cookie tins empty and no more champagne, I find myself looking in the mirror, taking stock and grudgingly acknowledging that I would indeed...
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One of my favourite poems when I was a child was Windy Nights by Robert Louis Stevenson, who is better known for being the author of Treasure Island. In the poem, a little boy - probably Stevenson himself as a child - is laying snug in his bed, when he is awakened late on...
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You know how it is when you’re tempted to buy something that you really, really like and really want to have but pass it up on the grounds of economy – it would be too much of a self-indulgent splurge – only to kick yourself later for not grabbing whatever it was at the...
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When I read that Oscar-winner actor Gene Hackman took a tumble off his bicycle while riding helmet-less through the streets of a Florida city I knew it would only be a matter of time – hours in these days of instant communication – before his bare-headed state became a focal point in the wearying...
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I was spinning along the street this morning, down towards the seafront, when I heard from behind me the deep growl of a big truck engine changing gears, shifting down. Naturally, this had to be just when I’d come upon one of those stretches in the road where it really isn’t pleasant or safe...
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O would some power the gift to give us; to see ourselves as others see us; It would from many a blunder free us… So goes an oft-quoted stanza from a Robert Burns poem – addressed to a louse, in point of fact, one that he saw crawling on a fine lady’s bonnet in...
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No component on a bicycle is more personal than the saddle, and no saddle could be more personal than an old-fashioned leather one which moulds itself over time to the precise shape of your sit bones. In doing so it becomes uniquely yours, for life, as comfortable as a cozy old armchair - something...
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As I came around the roundabout at the bottom of Elphinstone Road and Alexandra Park this morning, half-lost in a reverie, I found myself reflexively swinging a bit wider here than the line I might normally hew through a roundabout so as to avoid the deep and potentially jarring gouge in the bitumen that...
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Welcome to My-Bicycle-and-I
By way of introduction I am a magazine writer and sometime photographer who loves bicycles and cycling—not to race or get fit or even commute, but for the simple pleasure of being abroad in the world on two skinny wheels.
Since I enjoy writing nearly as much as I enjoy riding, I decided to put together this eclectic collection of stories, essays, reviews and columns.
I hope you'll find some things you like. Read a bit more here.
